Razing Beijing: A Thriller (63 page)

The President raised his eyebrows while mulling over the
point. Herman shook his head.

McBurney continued. “Few of his generation seem to have
aspired to power. Rong does so while touting many of the hard-line ideologies
of his Maoist forebears—most Red Guards have renounced the Cultural Revolution and
espouse more progressive ideologies. As for his entrenched power base, Rong
seems to be particularly skilled at gaming the system. Any cadre who’s able to
establish the biggest network of appointments eventually wins, given that each
appointment is bestowed nearly dictatorial authority to make appointments of
their own, and so on down the line. Checks-and-balances in the traditional
American sense are nonexistent. It’s not without it’s Darwinian attributes. But
outsiders rarely get a glimpse of the process, a fact which exacerbates our
difficulty predicting successionary outcomes. Their constitution is a sham
document. There is no process for succession in any Western democratic sense.”

“What’s this got to do with sweetening the pot for Deng?” asked
Herman.

“An odd twist of fate. Rong and Deng probably come into
regular contact in the course of their duties. They also crossed paths during
the Cultural Revolution, though we’re not sure either man knows it. Some time
ago, one of our indigenous agents presented first-hand knowledge that Deng’s
father, who was a high school principal and Liberation hero, his mother, and
young sister were all butchered by a mob of Red Guards.”

Those in the Oval Office silently reflected for several
moments.

“Our agent shared her account of a young man by the name of
Kang Long,” McBurney continued. “According to her, Kang is the Red Guard who
instigated the ‘hooligan attack’ on Deng’s family. It’s likely this occurred as
it did for millions of others at the time, part of Mao and the Gang of Four’s
class warfare to purge anti-socialists, with one additional twist. Madame Mao
was planning a putsch that would have vaulted her to power over Deng Xiaoping. Fearing
retribution, she apparently ordered all Deng surname families killed, in the
process wiping out those with no blood relation at all to the prominent
leader.”

“And Deng Zhen’s family?” asked President Denis.

McBurney shook his head. “No relation to Deng Xioaping. In
any case, our Beijing agent maintained that Kang Long was physically involved
in the attack, or ‘struggle’ as it was euphemized at the time, that he not only
led the bludgeoning of Deng’s father but participated in the gang rape of the
girl and evisceration of the mother, before setting the home ablaze.

The President considered the news with a scowl.

“Of course, Mao Zedong eventually ordered that the PLA
intervene to stem the anarchy, and millions of Red Guards were banished to the
rural interior. With the help of his father, Kang Long instead fled to Paris
where he attended university. His father died while Long was overseas. By the
way, Kang Sheng, the Mao confidant, was Lavrenty Beria’s Chinese understudy
during the Stalin regime. The son returned from France after a decade of
self-imposed exile following Mao’s death. So he’s not your typical princeling. He
repatriated under the alias of Rong Peng.”

Denis and Herman exchanged a look. “How long have we known
this?” demanded the President.

Director Burns intervened. “The Agency’s known for about
six years. It floated to the surface recently because of concern over Rong
Peng’s activities and their relevance to your treaty negotiations. I take full
responsibility for not earlier informing Sam of your negotiation effort.”

“Well,” President Denis shifted uncomfortably in his chair,
“I’m not about to indict a man based on what he might have done forty years
ago.”

McBurney nodded grimly. “The question, sir, is if Deng Zhen
will take a similar view.”

“Meaning what?”

“We’re relatively certain that our agent—I’m referring to
SIREN, our Beijing agent—she never told Deng what she knew about Rong’s true identity.
We propose to do it ourselves.”

“You plan to tell Deng who butchered his family forty years
ago,” Herman observed. He looked to the President for a cue, but found none. “Where
the hell are you going with this?”

President Denis said, “You seem convinced Deng doesn’t
already know. Maybe he does, and he’s simply moved past it.”

“I happen to think Deng is too proud for that,” McBurney
said, “but it’s certainly a possibility. And we’d be remiss not to mention
recent intelligence suggesting that our Beijing agent might have been
compromised. However, as a close Deng acquaintance who remained insistent that
he did
not
know, her opinion carries weight.”

