Darkness Under Heaven (16 page)

T
he meeting was held at the People's Liberation Army offices northwest of the Forbidden City because the troops from the Beijing Military Region now outnumbered both the police and People's Armed Police on the streets. Though the leadership had sent in the army they'd been careful not to declare martial law, since this was linked in the people's minds with the crushing of the Tiananmen student demonstrations in 1989. Now the official line was that
caiqui jieyan cuoshi,
or short-term limited use of martial law measures—as opposed to a formal declaration of martial law—was necessary to protect the people from foreign attack.

In Communist Party jargon a small-group meeting, or
xiaofanwei huiyi,
was an ad-hoc working group of ranking officials. In this case, the general mood among them was relief, and, as usual in any bureaucratic setting, self-congratulation was the order of the day.

“Latest reports are that the streets are quiet,” said Major General Liang Guang of the People's Liberation Army. The only warlike aspect of the general's appearance was a face like a chow dog—jowly and turned down in perpetual disapproval. Other than that he was shaped like a pear and had a habit of compulsively beating his burning cigarette
on the edge of the ashtray. If he hadn't been a general this would have made it hard for the others to concentrate on what he was saying. But generals were never assigned to the Beijing Military Region staff without demonstrating both high-level political influence and absolute ideological reliability. And it was widely known that General Liang had risen through the ranks not as a fighting soldier, but as a political commissar. “It is now clear that the majority of events last night were merely the masses expressing their joy.”

So that was the line. Colonel Ma Bai of the People's Armed Police, a paramilitary force under the control of the Public Security Ministry—more heavily armed than the police but less so than the army—eagerly took it up. “There were a few instances of beating, smashing and robbing by a tiny minority of troublemakers.”

The rest of the group shifted uneasily. Since no official would ever directly voice what was on their mind, terminology was everything in Chinese dialogue. It was common practice for everyone to minutely dissect every statement for the speaker's true meaning.
Jishaoshu,
or “tiny minority,” was a stock phrase used to belittle and isolate one's enemy. But
da za qiang,
or “beat, smash and rob,” was a set phrase used to describe Red Guard violence during the Cultural Revolution and therefore had strong negative connotations. Even if Colonel Ma had only misspoken, his choice of phrase would now mark him down for even closer scrutiny.

But Colonel Ma went on as if nothing had happened, lending credence to the theory that he had not misspoken but was, in fact, a fool. “Fortunately the presence of army, armed police, and police forces deterred many problems, and these unruly elements were swiftly dealt with. The
numbers were so small that it was not necessary to activate emergency detention camps outside the city,” he continued.

“And Chaowai and Sanlitun?” Until that moment Deputy Minister Wei Chongan had been sitting silently. Where the general was fat and angry the politician was fat and delicate. That, however, did not mean that he was less of a shark than the rest. He was in that room because senior officers of the army and security services would never be allowed to meet together without a Party representative present. Otherwise it might be thought that a coup was being contemplated. He would be reporting back to the Party Central Military Commission.

The others in the room were colonels, because generals and deputy ministers gave orders and colonels made sure they were carried out. The colonels were leaner because they were still hungry. A Chinese officer or official had to reach the rank of major general in order to retire with a house and office and car and driver and all the other perks.

“The foreign embassy areas are completely calm,” replied Colonel Shen Li of the Ministry of State Security, which unlike the spy agencies of most other countries also had the mission of counterintelligence. “Some small demonstrations by members of nations who would be expected to oppose our interests. They were encouraged to disperse peacefully and did not achieve the provocations they had hoped for.”

Deputy Minister Wei laid down the Party line. “Many delegations to the conference have been confused by events. We are working hard to explain to them that our country is exercising its legitimate right of self-defense. We hope to persuade the world community of this, and that this matter is an internal Chinese question. This is a high
national priority. Taiwan's aggression must not be allowed to ruin things. Our success in this area will be greatly helped by a stable security situation in the capital.”

This thinly veiled threat was recognized and noted by all.

Colonel Shen of State Security said, “Though the streets are calmed, our work in this area is complicated by the large number of foreign tourists. They are simply too many to contain without drastic measures.”

“It is the decision of the Standing Committee that no such measures be taken,” said Comrade Wei. “No matter the provocation or difficulty, we will continue to fulfill our duties as a friendly host to all visitors. It is the task of all security forces to maintain the calm and circumvent all problems. It is the judgment of the Standing Committee that Project 137 be put into effect.”

Project 137 was a wartime contingency plan. The Chinese had absorbed the lessons of Saddam Hussein and the U.S. strategic bombing of both Iraq and Serbia. After Saddam invaded Kuwait he rounded up Americans and other Westerners and detained them in strategic locations throughout Iraq. Those areas were not bombed as long as the hostages remained there. As soon as the detainees were released, Iraq was bombed. NATO's air war against Serbia had provided the Chinese with more lessons learned. They had sold the Serbs a great deal of military equipment and intelligence assistance, and felt that the bombing of their embassy in Belgrade during the NATO air campaign had been an intentional message, not an accident as NATO claimed.

Project 137 was a perfect example of Chinese pragmatism and Chinese ruthlessness. The security forces were under strict orders not to disrupt hotels or businesses, or
engage in any public roundups. But every American who attempted to leave the country through an airport or border crossing was quietly taken aside for what was ostensibly a security check and then secretly transported to facilities for indefinite detention. These prisoners could always be released later, but a good supply of American bargaining chips was valuable insurance.

