Chapter 1210 - The Mission for Distraction
"The last train has left—service is over," Weiss interjected, shamelessly letting his gaze wander over the waist and ample bosom beneath her dress.
Jiang Shan coughed, warning him to mind his manners.
"Take my official carriage home." Jiang Shan stepped out first—he didn't want this woman lingering, and he had no desire to delay important business. A Red Flag carriage waited outside the auditorium. Jiang Shan gave the driver some instructions, then opened the door with impeccable gentlemanly flair. Liu Shuixin lifted her skirt hem and stepped onto the footboard, revealing stockinged thighs, and flashed a charming smile at the two men beside the carriage. Weiss Lando let out an unabashed wolf whistle.
"Where are you staying this time? The Government Office Second Guesthouse again?" Jiang Shan watched the Red Flag carriage turn and disappear beyond Fangcaodi's gate before speaking.
"Yes—staying there is better than the church." Lando said. "Pretending to be a devout believer is exhausting."
"Shall we walk?"
"It's five kilometers, Director."
"Are you in a hurry?"
"Me? No—it's not like there's any transport anyway."
They passed through the gate, where students on duty saluted them. Beyond the gate stretched extensive orchards—what had originally been just a small stand of trees had grown to cover the entire hilltop where the campus sat, planted with fruit trees by the students. All was quiet; gravel crunched softly underfoot as they descended the hill and curved onto a road near the sea.
The night's tranquility was shattered by the distant Bopu Shipyard. Its buildings blazed with light, swallowing the stars near the horizon. Smokestacks intermittently spewed showers of sparks like fireworks. Boilers hissed with hoarse steam; gantry cranes howled on their rails; overhead cranes clattered; winch brakes squealed like piglets; steam engines thumped monotonously, joining the clang of hammered iron and the screech of sawing machines. The entire factory crouched on the beach like some enormous beast hidden by the night's veil, breathing with iron lungs.
"Beautiful!" Jiang Shan said.
Lando couldn't understand what was beautiful about it, but he knew these Chinese people's aesthetic tastes: multi-riveted, steam-powered, steel-strong, big and black and crude. "A new warship about to launch? Good heavens, let me think—whose turn is it to get thrashed?"
"Have you ever been to Manila?"
"Three hundred and seventy years from now, I have." Weiss tried to joke, but Jiang Shan didn't respond, so he continued: "Operation Hunger was pretty exciting, though the Spanish ships were absolutely filthy—shit and rats everywhere. Are you planning to sack Manila now? Fine—I can disguise myself as a Spanish official. Let's call me... Francisco Franco! No warships needed. I just bring ten canisters of poison gas, crack them open at night, and you lot can put on your gas masks and empty Manila's treasury." He suddenly remembered something and stopped: "Damn—the Jesuits will recognize me, and then I'm headed for the stake!"
"There aren't many Jesuits in Manila," Jiang Shan smiled. "The orders in Manila are mainly Franciscans and Dominicans. Even if there are Jesuits, they probably haven't been to Macau—the Portuguese may share a king with the Spanish, but they're not exactly friendly."
"One is enough."
"Mr. Lando, have you heard a saying from an ancient Chinese strategist? Control others rather than be controlled by them."
"No, but someone in Africa told me a Chinese phrase: Strike first for the upper hand."
"In your recent report, you mentioned that Li Siya has been in frequent contact with the Spanish lately. We sent someone to Macau specifically to investigate—one of the Spaniards visiting Li Siya was a special envoy from the Governor of Manila."
"Manila wants to get the intelligence we sold to Batavia? Did they succeed?"
"Perhaps. Li Siya is loyal to no one. It wouldn't be surprising if she resold the intelligence to the Spanish. But except for one brief moment, she's never really posed a threat to us." Jiang Shan didn't want to discuss this further—some things weren't for everyone to know.
Lando understood this was "Director Jiang" hinting that Li Siya was no longer a subject requiring his attention.
Jiang Shan pulled out a fine linen handkerchief and wiped his sweaty forehead. He began speaking of certain strange patterns among the Spanish: through agents in Macau, they were purchasing large quantities of Guangdong pig iron, saltpeter, mercury, and zinc—so-called "white lead." Ship after ship of these goods was sailing from Anping to Manila. Previously the Spanish had rarely bought these commodities directly from China. Now they were even attempting to recruit coppersmiths and blacksmiths from Guangdong to work in Manila—before they had only recruited sailors.
