Page 173 of Never
He decided to call the foreign minister personally. He should really report to Security Minister Fu Chuyu, but Fu was not yet in the office; this was a flimsy excuse, but it would do. He dialled Wu Bai’s home phone.
Wu was awake and up. He answered with: ‘Yes?’ Kai heard a buzz in the background and guessed that Wu was using an electric shaver.
‘This is Chang Kai, and I apologize for calling so early, but one hundred and three Chinese people have been killed in Sudan by an American drone.’
‘Oh, hell,’ said Wu. The buzzing stopped. ‘This will be a shitstorm.’
‘I agree.’
‘Who else knows?’
‘Right now, no one in China outside the Guoanbu. The TV news is saying only that there is a fire at the docks in Port Sudan.’
‘Good.’
‘But obviously I must inform the military as soon as I’ve briefed you. Shall I come to your apartment?’
‘Yes, why not, that will save time.’
‘I’ll be there in half an hour, if that suits you.’
‘See you then.’
Kai printed copies of the Vulture file and put them in a briefcase with some of the photos Shi had printed that showed the USAF roundel on the wrecked drone. Then he went downstairs to his waiting car. He gave Monk the home address of Wu. He took his tie from his pocket and knotted it as they drove.
Wu lived in Chaoyang Park, the swankiest neighbourhood in Beijing. His building overlooked the golf course. In the glittering lobby Kai had to prove his identity and pass through a metal detector before he went up in the elevator.
Wu opened the apartment door dressed in a pale-grey shirt and the trousers of a pin-striped suit. His cologne had a vanilla note. The place was luxurious, though nothing like as large as some of the apartments Kai had seen in the US. Wu took him through to a dining room where breakfast was laid out with gleaming silverware on a white linen cloth. Bone china dishes held steamed dumplings, rice porridge with prawns, fried dough sticks, and paper-thin crepes with a plum sauce. Wu believed in living well.
Kai drank some tea and talked while Wu ate porridge. He ran through the tanker dock project, the bombing, the drone, the claim of responsibility by SJS and the American allegation that the drone had been stolen. He showed Wu the photograph of the drone wreckage and gave him a copy of the Vulture file. All the while, the aroma of spicy food was making his mouth water. When he had finished speaking Wu told him to help himself to breakfast, and he gratefully took some dumplings and tried not to wolf them.
Wu said: ‘We have to retaliate.’
Kai had expected this. He knew it would be pointless to argue for no reprisals: that would never fly. So he began by agreeing. ‘When just one American is killed the White House reacts as if there has been a holocaust,’ he said. ‘Chinese lives are equally precious.’
‘But what form should our retaliation take?’
‘Our response should balance yin and yang,’ he said, edging towards an argument for moderation. ‘We must be strong, but not foolhardy; restrained, but never weak. The word should be retaliate – not escalate.’
‘Very good,’ said Wu, who was a moderate out of laziness rather than conviction.
The door opened and a dumpy middle-aged woman came in. When she kissed Wu, Kai realized she was Wu’s wife. He had not met her before, and he was surprised that she was not more glamorous. ‘Good morning, Bai,’ she said to her husband. ‘How is breakfast?’
‘Delicious, thank you,’ Wu said. ‘This is my colleague Chang Kai.’
Kai stood up and bowed. ‘I’m delighted to meet you,’ he said.
She smiled pleasantly. ‘I hope you got something to eat.’
‘The dumplings are wonderful.’
She returned her attention to Wu. ‘Your car is here, my dear.’ She left the room.
She was a complete contrast to Wu, thought Kai, but they were clearly a fond couple.
Wu said: ‘Have some more breakfast while I’m putting my tie on.’ He went out.
Kai took out his phone and called Peng Yawen, his secretary. ‘There’s a file called “Vulture” in my Africa folder,’ he said. ‘Send it immediately to Fu Chuyu, with copies to List Three – that’s the one with all ministers, generals and senior Communist Party officials. Attach the photo of the drone wreckage. Do it right away, please – I want these people to get the news from me, not from anyone else.’