“The Party's main worry now is that foreign agents will engage in acts of sabotage,” Comrade Wei continued.

“Known foreign agents have been located, detained and returned to their embassies, in accordance with orders,” said Colonel Shen of State Security. “Doubtless more will appear. But they will be deterred by our efforts.”

“By the army presence on the streets,” said General Liang. “And the protection of key persons and facilities by the Central Guard Unit and Garrison Divisions.”

The Garrison Divisions were the only Army units to be stationed in Beijing proper, and were therefore under the control of the Party Central Military Commission rather than the Army Military Region headquarters. As was the Central Guard Unit, an elite force responsible for the personal security of senior government, party and military leaders.

“That is all good,” said Comrade Wei, raising smiles around the table. “And what of the foreign agents who killed two of our soldiers?”

The smiles vanished, and everyone looked to the general. Which was one of the disadvantages of being a general. “Through the media, we have encouraged the masses to expose the criminals,” he said.

“This was perhaps hasty,” said Commissioner Zhou Deming of the Ministry of Public Security, speaking for the first time. He turned a clear plastic bag over in his
hands. Inside were two steel rods wrapped in bicycle tape. Peter Avakian's two homemade blackjacks, that he had immediately recognized.

No one had been expecting that, least of all the general. “Two soldiers are dead!” he boomed. “Revolutionary martyrs!”

Now all eyes turned to Commissioner Zhou, expecting him to show proper contrition and engage in self-criticism. “This is indisputable,” he replied. Though his tone left the question as to what exactly was indisputable, that the soldiers were dead or that they were revolutionary martyrs. However neutral the statement, that he had not begun with an apology was a not-so-subtle challenge to the general. The next sentence was a shot directly across his bow. “But these news broadcasts have only served to warn the American that he has been identified, and is being sought.”

The general looked fit to explode.

“Will this speed or delay his apprehension?” Comrade Wei asked.

State Security had also opposed releasing the information to the media. But if Public Security wished to oppose the army, Colonel Shen would allow them to do so alone.

“These American spies will never be able to leave the city or return to their embassy,” said the general. “If Public and State Security resolutely accomplish their work, the apprehension of these spies should not prove difficult.”

Having the gauntlet thrown down before State Security was another matter, and it roused Colonel Shen to action. “Now that the American has been alerted, our work will prove more difficult. He will find it easy to hide among the sea of foreigners in Beijing.”

The other colonels were impressed. Blame thrown back on the army, and the necessary groundwork laid to explain away the possibility of failure.

But one did not reach the rank of general by being a stranger to this game. “Was this American not under surveillance by State Security?” General Liang demanded.

“Yes,” Colonel Shen replied. “He was lost in the confusion of last night. So it was doubly unfortunate that, using only the handmade club Commissioner Zhou is now holding in his hands, he was able to overpower two armed soldiers and turn their weapons against them.”

The Party, in the person of Comrade Wei, stepped in before any more words were exchanged. “It is imperative that our relations with other foreign governments not be strained during these difficult hours. Their citizens who are our guests must be handled with utmost care. There is agreement on this?”

Everyone received the message that the bickering must cease. There was a chorus of: “Of course, Comrade Deputy Minister.”

“Eventually this sea of foreigners will be drained and the Americans found,” the general added.

“I believe it is crucial to our understanding of the situation to recognize that this man Avakian is a subtle, clever and dangerous operative,” said Commissioner Zhou. “An experienced Special Forces officer. Skilled in sabotage and terrorism.”

“All the more reason to catch him quickly,” said the general.

No visible reaction from the room, but nothing but contempt for the general's loss of face in retreating from Commissioner Zhou's challenge. They now all marked Zhou out as a man to watch, but for entirely different
reasons. To be unafraid to challenge the general he must have political support at the highest levels.

As for Commissioner Zhou, who in reality had no high-level supporter, he was thanking his adversary Peter Avakian. First, for teaching him that acting unexpectedly with the confidence of power was equivalent to actually possessing the reality of power. And second, for becoming the means by which he would advance himself. If the American did cause them problems, everyone at this table would remember his words.

“The Standing Committee desires to know whether this American was involved in the assassination,” said Deputy Minister Wei. “Is there a link between America and Taiwan in this matter? Colonel Shen?”

Commissioner Zhou particularly enjoyed this. He knew Avakian had not been involved but would say nothing—if the leadership wished to believe it, then the greater the reward for the one who captured him. State Security undoubtedly knew the same thing, but in China that made no difference. If the Party believed in an America-Taiwan conspiracy, then a conspiracy existed. But at that moment Colonel Shen of State Security was on the horns of a possibly career-ending dilemma, because with the Party line unclear he had no idea which position to take.

“As of now there are no firm conclusions,” Colonel Shen replied. “The discovery of further evidence and the interrogation of the American will provide definitive answers.”

Masterfully evasive, Zhou thought. Shen was clearly destined for general's stars.

“All the more reason to work together and take concrete action,” said Comrade Wei. “I emphasize that harmless Western visitors must be treated correctly. Antisocial
elements must not be encouraged. And any threats to social stability must not be permitted, particularly at the present time. I hope that we are all in agreement, and you join me in resolutely supporting these principles.”

An encore chorus of: “Of course, Comrade Deputy Minister.”

“Excellent. Then the Ministries of State Security and Public Security will take the lead in this effort, working in harmony, with the army rendering every assistance.”