Death Minus Zero. Don Pendleton

the soft, cream-colored leather seat, savoring the mellow whiskey. He could still hear Zhou grumbling to himself.

      It was, he realized, definitely going to be a long flight—around fifteen hours with a stop for refueling. All that time with Yang Zhou sitting across from him. As much as Chan recognized the man as an expert in his work, he was not so impressed with Zhou’s social skills.

      From what he knew of the man, it was obvious Zhou had little in the way of a social life. He gave himself to the job, denying pleasure and spending much of his off-duty time in his office. A strange and reclusive life, Chan decided, but one Zhou chose.

      Chan tried to push the negative thoughts out of his mind, concentrating on the task ahead.

      He was looking forward to meeting Dr. Luc Melier again. It had been some time since he had been involved with the man. Melier, Chinese-French, was an excellent choice to work on Kaplan. He resided in France and refused to travel very far to carry out his work, which was why Chan was coming to meet him.

      Melier’s reputation as a skilled manipulator was without equal. Chan had seen him on other occasions, working to break through stubborn minds. He did it with comparative ease, very seldom having to resort to anything close to violence—not that it was ruled out entirely because there were times when the minimal amount of force could tilt the balance.

      That would be where Zhou came into his own. The man had no kind of conscience when it came to using brutal methods. It was quite an education watching the man at work; the only thing that troubled Chan was how Zhou obviously took great pleasure inflicting hurt on others. Yet there was a place for Zhou, and Chan never interfered when it came time to employ the man’s talents.

      An hour into the flight, Zhou fell asleep. He had already eaten, downed a couple more whiskies and had even stopped grumbling. Chan hoped the man might sleep for the rest of the flight. He doubted that would happen.

      He took tea when Kai offered it, not yet ready for food himself, allowing a pleasured smile when her slim, warm hand brushed his as she passed him his drink. When she left, he slid a file from his attaché case and spent some time going through work-related documents. There was, he thought, always something that needed his attention. Not that he minded. Xia Chan was dedicated to his profession, the demands of his position keeping him fully occupied. At present it was the Zero Project that demanded his time. Though it was a consuming matter, Chan did not regret a second. It was the single most important thing in his life at the moment. Sanctioned by the supreme authority in the country and placed in Chan’s hands, he understood that nothing of such importance would come his way again and he was aware of the honor that had been bestowed upon him.

      Failure was something he refused to even consider.

      It would not happen.

      He would breathe his last before he would concede victory.

      * * *

      THEY MADE THEIR one stop for refueling and then continued with the flight. Chan was able to steal a little time with Kai as Zhou settled back in his reclined seat, covered in a pair of blankets. In the well-appointed galley, she came into his arms and they allowed themselves some personal time. For Chan it was a welcome distraction from the demands of his office and Kai gave him much to think about. She was as skilled as she was beautiful, and Chan found himself briefly allowing his demanding mission to be pushed aside.

      * * *

      THE LONG FLIGHT ended in late afternoon. The Gulfstream took a lengthy sweep as it lined up on the single runway of the private airfield and made a fast approach, with barely a jolt as it touched down. It slowed and cruised to the parking area, coming to a gentle stop adjacent to the small airport building.

      Chan had rested, worked and was in a pleasurable mood.

      “Colonel, it may be cold when you disembark,” Kai said. “I have your overcoat here.”

      “Thank you, my dear.” Chan stood and allowed her to assist him in putting on the long coat. “The flight has been made bearable by your presence once again, Jui. I am so pleased you are here.”

      “Of course, Colonel. The aircraft will be serviced and refueled for your convenience.”

      Chan touched her shoulder, a pleasant thought filling his head. “Perhaps you would join me for a meal when I have some free time. Come and see where we are working. The house is a delight. I am sure you would enjoy seeing it.”

      “That would be my pleasure, Colonel Chan.”

      “Then I will send my driver for you.”

      “I look forward to that and seeing you once more.”

      They said no more while there was the chance of being overheard.

      Having spent the flight sleeping and sipping whiskey, Yang Zhou roused himself from his reclined seat to gaze through the window. He stared out at the ranks of snowcapped mountain peaks rising above the green forests of fir and pine. Above the high crags the sky was crystal-clear and blue.

      Chan smiled at the man’s discomfort. He took his attaché case and made for the now open exit. As he stepped onto the tarmac he breathed in the fresh, cold air. It felt good. Zhou, still fastening his own coat, was muttering under his breath, not at all happy. As they moved away from the Gulfstream, Kai, who had followed them out, said quietly, “I will look forward to your call, Colonel.”

      Chan smiled at her. “It will come,” he said. “I promise you that, my dear.”

      He paused and patted his companion on the shoulder.

      “Zhou, welcome to Switzerland,” he said.

       CHAPTER THREE

      Hal Brognola, head of the covert operations based at Stony Man Farm, walked beside the President of the United States. They were at Camp David, where the President was taking a brief respite from the demands of the job. But even while he tried to wind down, he still maintained a hands-on attitude. The Commander in Chief never truly stepped away from his responsibilities, which was why he had requested Brognola’s presence to discuss a matter that was on his mind.

      The tranquil atmosphere of the presidential retreat surrounded the pair as they strolled through the grounds. Unobtrusive Secret Service men followed them at a discreet distance. Brognola and the President were wearing thick topcoats against the chill of the wintery weather. The odd snowflake drifted between them. There was a promise of more in the air.

      “You’ve probably worked out why I asked you to join me, Hal.”

      “Kaplan going missing? We already got the word from Doug Buchanan. He picked up on Kaplan’s tracker going off-line and the failure of the device fitted to the Air Force vehicle. Agent Valens briefed us, as well. So we know about Kaplan going missing, which brings Zero into the picture.”

      “Am I ever going to catch you Stony Man people out?” the President said.

      “I hope not. If you ever do, Mr. President, that will be the day I resign.”

      “Don’t even think about it, Hal.” The President paused to stare around him at the tranquil scene. “I sit in my office at the White House, door closed, hoping to catch a minute. Never works. But coming here is a different ball game. Just walking through these trees, surrounded by silence...it gives me space to sort out what’s buzzing around in my head.”

      “And right now that’s Saul Kaplan,” Brognola concluded.

      “We have to find him, Hal. Get him back alive and well.” The President hesitated before he said, “The bottom line would be to say if he can’t be retrieved then his life might have to be forfeit. I hate having to even think about that, Hal, but the knowledge Kaplan has must not be allowed to remain in enemy hands.”

      “I understand that, Mr. President. Stony Man is already on this,” Brognola said.

      He knew that even