A. MARC ROSS
A. Marc is a corporate lawyer. Marc’s prior novel, The Conscripted Extremist, was a 2024 Next Generation Indie Book Award Finalist. He has published many professional articles, appeared on U.S. and Chinese television and frequently lectured at conferences. Marc is an alumnus of Stanford Law School where he was an Editor of the Law Review. He lives with his wife in New York City.
At ta c k i n g t h e D r a g o n
An unknown group is carrying out terrorist attacks to undermine China’s Communist Party and China’s global expansion. Wes Robertson, an American businessman who is injured in one of the attacks, becomes caught up in the hunt for the terrorists as does Maria Braga, the American Ambassador to an African country where people died from another. As Wes and Maria hunt the perpetrators in China and the United States they become romantically involved. Meanwhile, Chinese officials suspect Wes may be involved with the terrorists, and the terrorists seek to stop Wes, killing him if need be. Can Wes and Maria discover who is behind these attacks and stop them before it is too late? Their search leads to a final confrontation and a surprising ending.
A. MARC ROSS
AT TA C K I N G THE DRAGON A NOVEL
A. MARC ROSS
Publisher Page
an imprint of Headline Books
Terra Alta, WV
Attacking the Dragon by A. Marc Ross copyright ©2025 A. Marc Ross All rights reserved. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents, except where noted otherwise, are products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any other resemblance to actual people, places or events is entirely coincidental. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any other form or for any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording or any information storage system, without written permission from Publisher Page. To order additional copies of this book or for book publishing information, or to contact the author: Headline Books, Inc. P.O. Box 52 Terra Alta, WV 26764 www.HeadlineBooks.com mybook@headlinebooks.com Publisher Page is an imprint of Headline Books ISBN 13: 9781958914779 Library of Congress Control Number: 2025939379
P R I N T E D I N T H E U N I T E D S TAT E S O F A M E R I C A
To my wife Debbie and in memory of my parents.
Main Characters Americans Wesley Robertson—U.S. businessman with China contacts Ambassador Maria Braga—U.S. Ambassador to The Republic of Equatorial Guinea Jack Laroosh—Head of Security at U.S. Embassy in Equatorial Guinea Aarav Rajan—U.S. diplomat assigned to U.S. Embassy in India Chinese Authorities He Tiankai—Senior Party member; outranks others Haofu Tao—Senior Party member and a leader of Rising Star Delegation Bai Shuping—Minister of State Security (MSS) Gao Feng—Senior Investigator at MSS; Bai Shuping’s assistant Linping Biyu—Gao Feng’s female assistant investigator Lai Cheng—Gao Feng’s male assistant investigator Du Shouwen—MSS agent in charge of surveillance Jin Lien—MSS surveillance agent Chinese Steel Plant Workers Xi Zuzou—Head of steel manufacturing team Miyu—Crane worker on manufacturing team Caidong—Worker on manufacturing team Dr. Hong Deng—Head quality tester
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Chinese Construction Company Li Tianhua—Company Executive Engineer Zhang Yang—Company Senior Engineer in charge of dam construction project; reports to Li Tianhua Others Fei Xu—Rising Star Delegate Yin Liu Jie—Lead Operative Athena—reports to Yin Liu Jie Wu Caihu—reports to Yin Liu Jie Lewis Ghali—reports to Yin Liu Jie Equatorial Guinea President Messomo—President of Equatorial Guinea Kwame Burico—Eldest son of Burico family Pedro—Young African guard at dam site Crujidos—Old African guard at dam site Javier—reporter for El Pais, a Spanish newspaper The Republic Of Niger General Keita—Head of Niger Army Secretary Kartal—Turkish government official Colonel Altan Yilmaz—ex-Turkish military
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1 Shenzhen, China The American had been in Hong Kong. Now, only hours later, he was in the city of Shenzhen on China’s mainland, dashing from a long black sedan as he hurried to meet the senior Chinese government official and high-ranking member of the Chinese Communist Party who had summoned him. He rushed past a delegation of Party members, ignoring them, while they were surprised to see hurrying by them the tall white qweilo, a derogatory term for foreigners. Haofu Tao, the woman who had called Wesley Robertson, greeted him outside the building where the Delegation was to go. She and Wes exchanged bows, his deeper than hers, then they stood talking quietly, drawing the attention of more members of the Delegation since Haofu Tao was its principal leader. She led Wes into a far corner of the lobby by a mannequin dressed as a warrior, where they sat, huddled in conversation. This was the corporate headquarters and a manufacturing facility for a Chinese tech company. After exchanging bows with company executives lined up to greet them and entering the lobby, the Delegates continued to sneak looks at the two, wondering why Haofu Tao was talking to this qweilo and whispering about it among themselves. The Delegates were to receive a tour of the company’s facility, so they followed a company executive down a long hallway through heavy double metal doors onto the factory floor. A member of the Delegation, a short young woman, stopped just 1
