Kompromat Page 7

  There was a sharp intake of breath around the table. ‘Turning a major asset’, in other words, picking up the enemy’s agent and making him or her serve your purposes rather than those of the other side, had always been one of the big challenges in the field of espionage and counter-espionage. Thrillers had been written on the topic by men like John Le Carré, Frederick Forsyth and Robert Harris, and these were authors who knew their onions.

  ‘And how are you going to “turn” Mr Edward Barnard?’ Zhang intervened. ‘As I understand it, the gentleman’s not for turning. He’s a family man. Loves horses and dogs. Went to a good school. On to Oxford. That kind of thing.’

  ‘Don’t worry, comrade. We’ll find a way. You just have to pick the right spot to pierce the armour. Even your classic English gentleman has his weak spot if you know where to look.’

  Li Xiao-Tong looked around the room. Colleagues from all twelve bureaux of the MSS were present that day. He had known many of them during that first period of training, at the agency’s own university: The Institute of International Relations, in Beijing. And then they had met up again learning ‘tradecraft’ at the Institute of Cadre Management in Suzhou, not far from Shanghai.

  ‘As a matter of fact, comrades,’ Li’s smile turned into a leer. ‘We think we’ve already found a way.’

  CHAPTER TEN

  After Edward Barnard resigned from his position as Secretary of State for the Environment in order to devote his energies to the Referendum campaign, Joyce Griffiths, his private secretary, went through the diary.

  ‘What are we going to do about your talk in Xian, China, on May 7th?’ she asked. ‘The Chinese Embassy has already been on to us. They’re going to be very upset if you don’t go. Can’t Hilary do it?’

  Hilary Douglas, MP for Taunton and a rising star in the Conservative Party, had already been nominated as his successor as Secretary of State and was expected to take up her post in the Department of the Environment later that day.

  ‘No, Miss Douglas’s people have already said that she couldn’t do it. She’ll barely have had time to put her feet under the desk. Besides, you’re in the programme, and down to speak on the first day. Look!’

  Joyce quickly searched for the link. Together they looked at the screen. The headline, as posted by the Chinese Ministry of Foreign Affairs, read:

  WORLD ECO FORUM TO MEET IN XIAN.

  ZHANG FU-SHENG TO ATTEND

  ‘China’s top politician Zhang Fu-Sheng will meet next week with foreign leaders at the Eco Forum Global Annual Conference 2016 in Xian, capital of Shaanxi Province in Central Asia. The leaders include Papua New Guinea’s (PNG) Prime Minister Roger Wolf, Lucas Behrman, President of the National Council of Switzerland; Deputy President of Kenya, Madison Mboyo; and former UK Secretary of State for Environment, Edward Barnard. Zhang Fu-Sheng will formally open the World Eco Forum.’

  Joyce Griffiths hadn’t finished. ‘The Embassy is also trying to set up a private meeting between you and Mr Zhang Fu-Sheng. They said Zhang is a member of the Standing Committee of the Politburo. They hinted that Zhang was a big cheese. I’m not an expert but I can tell you that in China a member of the Politburo Standing Committee is a very big cheese indeed.’

  Three days later, Barnard took his seat in the huge Xian International Congress Centre with ten minutes to spare. He had been escorted through the VIP entrance and then ‘fast-tracked’ through security, but even so the formalities took time. With Zhang Fu-Sheng scheduled to do the honours, no one was taking any chances.

  There were giant screens behind the podium. In that vast cavernous hall, one man standing before a lectern could seem small and insignificant. Most people, the evidence indicated, like watching the giant screen rather than the tiny man.

  Right up front in the VIP row, Barnard watched and listened to Zhang’s opening address.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ Zhang began. ‘Honoured delegates, honoured guests from overseas, it gives me great pleasure to declare this important congress open.’

  As Zhang spoke, the giant image on the screen behind him changed and was replaced by a shot of the audience. To his surprise, Barnard suddenly saw himself in close-up, staring at the stage. Where the hell was that camera, he wondered?

