CHAPTER ONE
"Thank you for coming on short notice, Garrett," said Sir Alan Hawkwood, coming out from behind his desk and shaking his visitor's hand.
In these troubling times Garrett Winthrop, managing director of Barclay Bank's Far East operations in Hong Kong, was not about to postpone responding to an emergency call from the governor of the British Crown Colony. A portly man with a florid complexion, the banker had a worried look in his pale blue eyes.
"I take it you have a matter you didn't wish to discuss over the telephone," he responded, his eyes straying curiously to the officer seating to the left of the governor's desk.
"This is Major-General Hillman," Sir Alan continued. "He arrived yesterday with a team of intelligence experts to assess the near-term consequences of a possible Japanese take-over of Hong Kong. They're already in control of Canton, one hundred miles to the north. So it's just a matter of time before they move down the Pearl River and overrun our precarious position."
The General said, "The Japanese don't have the manpower and equipment in place at this time to launch an invasion, but they need Hong Kong--it's their gateway to controlling Indo-China. They can't do it alone from the sea because we have a decent naval presence in and around the harbor, and in the South China Sea. They'll come at us when they've built up their land forces and catch us in a vice. We don't have the ground forces to protect Hong Kong. Nor can we bring them here in sufficient numbers now that the Germans are rampaging all over Europe. All we can do is stall for time."
The banker fidgeted in his chair. "How can I help in this matter?" he asked.
"We're hoping to pick your brain, Mr. Winthrop," the General went on. "As a banker you come into contact with persons from many walks of life. Perhaps among those you're acquainted with there are a few that speak the Chinese dialects, and know the interior well enough to lead a reconnaissance mission to help us map Japanese troop positions in the southern regions of Canton province."
The General paused a moment.
Sir Alan said, "It would have to be someone with experience, cunning. Please think about that requirement and see who you can come up with a name."
"Well, I do know one chap who might fit your requirements. A fellow named Hanecy."
"Tell us about him," the General prompted.
"His full name is James Hanecy. He's a dealer in gemstones, but you wouldn't know it from his appearance. A friendly enough person, but I wouldn't want to get in his way, if you know what I mean. There are stories about him. I can't vouch for them, you understand, but they come from others whom I know to be reliable sources."
"What do you know about his background?" the governor asked.
"He's maintained sizable accounts at our bank for nearly ten years. Up until about two years ago, he'd show up every few months to conduct financial transactions on behalf of himself and an old-time Shanghai gemstone merchant named Ho Sung, who'd been banking with us even longer, even though I've never met him. Hanecy came into my office in May of 1937, I think. He introduced me to his wife, and converted his accounts into joint ones. He also brought along legal documents from a Chinese attorney we've dealt with on a few occasions--his firm has an office in Hong Kong. The documents informed us that this Ho Sung had died and that we were to transfer his assets to the firm's local office for disposition. The documents had the proper court seals, but we telegraphed Shanghai for confirmation. That was two months before the Japanese invasion."
"About this Hanecy?" the General said.
"Rumors are that he's a freelancer, and from the looks of him, that could be true. One story I heard was that he escorted an American girl from Shanghai to Peking, who was bringing a shipment of medicines to her father's hospital. Seems everyone wanted the shipment--especially agents and a Chinese war lord in the employ of the Japanese. There were a number of incidents aboard the train and after they arrived in Peking, Hanecy recruited mercenaries to help him fight a major battle with a contingent of the warlord's troops. He wound up marrying the girl when it was all over."
"Is Hanecy also an American?"
"Calls himself a white Chinese citizen. He's got both Chinese and British passports. Lived in Shanghai since he was twelve. His father had been managing director of the East India Company's Asian operations. Died when the boy was seventeen. He went to work for this Ho Sung instead of going back to London for a college education."
"That would be easy to verify," the General stated. "I mean, his father's employment, Sir Alan. We can telegraph London. Tell me, Mr. Winthrop, what is your source of this information?"
"Little things that Mrs. Hanecy dropped during our occasional chats. A few pieces came from a restaurant owner one block from the bank--a man named Fu Chow. I confess I did ply him for information--out of curiosity, mind you. It was highly irregular for a man in my position. But I was curious."
"What prompted you to question this Fu Chow?"
"That's the curious thing. One day, while having lunch at his restaurant, I noticed Fu Chow was wearing an unusual red jade ring, same as the ones worn by Hanecy and his wife. I made some comment about having seen that ring before--on the fingers of one of our bank's customers. Fu Chow shrugged it off, but I knew from his expression that he knew the man I was talking about. So the ring became a conversation piece from time to time--when I'd visit the restaurant, or when Fu Chow came to the bank to make deposits or discuss possible investment opportunities with me. He'd reveal little things about Hanecy. What stuck in my mind was that Fu Chow always spoke highly of Hanecy, and said that he had been well respected by the elders in Shanghai."
