Admiral Yin Po L’un’s head was reeling in confusion. This… this was too strange. It had to be a trick of some kind. But what? This charade was different than any other kind of interrogation or con scheme he’d ever heard of — it didn’t make sense. At least to him. A foreign militia commander laying down his weapons before a prisoner, then asking the prisoner to take over? It was absurd.
Yin sat back in the bed, trying to absorb it all. Maybe they had given him drugs and weren’t admitting to it. But what would be the purpose of this… acting?
For a moment everyone in the room simply stared at him. As if waiting for his word…
He wanted to shake his head, to think clearly. And yet he
So if he was okay…
Then was this real?
What if it was?
This di Silva character didn’t look insane — perhaps he was who he said he was, and he really meant what he said. If so… what an opportunity! To occupy a strategic province of the Philippines without firing a shot — the horrible effects of the nuclear detonation notwithstanding — was the decades-long goal of the People’s Republic of China. It was even better if the Chinese were
And Admiral Yin Po L’un would be a hero.
But it was crazy. Absolutely crazy. This popinjay who called himself a general had to be insane — wasn’t the entire country filled with so-called revolutionaries, peasants who would carry the revolution’s flag long enough to get a betterlooking woman or a few extra dollars before heading off into the jungle? It would be an insult to throw in with this character.
“Tell him I wish to have my officers taken to the
Tran nodded and began to speak with di Silva, slowly at first, but soon he was rambling on and on, his speech becoming less formal and more flowery — he really seemed to be laying it on thicker and thicker, and di Silva was eating it up. A few moments later, with di Silva wearing a firm but rather dejected expression, the two men were bowing deeply and smiling to each other.
“General di Silva says he admires your sense of duty,” Tran reported with a sense of relief. “He has agreed to help us back to the ship and organize the surviving officers.”
Yin put on his best smile and extended a hand, and di Silva accepted as if Yin had just offered him the Crown Jewels. “Tell him he should be held up as a shining example of the great leaders of Communism — and any other drivel you think he will be impressed by,” Yin said impatiently. “Then ask him to bring the senior officers in here immediately so that I can organize—”
There was a sudden flurry of voices coming from the hallway, and a wave of people pushed their way into Yin’s room. Several of them had small automatic weapons and wore earpieces — Secret Service agents, most likely, or Presidential Guards, Yin thought. Well, the Chinese Admiral thought, he was right all along; his room was bugged, and as soon as the Philippine intelligence agents realized that he was not going to cooperate and try to enlist the aid of the Philippine General in trying to escape or overthrow the country, he was going to be captured like any other enemy of the state and hauled away to prison…
The wall of onlookers and guards parted suddenly, revealing a tall, young, handsome man with fair features, a thin dark mustache, and carefully coiffured dark hair. Doctors and nurses were staring at him as if they were looking at a god from Heaven, while the security guards were now gently pushing them away. General di Silva spoke at length to the man, who seemed to be very good friends with him.
The man then stepped up to Yin’s bed, his hands crossed before him, smiled pleasantly at Commander Tran, then said in rather good Chinese, “Welcome, Admiral.”
Yin was clearly impressed. “Thank you, sir. Whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?”
“I am First Vice President of the Republic of the Philippines, Daniel Francisco Teguina. Admiral Yin Po L’un, I welcome you to Palawan.”
The First Vice President! Yin exclaimed to himself. Well, things were getting very interesting — if he was who he claimed. “So. Am I to be your prisoner, Comrade Vice President?”