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inside the factory area. She held open one of the doors, waiting on Haofu Tao and the qweilo, who was following slightly behind her. The two of them were almost at the door as Haofu Tao smiled at the woman. An ear-splitting blast erupted. Explosions ripped through the factory space. Flames shot up. The force blew Haofu Tao backward, driving her into Wes and hurling them both back further into the hallway. It flung the young woman against the edge of the door. The factory floor became littered with splintered machines, slices of metal rods, blood, limbs, and corpses as flames and smoke engulfed the space. Wes lay unconscious on the floor. Slowly, he came around. His left shoulder was in agony, his hearing was dulled, and he was dazed. Haofu Tao lay near him, unmoving. Her clothes were torn and she was bleeding. He dragged himself to her, put an ear to her mouth, and was relieved to hear breaths, faint but audible. Using his right arm for leverage, he pulled himself to his feet and limped toward the smoke and heat. He got only a few steps onto the factory floor before the heat stopped him from advancing any further. The smell of burning flesh seared his nostrils. He could barely see through the smoke and flames into the blast area, but he made out enough. There were shattered machines and mangled bodies strewn everywhere. He could see body parts and make out pools of blood. He did not see anyone moving nor hear any sounds other than the roar of the fire. He closed his eyes briefly, unable to look at the carnage, then backed away, stumbling over the lifeless body of the woman who had been holding the door. He reached Haofu Tao and, with his good arm, lifted her torso and dragged her, backpedaled up the hall and then through the lobby. He was near the front door when he crumpled to his knees and gently placed Haofu Tao down. Cradling her head with his good arm, he passed out.
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2 Mumbai, India, Several Months Earlier The meeting had been set for Mumbai, India. June. The humidity sat at ninety and the city baked in the ninety-fivedegree temperature. Rain pounded the streets, drenching the fancy new buildings, the shacks in the surrounding slums, and the unfortunate people trying to survive in them. It was that season. A taxi stopped opposite a luxury western-style hotel. A man wearing a raincoat and a large, brimmed hat clambered out. He started to open his umbrella, but the wind flipped it inside out, almost striking him. Cursing, he tossed it away before darting between the traffic coming from both directions. The wind whipped open his partially buttoned coat, and he could feel the rain soaking his pants’ legs. By the time he made it across the street and was sheltered under the hotel’s overhang, the rain had anointed him a member of the city’s great washed. Inside the hotel, he removed his hat and coat and shook them, spraying the marble floor. Loudly exhaling, he took several cloth hand towels from a side table and wiped his face and his pants. He shook his head and frowned while tossing the wet towels into a nearby gold-rimmed basket and thought I hate having to come to this city. Shaking himself like a wet dog, he deposited his outerwear with the sari-clad coat check girl before making his way to the tearoom off the lobby, stepping gingerly so his wet shoes did not slip on the slick mosaic-patterned marble floor. 3
