Now they were getting somewhere.
“During World War II, refineries in Romania and Hungary supplied much of Germany’s oil. By 1944 those refineries had been bombed to oblivion, and not so coincidentally the war ended soon after. Stalin watched as Germany literally ran out of oil. He resolved that Russia would always be self-sufficient. He saw oil dependency as a catastrophic weakness to be avoided at any cost.”
Not a big shock. “Wouldn’t everyone?”
“Unlike the rest of the world, including us, Stalin figured out how to do it. A professor named Nikolai Kudryavtsev supplied him the answer.”
He waited.
“Kudryavtsev postulated that oil had nothing to do with fossils.”
He knew the conventional wisdom. Over millions of years an ancient primeval morass of plants and animals, dinosaurs included, had been engulfed by sedimentary deposits. Millions more years of heat and pressure eventually compressed the mix into petroleum, and gave it the name fossil fuel.
“Instead of being biotic, from once-alive material, Kudryavtsev said oil is abiotic—simply a primordial material the earth forms and exudes on a continual basis.”
He instantly grasped the implications. “It’s endless?”
“That’s the question that’s brought me here, Cotton. The one we have to answer.”
She explained about Soviet oil exploration in the 1950s that discovered massive reserves thousands of feet deep, at levels far below what would have been expected according to the fossil fuel theory.
“And it may have happened to us,” she said, “in the Gulf of Mexico. A field was found in 1972 more than a mile down. Its reserves have been declining at a surprisingly slow rate. The same thing has occurred at several sites on the Alaskan North Slope. It baffles geologists.”
“You’re saying wells replenish themselves?”
She shook her head. “I’m told it depends on the faulting in the surrounding rock. At the Gulf site the ocean floor is cut with deep fissures. That would theoretically allow the pressurized oil to move from deep below, closer to the surface. There’s one other thing, too.”
He could tell that, as usual, she’d come prepared.
“The geological age of the crude coming out of those wells I mentioned, the ones seemingly replenishing, is different than it was twenty years ago.”
“And that means?”
“The oil is coming from a different source.”
He also caught what else it meant.
Not from dead plants or dinosaurs.
“Cotton, biotic oil is shallow. Hundreds or a few thousand feet down. Abiotic oil is much deeper. There is no scientific way for organic material to end up so deep beneath the surface, so there has to be another source for that oil. Stalin figured that the Soviet Union could obtain a massive strategic advantage if this new theory about oil’s availability could be proven. He foresaw back in the early 1950s that oil would become politically important.”
He now grasped the implications, but wanted to know, “Why have I never heard of this?”
“Stalin had no reason to inform his enemies of what he learned, especially us. Anything published on this was printed in Russian, and back then few outside of the Soviet Union read the language. The West became locked into the fossil fuel theory and any alternative was quickly deemed crackpot.”
“So what’s changed?”
“We don’t think it’s crackpot.”
TANG LEFT THE PIT 1 MUSEUM AND STEPPED OUT INTO THE warm night. The plaza that encompassed the historical complex loomed still and quiet. Midnight was approaching.
His cell phone vibrated.
He removed the unit and noted its display. Beijing. He answered.
“Minister,” he was told, “we have good news. Lev Sokolov has been found.”
“Where?”
“Lanzhou.”
Only a few hundred kilometers to the west.
“He’s under close surveillance, and is unaware we are there.”
Now he could move forward. He listened to the particulars, then ordered, “Keep him under watch. I’ll be there in the morning. Early.”
“There is more,” his assistant said. “The supervisor at the drill site called. His message says you should hurry.”
Gansu lay two hundred kilometers north. The final stop on this planned journey. His helicopter waited nearby, fueled, ready to go. “Tell him I’ll be there within two hours.”
“And a final matter.”
His subordinates had been busy.
“Minister Ni has been inside Pau Wen’s residence for three hours.”
“Have you learned if Ni’s trip was officially sanctioned?”
“Not that we can determine. He booked the flight two days ago himself and left abruptly.”
Which only confirmed that Ni Yong possessed spies within Tang’s office. How else would he have known to go to Belgium? No surprise, but the depth of Ni’s intelligence network worried him. Precious few of his staff were aware of Pau Wen’s significance.
“Is Ni still within the compound?” he asked.
“As of ten minutes ago.”
“Have both Ni and Pau eliminated.”
SIXTEEN
NI FOCUSED ON THE INTERESTING WORD PAU WEN HAD USED.
Pride.
“We were once the greatest nation on earth,” the older man said. “Possessed of a proven superiority. During the Tang dynasty, if a foreign resident took a Chinese wife he was not allowed to leave China. It was deemed unthinkable to take a woman out of the bounds of civilization, to a lesser realm.”
“So what? None of that matters any longer.” He was frustrated and it showed. “You sit here, safe in Belgium, while we fight in China. You talk of the past as if it is easily repeated. My task is far more difficult than you imagine.”
