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follow the trail of Chao Lin. He will almost certainly attempt to cross the border somewhere here.” The massive bulk heaved itself from the chair and crossed the room to where a large map hung on the wall. Lung Chan prodded it with a stubby finger. “The order is that he must be allowed to enter China. He must not be killed until he is on Chinese territory. I want that perfectly understood by every department. The time—and the method—will be chosen by a higher authority.”
    A faint, half-heard sigh eddied through the room. For a moment, the eyes of the men seated around the table brightened perceptibly.
    Lung Chan paused, turned from his deliberation of the map. “This mission has the approval of our beloved Mao Tse Tung himself. From this, you will all realise that failure cannot be contemplated, nor tolerated. The world has thought little of our Intelligence services. They consider that we are a backward race when it comes to international espionage. Very soon, they will see how wrong they have been. We have all been waiting for this moment. Our scientists have given us some of the most powerful weapons of destruction ever dreamed up by mankind. Once they have been perfected, we can begin the revolution which will eventually end in world conquest for Chinese communism.”
    *
    Carradine stirred, groaned, then forced himself up from the depths of sleep. Painfully, he eased his long body more comfortably in the bed, the feel of the cool sheets soft on his bruised limbs. It would have been so easy to simply lie there for another hour or more, drift back into the deep sleep in which there was no nagging pain, no rush of thoughts through his mind. But there was work to be done and the thin cries of the street vendors outside his window and the dull roar of traffic told him that Hong Kong was wide-awake even at this early hour of the morning. Lazily, he lifted his hand, peered closely at the watch on his wrist. It was still only six-thirty.
    Padding across the floor, he pulled on his clothes, flinching a little as the rough cloth touched his lacerated flesh. Going over to the window, he looked out. The broad sweep of the bay was a deep blue in the early morning light, crowded with junks and sampans, with larger vessels tied up at the quay. One of the largest and most important harbours in this part of Asia, it had first come to significance during the Opium Wars more than a century before; had been chosen as a base for British warships by a young naval officer who had been dismissed for having dared to suggest such a place. Looking at it now, it was difficult to believe that only a little time before Hong Kong had been only a small settlement. Now they were building on a tremendous scale, great concrete blocks rising to the heavens. Almost all of the capital had been built up by the Chinese here. They were perhaps the best businessmen in the world, knocking down five-storey buildings before they had even been completed, because a ten-storey block of offices would bring in far more profit, then perhaps going on to add a further ten storeys before the building was finally completed. For fifteen minutes, he stood taking in all of the scene which lay stretched out below him, looking out over the barrier of blue water which lay between Hong Kong and the vast mainland of Communist China.
    He washed and shaved methodically, then made his way downstairs. Kellaway put in an appearance a few minutes later, still unshaven. “I’ll arrange for breakfast as soon as the servant gets here.
    “How long have you had the servant?”
    “Who? Amra Min? About a year. Why?”
    “Just naturally suspicious, I guess.” Carradine moved to the window, glanced out into the street. The whole city seemed to have come alive in spite of the early hour.
    “You think she may have been the one to give away information?” asked the other unemotionally.
    “It’s possible. Unless there was anyone close to Chao Lin who knew of his movements. Somehow,