When we were out in the vast open area of Tiananmen, Bowman resumed where he had left off. “You’re in trouble, Eric,” he repeated. “Bézy will come after you, now that he’s convinced himself I don’t know anything. He’s pretty worked up about Navarre. He seems to think you’re responsible for his running away today. And he’s absolutely positive you work for the CIA.”

“Maybe that will protect me.” It was a strange thought—after dreading for so long that anyone would guess at that connection—to consider that it might actually do me some good. “Maybe they’re afraid of the agency.”

“Maybe so, Eric, but that’s a risky bet.”

We were nearing the giant obelisk in the middle of the square, known as the Monument to the People’s Heroes. Standing on its stone steps was a man with earphones on his head and a parabolic dish pointed toward us. About fifteen yards behind us was a pair of men who’d been tracking us since we left the taxi. The Chinese were not subtle about surveillance. We turned our backs to the man with the dish. Bowman lowered his voice.

“Bézy is careful about picking fights. He had his Chinese friends work me over today because he thinks he owns me. You’re different. He may be afraid of messing with you, but don’t bet your life on it. These people are seriously upset. I don’t know what you wandered into at Qinghua—and I don’t want to know—but they act like it’s the Manhattan Project.”

“That’s exactly what it’s like.”

“Will you shut up! Jesus! You are such a … kid!” That was the worst thing Bowman could think of to say. He actually smiled as he said it, and he meant it. I was a kid, and he had to protect me from my inexperience. “How are we going to take care of you, Eric? How do we get you through the next few days? What about going to the American embassy?”

“No. I can’t do that. That’s what they’re expecting me to do. It would confirm everything they already think.”

“So what, if it saves your life.”

“No,” I repeated. “This is not a negotiable item, so drop it.”

“Okay. What about leaving China on the first flight tomorrow?”

“Will you come with me?”

“No. Can’t do it. I have to make my speech to the Asian Communications Conference, don’t forget. And I want to talk to Peyron before I leave. I want to tell him, in my own words, what his sadistic friend Bézy did to me. Peyron pushes the buttons. I want him to know what comes out the other end. Besides, what can they do to me they haven’t already done?”

“You know their secrets, Arthur. They won’t let you walk away with them.”