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

visiting the Chinese capital. Its opulence was also favored by the many bureaucrats who worked in the area. But while the courtyard house was, indeed, a couple of centuries old, the high-class and very expensive King Joy Restaurant was, in reality, owned by a Taiwanese businessman. And it was highly unlikely that an Imperial Court official, no matter how minor his station, had ever served as a doorman at the place.

Min Zhou entered a small reception hall where the maître d’ greeted her with another deep, formal bow. He was dressed in an apricot-colored jifu dragon robe, an outfit with even more gold embroidery than the one the doorman wore.

It was no longer unusual for an unescorted female to arrive at the King Joy. Many patrons met their mistresses here. And even officially sanctioned businesses as well as the communist government were now more populated with women than even a few years ago.

The maître d’ escorted her through an outer courtyard heavy with the scent of potted shrubs and flowers. Next, he led her through the festooned gate to an impressive inner courtyard, an area that was entirely glassed over, creating a large, airy dining room.

As she walked across the cobblestones of the courtyard, Li Min Zhou was more than aware that every male eye in the large room watched her. Her deep-blue silk dress clung to just the right curves, and the stiletto heels, along with the skirt’s high slit, accentuated her long, shapely legs. The effect was intended to draw attention.

However, she was looking for only one pair of eyes. And there he was.

TJ Dillon sat alone at a small table along the west wall, studying his menu as he tapped his ear. That gesture told Li Min Zhou that the microphone and tiny radio transmitter she was wearing were working fine.

Finally, the maître d’ escorted Li Min Zhou toward a secluded table near the back of the room at the southeast corner of the courtyard, one mostly hidden behind an ornately carved screen. She could just make out through the screen that someone was sitting at the table. As she had anticipated, the party she was to meet was already present and seated.

Li Min Zhou stepped around the screen and into the secluded alcove. The dimly lit corner was illuminated only by a pair of tapers. Their flickering light and shadow played on the red silk damask wall covering.

“Good evening. I suppose introductions are in order,” the middle-aged gentleman told her as he rose and extended a hand. “I am Yon Ba Deng. I assume you are Wang Fang.” She nodded, smiling, as she took the offered hand and shook it before sitting across the table from him. “I must say that I was a bit surprised when my assistant informed me that I had a dinner meeting scheduled for this evening. It is rare that the office of the Chairman of the Military Commission calls and requests that I attend a discreet, off-the-record dinner.” He smiled, disarmingly. “And if I may be frank, I was expecting some elderly and overweight Party functionary who most likely wanted to discuss the merits of his son or nephew immediately assuming command of one of our aircraft carriers or some such.”

Li Min Zhou allowed herself a half smile as she acknowledged his little joke. The man’s curiosity was apparent.

“And I am Wang Fang. I hope I am not disappointing you, then. I have heard much about you and I wanted to meet you, personally and outside the office. I am afraid that I need to confess to calling in a favor with the chairman’s office to arrange our dinner and conversation. I thought that would save some time and avoid a lot of unwanted questions if I used this particular route.”

A waiter was there already. After ordering their drinks and meals, Yon Ba Deng placed his hands flat on the table and looked directly at Li Min Zhou.

“When the ‘invitation’ came, I, as you would expect, made some discreet inquiries. Normally, my sources are quite effective in finding whatever information I need, particularly within the Party.” He flipped his hands up. “This time they mostly came up empty. Practically nothing. Could you explain why someone who clearly has the ear of the Chairman of the Military Commission has left so few footprints?”

Li Min Zhou looked directly into his eyes.

“I am not surprised. Let us simply say that my contacts are very discreet even though they extend to a very high level. Allow me to strongly suggest that you leave it at that. And that you make no further inquiries about me or my association with others. Be assured that it could prove, ah…let us say...embarrassing for you. At this point, that will have to satisfy your boundless curiosity.”

Yon Ba Deng frowned but nodded. He understood that she had given him a warning. Whether or not he would heed it was a different matter. That would depend on the remainder of the conversation.

The waiter arrived with two glasses of wine. Li Min Zhou tasted hers while Yon watched her.

“Ah, an excellent vintage,” she remarked. “Even the French cannot produce a better Bordeaux than the 2009 Yantai.” She swirled the wine gently in its glass and sniffed the bouquet approvingly. “Now, let us attempt to make the conversation as pleasant as the wine.”

He took a sip of his own drink. Li Min Zhou could tell from the man’s expression that he had not appreciated it at all.

“To get to the heart of the matter,” she continued, “we are well aware of your ambition for advancement, in the military bureaucracy and beyond. We are also quite aware of your ongoing conflict with Soo Be Xian.” The man still held the wine glass, but his eyes had widened ever so slightly. She knew he was on highest alert now. “The people with whom I work have been impressed with the gains you have made in your position as well as the way you