Director Burns pointed out that the female agent was a
‘walk in,’ meaning that she had approached an American operative and
volunteered to spy. “She cited her growing anxiety over this secret among her
incentives for wanting to spy for us.”

“With help from Interpol and the French SDECE, we were able
to link Kang Long to Rong Peng using travel documents and so forth,” McBurney
further explained. “In the end, it was us exerting pressure on the agent not to
warn Deng herself.”

“No doubt out of respect for the internal politics of a
sovereign country,” Herman quipped.

“Of course not,” Burns admitted. “You save nuggets like
this for the most opportune moment.”

“Maybe somebody else told Deng,” Herman asserted. “You say
she’s maybe been compromised. How do you know the agent hasn’t got an ulterior
motive—maybe a grudge against Rong?”

“We’ll never know,” McBurney replied. “The agent is dead. A
brain tumor killed her, apparently.”

Herman blinked. “Documents can be doctored. Mr. President,
this is a dangerous moment—we knew there’d be opposition from the military
industrialists. I urge you not to prematurely abandon the progress we’ve made
toward completing the treaty accord.”

“Thomas—
relax
. Nobody’s abandoning anything. Sounds
like the CIA is only suggesting that we introduce a little trauma to their
succession process, maybe provoke an assassination...I can’t be accused of
fomenting assassination, can I?”

“No, sir,” Burns replied.

President Denis smiled. “How thoroughly comforting. I
gather you think the right person to administer your plan is this civilian?”

“Mr. Stuart knows both the technology in question and Mr.
Deng.”

“Lester, are you sure?” Herman exchanged a long look with
Director Burns. “A layperson?”

“He already holds a security clearance,” McBurney said,
“and has signed the appropriate forms. He’s also a Marine veteran.”

“A Marine...” Herman nodded. “I guess that’s meant to be
encouraging.”

“Deng seems to have chosen to trust him. That’s one big hurdle
already cleared.”

“He’s here, I take it?” asked the President.

“Mr. Stuart is waiting outside.”

President Denis stood from his chair and headed toward the
coffee service. “Invite the man in.”

Friday, July 3

ON THE OPPOSITE END
of Pennsylvania Avenue, a closed-door session inside the Senate Russell
Building’s Committee, Science, & Transportation Hearing Room was about to
convene. Representing the CS&T committee chair in the special joint hearing
was Iowa Senator Franklin Arns, and for the Appropriations Oversight
Subcommittee, Oregon Senator John Reynolds. The ostensible purpose of this afternoon’s
hearing fell under the purview of Appropriations. Presiding alongside his two
panel colleagues was Maryland Senator Norman Milner, whose seat on Reynold’s
subcommittee was a footnote to his primary role as Senate Budget Committee
Chairman.

Discussion of any ‘black’ program in such a forum was
strictly limited to administrative matters; a DC Park Police officer was posted
outside the double doors to SR253 with instructions to keep members of the
public away. There were no staffers wandering about, no members of the press,
no microphones and certainly no CSPAN cameras in use. A lone stenographer sat
floor-level before a portable desk, his back to the senatorial dais, hands
poised to record the proceeding, his gaze directed at the four invited attendees.

Ralph Perry, CEO of Coherent Light Incorporated, leaned
toward the woman seated to his immediate right. “Still not sure what this is
about?”

Joanne Lewis shook her head. Seated beside her was Gil
Campbell, the contracting officer’s technical representative whose
responsibility it was to liaison between the Department of Energy and private
sector contractors. Campbell received a call at home late the previous evening,
and was ordered to attend the hastily scheduled subcommittee hearing with the
CLI executive. No explanation had been forthcoming, and Campbell was not
inclined to press his boss’s boss, Office of Transportation Technologies
Director Donna Gingras, seated to Campbell’s right. The two CLI attendees
naturally had assumed that their lobbying was about to pay off, that Congress
would approve the major contract restructuring and approve the additional
funds.