  And then he spotted it, mounted on a wire above the stage, able to traverse the whole stage from left to right and back again.

  When, for a second time, he saw himself in close-up, he waved discretely. I could be at a football match, in one of those crowd shots, when people in funny hats or paint on their faces suddenly realize they are being filmed. He had an almost overwhelming temptation to stick out his tongue and waggle his hands behind his head, but he thought better of it. He might not be a minister of the Crown any longer, but he still had to behave.

  Listening to Zhang through his headphones, Barnard was impressed by the clarity and conviction with which the man spoke. A year earlier, China had stuck its neck out. It had bonded together with the United States to force through the international agreement on climate change in Paris at the end of 2015. Now that agreement was at serious risk of collapsing even before it had entered into force. Ron Craig, the most likely Republican candidate, had made it clear that he believed global warming to be a ‘giant hoax and an attack on American jobs’. Craig had threatened that if he ever became president he would pull the US out of the Paris Agreement and even out of the parent Climate Change Convention, which had been adopted way back in 1992 at the United Nations first Earth Summit in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.

  Barnard was expecting to hear some tough retaliatory language from Zhang, but whatever the Chinese minister might have thought privately, he went out of his way to respect the conventions of diplomacy. Opening speeches are meant to be uplifting, not full of venom.

  ‘China,’ he said, ‘will always put ecological environmental protection as an important area of opening up to the outside world, and will fulfil international environmental conventions, as well as taking on international obligations. It will continue to participate in global cooperation to combat climate change, and make important contributions to global ecological security.’

  When he had finished his speech, Zhang bowed three times to acknowledge the applause, and then followed one of the conference ushers to the seat reserved for him in the VIP row. Martial music echoed from the loudspeakers.

  As Zhang walked along the front row, Barnard stood up to greet him as he passed. ‘Great speech. Fantastic,’ he said.

  Zhang bowed and walked on. But at the dinner, later that evening, he sought Barnard out and found time for a private word.

  ‘Ah, Mr Barnard, how good of you to come. We are so pleased to have been able to cooperate with the United Kingdom on these environmental issues. We hope that cooperation may continue even in changed circumstances. But of course China will never intervene in the electoral process of another country.’

  For a moment Barnard wondered whether Zhang was making a joke at Russia’s expense, since Russia’s habit of intervening in other countries’ elections was fairly well documented. That very day, he had seen a report on CNN about thousands of ‘leaked emails’, most of them featuring Caroline Mann, the most likely Democratic candidate in the upcoming US election. The consensus was that the leak was most likely to have originated from Russia and that it could severely damage Mann’s chancing of winning the election.

  Zhang lingered for a moment. ‘We hope the Annual Xian Environmental Forum will in time come to be seen as an alternative to the World Economic Forum at Davos in Switzerland. That is why it is so important to us that foreign guests such as you attend this event. We want it to be the “go-to” event of the environmental year.’

  It was after 11:00p.m. when Barnard finally returned to his hotel room. Within seconds the telephone rang.

  ‘Please forgive me for phoning you so late. My name is Li Xiao-Tong. I am calling you on behalf of senior minister Zhang Fu-Sheng. Minister Zhang would like to invite you to accompany him early tomorrow morning
on a special visit to the famous Terracotta army.’

  ‘That’s wonderful. I’m down to give my speech at twelve noon. Would we be back in time for that?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ the voice at the other end of the line assured him. ‘Great honour to accompany such senior minister. Meet in lobby 6:00a.m.?’

  As he put the phone down, Barnard felt doubly elated. First, it was obvious that Zhang had a message to convey, though what that message was remained a mystery. Second, he was going to have a personal out-of-hours viewing of the Terracotta Army, far from the crowds of tourists who would invade the site as soon as the gates were officially opened.

  His wife, Melissa, had been extremely envious when she heard he was going to Xian.

  ‘I long to see the Terracotta Army,’ she had said. ‘Lucky old you. Do please take some photos.’

  Li Xiao-Tong was already waiting for him when, on the dot of six the next morning, Barnard merged from the lift into the glittering lobby of the Xian Hilton.

