The White Mandarin by Dan Sherman

Author:Dan Sherman [Sherman, Dan]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Open Road Media Mystery & Thriller
Published: 2014-04-01T00:00:00+00:00

Now came a period of maturation. Within a month there were two more submissions from the mainland, both containing high-quality material from the scientific sector. Next there was a lengthy report on naval maneuvers in the south and northern air-strike capacity. Finally there were rapid deliveries concerning Central Committee disputes and a magnificent piece on the mechanization of the Red Army. Within Langley each of these submissions was met with greater praise, while Sagan's annual budget rose another quarter.

December and January saw the steady flowering of the operation now known as Moonset, with two submissions a month. Again the product met only the highest praise, even from traditionally difficult clients. Those close to Sagan would recall that if he had become unsufferably vain, at least his vanity retained some style. He was dressing exceptionally well.

There was, however, still one dissenting voice amidst the celebration. A memo from Simon Crane to Norman Pyle after a lengthy evaluation on the seventh week: "Admittedly the material is good. Indeed, it is very good. But given the individuals involved, I can only wonder what the ultimate cost will be."

If at the time there were those who were confused by Crane's terse pronouncement, in retrospect it can only be said that the memo must stand as one of the keenest indications of foresight. It was just into the new year, a Monday morning, and Sagan had come together with Jerry Woo once again.

As before, their conversation was held in the library of Feng's home. Again there was a piece that Sagan had never seen before: a silk screen of three gibbons perched in a tree, the shadow of a man passing beneath them.

Woo himself was like a shadow today, entirely in black silk. His hair was combed back, accenting the bones in his face. Their opening moment together was stiff. Sagan inquired as to Feng Chi's health, but received no definite answer. Then tea was served, and as Sagan drank he felt Woo's eyes on him. From an adjoining room came the faint notes of an out-of-tune piano.

Then Woo said simply, "Do you recall when I told you that the day would come when Mr. Feng would ask a favor of you?" Sagan let his eyes fall away to the corner of the room. A bowl of lilacs had been laid on a black table. "Well, it would appear that day has come."

Then Sagan raised his eyes again and said, "What do you want?"

"We are having difficulty with the transportation of certain products."

"What products?"

"I think you know."

"Opium?"

"Yes."

"And you want to use my planes to bring it out of Burma?"

"Yes."

"It's out of the question."

But Woo only smiled. "We calculate that merely two or three aircraft would fulfill our needs. And of course the pilots would be generously paid."

"I'm sorry, Jerry. If it was anything else, but Washington will never stand for something like that."

"But, Mr. Sagan, this is not Washington's concern. This is a personal matter between you and Mr. Feng."

Later, by the outer gate, Woo

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