Dark Ambition by Allan Topol Read Free Book Online Page B

dearly departed." He laughed and she did too. "Did I really use all of those words?" he said.
    "Yeah. And you also called him a despicable, whoring peckerhead."
    * * *
    Chip Donovan sipped scotch and ran his hand through his thick gray hair. From his suite in the sophisticated and luxurious Ritz Landis Hotel, he overlooked downtown Taipei. It was already thirty minutes past midnight. Chen Heng was half an hour late. Was it possible he wouldn't show?
    It was ridiculous for Donovan to have made the trip from Washington. This wasn't a journey for the head of special operations at the CIA. It was a job for someone on his staff. Sherman, who operated throughout Asia under the cover of a representative of a high-tech venture capitalist, was the logical choice. Sherman had helped plan Operation Matchstick. Donovan should have insisted that Sherman cover this meeting.
    As those thoughts ran through his mind, Donovan knew why he had to come. He had recruited Chen more than a decade ago at the time of the protests in support of the students in Tiananmen Square. Chen needed delicate handling, and he was the one to whom Chen responded. Now that they were close to launching Operation Matchstick, Chen would be having anxiety attacks, and for good reason. Only Donovan could keep Chen on board.
    Donovan heard a sudden knock at the door. Tensing, he reached for his gun. "Who's there?" he called.
    "It's Chen."
    Donovan relaxed. Dressed in his usual black suit with a black turtleneck shirt, he crossed the room and opened the door. "You're late."
    "I'm sorry. My father insisted that I come to his house this evening. He wanted to give me more instructions about the plant in Shanghai."
    Alarmed, Donovan said, "He doesn't know you're working with me, does he?"
    "No, of course not. He wants to know when I'm ready to go over."
    "What'd you say?"
    "I dodged the question. I was ready to go last week. Then I got your fax, telling me the purchase order was on hold until further notice."
    "It was."
    "And now?"
    Donovan looked around the room. He had swept it for bugs. Still, he didn't want to say anything too explicit. "Operation Matchstick is back on. How soon can you leave for Shanghai?"
    Worry lines appeared on Chen's forehead. "Not tomorrow. My older son, Teddy, has a championship baseball game. He's pitching." Chen sighed in resignation. "I guess I can go on Monday."
    "Monday is good."
    "Will you be able to reassemble the other pieces in time?"
    "Everything will be set. Assume that Monday is day one and count from then on the original schedule."
    "What about the Chinese army units?"
    Donovan answered tersely, "I told you, everything will be set."
    Chen responded by taking off his wire-framed glasses and cleaning them with a handkerchief. He didn't have to say a word. Donovan knew that he was trying to decide whether to tell Donovan to shove it and return to his normal life.
    Afraid of losing him, Donovan softened. "It's important for your people, what you're doing." He had to keep reminding himself that Chen wasn't a professional. This was Chen's first operation. He was putting his life on the line.
    After more work on him, emphasizing the value of the operation to the people of Taiwan, Chen yielded.
    They sealed their agreement with a drink. Operation Matchstick was back on track.
    After Chen left, Donovan waited a full hour to exit the hotel. He walked a half dozen blocks before ducking into a dimly lit bar. It took a few moments of peering and looking around the smoke-filled room where bar girls entertained their customers before he recognized the man he was looking for—Peng, a senior member of the Taiwanese intelligence service. Peng worked out of a trade mission in Paris, but had flown home at Donovan's request. The two men had collaborated on a number of operations aimed at China over the last decade.
    Peng was sitting in an almost pitch-dark corner of the room, drinking beer from a glass and smoking a cigarette. After nodding to him,