  ‘Minister Zhang is already in the car.’ Li ushered him to the door.

  The city was stirring as they drove east. Street vendors had already taken up their positions. The tea-houses were opening. Barnard caught a glimpse of the great Buddhist pagoda, towering over the city’s ancient walls.

  ‘That’s the Great Wild Goose Pagoda,’ Zhang told him. ‘Built in the seventh century. If you have time, you can climb up to the top. Wonderful view.’

  Even at that time of the morning, the road was beginning to fill up. The driver wove his way skilfully around the handcarts and bicycles, overtaking slower vehicles with a blast of the horn and a firm kick at the accelerator. Occasionally, he would swing out into the centre of the road to be confronted by an oncoming bus or truck.

  An hour later, they stood together on the huge mound of earth which covered the tomb of China’s first emperor. It was like being on top of the Great Pyramid of Cheops, Barnard thought. The Qin emperor had been far more powerful than the Pharaohs of Egypt. Ramses and Akhenaton had ruled a country, but Qin Shi Huang had ruled a continent.

  ‘Has the tomb ever been excavated?’ Barnard asked.

  ‘No. And the Chinese government has no plans to do so at the present time. Qin Shi Huang’s grave has been undisturbed for over 2,000 years; it can wait a bit longer. Besides,’ Zhang added, smiling, ‘the place is meant to be booby-trapped with an elaborate system of crossbows lined up to fire automatically at any intruders! And don’t forget,’ he pointed to the east, ‘down there, a mile and a half away, a whole army stood guard.’

  ‘The Terracotta Army?’

  ‘Exactly. Come on, let’s walk there. We can pick up the car later.’

  Zhang set off at a brisk pace down the steep slope of the pyramid, still talking as he leapt agilely from step to step.

  There had obviously been advance warning of Zhang’s visit. A small welcoming party was waiting for them.

  An elderly man came forward to shake Zhang warmly by the hand. ‘This is Professor Wong,’ Zhang explained to Barnard. ‘He has offered to show us round. I know this place well, I grew up in Xian. I went to university here before going into politics. I have followed the excavations over the years, but still it’s good to have an expert.’

  For the next hour the professor gave them an expert guided tour.

  ‘Normally,’ he explained, ‘visitors don’t go down into the pits. They have to stay on the viewing platforms. But when we have a high-level honoured guest, we are allowed to make an exception.’

  The professor pulled a card from his wallet and showed it to the guard at the entrance. The man nodded and unhooked the rope to let them pass.

  ‘The first pit was discovered in 1974,’ the professor explained, ‘by some farmers digging in the fields nearby. The second and third pits were discovered in the summer of 1976, about twenty-five metres to the north of the first pit. We believe there may be more pits to excavate, but we are taking our time. So far they have uncovered more than 1,000 life-sized warriors and horses, twenty wooden, war chariots and 10,000 bronze weapons. They estimate that when the excavation has finished there will be over 7,000 warriors, as well as some 600 clay horses and a massive quantity of real weaponry.

  ‘Look at the extraordinary detail of these figures,’ he continued. ‘The man in front, wearing the long robe, is an officer. See how the tips of his shoes turn up, his long cap, the fine and delicate features. What you are looking at is not a stylized representation but the real thing. Look at the general standing just behind him. Of course there are some standard features, the cap adorned with pheasant’s feathers, the long coat with its plate of armour, the hand on the sword. But each terracotta figure represents an actual soldier in Emperor Qin’s army. Each and every one of them is different. It’s almost as though these were real individuals. They were moulded in yellow clay and baked in a kiln over 2,000 years ago, but even now the realism, the subtlety of the carving is frightening. You look at these statues and you think they could almost march away.’

  At the end of their tour, the professor led them into the VIP room where a table had been laid for breakfast.

  The professor slipped away to take tea in a side-room with Li Xiao-Tong.

  Barnard admired the choreography of the whole affair. This is where we get down to business, he thought, now that the softening-up process is over.