Senator Arns raised his eyes from the podium bench. “We’re
pretty busy with dozens of similarly pressing matters. We appreciate your
timely arrival before us today.”

Senator Milner rejoined with a pained smile. His expression
betrayed no recognition of the individuals seated before him.

“I’d like to proceed to the point,” Arns said. “The joint
committee convened last evening under executive session. Would it be your
opinion, uh, Mr. Perry, that the classified DOE program under your stead is
experiencing some rather serious management problems?”

Perry shot an accusatory glance toward Gil Campbell, who
looked as dumbfounded as any of them. “Senator, my opinion is that we’re
experiencing problems that typically plague research initiatives. This is the
first I’ve heard these characterized as being the fault of management.”

Arns continued. “It’s come to our attention that your
program is as much as 40% over-budget and fourteen months behind schedule. Is
that portrayal not accurate?”

Lewis leaned toward him again and whispered: “Careful,
Ralph. This might just be some minor administrative technicality they need to
resolve.”

“I won’t disagree with your numbers,” Perry allowed. “But
you make it sound as if news of the overrun comes as a surprise. We’ve worked
very hard to keep DOE officials and senate staff in the loop. In fact, we at
CLI proposed...” Senator Arns was shaking his head, flipping through pages. Perry
chose to continue. “During Senator Milner’s recent tour of the facility, we
discussed various ways to bolster funding for the Project. I thought it was
mutually understood that the Project holds great promise as an economic engine
of the future, environmentally friendly, albeit with current difficulties to be
overcome. I’m sorry, Senator. I’m not sure I understand the thrust of your
question.”

At that, Milner lifted his head. “What’s not to understand?
Naturally, you seek more funding and we don’t have an issue with you coming to
us for that. The issue is that you’ve chosen to keep Congress in the dark on
the magnitude of the problems.”

Perry and Lewis exchanged a stunned look. “Senator,” Perry
said calmly, “that’s simply not the case.”

Senators Reynolds and Arns appraised them gravely as Milner
picked up a document from the bench and donned a pair of reading spectacles. He
scanned it for several moments, then tipped his head and leveled his gaze over
the tops of the spectacles. “We on the panel have debated the situation
carefully, arduously, and at great length,” Milner said. “I’d like to emphasize
that all committee members have justifiable praise for your organization’s
determination to develop what could someday be an extraordinarily important technology,
not only for this country’s economy but also in the interest of both enriching
the global community and protecting its environment. In the current climate,
however, we can ill afford budgetary surprises.”

Next, Senator Reynolds read from a document in his hands. “Resolution
number 1455 shall so state...ta-dah ta-dah...here we are. Until further notice,
all appropriated government funding in support of Energy Department program
number DOE 2007-TI5 is hereby suspended—”

Perry slammed his fist on the table. “You can’t be
serious!”

Reynolds absorbed the disruption, glancing up from the page
before continuing. “Funding is hereby suspended in recognition of serious
contractor deficiencies. These include unacceptable performance in issues of
budget, deliverables, reasonable oversight and communication thereof before the
Committee, as well as credible allegations of breach in national security.”

Perry froze, his neck flush red against the white of his
collar. “National security breach?”

Senator Arns gazed wearily out at his audience. “Mr. Perry,
try to put yourself in our position. Several times in the last hundred years
we’ve stood at the threshold of a new and wonderful technology, be it fossil
fuel or nuclear power, advanced weapons with which to defend ourselves, biowar
vaccines, what have you. Each time the promise was the same, that we had to
have it, it would vastly improve our lives, our standard of living, our
security, our environment. Each time in one way or another it either failed to
deliver, fell into the wrong hands, or both. Do you want to be associated with
the next technological moral failure?”

Perry was speechless.

“Budget issues aside, the committee weighs the risk
associated with the alleged espionage to be greater than the upside potential
in continuing the Project. That will remain our position for at least as long
as the FBI and the DOE inspector general need to investigate the matter.”