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The Ninja and the Diplomat
The Ninja and the Diplomat
The Ninja and the Diplomat
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The Ninja and the Diplomat

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***COMRADE BRODSKY REPORTS THAT THE PEOPLE’S REPUBLIC WILL ATTACK ASEAN***

The Chinese intelligence agency received this message from a trusted asset. He had just completed the sale of MANPADs, manually portable anti-aircraft devices, in Macau.

His customer was Carlos a.k.a. Hashim. What buy arms for the rebels in the Philippines?

A logistics manager suspected of stealing from the Chinese Army warehouse is found murdered. The ensuing review of the warehouse inventory shows that a twelve MANPADs and a dozen tactical nuclear devices have been stolen recently.

A high-ranking foreign ministry official, key to managing a brewing international crisis, is nearly assassinated when he meets with a cousin who lives in Taiwan.

Urgent deep analysis of all related data spotlights two men, the Boss and the Yakuza. One of them plans to wreak havoc on China. What is to be done?

LanguageEnglish
PublisherHock G. Tjoa
Release dateSep 5, 2015
ISBN9781310176135
The Ninja and the Diplomat
Author

Hock G. Tjoa

Hock was born in Singapore to Chinese parents. He studied history and classics at Brandeis and Harvard and taught the History of Modern Europe and of Asian Political Thought at the University of Malaya. He has published George Henry Lewes, a Victorian mind and "The Social and Political ideas of Tan Cheng Lock." He is married with two adult daughters and now lives in the foothills of the Sierra Nevadas. In 2010, he published a selection and translation of the Chinese classic, The Romance of the Three Kingdoms under the title "The Battle of Chibi." In 2011, he is publishing an adaptation of Lao She's "Teahouse" as "Heaven is High and the Emperor Far Away, a Play." He published "The Chinese Spymaster," the first of a planned three volume series, and "The Ingenious Judge Dee" in 2013

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    The Ninja and the Diplomat - Hock G. Tjoa

    PREFACE

    This is a work of fiction. Nothing about it is factual and no person or event is based on anything in reality. Any such resemblance is purely coincidental.

    That said, I have tried to present fiction, not fantasy. There are references to real places, countries, practices and institutions. But the characters, events, and descriptions of the Chinese political system or of the debates within it are all fictional.

    This is the second volume in a series but it is neither a sequel to the first nor a prequel to the third. Among others, Wang, Cai and Yu appeared in the first volume and may appear in the third.

    CHARACTERS (in order of first appearance)

    Kim, a North Korean arms dealer and Chinese intelligence asset.

    Viktor, an East European underworld figure.

    Second brother Ma, the acting spymaster.

    Wang, the spymaster, a member of the Chinese politburo and acting chairman of the CPS.

    Zhang, assistant minister in the Finance ministry and its representative to the CPS.

    Yu, deputy minister of Foreign Affairs and member of the CPS. He is the Diplomat in the title.

    Deng, major-general in the army and member of the CPS.

    Wen, deputy commissioner of police and its representative to the CPS. He and Wang are married to sisters named Shu.

    Carlos/Hashim, moro (Filipino muslim) rebel purchaser of arms from Kim.

    Wong (a Cantonese variant of Wang), an undercover policeman investigating the trail of arms from the Kim-Carlos transaction.

    The Ninja makes his first appearance in a minor skirmish with Wong.

    Emilio, Christian Filipino follower of Carlos/Hashim.

    Mariam, half-Chinese Christian Filipino, Emilio’s girlfriend.

    Owyang, current head of analysis at the intelligence agency.

    Gong, head of field operations at the agency.

    Xiao Shu, =younger sister Shu, Wang’s wife.

    Chen, a general in the army and an old friend of Wen’s and Wang’s. Not to be confused with Inspector Chen a much younger man.

    Hu, former head of administration at the intelligence agency.

    Cousin Yu, related to Yu the Diplomat. Their fathers were brothers, warriors on separate sides of the Taiwan Straits, with a vision of eventual reunification.

    MAP OF THE EASTERN OCEAN

    (The East China Sea)

    By Maximilian Dörrbecker (Chumwa) [CC BY-SA 2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

    MAP OF THE SOUTH SEA

    (The South China Sea) U.S. Central Intelligence Agency - Asia Maps — Perry-Castañeda Map Collection: South China Sea (Islands) 1988. Licensed under Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons

    One

    It was Sunday in Macau. Kim, the North Korean arms dealer, settled into the armchair in his favorite hotel.

    Room service. The voice was courteous and muffled by the sturdy door of the suite.

    The arms dealer frowned and nodded to his bodyguard, who padded to the door. He himself leaned back in the large rosewood and silk armchair, reaching for his weapon, and said, We did not order anything.

