The Bear and the Dragon - Tom Clancy [114]
"Evaluation?"
"It feels right," the analyst said, reading over the page again. "It sounds like conversation. I mean, its unguarded, not official diplomatic-speak or even inside-minister-speak. So, it sounds like what it purports to be, the notes of a private, informal policy discussion between two senior colleagues."
"Any way to cross-check it?" MP asked next.
An immediate shake of the head. "No. We dont know much about either one of these guys. Zhang, well, we have the evaluation from Secretary Adler—you know, from the shuttle diplomacy after the Airbus shoot-down, which pretty well confirms what that Yamata guy told the Japanese police and our FBI guys about how the Chinese nudged them into the conflict with us, and what for. The PRC looks on eastern Siberia with covetous eyes," Sears reminded her, showing his knowledge of the PRC policies and objectives. "For Fang Gan, we have photos of him sipping mao-tai at receptions in his Mao jacket and smiling benignly, like they all do. We know hes tight with Xu, there are stories that he likes to play with the office help—but a lot of them do that—and thats about it."
It was good of Sears not to remind her that playing with the office help wasnt a character defect limited to China.
"So, what do we think about them?"
"Fang and Zhang? Well, both are Ministers Without Portfolio. So, theyre utility infielders, maybe even assistant coaches. Premier Xu trusts their judgment. They get to sit in at the Politburo as full voting members. They get to hear everything and cast votes on everything. They influence policy not so much by making it as shaping it. Every minister knows them. These two know all the others. Theyve both been around a long time. Both are well into their sixties or seventies, but people over there dont mellow with age like they do in America. Both will be ideologically sound, meaning theyre both probably solid communists. That implies a certain ruthlessness, and you can add to that their age. At seventy-five, death starts being a very real thing. You dont know how much time you have left, and these guys dont believe in an afterlife. So, whatever goals they have, they have to address pretty quick at that age, dont they?"
"Marxism doesnt mix well with humanity, does it?"
Sears shook his head. "Not hardly, and toss in a culture that places a much lower value on human life than ours does."
"Okay. Good brief. Here," she said, handing over ten printed pages. "I want a written evaluation after lunch. Whatever you might be working on now, SORGE is more important."
That meant a "seventh-floor tasking" to Dr. Sears. Hed be working directly for the Directors. Well, he had a private office already, and a computer that wasnt hooked into any telephone lines, even a local area network, as many of the CIAs puters were. Sears tucked the papers into a coat pocket and departed, leaving Mary Pat to look out her floor-to-ceiling windows and contemplate her next move. Really it was Eds call, but things like this were decided collegially, especially when the DCI was your husband. This time shed wander over to see him.
The DCIs office is long and relatively narrow, with the directors office near the door, well away from the sitting area. Mary Pat took the easy chair across from the desk.
"How good is it?" Ed asked, knowing the reason for her visit.
"Calling this SORGE was unusually prescient for us. Its at least that good."
Since Richard SORGE dispatches from Tokyo to Moscow might have saved the Soviet Union in 1941, that got Ed Foleys eyes to widen some. "Who looked at it?"
"Sears. He seems pretty smart, by the way. Ive never really talked to him