“Minister, your task is no different from the tasks of many who have come before you. In my time there was no refuge from Mao. No public building was without a statue or bust of him. Framed pictures hung everywhere—on matchboxes, calendars, taxis, buses, planes. Fire engines and locomotives displayed giant photos fixed to the front, banked by red flags. Yet, as now, it was all a lie. Mao’s unblemished face rosy with health? That image bore no resemblance to the man. He was old and sick, his teeth blackened. He was ugly, weak looking.” Pau motioned at the bowl with fish swimming inside. “Then, and now, China is like fish in trees. Totally lost. Out of place. No hope to survive.”
Ni’s thoughts were in chaos. His moves after he returned home seemed no longer viable. He’d planned on initiating his quest for the premiership. Many were ready to assist him. They would start the process, recruiting more to their cause. But a new threat had arisen, one that might foretell failure.
He stared around at the courtyard, reminded of what his grandfather had taught him about feng shui.
Where one chose to live had great importance. How one orientated one’s house could be even more important. Face it south. Choose right and the hills are fair, the waters fine, the sun handsome.
His grandfather had been wise.
Amid confusion, there is peace. Amid peace, one’s eyes are opened.
He tried to take heed of that lesson and gather his thoughts back into order, telling himself to stay in control.
“Karl Tang recognizes China’s confusion,” Pau said. “He also understands the value of national pride. That is most important, Minister. Even as change occurs, no one can lose face, least of all the Party.”
“And this lamp is part of that plan?”
Pau nodded. “Tang is many steps ahead of you.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“That explanation would take far too much time, just accept that what I am saying is sincere.” Pau’s callused hand reached out and touched Ni on the arm. “Minister, you must adjust your thinking. It is good that you learned of Tang’s interest and traveled here, but the threat to China is greater than you realize.”
“What would you have me do?”
He hated himself for even asking guidance of this thief.
“You are a man to be respected. A man trusted. Use that.”
He was not impressed by Pau’s flattery.
Truth would be better.
“A few hours after she left this house, Cassiopeia Vitt was taken prisoner by Tang. She managed to hide the lamp before being captured, and I know where. I planned to retake it myself, but the task should now belong to you.”
The extent of Pau’s deceit became clear. He’d played Ni from the start. And Ni did not like it. But since he had no choice, he asked, “Why is that lamp so important?”
“The fact that you do not know the answer to that question is proof of how far behind Karl Tang you truly are.”
He couldn’t argue with that. “How do I gain ground?”
“Retrieve the lamp, return to China, then locate a man named Lev Sokolov. He works for the Ministry of Geological Development, in Lanzhou, but he is presently in hiding. Tang abducted his son and is using the boy as leverage to obtain Sokolov’s cooperation. I am told Sokolov is the person who can explain the lamp’s significance.”
“Cooperation for what?”
“That is for you to discover.”
Though he sensed Pau Wen well knew. “My information network is extensive, especially regarding Tang. When I learned of his interest in the lamp, I came here personally. Yet not a hint of anything you have said has ever come to my attention.”
“Which should make you question your staff. Perhaps there is a spy among them? You will have the lamp soon enough. Return home and find Sokolov.”
“And what of those eunuchs who surround me? The ones you say I should fear.”
“They will show themselves.”
“Is Tang also in danger from them?”
“Obviously not.”
“How do I know who they are?”
Pau grinned. “Once, we would have a change of voice, an unpleasant falsetto. Beardless, we became soft and fat with little strength. As we aged, that weight shed and deep wrinkles appeared in our faces. The lack of testosterone also manifested itself in odd emotions—we were quick to anger and tears. None of that is true today. Modern supplements mask all side effects, especially if the man is not castrated until adulthood, which is generally the case. Know that it will be nearly impossible, without a visual inspection, for you to know.”
“Is Tang after Sokolov?”
Pau nodded. “With all the resources he can muster.”
Ni would have to verify everything he’d learned before becoming a convert. “Where is the lamp hidden?”
“Inside the Dries Van Egmond Museum, in Antwerp. It holds a private collection of art and furniture from the 17th and 18th centuries. Cassiopeia Vitt hid the lamp in a boudoir, on the third level, decorated in the Chinese style, that includes some unremarkable Ming porcelain. I have visited there myself. Perhaps she thought it would go unnoticed, at least for a few days. Or if it was noticed, the museum staff would safeguard it. Not a bad decision, considering she had so few options.”
Pau telling him the location seemed some verification that the older man was finally being truthful.
“I should go.”
“Before you leave,” Pau said, “I have one more thing to show you.”
He accompanied his host back into the house, following a long corridor to a black lacquered door. On the other side, a wooden staircase wound upward inside a rectangular tower. An open doorway appeared at the top of the stairs. Beyond shone the afternoon light, its warmth allowed in through bare window frames that wrapped all four walls.
“Stay here,” Pau said. “Just inside the doorway. That way we won’t be visible from outside.”
He wondered about the subterfuge.
“If you will glance around the corner,” Pau said, “there will be an excellent view of the front drive. Past that, at the highway, you will see a vehicle parked in the woodlands, perhaps half a kilometer away from the main entrance.”
He did as instructed, squinting in the bright sunlight and spotting a car, barely visible in the thick trees.