    Compliments of Viktor, the waiter from room service said, referring to the pimp in Shanghai who often procured for the North Korean.

    Kim hesitated for two heartbeats, then nodded to his bodyguard who opened the door slowly and waved a metal detecting wand over the delivery person. The man wheeled a polished wooden cart laden with fruit into the room. A basket of fresh local lychees sat beside cut-up mango from the Philippines on ice. In addition, the cart bore a plate of custard tarts, truffles on a platter with the plum and marzipan crumble that was the establishment’s signature dessert, and the customary bottle of champagne in an ice bucket.

    You really should try the egg tarts. They are better than those in Hong Kong, purred an East European voice from outside the door.

    This will not get you the commission you wanted, Kim’s irritation sharpened his voice. It was rude of you to threaten a shootout.

    Ah, Viktor said, his lips curved in a grin, but his eyes were hard as he shook his head slowly. He strode in with a swagger and gestured for the champagne. Taking a glass, he waved it and examined the cart of goodies, No tampering in any of this, I assure you. Although it looks like the maid who put this together has sampled the marzipan crumble.

    He breathed in deeply and looked around the room. The light floral scent in the room came from real flowers, the aroma of chocolate and butter arose from the truffles, and the furnishings announced not the showy affluence of new shirts taken out of their wrappings or cars just driven off the showroom floor but the well-maintained and self-assured comfort of a high-end but reserved resort—a boutique hotel in the expanse of greed and shame of casinos.

    The man from room service was Chinese and looked local, darker than Chinese from the mainland, so Kim and his bodyguards might assume he was not from Viktor’s ‘inner circle.’ But Kim and those who have to deal with Viktor knew that he used gangs of local organized crime. Kim’s bodyguard remained on alert. The ‘waiter’ snatched a knife from the cart and attacked the bodyguard. Even though there was a crazed expression in his eyes, like drug users have, he wielded the knife with skill. But it was as if a local weekend athlete fought a hardened professional.

    The guard had to dodge three or four times before blocking a knife thrust with the metal detector and striking the attacker’s throat. The attacker arched backwards while slashing at the outstretched arm. The guard spun to avoid the knife and caught the attacker by the wrist. He swung the man effortlessly into a wall.

    As that attacker slumped to the floor, another appeared at the doorway. Was that too easy? The intruder raised his Glock, and shot at the bodyguard who sprang to relative safety behind the furniture in the living room.

    Kim wasted no time in returning fire with his Beretta, which he favored because of its heft. He hit the new attacker and then the next of Viktor’s assassins that appeared at the door.

    Plop, plop.

    Another gangster who rushed in also fell. Plop.

    Your marksmanship has improved, remarked Viktor as he drew his own weapon and hastened to an armchair beyond Kim, but there are more of us and we have something…

    A shrill whistle blew.

    Guns clattered and men muttered curses. A door opened near the staircase down the hall.

     Stop! Police. Drop your weapons.

    Damn— Viktor swore, using many more words. How did the police get here so quickly? The Boss will not be pleased.

    Kim maintained his grim and calm facade. The police brought with them the odor of officious authority that jostled with the whiff of gunpowder.

    Within a few minutes, the authorities had taken into custody all the attackers and their victims. Kim grumbled and said, I have diplomatic immunity.

    The police did not break their stride in handcuffing him along with everyone else.

    Police — days of isolation and inactivity.

    Good thing I sent my message to the Intelligence Agency yesterday.

    How long before the old spymaster gets wind of this?

    Two

    Week one, Monday morning. Wang, the slim and tall old spymaster, looked out a window at a grey, sooty, and acrid Monday morning in Beijing. He smiled at the sight of a muscular and boyish-looking man in his early forties, his successor, entering the building and striding across the foyer towards his open door.

    Spymaster!

    Wang, in his mid-50s waved the younger man into the small room, one of those for last minute exchange of notes and information before a meeting. He wore his Mao suit with creases like that on the dress uniform of a new officer. His back was as straight as if he hung from the ceiling by the second button of his shirt. He leaned back into his chair in the waiting room and gestured his visitor to an adjacent seat.

     Second Brother Ma, we must both remember that you are the spymaster now.

    Ma wore a Western suit and looked rumpled next to his chief. His career in the intelligence agency began two decades ago. He climbed through the ranks by making himself available for every emergency and dropping anything personal to respond to any mission or call for help.

    Second brother Ma often introduced himself as such because he was the second son in his family. He was thorough in preparing for operations and compassionate towards his fellow agents. Above all, he maintained a buoyancy of spirit. Wang, the old spymaster, had not thought twice in making Ma his deputy.