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Pausing at the entrance, he smelled the fragrant odor of spices. The room was decorated with traditional Indian motifs, including basreliefs of Hindu gods and pillars bearing fake carvings. Rugs hung from some walls and long strands of small glistening multi-colored beads dangled in entranceways. A fountain with a six-foot-high gold-colored hookah in its center occupied the middle of the room. Water jetted from the hookah’s base, splashing near the fountain’s outer rim. Spotting the person he was to meet, the man weaved his way to a table at the fountain’s edge. As he did so he noted that the splashing water drowned out the sound of conversations, a plus for his meeting. The man he had come to meet remained seated, not rising in greeting nor showing any emotion. A tea service rested on the table, and the newcomer, still wet, took the empty seat, muttered about “Old Testament” weather, and poured himself a cup. He examined his tablemate, struck as always by the latter’s appearance. The man’s coal-black swept-back hair, thin, angular face with an aquiline nose, and, as his observer knew from past meetings, measuring at slightly below average height but with a lean, strong body. His skin had the light brown coloring of a native of the Indian subcontinent whose ancestors had mixed, probably by force and probably more than once, with the Empire’s soldiers. Today, the man was wearing expensive white linen slacks, an off-white tailored jacket, and a heavily starched pale blue shirt with several buttons left open. The new arrival knew that even if he had not been wet and sweating from the rain and the humidity, his appearance would have paled in comparison. By contrast, the newcomer was stout. He had a roundish, wide face bearing Mongolian features and a heavy, unkempt beard. His clothes were of cheap manufacture and well worn. He looked harmless but secretly took pride in having heard it said by those who had survived encounters with him he didn’t seem like the sort of man who would… 4
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His table mate went by the code name Chaucer. He had given the new arrival the code name Oscar although the man usually went by the alias Nambaryn Ochirbat. Chaucer flicked an invisible speck from his lapel. Not bothering with preliminaries, he announced, “For that mission, we’ve decided how we’ll use what you are to provide. How does your part stand?” Oscar wiped more remnants of rain and sweat from his face. “I’ve narrowed it to two choices back in China. Either should be satisfactory. I’ve made initial contact with my likely agents, although they’ve no idea yet that we want anything from them.” “Good.” Chaucer glanced around. “What about your business here? Is it doing well?” Oscar shrugged. “Fair. I met with two potential outlets which could prove to be good long-term customers. My manager here continues to run the office well.” “That’s good. Your foreign offices provide useful covers for us.” Oscar’s eyes latched onto a beautiful woman in her early twenties with fair skin and blonde hair. She wore a tight silver dress with a deep plunging neckline. She was coming toward them from behind Chaucer. As she passed, she did not glance down, but her right hand glided across the tabletop and, for the briefest of moments, slid under Chaucer’s napkin. She was good; Oscar barely caught the drop despite sitting right there. He looked around. Oscar was sure no one else had seen. He thought anyone watching would’ve been fixed on that cleavage and the dress stretching across her round behind, not her hand. Oscar was right. Most of the men and some of the women were watching her, and the looks of many showed they wanted her. Exiting, she turned and looked over the room, noting the faces watching her but revealing no emotions. Chaucer paid her no attention, and while others looked at her, he nonchalantly slid his napkin with its contents onto his 5
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lap. Quietly, he said, “Here are the details. Our intended use and the required formula and methods. Study them and let me know your chosen source…soon. I will make sure it is selected as the supplier.” Oscar nodded. They sipped their tea. Finishing his cup, Chaucer rubbed his face around his mouth and asked, “What about Project Falling Stars?” referring to another of Oscar’s assignments. “I’ve picked the target and the when. It will be in several months. I haven’t yet decided upon the exact details, but am confident it will be a high body count.” Neither showed any emotion. “Do so, then once you have worked out your plan, forward it through the usual channels for approval.” Oscar nodded. Knowing he was pushing, with a cocked head, he asked in an even quieter voice, “What about the plans for the coup?” Chaucer’s mouth turned down. “Don’t concern yourself with that. I’ll just say that it too will take time. Remember, our foes may have forgotten how to be patient and to take the long view. But we have learned well.” Chaucer pushed back his chair and stood, smoothing out invisible creases in his jacket. As he left, he walked by Oscar, briefly blocking him from sight by the rest of the room and dropped his napkin on top of Oscar’s. Oscar reached underneath it and pocketed its hidden thumb drive and a hotel room card key. Without looking back, Chaucer said over his shoulder, “It’s room 1607. Enjoy.” He stopped and looked back at Oscar. “Do not fail us. It would not be good for our plans. And it would be very bad for you.” In moments, he had left the tearoom and then the hotel. Oscar sat for a few minutes, mainly watching the steam rise from a second cup and trying to block out Chaucer’s last words. 6
