Free Plague Zone by Jeff Carlson Page A

the Communist Party, and Jia was hardly unfamiliar with the MSS officers in Los Angeles. Obviously someone had traced his signals to this room. But who had given the order to shut him down?
     
Two of the troopers stepped closer, patting at Jia’s uniform. “Don’t move,” the first one said, taking Jia’s sidearm and his combat knife. Then they relieved the rest of his team of their pistols, too.
     
Jia heard Yi’s headset mumble again and it was only with great discipline that he kept his back to their electronics. What was happening above Colorado and Wyoming? Did they need to concentrate their aircraft in other places?
     
We don’t have time for this! he thought.
     
More black uniforms paced into the room, creating an ever-greater obstacle for him to deal with before his team could return to their work, yet it wasn’t until one of the Second Department troops moved to disconnect the data jacks by the door that Jia spoke.
     
“Don’t touch those,” Jia said.
     
“Be quiet,” a different man snapped.
     
Jia immediately turned to direct his words at him. “This is a sanctioned operation,” he said. The officer might have frowned. Jia couldn’t be sure, because his face was obscured in the shadows of the floodlights behind him.
     
“You’re under arrest,” the officer said.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
The governor himself hurried into the room once a signal was given that Jia’s people had been secured. He was followed by a Ministry of State Security general. Jia snapped to attention, saluting General Zheng. All of the Second Department troops did the same, except two who continued to aim their submachine guns at Jia’s team.
     
“Are you mad!?” the governor asked, blustering. Shao Quan was an older man who wore his authority in traditional ways. At seventy-five, Shao was twice as old as anyone else in the room, and his hair was thin and gray on a round head like a nut, browned by the California sun. His business suit was conservative and dark, blue jacket, blue tie.
     
Jia kept his eyes straight ahead, holding his salute to General Zheng. He knew he could not let his agitation show. He noticed, however, that four of Governor Shao’s personal bodyguards had also entered the room, their assault rifles pointed at the floor.
     
“You’ve cost us years of work!” Shao yelled. “And for what? Bravado and revenge? You idiot!” He sneered at the insignia on Jia’s collar, perhaps amazed that a colonel could be so ambitious.
     
Every second you delay us is a chance for something to go wrong, Jia thought.
     
“Are you killing them!? What are you shooting at the Americans!?” Shao jabbed his finger at Jia’s display screens and then swung his arm toward General Zheng as if incriminating him as well. “Our forces are unready! Do you realize what another war would do to us now?”
     
“Sir,” Jia said, addressing the general.
     
Governor Shao continued to yell. “Shut it down!” he ordered the Second Department troops. They hesitated, glancing at Zheng for instructions. Shao’s voice became shrill. “Go! Move! Turn off their computers and take these men to interrogation.”
     
Shao emphasized the word men in his last sentence, staring at Dongmei. She was the only female in the crowded room. The young woman was still on her knees, like all of Jia’s team except Jia himself, which left her even more helpless. She was shaking, although she hid it well. Dongmei’s face was expressionless and her back was rigid, but her short bangs trembled above her dark eyes.
     
Shao’s old face was alive with power, and Jia felt revulsion and anger that one of his technicians might be singled out for any reason. He wouldn’t let them abuse her. “Sir!” he said, looking for General Zheng’s eyes.
     
“It might not be too late to stop the Americans from retaliating,” Shao said. Shao was also speaking to Zheng now, although he sounded as if he was rehearsing for a public statement. “This