  Zhang didn’t waste words. ‘Emperor Quin Shi Huang united China. The Qin Empire ruled for hundreds of years. The warring states came together. China became the greatest country on earth. In Europe you have had a great experiment. After two world wars which began there, the nations have come together in peace. But now you want to throw it away. I have read your speeches, Mr Barnard, I have watched you on television. But please tell me why? Why are you doing this?’

  ‘We’re not trying to destroy Europe,’ Barnard protested. ‘We’re just trying to take back control of our own destiny. For example, I consider myself to be an environmentalist. I care about nature and wildlife. I am as concerned about global warming as China is, and I congratulate you on the efforts you have made. But I think we can make our own laws, in this area as in others.’

  When Barnard continued in that vein for several minutes more, Zhang looked increasingly disappointed.

  ‘I am sorry I have not been able to persuade you, Mr Barnard.’

  ‘Well, I’m sorry you felt you had to try.’

  Zhang shook his head. ‘China wants to work with a United Europe, not twenty-eight different nations which is what we will have if Europe falls apart. Britain may be the first domino to fall, but it will not be the last. Do you know what we say in China in situations like these? “Be careful what you wish for”. That’s what we say.’

  Zhang stood up. The meeting was clearly over. ‘Li Xiao-Tong will accompany you back to your hotel, Mr Barnard. My driver is taking me straight to the airport.’

  ‘I’ll be heading there myself later today, after I’ve made my speech.’

  ‘Good luck with that! Thank you for coming.’ Zhang was suddenly affable.

  Driving back to Xian, Barnard wondered what China’s next step would be. The passion with which Zhang had spoken about a United Europe had taken him by surprise. He sounded a bit like Ted Heath, he thought. Poor old Ted. He had a vision but he could never persuade his party to follow him. Not for the long haul, anyway.

  As they got out of the car, Li Xiao-Tong came round to hold the door.

  ‘Minister Zhang has asked me to give you this memento to take back to Britain. Please play it on your video recorder when you get home as a souvenir of your visit to Emperor Qin’s Tomb and the Terracotta Army. It tells the story from the first excavations to the present day. I am sure your wife will like it too.’

  Barnard was genuinely touched. He had given his hosts a hard time. It was clear to him now that they had planned the one-on-one encounter with Minister Zhang down to the last detail. What on earth did they think? That he could change his mind at the drop of a hat?<
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  Still, it was nice of them to give him a video of the Terracotta army. Melissa would be pleased. He’d taken some photos that morning but it would be good to have a proper video.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The plane from Xian landed as dawn was breaking. As a last gesture of goodwill to a departing minister, the government had laid on a car. Barnard scanned the papers as they sped west along the M4. He frowned. The Observer’s ‘Poll of Polls’ had Leave at ten points behind.

  Harriet Marshall, director of the Leave campaign, was already waiting when Barnard’s car rolled into the drive of Coleman Court: the splendid Georgian house which Barnard had bought on first being elected for the South Wiltshire constituency.

  ‘Ni hao!’ Harriet said. ‘The wanderer returns!’

  ‘Hello to you, too!’ Barnard smiled at the young woman who held the door open for him and then helped him with his bag. He congratulated himself, not for the first time, on the fact that the Leave campaign had managed to tempt Harriet to join them. The financial inducement had not been impressive – Harriet Marshall could have earned a much higher salary in the City.

  Harriet was a profound thinker, a high-level chess player, and indeed, by general repute, probably the cleverest woman in years to have made her name in politics. Not as an MP, but as a Special Political Adviser or SPAD.

  She was also a superb strategist, with an ability to create – and then capitalize on – opportunities long before most people even realized they existed.

  But she was far from easy to work with. In fact, she was notoriously difficult. Harriet made it abundantly clear that she thought most MPs were time-servers, jobsworths, interested in their own career and not much else. Even ministers, from time to time, felt the lash of her tongue. From her point of view, the people who were the ‘extremists’ were the people who lived in the Westminster ‘bubble’, who believed – for example – in an immigration policy that guaranteed free movement rights, even for murderers.