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He did not know Chaucer’s motives for involving himself in these actions, but he did not doubt the man’s threat. He raised one arm, beckoning for the check, and pulled out several damp bills. He did not mind paying for the tea especially because, as was their practice, Chaucer had paid for the room upstairs as well as the fair-skinned blonde awaiting him there. *** Several days later, an obscure government office in Beijing received the blonde’s report. It arrived along with many other weekly reports by others from many locations. Her report contained some details, including physical descriptions of both men. She wrote, “Did not learn either man’s name. The Mongolian-looking one is from China; he has no distinguishing body marks. The South Asian man does not seem native. Learned no information of concern, but they seem suspicious.” The report was filed away with so many others.
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3 Shenzhen, China, Several Months Later The China Southern Airline plane touched down smoothly at Shenzhen Bao’an International Airport and then commenced its long taxi to its gate. Onboard was its precious cargo, a delegation of young Chinese Communist Party members, unofficially called ‘Rising Stars.’ Most of the Rising Stars were in their late twenties, but all had already achieved meaningful success in their fields and demonstrated strong Party loyalty. For each of them, this trip could be a major step on the road to higher levels. However, the Delegates knew there were other flights to other destinations with other Rising Stars—the competition was fierce, and the prospect of advancement daunting. The plane stopped at its gate. When a flight attendant announced they could exit, Fei Xu, the group’s youngest Delegate, looked toward the front and thought of soldiers as the passengers started to deplane…each row waiting for the preceding row to move forward before stepping into the aisle. When it was her row’s turn, she let the others go first and dragged her carry-on behind her, her shoulders slumped. As she made her way, she thought how thrilled she had been to be selected as a Rising Star. It could catapult her advancement in the Party and the Ministry she wanted to work for. However, pulling her bag she thought again about how she had not wanted to be assigned to Shenzhen. Eventually having collected their luggage, the group boarded buses. Fei Xu had never been to Shenzhen, so took a window seat. 8
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While peering out, in the smog-blackened window’s reflection she made out an elderly woman standing in the aisle. “May I join you, Fei Xu?” the woman asked. Fei Xu turned and instantly recognized the woman. With her mouth gaping, she nodded. Recovering, she blurted out, “Haofu Tao! I would be most honored.” Haofu Tao sat and settled her carry bag on her lap. Fei Xu shifted sideways to face the other woman more directly. She knew she was fawning but could not help herself. “I am also most honored, Haofu Tao, that you know my name.” The other woman dismissed the comment with a wave. “Nonsense. We Leaders have had your names and detailed information about each of you for some time.” She leaned slightly toward Fei Xu and sounding annoyed, said, “It is also easier to remember the women, there being few of us.” True, and a matter to which Fei Xu had given much thought, but not wanting to speak negatively about the Party, she said nothing and only stared wide-eyed. Throughout the ride, Haofu Tao acted as tour guide. She pointed out special sites and informed Fei Xu about local points of interest. Fei Xu missed much of what Haofu Tao said, still struck by sitting with her. Officially, Haofu Tao’s position was not too lofty: a senior economic analyst for the President. Nevertheless, her influence was known to be far-flung, reaching across many government Ministries. It was the rare official, even at the highest levels, who chose to tangle with her. As they neared the hotel Fei Xu suddenly wondered, is Haofu Tao sitting next to me because she knows what I’ve done? She shivered. ***