"So the Spanish want us to pay a price for our piracy?"
"No—it's barely been two weeks since we intercepted the Manila Galleon. The Spanish activity has been going on since the start of this year, so I believe their actions are aimed at the Dutch."
Governor de Tavora of Manila had long worried about the Dutch threat, repeatedly petitioning the King for more money and soldiers to strengthen Manila's defenses. The Philippine Spanish were in a difficult position—the Dutch constantly harassed them throughout East Asian waters and had repeatedly attacked Spanish colonies, causing the Governor no end of trouble.
The senior officials of the Philippine colony seemed to live in constant fear of Dutch attack.
"The Spanish situation is dire," Jiang Shan said. "We have a series of reports from the Governor to the Privy Council. The Spanish are underfunded—without the Manila Galleon's resupply, the administration can barely maintain current operations. They're short of manpower too—Dutch harassment at sea, native uprisings on land. Their trade is faltering, so they've been attracting Chinese settlers to cultivate the land, yet they remain deeply suspicious of the Chinese."
"If their situation is so bad, why suddenly increase spending—these expanded imports all appear to be for military purposes—rather than profitable investments?"
"Exactly. Especially their sudden increase in mercury imports—far too much. Do you know what the amalgamation process is?"
"No idea. I'm just a soldier."
"Amalgamation is a process for refining precious metals like gold and silver. It requires large quantities of mercury." Jiang Shan paused. "We know the Philippines has gold and silver deposits. But the Spanish of this era don't know that..."
Lando's eyes gleamed: "I understand what you mean."
"We need a man in Manila." The road curved, and the lights of Bairren City were now visible. "Even if we can easily defeat any enemy armed only with seventeenth-century weapons, intelligence remains essential. I need to know exactly what the Spanish are capable of and what they're planning."
Sending a Chinese wouldn't work—Jiang Shan had already considered this. The Spanish were deeply suspicious of the Chinese. Chinese residential areas were restricted, and Chinese activity was largely confined to Manila's lower and middle social strata. The upper echelons were controlled by Spaniards. A Chinese person—no matter how wealthy—would have tremendous difficulty accessing Manila's elite.
"Sounds good." Weiss Lando cleared his throat. After walking so far, he desperately wanted another kvass. "But if things go wrong, it might be my last time serving you."
"Is that what you think?"
"No offense, Director. When predicting outcomes, I usually consider the worst-case scenario first."
"If that happens, we'll engrave your name on the Intelligence Bureau's wall—and if you wish, you may designate a naturalized child as your heir."
Neither spoke for the final stretch. "Intelligence Bureau meeting tomorrow morning at nine o'clock," Jiang Shan said, gesturing to the naturalized receptionist standing outside the guesthouse to open the door for Weiss. "I'll send a car for you. Good night, Mr. James Bond."
"Good night, M."
Jiang Shan returned to his office. A thick stack of reports on the interrogation of Manila Galleon prisoners had been delivered to his desk.
The reports were quite detailed—even the lowliest sailors and slaves had comprehensive statistics and as much personal information as could be gathered.
Of the 289 prisoners, there were Spaniards, Portuguese, Italians, Germans, and blacks, plus Malays and Chinese—the latter two mainly serving as sailors. And various mixed-race individuals. A typical crew composition for an Age of Exploration sailing vessel.
Utilization and disposition of prisoners was the Planning Commission's concern, but the Intelligence Bureau and Political Security Bureau were expected to provide input. Which ones could be utilized, which ransomed and released, which should "work until death"—all these recommendations came from them.
He browsed through the materials. The report Mendoza had written on Doña Marina de Arellano caught his interest. He read it carefully, then reviewed the interrogation reports on the maids, the dueña, and the captain, and cross-referenced the prize inventory lists. Everything confirmed Marina's story—she was indeed a bride-to-be, sent to Manila to marry her fiancé.
A nobleman's illegitimate daughter traveling to Manila for marriage—though no one could say exactly whom she was marrying. Jiang Shan didn't particularly care—probably some Spanish official or such.
If that was all there was to it, she would be of no use to them. They couldn't recruit an eighteen-year-old Spanish girl who had spent ten years in a convent as a spy—quite apart from the racial issue, they had just stolen her dowry. If she stayed in Lingao as a prize to be distributed among transmigrators, merely deciding how to allocate her and dealing with the subsequent disputes would trigger another round of fierce debate and argument.
Simply extorting a ransom seemed the most profitable and safest approach.
(End of Chapter)