First Strike

“He was expecting to speak to me,” said Chance.

“So why send the note?” Jade asked. “Why not just come over and chat?”

“Perhaps he felt guilty about what happened last time we met,” said Rich.

“Guilty—Ralph?” Chance shook his head. “Yes, I know he set us up against the Mafia, and planted a bomb on you, Rich. But he won’t have any regrets about that. His overriding concern is always for himself and how he can turn a profit. So it’s more likely the champagne was a peace offering. He wanted to make sure I’d hear him out, not punch him out.”

“It was a risk,” Ardman said. He opened the lid of his teapot and poked at the teabag inside with a spoon. “He’s a wanted man in this country, remember. Oh, he can slip in and out on a false passport easily enough, but making contact with someone who’d recognise him is a big risk. He has no reason to think you’d be friendly towards him. Yet he wanted to tell you something. And not over the phone, but in person.”

“And he got shot,” Rich added.

“Which suggests whatever he had to say was important.” Ardman gave up on the teapot and read the note again. “I don’t care for his choice of the word nuclear.”

“He might not mean it literally,” said Chance.

“It’s a shame we can’t ask him yet.”

“How’s he doing?” Rich asked. The doctors had been vague when they had spoken to them, but he thought they might have been more open with Ardman.

“Not good,” Ardman said. “They’ve operated, as you know, and removed the bullet from his lung, but he’s still in a coma. He may come out of it in the next day or two. Or the next month or so. Or never.”

“So the note really is all we have,” said Jade.

“Well, we do have a good idea of who the sniper was,” Chance pointed out.

“I’d almost rather we didn’t.” Ardman leaned back in his chair as he considered. “Another false passport job, I suspect. I really must talk to the borders and immigration people about how she got here undetected. But a more pressing question is, why does Colonel Shu, one of the most wanted war criminals in the world, go to the trouble and expense of coming to an out-of-town diner in deepest, darkest Gloucestershire to kill a gentleman—I use the term loosely—who runs one of the most successful crime syndicates in Eastern Europe?”

“And why do it just as the province she’s trying to liberate is being invaded by the Chinese?” Rich added.

Ardman frowned. “Not invaded, please. It is a Chinese province; they’re just asserting their rule.”

“Is she working for this Marshal Wieng?” Jade asked.

“Almost certainly,” her father told them. “They’ve fought together since the rebellion really got going in the 1990s. Not that Wiengwei was ever quiet. Marshal Wieng claims to be a direct descendent of the original Emperor Wieng Tso—an equally war-like man who founded the province, and gave his name to it.”

“And is he a descendent?” asked Rich.

“Doesn’t matter,” Ardman said. “The point is that the claim has focused the rebels and garnered them more support. Whether it’s true or not won’t make a difference now. After the Red Army rooted out most of the rebels in 1998, the province has been kept under tight control. But the Chinese took their eye off the ball rather; distracted by earthquakes and Olympics, among other things. That gave Marshal Wieng the opportunity to come out of hiding and start gathering new support.”

“Does this Marshal Wieng have nukes?” Rich asked. “Could that be what Ralph meant?”

“The Chinese used to have a couple of strategic missile bases in the province,” Ardman said, “but nowhere near the areas where the rebels are active. The bases are still there, but the missiles were withdrawn and decommissioned back in the eighties.”

“I guess we just have to hope that Ralph pulls through,” said Chance.

“He’s a rogue,” Ardman said thoughtfully. “But you know I do actually quite like the man.”

“Me too,” Rich agreed. “Even if he did plant a bomb on me.”

“He helped us in Krejikistan,” said Jade. “And he was being threatened by the Mafia last time we met, so he didn’t have much choice.”

They sat in silence for a while. Then Ardman said: “Oh, they found the car, by the way. Abandoned and torched. Not much hope we’ll learn anything there.” He stood up. “I’d better be getting back to the office. The doctors here know to call me immediately if there’s any change and I’ll let you know at once. But I expect you’ll be in Washington before anything happens.”

“It’ll give us something to tell the President,” Rich joked.

Rich, Jade and their father had been invited to a special reception at the White House. It was a way for the President to thank them for saving his life after some trouble in the Middle East a few weeks previously. Rich had hoped for a medal, but since the whole incident was being kept secret, a White House reception was the next best thing.

“We should be getting back too,” said Chance to the twins.

“There’s a little shop here,” said Jade. “I think I’ll take Ralph some flowers before we go.”

“He won’t see them,” Rich told her.

“He will when he wakes up. And he might smell them.”

“I’ll walk you back to your car,” Chance told Ardman. “Meet me at the main entrance,” he said to Rich and Jade.

“I’ll come with you,” Rich told his dad.

“You’ll go with Jade.”

“Oh right—you’re doing secret talk. No kids allowed, I get it.”

Chance smiled. “Don’t let your sister spend too much on the flowers.”

It seemed miles back to Ralph’s private room. Jade and Rich had been allowed only a minute in there before. Just long enough to see that Ralph appeared to be sleeping peacefully. But the constant bleep of a heart monitor and the drips and wires attached to Ralph suggested otherwise.

The plain-clothes police officer sitting outside the door had smiled sympathetically at them when they left. But now his chair was empty.

“I thought he was supposed to be on guard all the time?” said Rich.

Jade had opted for an arrangement that came in its own vase, and had to peer round the enormous bouquet to see what he meant.

“Maybe he’s checking on Ralph.”

There was a small, round window set high in the door. Rich looked through, and saw that there was someone in the room. A female doctor or nurse in her white coat was checking the monitoring equipment.

“He’s not in there.”

The flowers brushed against Rich’s cheek as Jade joined him at the window.

“He’s just nipped off to the loo or to get a coffee or something while the doctor’s here.”

Jade didn’t bother to knock. She just opened the door and walked in.

Rich was right behind her. Jade looked round for somewhere to put down the vase of flowers, but Rich was facing the doctor as she turned. He had barely registered her black hair before, but as she turned he saw the slight bulge under the back of her coat where the long plait hung down. And he saw the mismatched eyes that stared at him in anger—one green and one blue.

Without thinking, Rich grabbed the vase from Jade, and hurled it across the room.