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A flash of blue on the right catches her eye and in seconds her stolen car is T-boned by another car. The Celica spins, hits something, and Noa loses consciousness when the airbag deploys, hammering her face.
CHAPTER 98
THE PRESIDENT PICKS up anotheryoutiao,examines it for a moment, and then puts it down on the crowded coffee table. “Okay, Mr. Xi, I’ve made my points. The ball is in your court. It’s your turn at bat. You’ve got the conn.”
“Sir?”
Barrett waves a hand. “Get on with it. What does Beijing want?”
Now we’re finally getting somewhere with this strange man,Dejiang thinks.
He says, “From your communities in the United States to our city of Jieyang, you have made your displeasure about our past activities quite apparent. We hear your messages, and we are eager to engage in high-level talks to ease the tension, reach an understanding before events escalate and spiral out of control.”
“Another negotiation?” Barrett says. “Wow. Color me shocked and impressed, that therezidentof the Ministry of State Security for the United States would come to the White House and offer additional negotiations. Gosh.”
Even though he knows he’s being mocked, Dejiang says, “Sir, this makes sense. You know it does.”
Barrett says, “You a student of history?”
“In a manner, yes,” Dejiang says, feeling like he’s on a slippery set of stone steps, like a tour he took once on the Great Wall, where one false move would end in injury or death.
“Back in 2001, after long negotiations, China was allowed to join the World Trade Organization,” Barrett says. “Negotiators from the West, including my predecessor here, thought it was a wise decision. By opening markets to you and a greater exchange of information and goods, it was thought that you were on the road to democracy, and that a great liberalization would take place in Beijing.”
Barrett returns to the fried pastry, breaks off a piece, chews, and swallows. “Guess we messed that one up, eh? You got the enormous economic trading advantages of being part of the WTO, but your government in Beijing thought it also gave you license to raise hell around the world. But it ends now, with me.”
Dejiang’s face is still flushed, but now his hands are cooling.
“Ends how, sir?”
Another wipe of his fingers on the napkin. “You’ve come here to ask me to stop my activities, in finally paying Beijing back for the years of economic theft and cyberattacks. And I’m telling you, no, it’s not going to happen. Sorry. Oh, hold on a moment, I forgot I have something for you.”
Dejiang looks on in astonishment as the president of the United States pulls a bulging white plastic bag from underneath the table, and hands it over. Dejiang takes the bag and looks in.
Four cartons of Marlboro cigarettes.
With pride Barrett says, “Had one of my aides bounce over to the 7-Eleven on 19th Street Northwest. Your favorite brand, correct?”
Dejiang drops the bag on the couch and sharpens his voice, saying, “Mr. President, I came here in good faith, to offer talks to reduce tensions and stop the situation from escalating, and you’re not taking me, or my nation, seriously. I won’t stand for it.”
Barrett says, “Yeah, if I was in your seat, I probably wouldn’t, either.”
Now it happens,Dejiang thinks,now I will use the weapon I’ve been saving.
“Sir, you must know that we have a CIA operative in our custody, in South Africa.”
He shrugs. “You forget, I was CIA director for a number of years. Having an operative captured is part of the business of espionage.”
Dejiang says, “This CIA operative is Benjamin Lucas. I have been instructed by my government that if you do not agree to these talks, and stop your attacks on my nation, that this CIA operative will be executed by my government as a spy, as is allowed by international law.”
Dejiang stares at the president’s face, looking for some flicker, some bit of emotion or something to cross his face, but his expression remains bland.
Barrett says, “Price of doing business. I know it well. Go right ahead. There are greater things in play than one man’s life, who has sworn fealty to me and this nation.”
Dejiang feels like he’s at the Great Wall again, but this time, he is falling, falling hard to the ground.
“But Mr. President, surely you will agree to our requests.”
“Why?”