The drone soared still higher, tracking the slope then buzzing the team of workers who were preparing the foundation for the new control house high up the slope near the road. Some of the men put down their tools and waved for the camera. Others pulled down their hats and lowered their faces. Public Security was also working on what they called personal trackers, small drones that would be programmed with facial recognition to locate and follow individuals suspected of antisocial behavior.

The drone climbed steadily toward the outcroppings, and as Shan glanced back at the flight controller, he saw a second vehicle pull up with four more knobs. They climbed out and began checking weapons. He watched in helpless agony, knowing they were waiting for the orders that would come from Huan as soon as the drone discovered the location of the Tibetans hiding above. If Lhakpa and Jaya were discovered, they would be sent to a reeducation camp, or worse.

“Watch the bird!” the director suddenly shouted, and Shan turned to see him reaching for Jiao’s radio. “The bird! The bird!” he cried.

Shan saw that indeed a large bird of prey had appeared over the outcroppings and seemed interested in the drone. He had heard more than one story about eagles and lammergeiers attacking drones.

“Do you see a woman up there?” came Huan’s voice over the radio. “I thought I saw her in the camera, but she faded into the shadows.”

Ren darted to his car and returned with binoculars but seemed to have trouble finding the drone in the lenses. Tan grabbed them from him and watched with a widening smile.

The bird never bent its wings as it soared up and down, in an undulating pattern, getting ever closer to the machine.

“Scare it away!” the deputy director shouted into the radio, and the drone abruptly changed course for the bird. As it did so, the long-winged bird jerked upward, then dove.

“No!” came Huan’s furious voice as the bird hit the drone. “No, no no!” he squawked. “Someone shoot that damned bird!”

The bird jerked upward, then seemed to hover a moment before diving again, seemingly mindless of its own safety. Tan handed Shan the binoculars and he watched as it crashed into the propellers on the left side. The drone seemed to stagger then, to Jiao’s furious expletives, flipped sideways, careening toward the vertical rock wall of the pass. It slammed into the cliff, showering down bits of white plastic.

Tan said nothing, just unfolded the photo that had been overlaid with Gekho’s body and made a show of positioning it according to the axis of the valley before holding it up for the director to see. He pointed to the bottom of the image, where the drone had gone down. “Public Security,” the colonel solemnly declared, “just got squeezed in the god’s ass.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN