The steppe was quiet.
Too quiet.
A low wind ran its fingers through the golden grass of northern Suiyuan.
General Fu Zuoyi stood on a ridge above the valley.
Behind him, sentries crouched by camouflaged trench lines, their rifles steady but their hands nervous.
Below them, across the wide basin, came shapes that didn't belong horsemen in unfamiliar uniforms, columns of men in patchwork gear.
"They're coming," his aide whispered.
Fu Zuoyi didn't answer.
He just lit a cigarette and blew out smoke into the wind.
Ten days earlier.
Mukden, Manchukuo
Colonel Seishirō Itagaki laid the map across the table, pointing sharply at the borderlands.
"This is not an invasion," he said, voice clipped and calculated.
"This is a restoration. Prince Demchugdongrub has declared autonomy for Inner Mongolia. Japan merely supports the will of the Mongol people."
His audience nodded junior officers, intelligence agents, political operatives.
All knew the truth.
All played the game.
