The Fiery Dragon

The Fiery Dragon Ch 05

After many years David and Phillip meet in Vienna

This is a chapter in a longer story which started in China, about fifty years ago, at the beginning of the first interactions among Americans and Chinese on their territory. It then moved to Chicago, briefly, and now to Vienna. All characters are over 18. © Brunosden, All Rights Reserved.

Author's Note: There is a good deal of back-story to this chapter. But, it is more or less stand alone--without as much character development. The opening paragraphs of Ch 04 have a good summary to the beginning which I won't repeat here. At the end of the last chapter, David and Phillip broke up--or more correctly, Phillip suddenly disappeared from David's life after following him to Chicago. (Phillip is Chinese, the golden son of a Red Guard General and a rising star in Chinese politics.) In the following years, David completed his PhD, moved to Washington DC and began high level secret work in nuclear defense. He became an important national asset. And he was no longer the naïve virgin that had been seduced in Shanghai. He is now a player, the target of almost every gay at the gym--and a few of their friends. His Superman size is legendary in Washington gay circles already, although as is true of so many, he remains in the closet except to his various partners.

David's voice...

It's been seven years now since my PhD was awarded, and I've just celebrated my thirtieth birthday with a fancy meal in a new Washington restaurant called Le Papillon in a new building on Connecticut Avenue. The maitre d' was Vietnamese woman, married to the French chef, Yannick Cam. I guess the food was good, but I was dining alone, and had a paperback spread before me as political stars, almost always with their beautiful young blonde "daughters" clinging to an arm, entered and left. I can't tell you what I ate or drank. I'm sure it was good. But the East Asian vibe made me think about Phillip for the first time in months. I realized that now at 30, I was an "over-the-hill adult, not to be trusted." But, to cap off my birthday, I allowed my fiery dragon to stretch out and exercise later that night in the loneliness of my bedroom.

I had considered inviting one of my favorite hooks to join me. But, I wasn't sure until the last minute that I would even have the evening off--since the research was really intense. And then I decided that I'd rather be alone. I wasn't all that good at small talk--except in bed.

I had considered returning to China for a visit after about three years, perhaps even looking up Phillip Tang, but my boss at DoD remarked that it was a bad idea. I was too valuable, had too many internalized secrets, and might just disappear during the trip. China was a no-no for me. At that point, I didn't know who Phillip really was--or whether he could protect me from the political machine that ran China. So I gave up the idea.

For years, I visited my folks in Winchester (where they had retired just before I graduated) as they began to age, as they picked up on an old hobby tending fruit, in this case, apple orchards. Then I'd take shorter camping trip hikes in the mountains of Virginia and West Virginia, almost always alone. Typically I'd work intensely for very early morning until seven or so for a week, then take a few days off to refuel. My solitude and hard-working style became legendary in the task force. Within a short time, I was promoted to assistant task force manager-- I was being treated as someone very special. The youngest guy on the team was in charge of several of the major sub-projects.

I've developed a little social life--mostly revolving around my co-workers and a few guys that I've met at Gold's Gym--Foggy Bottom. Nothing serious. I never dated a woman, although I frequently had lunch with them--typically in a larger group. Now that I'm a group leader, it is expected that we will have regular lunches--in the office and in restaurants. Even calling this "social life" is an indication of how little I get out.

The gym is a different story. It has become a critical part of my week--four nights a week, late after work. There is a regular group of like-minded guys ranging from 20-somethings to 50-somethings, all working, mostly in government jobs.

After about six months of such diligence, my body was toned and muscled--perhaps more than ever in my life. I was no longer the gawky, slim, tall giant. I was actually approaching the physique of the legendary Superman. Guys at the gym noticed, particularly since I've gotten into weights and needed spotters--which we do on a recip basis. I had an unending series of proposals--several of which I accepted. But, nothing lasted. For most of the partners, I'm pretty sure it was the novelty of fucking or being fucked by a Superman with a BWC. But, I wasn't into it. (Well, my fiery dragon was. But he had the attention span of a two year old--about 20 minutes, if I was lucky. Often, we did it in one of the "rest cubicles" on the second floor of the gym.)

