Warshot (The Hunter Killer Series Book 6) by Don Keith (dark books to read TXT) 📕

we’d appreciate it if you’d make brief opening remarks and we’ll...maybe...have a few questions afterward. Okay?”

Li Zhou cocked her head and considered the senator for a long moment. She finally spoke, her voice strong, her face resolute, her eyes afire.

“Mr. Chairman, thank you. In the time it took you to introduce me, thirty-two children were born in China. That is over 1,900 every hour, almost sixteen million people per year. Despite what you may believe, virtually none of them will ever experience even the most basic of human rights or freedoms. Those who believe modern communications, the internet, or cable news will serve to inform and liberate the Chinese people by showing them a better way are, at best, delusional. And the communist government of my native country has long been using money, ironically obtained through their own version of capitalism, to...”

The senior senator from the state of Michigan, a four-term Democrat, abruptly and loudly closed his briefcase, stood, and stomped out of the hearing room. The senator had once personally intervened in and helped secure a huge Chinese investment in a renewable energy consortium in his state. One that had long since become defunct. He had heard enough.

Another member of the committee, the seventy-seven-year-old, six-term Republican from Mississippi, was jarred awake by the sound of his colleague’s briefcase slamming shut.

Li Zhou’s jaw tightened as she tried to remain calm.

“My father died in Tiananmen Square in Beijing on June 4, 1989. That day—my fourth birthday—brought to a bloody end the final realistic effort to bring any semblance of a free and open society to my country. Meanwhile, China has continued its mission to not only maintain brutal control over its own people but to gain influence around the world through the use of what I call ‘dollar diplomacy’ and they call the ‘Belt and Road Initiative,’ building industrial parks in Ethiopia, airports in Chile, shipping terminals and super-highways on Tonga, shopping malls in Nigeria, all with money loaned to those governments—who are often riddled with corruption—with no hope of ever repaying their debts other than capitulating to...”

“Miss Zhou, I’ve just been informed...” the chairman interrupted. Another staffer whispered in his ear. “Just been informed that the vote on the Senate floor is imminent. Is this information you were wanting to share this afternoon contained in the files you have left for us?”

“Yes, Senator, but...”

“Then we will recall you for further testimony at a future date, and we do appreciate y’all coming before this body...”

Li Zhou again cocked her head.

“Senator, what I hope to share with you could be the most crucial testimony to ever come before this committee. The most important information regarding the future of not only the United States but the entire...”

“I’m sure it is, Miss Zhou. I’m sure it is. But if we don’t get this banking bill shut down, we’ll all be in deep trouble come election time, considerin’ where most of us get our campaign funds these days. And you have no idea how much it costs, even for an incumbent to continue to serve his...”

With a bang of his gavel, the chairman closed the hearing.

Li Min Zhou sat there at the table, her lips still inches from the microphone, seething.

1

Yon Ba Deng greatly enjoyed the respite his commute offered him each morning. Once the three-car motorcade—a bodyguard in front, another behind, and his own Mercedes-Benz limousine sandwiched in the middle—left his sprawling home in the exclusive Jade Spring Hill section of Beijing, they passed through some of the most exclusive parts of the capital city. He could almost—but not quite—imagine a totally peaceful world existed beyond those gardens and ornamental gates. But then, he ultimately arrived at his ceremonial offices in the heavily guarded Zhongnanhai leadership compound, immediately adjacent to the Forbidden City. That would certainly nudge him back to reality.

This morning, Yon Ba Deng could smell the foliage from Jade Spring Hill’s quiet, park- like setting, even inside his vehicle with the bulletproof windows rolled up. Soon the red leaves would burst forth with their autumn splendor, announcing yet another winter was on its way. He watched the walled estates, the homes of the country’s ruling elite, as they passed, but they quickly gave way to the bustling Xicheng district with its many restaurants, clubs, and vibrant nightlife.

Beijing’s contrasts were always exciting to him. The juxtapositions. The anachronisms. That was what made living in modern China so invigorating.

But not today. Yon Ba Deng’s rising excitement came from an entirely different direction this late-summer morning. He had to consciously calm himself. For that, he relied on his Taoist training, willing his racing pulse to slow, sending his mind in search of inner calm. He smiled slightly as he watched his own reflection in the car window. Another juxtaposition. The ancient Taoist precepts being employed as a tool to assist his bold grasp for power in modern-day China. The ancients would smile at the paradox that presented. But they would certainly appreciate how Yon found the yin and yang of the situation perfectly comfortable and quite a useful tool in his quest.

The motorcade had just swung onto Lianhuachi West Road when Yon’s private cell phone buzzed, rudely interrupting his deep thoughts. The only people who had the number were his wife, who was back at home sleeping, his mistress, who was on holiday in Macau, and his administrative assistant, who never slept or went on holiday.

Yon checked the encryption setting on his phone and answered, “Yes, Bing Dou. This must be important for you to disturb the peace of my morning commute.”

His assistant was Yale-educated and had the knack—and the audacity—to always respond to his boss in his typical, somewhat sardonic, but classically honorific style.

“Elder brother, the vice deputy’s office has called twice already this morning to inquire about your schedule. What should be my response?”

Since he held the title of Assistant Vice Deputy to the Minister of National Defense for Naval Matters, Yon Ba Deng ostensibly worked for the