    The sudden illness of Wang’s mentor, Senior Commissar Cai, however, created a vacuum on the many committees in which Cai sat or chaired. Wang inherited most of those duties. For instance, he now acted as the Chairman of the Committee on Public Safety (CPS), the highest clearing house for intra-agency cooperation on national security.

    Ma arrived for their usual meeting to prepare for the CPS and declared, waving a single sheet of paper, We just received this intelligence flash and I do not know how best to proceed.

    Are you nervous? Wang asked.

    I don’t know how you did this. You always made this look so easy.

    My old boss was around for eight years when I became spymaster and things seemed slower at that time. Perhaps we tried to do less than we do at present. He gestured at a flask on a side table, Some tea, Old Ma? I’m sorry there are no steamed buns left.

    I’ll have some tea. Here, you can read this for yourself.

    *COMRADE BRODSKY REPORTS CHINA WILL ATTEMPT AN ATTACK ON ASEAN SOON*

    Wang looked up at Ma and raised an eyebrow, The Association of Southeast Asian Nations—really?

    Exactly. It makes no sense! exclaimed the younger man. You recruited the North Korean arms dealer two years ago, didn’t you? Why does he refer to himself as Comrade Brodsky?

    Wang waved a hand, We killed his lover at the time we recruited him. It was complicated… You might remember… her name was Brodsky.

    Ah, yes. His information has always been very good. But this is a wild prophecy about what China will do—as if we would try to do something so insane!

    Wang remained silent, watching as Ma continued to pace about the small room, working out his frustrations.

    My understanding of the geopolitics in that part of the world is that we are trying to improve relations with the nations of the South Sea. Would anyone spit into a neighbor’s pot?

    Wang shrugged. Where was Kim when he sent this message?

    Macau. We received it late on Saturday. I’m sorry for not putting it in your briefing package for today, but someone made a mistake with the message and it did not reach the Analysis department until late yesterday. They brought it to me a few minutes ago.

    He sat and took a gulp of tea. Surveillance located Kim in Macau a week ago—he is on our universal watch-list. But here’s the thing, the team lost track of him on Sunday. And he has not responded to our messages.

    That is worrisome, Wang knotted his eyebrows. But China is a big place and has too many people. Let’s give the local police a few more hours to find him. I am confident they will. For now, we don’t know how threatens China, let alone what we can do to thwart the enemy.

    Ma nodded. The mantra at the intelligence agency was never to present a problem without also presenting solutions.

    Naturally we will continue trying to contact Kim and expect to hear today from the watchers on his tail. The analysis department has not identified a threat that could be what the message means. Ma sighed and raised his shoulders.

    Wang nodded and waved his right hand, encouraging Ma to continue.

    Owyang has instructed her staff of analysts to use personal contacts as well official channels to get information from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs (MFA). Operations manager Gong requested an update from all operational assets in Southeast Asia on unusual activities. His department is making a list of all ASEAN events in the coming months and will give read those tea leaves for us. We do not expect to learn that there has been a radical change in China’s foreign policy that might explain such a bizarre alert—

    Wang got up to refresh his cup of tea. He raised his eyebrows and nodded. Ma continued,

    ASEAN has half a dozen meetings at staff and working levels and two at ministerial levels scheduled for this year. The ministerial level meetings are a gathering of foreign ministers in the Philippines in two months and a hoped-for summit of prime ministers in Vietnam at the end of the year.

    Wang sat at the desk and collected his papers. I am not aware of any plans for our armed forces to move to the South Sea.

    The agency and its assets will look for any sign of provocation, but I would feel better if I knew what we are looking for.

    It is good to take seriously our friend Kim’s warning. Unless this message was misleading, the agency will need to present an alert at the Committee on Public Safety by next week. Anything you’d like me to do?

    Can I go back to being just an agent? Ma grinned. Actually, since you are still officially Kim’s handler, can you please see if you can help us locate and debrief him?

     Sure. I liked my encounters and exchanges with that man. He has a devious twist in his thinking that I enjoy.

    Ma slapped his thigh and frowned as he stood. Spies with a sense of humor… what next?

    Wang started to laugh but stopped as he remembered that when he recruited Kim, the latter was trying to sell a nuclear device. Is there any sign that this arms deal involved nuclear devices?

    Nukes? I’m sure he would have mentioned that. Ma drained his tea and turned to Wang, who nodded.

    Well, is there any part of agency work that troubles you?

    All of it, Ma grumbled. When I was an operative, I had only two or three crises to deal with at any one time. Now… How is it that in the movies and western novels, the good guys only fight one set of bad guys at a time?

