Mountbatten said, "Major Ian Campbell, Chairman, one of my aides. The Corporal is his batman. Their regiment is the Highland Light Infantry."

"Batman?" Mao enquired.

"A soldier servant," Mountbatten explained.

"Ah, I see." Mao nodded enigmatically and turned to Campbell. "The Highlands of Scotland, am I right? A strange people. The English put you to the sword, turned your people off their land, and yet you go to war for them."

Ian Campbell said, "I am a Highlander, flesh and bone, a thousand years behind me, Laird of Loch Dhu Castle and all around like my father and his before me, and if the English need a helping hand now and then, why not?"

Mao actually smiled and turned to Mountbatten. "I like this man. You should lend him to me."

"Not possible, Chairman."

Mao shrugged. "Then to business. I have little time. I must make the return journey in no more than thirty minutes. What do you offer me?"

Mountbatten glanced at Stillwell, who shrugged, and the Admiral said to Mao, "Our American friends are not able to offer arms and ammunition to you and your forces."

"But everything the Generallisimo needs they will supply?" Mao asked.

He stayed surprisingly calm and Mountbatten said, "I believe I have a solution. What if the RAF flew in ten thousand tons a month over the Hump to Kunming, assorted weapons, ammunition, and so forth?"

Mao selected a cigarette from an old silver case and the young officer lit it for him. The Chairman blew out a long plume of smoke. "And what would I have to do for such munificence?"

"Something," Mountbatten said. "I mean, we have to have something. That's only fair."

"And what would you have in mind?"

Mountbatten lit a cigarette himself, walked to the open door, and looked out at the rain. He turned. "The Hong Kong Treaty, the lease to Britain. It expires July first, nineteen ninety-seven."