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Many consider Shenzhen to have the finest hotels in China. Many of these are five-star Western brands catering primarily to foreign businessmen and rich Chinese. Until a few years ago, Fei Xu’s group, or at least its leaders, might have stayed at such hotels. However, following President Xi Jinping’s attacks on extravagance, only elite Party members frequented them. Fei Xu’s bus let them off at a three-star traditional Chinese hotel. Looking around the lobby, Fei Xu noticed worn spots on the carpet and frayed threads on the lobby furniture. Reaching her room, she discovered its one window would not open, trapping a musty smell. Nevertheless, she was pleased she had her own room and it had a private bath. That evening, the Delegates sat through several after-dinner speeches. The first speaker was a tall, thin man who covered several topics, most of which the Rising Stars already knew. He reminded them, “Shenzhen and the surrounding region comprise a leading high-tech manufacturing locale. Here, many of China’s key industrial companies are located and many of China’s key technological developments take place. During your month of factory tours, seminars, and meetings with leading business figures you will learn much and perhaps find new paths on your journey for the Party.” When the speeches finally ended, many retired to their rooms, tired from the long day of travel and long speeches and knowing many long days and speeches lay ahead. I should rest, Fei Xu decided, but just then, Haofu Tao approached her. “Did you enjoy the dinner and find the speeches inspiring Fei Xu?” Haofu Tao asked, rolling her eyes to make clear her view of the speeches. She continued, this time sounding sincere. “This can be a great opportunity for you. A chance to take a big step forward in the Party, learn much, and further enhance your position at your Ministry.” “Thank you,” the young woman stammered. 10
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For the first time, the two women were standing next to each other. Fei Xu’s eyes were level with Haofu Tao’s, and Fei Xu realized they were equally short, but while Fei Xu was thin, Haofu Tao was even skinnier, Fei Xu seeing the outlines of her bones and veins through her skin. “I read your bio’s description of your work, but it is annoyingly vague. I would like a more detailed explanation,” Haofu Tao said. Taking Fei Xu by the arm and leading her toward a sofa against a far wall, she added, “Come, we’ll be more comfortable there.” Fei Xu looked over her shoulder. Other Rising Stars were looking at them, some with pursed lips and some with frowns. Without looking, Haofu Tao said, “Ignore them. Our speaking makes many of them jealous and the jealousy of some is inflamed by their ambition. I don’t sense this in you, but many are hoping and, I am positive in several cases plotting, to serve as members of the National People’s Congress, perhaps as soon as our next session.” She shook her head slightly. “Perhaps some dream of rising even higher.” Fei Xu’s work was highly secret. She was only permitted to discuss it with her superiors and others directly involved with it. However, she thought she must be free to do so with Haofu Tao and, while it was not phrased as such, considered Haofu Tao’s request to be an order. Once they were seated, Fei Xu began. “As you know, I work in the Ministry of Industry and Information Technology and assist State Security on occasion. I also advise a few government groups outside of official channels. These are known by relatively few, although I’m sure you know all about them.” She paused to allow Haofu Tao to speak, but getting no response, she continued, striving to keep a neutral tone. “My technical skills are strong and I’m adept at accessing information online, including on the dark web. My expertise also involves locating and identifying data sources and assessing the 11
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significance of information as well as how to shape it for public consumption. Sometimes this has negative consequences for the Party’s foes.” She blushed slightly, then said, “I apologize for sounding immodest; however, this is the best way to properly explain what I do.” “Never apologize for your talents. Go on.” Fei Xu continued for fifteen minutes straight. She explained more precisely what she did and, without expressly saying so, made clear the value of her work and by implication her own value. Haofu Tao listened closely, impressed by such a physically unimposing young woman not only having that much expertise, but understanding her talents. She reminds me somewhat of me in my youth. Haofu Tao thanked her and added, “I must admit to not fully understanding everything you do and have no understanding of how you do it. I do know though, the MIIT considers your fields to be