Power and Empire

“I think so as well,” Yuki said. “You must be careful, Jack. When you try to leave Japan, ushirogami wo hikareru—it will always tug at the hair on the back of your neck.”

“I can believe that—”

Chavez’s voice came over the net. He was still at the hotel babysitting Chen’s computer while Gavin Biery worked to break the passwords and encryption so he could conduct a remote assessment of its contents. Midas and Adara had been going from place to place, looking for any needles in the haystack of G20 venues. They all planned to link up around the hotel, across the street from the Imperial Palace and grounds.

“I’ve been trying to call you, ’mano,” Chavez said. “Gavin got in.” His voice was far from happy.

“Okay,” Ryan said. “An assassination plot?”

“Gav’s still going over files,” Chavez said. “But not so far. Just as Eddie Feng suspected, Chen is connected to the Beijing subway bombing. He was paid a nice sum for that one. But get this. Did you read about the soldier getting killed in Chad and an attack on a Navy vessel somewhere over near Bali?”

“Yeah,” Jack said.

“Chen received payments around the time of those attacks — and, of course, the bombing in Argentina.”

Ryan pondered the ramifications. “Taiwan?”

“Not even close,” Chavez said. “Foreign Minister Li. Gav got some weird hits checking some back channels. First he thought the connection was just because Li was a victim in the Argentina thing, but Li and a PRC general named Xu own shares in a diamond mine in West Africa. Get this, Vincent Chen’s sister, Lily, is a minority partner in the same mine.”

Ryan stopped in his tracks. “So Chen and Foreign Minister Li are connected? Maybe the sister hired Chen to kill her business partner.”

Yuki turned around to listen to Jack’s half of the conversation.

“We have to pass this up the chain,” Jack said.

“Gerry’s getting it to our friends at the Crossing now.”

He meant Liberty Crossing, home of the Office of the Director of National Intelligence — Mary Pat Foley. She would know if there was anything in the works regarding Li.

“I’ll get back to you,” Chavez said. “Gerry’s calling.”

Ryan filled Yuki in as they crossed Uchibori Street, which was blocked off to vehicular traffic for the entire block in front of the hotel. They were able to walk north, along the Imperial Garden moat.

Yuki stopped with the gathered crowd directly across the street from the hotel. A dozen uniformed police officers and security guards in white hardhats formed a polite but unyielding skirmish line along the sidewalk, allowing people to look as long as they were empty-handed. Photography, or even holding a phone, was strictly prohibited.

Three helicopters thumped in the gray sky overhead, two peeling off while the third hovered over the hotel roof, settling in for a landing. Marine One. Jack felt his gut twist, knowing that his father was stepping into some serious unknowns.

“You needn’t worry about the President,” Yukiko said. “The Wadakura fountains and ponds form a natural barrier to the south of this venue and the police have closed the roads around the entire block.” She nodded toward a large white tent at the end of the street. “Any delivery or staff support vehicle — even those of the police — must be screened with mirrors and explosive-detection canines. Pedestrians, including security, must show their credentials at that point, and then again inside the building, passing through metal detectors at both locations. It is like the layers of an onion. Concentric rings, countermeasures to thwart bombings, armed assailants, missiles, biological and chemical attacks, and crazy people with samurai swords. You see, it appears that every conceivable attacker has been covered.”

“Even kebukai yabanjin?” Jack said.

“Especially the hairy barbarians,” Yuki said.

Sirens yelped and a motorcade of fifteen cars turned off Uchibori and into the security tent half a block down.

The black Toyota sedan behind the police lead vehicles bore the red flags of the People’s Republic of China.

“Zhao,” Ryan mused.

The motorcade proceeded under the hotel portico, out of the rain. Men in dark suits sprang from the two follow-up sedans, facing outbound as they surrounded the limousine. Some of them would be Japanese SPs — Security Police — but like the United States, China preferred to bring a relatively large contingent of her own personnel.

Ryan took a half-step forward in order to get a better look. It was hard to be certain in the rain from so far away.

“Do those two guys look familiar?”

Yuki moved up beside him. “I… think so.”

President Zhao exited his limo, purposely shielded from clear view by the vehicle and the pillars in front of the hotel entry. He and several members of his security detail disappeared into the hotel. The motorcade pulled forward and then stopped again. More security men got out and surrounded a second protectee.

“Foreign Minister Li,” Yuki said. “I know who those men were.”

“Me too,” Ryan said into the microphone on his neck loop.