“Careless people,” Pau said, behind him. “They work for Tang. They watch this house. Not always. They come and go. But they have been here often the past two days.”
“Is that how you suspected Tang would come for the lamp?”
“It seemed logical.”
In the distant shadows he saw the front grille of another car brake beside the parked one. Two men exited each car, assault rifles being shouldered.
Fear pricked his spine.
The men advanced toward the gray walls, walking toward the open front gate.
“That’s somewhat unexpected,” Pau calmly said.
Men with guns were approaching, and all this man could say was unexpected.
He was concerned.
Greatly.
SEVENTEEN
MALONE ASSESSED THE STARTLING INFORMATION STEPHANIE was providing.
“The Western mind-set,” she said, “is that oil is a fossil fuel. Remember, back in the 1960s, when all the Sinclair gas stations displayed a dinosaur as a trademark? There were TV commercials that showed dinosaurs dying, decaying, and turning into oil. Ask ten people where oil comes from and they all would say dead dinosaurs.”
He recalled the ads she was referring to, and he had to admit that he, too, had been indoctrinated. Oil was a fossil fuel, a finite resource.
“Imagine, Cotton, if oil is infinite. The earth produces it continually, as a renewable resource. The Russians have long believed this.”
“Stephanie, what does any of this have to do with Cassiopeia?”
A chill had crept into the late-afternoon air. Ivan would return shortly, and they would all leave for Antwerp. He must understand the problem before then.
“Ever heard of the Dniepr-Donetsk basin in eastern Ukraine?”
He shook his head.
“In the 1950s the area was abandoned as a prospective place to drill. No potential for oil production was the conclusion of the survey team. We know this because an American well driller, a man named J. F. Kenney, was part of the team that studied the site with the Russians. No source rock for fossil fuels was located there.” She paused. “Today, that basin contains more than 400 million barrels of proven reserves, found deep underground. The man who determined that to be the case is Lev Sokolov. He was a Russian expert on the abiotic theory of oil.”
“How do we know that the survey team in the 1950s wasn’t just wrong, and there was oil there all the time?”
“It happened again. On the Kola Peninsula, in northern Russia. Another place that had no prospect of production—under the fossil fuel theory. Yet the Russians drilled down seven miles and hit methane gas. No one ever believed that methane would be found that deep in granite rock. The fossil fuel theory would never support the finding, but the gas was right where Sokolov predicted.”
“And now Washington is finally interested in all this.”
“With a vengeance. This could change the world balance of power, which explains why Karl Tang is interested. Ivan’s right. Tang’s a threat to us all. If he assumes control of China, the destabilization across the region, across the globe, will be enormous. Especially if he has unlimited oil at his disposal.”
“President Daniels wants Tang stopped?”
“Actually, Cotton, we want him dead.”
He understood the enormity of the statement. America did not officially assassinate people.
But it happened.
“And you’re hoping the Russians do the deed?”
She shrugged. “Enough that I forced myself into their business. Ivan wasn’t happy to see me. Bad enough that Sokolov was alive, he sure did not want us involved.”
“How did he know about me?”
“From those two couriers, is my guess. When the one brought that note to your shop, his men were watching.”
She’d left something out. “And where were you?”
“Watchin
g too. He informed me about your meeting at Tivoli only after you were already on your way there.”
“So you already knew some of what Ivan told you back in the café?”
She nodded. “I did. I figured we’d have a talk.”
“What did you know about Cassiopeia?”
“I had no idea she was being tortured.”
He believed her on that one.
“We’ve done the math, Cotton. If Tang becomes premier, he will undo fifty years of hard-fought diplomacy. He thinks China has been mistreated by everyone and he wants retribution. He’ll reassert Chinese dominance any way and every way he can. Right now, we keep China in line thanks to its foreign energy dependence. We maintain a sixty-day oil reserve, and Japan keeps a hundred. China has barely ten days’ worth. A naval blockade could easily choke the country into submission. Eighty percent of China’s imported oil passes through the Strait of Hormuz or the Strait of Malacca. Those are a long way from China, and we control both.”
“So they behave themselves, knowing what we could do?”
“Something like that, though the threat is never voiced. Bad form, when dealing with the Chinese. They don’t like reminders of weakness.”
He was glad not to be a diplomat.
“If Tang has unlimited oil available to him,” she said, “we’ll lose what little leverage we have. China practically controls the world currency markets now, and they are the number one lender to us. Though we don’t like to admit it, we need China. If Chinese oil wells flow forever, they’ll be able to expand their economy at will, force whatever policies they want, unconcerned about what anyone cares or thinks.”
“Which makes Russia nervous.”
“Enough that they just might take Karl Tang out.”
Okay, he was convinced. This was serious.
“I know you may think me foolish. But believe me, I’ve hedged my bets. I’m not relying on Ivan 100 percent. Still—”
“You need a little more help.”
“Something like that.”
“I assume that means we have to find Sokolov before Ivan does. And Cassiopeia seems the fastest route in.”
She nodded. “Let’s play the Russian’s game and find her. If Ivan can stop Tang along the way, then that’s good for us. If not, I need your help getting Sokolov away from them.”