    Wang shrugged, Cultural differences? Chinese history tends not to deal with heroes, conquerors and kings, but with dynasties and changes in the Mandate of Heaven. Our literature contains more about the rise and fall of families and clans or a way of life and less of the drama of a man or woman’s quest, struggle, or passions. The old spymaster emptied his cup of tea with a smack of his lips. Some theater traditions emphasize the stars while others revolve around the ensembles.

    Ma inclined his head as if recalling an old lesson, Western individualism.

    Wang smiled with a faraway look in his eyes. The tyranny of the Aristotelean unities.

    Ma set his cold tea cup down and grumbled, We seem to model our behavior on the acrobats and jugglers we send on cultural missions and have to keep at least a couple dozen balls or plates in the air. I think I despise those circus acts.

    Wang sniffed and shook his head. Filling in for Senior Commissar Cai has opened up to me new galaxies of state and party bureaucracies. He gestured towards the foyer. Be sure to review all Kim’s movements and contacts over the past week. Find out what he was working on just before he sent the message to us. I’ll see you at the CPS meeting in a few minutes.

    Wang entered a room that held a round table around which seven could sit comfortably, a representative each from five entities—the Army, Police, the Intelligence Agency, the Foreign Ministry, and the Finance Ministry—with two from the party politburo. Of all his duties, this was most familiar to Wang. The location had changed over the decades, but the membership and mission of the committee remained constant.

    At this meeting of the CPS, the finance ministry representative, Assistant Minister Zhang, who looked like a college professor, asked the most substantive question though it was not an agenda item. How would China react if a country purchasing arms from China discovered that similar arms had found their way into rebel or dissident hands?

    A good question, said the representative from the MFA, the newly appointed deputy minister Yu, who had served many years as China’s brilliant lead diplomat. I can assure this committee that countries who buy arms from China or receive weapons from us as aid, are well aware that arms dealers are very competitive and do not care what countries provide their inventory.

    I understand there was a time when leading arms manufacturers sold without compunction to anyone— Zhang said.

    Yes, Yu declared, nodding. The German firm of Krupp sold to those that could afford their prices.

     What about, um, ‘leakage’ from our inventory? Zhang asked.

    The world does not hold the manufacturers responsible for the distribution of the instruments of destruction, Yu replied. The Americans, for example, left much inventory in Iraq and Afghanistan, but they are merely embarrassed, if that, when the same weapons show up in the hands of al-Qaeda or the Islamic State.

    Second brother Ma straightened his back, a small action that only Wang noticed. Has Second Brother Ma connected this information to Kim’s message? Am I over-thinking this?

    Yu continued, Selling arms to one or the other faction would bother these warring nations less than trade or financial sanctions.

    General Deng, freshly minted as major-general of the People’s Army and the acting national director of military logistics and supplies now lectured the committee on the integrity of the procedures put into place at army warehouses. Most members of the CPS were accustomed to his long-winded and bombastic contributions. He was shorter than the average soldier, but his speeches tended not to be so.

    We are aware of the imperative to keep Chinese inventions and supplies secure. The Army has consulted with other institutions, both in China and overseas, to determine ‘best practices’ and to establish protocols securing our factories and storage depots.

     Does this mean China will not knowingly sell arms to both sides of a conflict? Zhang persisted. I ask because our sales are growing though they make up only a small fraction of the four hundred billion US dollar global market. I wondered if any of our buyers might have qualms.

    China does not sell arms to both sides of a conflict. The Foreign Ministry will block, for example, the sale of arms to the rebels and separatists against our allies, Yu said. It would be unfortunate if thieves should take arms from our military warehouses and sell them to such groups. Our allies are likely to be realistic in their expectations.

    I hope to preside over a logistics department in which such accidents will be rare, Deng declared.

    It is still a good idea to accept an oversight committee from the party secretariat, Commissar Long urged. He was attending his first meeting as a representative from the politburo.

    I agree, but must say that the Army leadership is very sensitive to any suggestion that it might need supervision, replied Deng.

    No need to disclose internal debates, General, said Wang in a soothing tone, to close the discussion and end the meeting introducing no other pressing matter.

    As they left, Commissioner Wen, the police representative to this committee and an old friend of Wang’s, slipped him a note. It read, Kim.

    Wang scribbled Cigarettes, Red Pagoda, before returning the piece of paper to Wen. When he was back at his office, Wang phoned his police colleague to get further details. Can you bring him to Beijing or should I be ready to travel?

    It is best if you could meet him at a military base in South China, near Macau.

    Very well. Sometime this evening if possible—yes? I can leave from my office in two hours. Just have his escort from the prison bring him a packet of those Chinese-made cigarettes. It might reassure him.

    Some years ago, Wang had recruited Kim and

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