"I see. What did you make of the rings?"
"I supposed them to be the symbol of some old Chinese order or tong."
"That's highly likely, Garrett," Sir Alan said. "Such things exist in China to this day. But for a white man to be part of such an order is very rare." Then turning to the General, he asked, "What do you think, General? Could this Hanecy be the kind person you're looking for?"
"A strong possibility. Let me first contact London about his father's previous connection with the East India Company. If that's confirmed, I'd like you to arrange a meeting for me with Hanecy."
"Good enough," Sir Alan confirmed. Standing up, he walked around the desk and shook the banker's hand, and said, "Thanks again for coming, Garrett. I'll let you know how this turns out, but I won't reveal your involvement."
"Thank you. I'd appreciate that."
"Do you know where he lives?"
"He's leased or purchased the home of one of our former customers who's moved his family to Vancouver. It's up in the hills overlooking the city, close to Victoria Park. I don't have the address or Hanecy's telephone number in memory, but I'll call you as soon as I return to my office."
* * * *
Late on the morning of the following day, Tuesday, September 11, 1939, the General's staff car wound its way up Dawu Street to the Hanecy residence. As the General peered out of the side window at the city below, he remarked, "A magnificent view, Wellerby. Hate to think of the destructive Japs crawling all over this place."
"Yes, sir," remarked his adjutant, glued to the wheel.
Dawu Street was difficult to navigate; it was barely wide enough for two cars to pass each other. Luxurious old Chinese houses surrounded by stone walls with spiked wrought-iron fences on the left; a sheer drop of a thousand feet or more on the right.
"I think the house is just ahead, according to the directions I was given," said the driver. "There it is, number 79."
The massive gates were open because the General was expected. The car with a small British flag on each fender pulled up to the front of the house, and immediately the door opened.
The General exited and sized up his host--a tall, slender man, obviously in good physical condition. He at once noticed the thin, white scar that slashed diagonally down his left cheek. Not a man who flinches in the face of danger, he thought.
"Mr. Hanecy?" he asked, and shook an iron-like hand.
"Good morning, General. Come this way."
The driver who had opened the door for the General came abreast, and the General said, "This is my adjutant, Lieutenant Wellerby."
The younger man saluted smartly.
Hanecy smiled. "Glad to meet you, too, Lieutenant."
When they were seated and his housekeeper had laid out the tea service, Hanecy asked, "What's the purpose of your unexpected visit, General?"
"I've been sent from London to take charge of intelligence operations in this region. As you know or suspect, Hong Kong is likely to be the next major Japanese objective. It's the only major port south of Shanghai--a jumping off point for the take-over of Vietnam, Laos, Thailand, Burma, and whole Indo-China region. One of my roles is to assess the Japanese military's strength in Guangdong province. We're certain that when the push for Hong Kong commences, it will come from Canton--a huge industrial center; it's on the Pearl River, which flows past Hong Kong. The only way that we can determine where the Japanese forces are gathering is send out reconnaissance missions. With it, we hope to form estimates of when the assault could begin. Hopefully, that will give us sufficient warning so that we can evacuate the government and British subjects living here."
Hanecy sat down behind his desk. "My wife and I have been talking about the inevitability of leaving Hong Kong for that very reason. We don't necessarily wish to, but I don't see how this is avoidable. Please go on, General. I didn't mean to interrupt you."
"Quite all right," said the General. "Shows me you appreciate the urgency of our situation. Which of course brings me to the reason why I'm here."
"Why not just get to the point. Obviously you feel I can help in some way."
"I need someone with your experience and knowledge to lead a mission behind enemy lines--not to engage the enemy--but to find out precisely where he is. I'm told you know China as well as you know the back of your hand; that you speak many dialects."
"I see," Hanecy remarked thoughtfully. "Who put you on to me?"
"Sir Alan Hawkwood."
"I've never met the governor."
"Someone of mutual acquaintance recommended you."
"Look, General, if we're going to lay our cards on the table, you'll have to tell me his name, or we'll call it a day."
The General hesitated. "It was Garrett Winthtop of Barclay Bank."
With that, Hanecy smiled knowingly. "How long will this reconnaissance mission take?"
"Up to two weeks. You'd be outfitted with the best equipment at our disposal."
"How much time will I have to consider this request?"
"Time is of the essence. I'd like to know before the day is out."
"Can I choose my own men? It would be risky to go in with a group of white men who don't know the territory or speak the dialects. They wouldn't last two days."
"I think that can be arranged. We have special funding set aside for you and the others."
"I'd not do it for the money, General. I have more than I need. Whatever you allocate would go to the others. They'll well earn it. All I would ask, if I don't return, is that you help vacate my wife and son to a safer place--perhaps Australia or the United States."
"I'd see to that personally, Mr. Hanecy," the General assured him.
