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PROLOGUE Jun Wu, a petite woman in her thirties, had just stepped from her post-breakfast shower and wrapped a towel about herself when the phone rang. She left wet footprints on the tan bedroom carpet and picked up the receiver. When it turned out to be her boss, Jun tried to sound dignified. She rubbed the towel end over her short black hair and listened as Peter Valois explained the unusual call at such an early hour. After a moment, Jun said, “I’m fine, Peter.” She paced around her queen-sized bed and listened to more explanation from the phone. “A premonition? About what?” She glanced at the clock and pulled the red bedspread straight. “Danger? Well, I’m not in any danger as far as I can tell,” Jun said in a calm voice. Except for catching pneumonia, she thought. “Everything is normal, it’s a beautiful April day up here, and I’m getting ready to leave.” Jun lodged the phone between her shoulder and ear, dropped the towel, and went to the dresser. “Your premonition makes no sense. You don’t know what the danger is or where it lies. Maybe it’s something in the lab.” From the closet she grabbed the day’s outfit and threw it onto the bed and then shifted the phone to her other ear. “I’ll be extra careful, but I’ll be an hour or so late. I have to see an insurance agent.” She hung up, wondering what that was all about. The boss had called her at home before, but never at this early hour. Strange. A thought crossed her mind. Was there a connection between Dr. Valois’s intuition and her not-so-pleasant conversation with the insistent guy from the Chinese Scholars Association? She, like any other educated person of Chinese descent, knew the Association was one of many dedicated to transferring technology to the motherland. Jun didn’t feel her position in a company doing classified work for the U.S. government allowed her to consort with agents of the People’s Republic of China, and she said so. Insistent guy had asked her to collect technology and wasn’t happy with her answer. Two men sat in a black Suburban parked in front of the vacant lot near Jun’s house in the San Diego hills. Most of the lots in the new development had FOR SALE signs, so it was possible the occupants were considering a purchase. In fact, Yingyi, a wiry Asian with a cheek scar, and Morgan, a big-fisted, muscle-bound Caucasian, watched Jun’s small bathroom window and the front door. Both men were employees of Xianxingzhe Group of Beijing, a leading R&D outfit in China. The conglomerate competed with Jun Wu’s employer in robotics and needed something from Jun’s boss. “The bathroom light just went out. Ms. Wu, she of the small but shapely ass, will soon emerge on schedule as usual,” Yingyi said as he lowered the field glasses. “Seems a shame to waste such fine assets without putting them to some use.” “Shut up,” Morgan said. “I don’t think you could f**k the broad and still make this look like an accident. She just passed the front window. Mighta noticed us.” “So what. We’re prospective buyers looking at real estate. We’re just part of the normal scenery, and if Ms. Wu is alarmed, that’s a real shame. A frightened rabbit is more fun for the hunter.” Yingyi donned reflective sunglasses and smiled. This operation, part of a larger plan, was his boss’s idea, and he was glad at last to be doing instead of planning. There’d been months of that. He finally felt alive. He interlaced his fingers and stretched his arms. “Too bad it’s bright and sunny,” Yingyi said. “Rain and wet pavement would make an accident more believable.” Minutes ticked by as the two men drank the remains of their lukewarm coffee. They dropped the cups into a plastic bag when Jun emerged from the house and approached her compact, beat-up Toyota. Jun smoothed her tan skirt and adjusted her sunglasses, smiled in the direction of the Suburban, and got into her car. She started the motor and lowered the windows, took time to maneuver the rearview mirror, studied the men in the black vehicle, and then backed from her driveway. “Punctual as usual,” Yingyi said. “And neatly dressed.” Morgan let Jun get half a block away before he started the Suburban and followed. He stayed back at a non-threatening distance until they reached the steep, twisting road that led to the main highway. When the switchbacks began, Morgan drew close. Jun glanced in her mirror and swerved off the pavement. “That’s just normal driving for her,” Yingyi said. “Let her be nervous.” Morgan got near the Toyota, as if he wanted to pass. Up ahead was a stretch that had no shoulder. “We’re coming to the place,” Yingyi said.” Jun accelerated, but Morgan kept pace, and then retreated. Yingyi saw the woman reach over to something on the dash. Distractions cause accidents, he thought. The next section curved around a steep hill. A cable strung between metal posts separated the narrow shoulder from a rock-strewn ravine. Morgan had made sure the cable was slack and low, too low to prevent a car from flying over the edge. And Jun was on the downhill side. The Toyota’s tires squealed in a hard turn. A yellow sign indicated an S-shaped curve and recommended twenty miles per hour. Jun slowed some, and Yingyi waved Morgan forward. Now the woman might suspect that her pursuer was not just a bad driver. The little Toyota kicked gravel as it strayed off the pavement. The Suburban kissed the Toyota’s bumper. Jun left the road again with another blast of tire on rocky dirt. This time she yanked the wheel to the left and took her foot off the accelerator. Morgan nudged the smaller car with the brush bar on the front of the Suburban. Jun went off the road but somehow managed to maintain control. The SUV backed off and sped forward again. This time it did not contact the rear bumper. It swung into the opposite lane, came alongside, and pushed Jun to the right. The much heavier vehicle shoved the Toyota off the blacktop, and as the road curved, the smaller car faced open air. Jun screamed as her sedan flew past the cable barrier. The undercarriage caught the wire, and the Toyota held for a moment. With a screech, the vehicle broke free, and the rear tires rolled over the cable. The front end bounced once on the slope before the drop-off, and then the car somersaulted into the abyss. Wheels spinning, the Toyota landed roof-down with a crunch of metal, its feeble horn wailing. A few rocks bounced off the undercarriage, and then there was silence. The Suburban pulled to the side, and the men strode back to the now flattened guard rail. Morgan took off his dark glasses and gazed at the belly of the Toyota far below. “What do you think?” he asked. “Either dead or badly injured,” Yingyi said. “Must have dozed and lost control on an unfortunate section of the road. Fiddling with the radio probably distracted her.” “Miss Wu won’t report for work anytime soon. Someone will have to take her place.” Morgan walked back to the SUV. “Let’s get the car taken care of and tell the boss how the accident went.” The men returned to the Suburban and drove off as a single, pumpkin-sized rock loosened by the crash finally let go of its perch, rumbled down the slope to the edge, and rolled off. The smell of gasoline tainted the air. Crows, silenced by the screech of metal, resumed their bickering. The sound of a small engine interrupted their caws. A moment after the SUV departed, a Honda cycle bounced from a narrow path on the uphill side of the accident site and stopped near the guard cable. A leather-clad, helmeted rider dismounted from the motorcycle and gazed into the ravine. Seeing no movement and hearing no sound near the overturned car, the figure cursed and pulled out a cell phone. There was no signal. The rider remounted the bike and, after another glance into the ravine, rode off. PART 1 OPPORTUNITY In revenge and in love, woman is more barbarous than man. FRIEDRICH NIETZSCHE