of extremely high importance. Moreover, your supervisors across the several other groups with which you work,” she smiled slightly at Fei Xu, “yes, I know of that…they consider you perhaps to be the most skilled of your generation in these areas.” After a sly glance at Fei Xu, Haofu Tao noncommittally added, “I am also aware of your other activities.” Fei Xu’s head snapped up and she stared at the older woman. This is it. It’s all over. “I’m sorry, I do not understand,” she replied, almost whispering. “Come now. Despite your excellent skills, did you really think you could hide your activities from us? I’ve been aware of your actions for some time.” Fei Xu gulped and looked down. She had been detected. But how? And what was she doing on this trip talking to Haofu Tao rather than being severely punished? Haofu Tao remained silent, waiting for the younger woman 12
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to speak. Fei Xu struggled to regain her self-control, took several deep breaths, clasped her hands, sat up straight, and looked directly at Haofu Tao. Rather than denying her actions, she asked in a firm voice, “Then why am I here and why have you bothered to talk to me? Why am I not in jail or a re-education camp?” “You’ve much to learn, dear. Yes, everybody must follow the Party line. However, in the cases of the special few, of which you may prove to be one, some independent thought and even the occasional independent action at one’s early stages can be valuable.” She continued in a firm voice, “Provided it does not go too far.” Sweat rolled down the back of Fei Xu’s neck, but she retained her upright posture. “So what did you do? Mainly, you attempted to enable a proethnic-minority, non-violent, small student group to hide from us their site and communications on the dark web. I applaud your commitment, that you got away with it for as long as you did, and, most of all, you are putting yourself at risk to do so.” Fei Xu remained speechless. “Do not misunderstand me. We will not permit aggressive actions or such dissent. However, allowing someone like you to learn from this can be of value to the state. These actions of yours demonstrated this side of your personality as well as your courage. They also helped make you a Rising Star rather than just an extremely talented tech worker. As a result, you and I will spend much time together during this trip. “Outside your field, you know little…not just substantive knowledge but about yourself and how to function within the Party. You need to know these things to enhance your prospects. Our special project, between the two of us, will be for me to provide your initial exposure to many of these areas. I’ve been looking for young women in the Party worthy of my help and I think you are one. This is why I personally arranged for you to be here with me. Now it is late, and we start early in the morning.” 13
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Haofu Tao rose. “Understand, you are done assisting that student group. We arrested its leaders and many members earlier today.” Fei Xu was up for hours, confused by what Haofu Tao had said. She was excited about the possibilities presented and relieved she would escape unharmed, but she felt deep sadness for the students she had helped.
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Book Awards Runner Up Best Fiction, The Beach Book Festival San Francisco Book Festival Award Hollywood Book Festival Award Paris Book Festival Award
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A. MARC ROSS
A. Marc is a corporate lawyer. Marc’s prior novel, The Conscripted Extremist, was a 2024 Next Generation Indie Book Award Finalist. He has published many professional articles, appeared on U.S. and Chinese television and frequently lectured at conferences. Marc is an alumnus of Stanford Law School where he was an Editor of the Law Review. He lives with his wife in New York City.
At ta c k i n g t h e D r a g o n
An unknown group is carrying out terrorist attacks to undermine China’s Communist Party and China’s global expansion. Wes Robertson, an American businessman who is injured in one of the attacks, becomes caught up in the hunt for the terrorists as does Maria Braga, the American Ambassador to an African country where people died from another. As Wes and Maria hunt the perpetrators in China and the United States they become romantically involved. Meanwhile, Chinese officials suspect Wes may be involved with the terrorists, and the terrorists seek to stop Wes, killing him if need be. Can Wes and Maria discover who is behind these attacks and stop them before it is too late? Their search leads to a final confrontation and a surprising ending.
A. MARC ROSS