"All right, I'll do it. When are we to leave?"
"As soon as possible. Would day after tomorrow suit you--Thursday?"
"I should be able to find a crew of four or five by then. They won't be spit and polish types. My right arm will be a Burmese pirate and jungle fighter named Balusa. We've often worked together during the past ten years. The others would be almost as bad."
"I understand. Can you meet us in Sir Alan's office tomorrow morning at eight for a conference. We need to go over maps, supply lists, special equipment you might need. We also need to discuss ciphers--encoding and decoding--and air support should you need it. I don't want to leave anything to chance. Sir Alan's office is our base of operations for security reasons. It's on the fourth floor. Just present yourself to the reception desk. They'll be expecting you."
"Eight o'clock it is."
They shook hands and Hanecy showed them to the door. He then returned to his library and dialed a number. "Fu Chow," he said. "Find Balusa at once and have him call me. I have an urgent matter to discuss."
He leaned back in his chair wondering how he would break the news to Rachel when she returned home from the hospital.
* * * *
Driving down the steep road, the General asked, "What did you think of this Hanecy?"
"I wouldn't want to tangle with him, sir. He has the coldest eyes I've ever seen, and he moves like a cat."
"Exactly my sentiments, Wellerby. I think we've got the right man for this job. It will require every bit of cunning he possesses."
* * * *
Balusa called within the hour. Hanecy was still sitting behind his desk in the library, scribbling notes on a pad.
"What is up, my friend?" the familiar voice growled. "Fu Chow said you wanted to talk."
"Some unexpected work has come up. I need you and four of the best men you can find. Intelligence work for the military."
Balusa laughed. "That's funny, my friend. Me work for a government that's looking to put me in jail?"
"The British army isn't the government; and under the circumstances, the police can be persuaded to forget about you."
The Burmese mercenary thought over the proposition. "A change of scenery might be good. I know of two men who would be willing to come along if the pay is good. Fu Chow can recommend two more. Maybe his cousin, whom I know."
"They'll be paid. So will you."
"Where are we going?"
"Guangdong province--to find Japanese troop positions and report on them. No engagement with the enemy, unless we can't avoid it. I don't have any details yet. I'll receive them at a meeting tomorrow morning. I'd like you there as well. Meet me in front of Government House a few minutes before eight."
"Guangdong? Ouch! That's a hot-bed of Japanese activity. However, I will have four men by tonight, "Balusa said confidently.
"One thing," Hanecy cautioned. "Don't say where we are going, unless you know you can trust them implicitly. But it would be fair to advise them of the danger."
"Leave it to me, my friend."
* * * *
Hanecy waited until after dinner to inform Rachel about the unexpected developments which had occurred that morning. She was stressed out from a busy day as the O.R. nurse at St. Mary's Hospital when she returned home late in the afternoon. But a small brandy and a short nap revived her. When they had finished eating, they went upstairs to the nursery to put their son, Charles, to bed for the night.
Now they were seated on the veranda at the back of the house, sipping iced brandy with soda, and looking out into ornamental garden and fountain. It was a balmy seventy degrees with a faint but damp breeze blowing across the South China Sea.
Rachel seemed to sense that something was amiss. "All right, James. You've had that I-want-to-tell-you-something look all evening. In fact, I first noticed it the moment I walked into the house. It's not good news, I suspect. So let's get it over with."
He cleared his throat. "I had a visit from a Major-General Hillman this morning. He's taking over intelligence operations in this region. There have been troubling developments with the Japanese occupation of Guangdong province. Hillman says it's a matter of time before the Japs overrun Hong Kong. They'd like to get some kind of assessment of troop strength. That would give them a better idea of how much time the governor would have to evacuate Hong Kong."
"So you told him you'd go."
He nodded.
"I might have suspected something like that. The doctors and staff have talked of nothing else for the past few days. Everyone's on edge about it. When do you leave?"
"Thursday."
"Not alone, I hope?"
"I've contacted Balusa. He's rounding up four additional mercenaries."
"I know you two are thick as thieves, and I don't think I'll ever get to like him, despite the fact that he helped save my father's hospital. But no doubt he's the best man to cover your back."
"He knows Guangdong province better than I do. We're attending a planning meeting in the governor's office at eight tomorrow morning. I'll get a better picture then of what's involved."
Rachel stared silently into the darkness. Finally, she asked, "What should I do if you don't come back?"
"Empty the bank accounts. Take the gemstones from the library safe. There are also securities and gemstones in the bank's safety-deposit box. Major-General Hillman promised he would arrange safe passage for you out of Hong Kong, to wherever you wished to go."
"That's small consolation for losing you, but I understand that you are doing this as much for us as for Hong Kong. You know, James, I've become very fatalistic in the last two years. War does that to you, doesn't it?"
Hanecy did not reply. He took her hand in his, brought it to his lips, and kissed it.
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