There was one guy, Diego, a surgeon who seemed to hold some promise of a more lasting friendship. We connected with much more than sex. I was really attracted to him, and I think the feeling was mutual. We dated a few times, and each time we had ended in his bed. And on the last two times, he invited me to spend the night--which I did. But, his and my workloads limited our engagement and any further development of a relationship. He was strictly a bottom--not an insurmountable issue for me, but not perfect. And then fate intervened.

In the spring of 1989, I was asked to join a US Delegation headed to the Vienna Nuclear Control Agency--to consult on updating detection technology and to set up protocols for adherence to the Non-Proliferation Treaty which had been in effect now for over 15 years. It would be a six month assignment. Perhaps longer. I was to be second in command, paired with a seasoned State arms control negotiator. I was bored and sleep-walking through life. So, I jumped at it, and a few weeks later, I had closed my Arlington, Virginia apartment, put the stuff in storage, and was headed to Austria.

I had a week to move into the apartment provided by the government, in the compound associated with the US Delegation. I didn't need the time, and so I walked the city, every square kilometer of it. It was spring and the trees along the wide boulevards were beginning to bloom. Window boxes were spouting the first spring bulbs. Winter was over--you could see it on the faces of all of the pedestrians. Young couples, some same sex in liberal Vienna, were strolling arm in arm, casually and aimlessly in the City Centre. And given my height and build, I realized I was often the target of stares.

One day, I had lunch at a café which had just opened its sheltered terrace on one of the canals. (I didn't know it at the time, but the restaurant was at the epicenter of gay Vienna.) Several guys noted the single and expressed welcoming interest. At the time, I wondered how they knew. But, I blew them off. It was too soon.

Then work began. We had had weeks of briefings on our objectives and tactics in Washington. So our first official session was to present a paper on proposed rules for detection of non-compliance. It was held at the Vienna International Centre, a newly constructed building on the Danube--a huge place designed for show--not serious negotiations. Representatives of all of the nuclear "club" were present. A few would-be nuclear countries had been invited to send observers--but they had no voice or vote.

Introductory remarks were made by the leaders of each of the delegations. We went first. Then, UK, France and Russia. So it was after lunch when we reached the "bottom half" of the scheduled delegate presentations. And while the spokesman for the PRC was speaking, I looked over at their delegation which was on the opposite side of the large ring of delegate tables. Phillip was at his left! Now, of course, eight years older, but looking almost as he had on the day he had left. Perhaps his face was a bit leaner and his cheeks a bit hollowed. But, those features only enhanced his attractiveness. He seemed to glow in the light cast by the multiple crystal chandeliers hanging above us. I froze.

He caught me staring--of course, given my height, I towered over most of the other delegates. He pulled a quick enigmatic smile, and his eyes dropped to the papers in front of him without any other acknowledgement.

Phillip was in Vienna! And from his position at the table, he had risen in the ranks of the Foreign Ministry, second in command of the PRC delegation. I'm sure that I colored, but didn't show anything more. But, my mind began to race with plans. And my fiery dragon awoke with a long-delayed vengeance in my tailored slacks. The impossibility of the situation had fueled my arousal--or at least his.

Later on the first day "to open the conference with a sense of camaraderie and purpose," a cocktail party was scheduled at the Hotel Sacher, in central Vienna, near the Volksoper--and the home of the famed Sacher Torte. It was sponsored by the Vienna Government, which, guessing by the quality of the food and wines, had an unlimited budget--to insure that this special agency of the United Nations would continue to meet and maintain its bureaucracy in Vienna. International energy meetings were, after all, becoming a major "industry" for Vienna.

I dressed for the black tie event and headed to the ballroom of the Sacher. Although my black hair had grown out a little too much, I thought that I made quite a good impression in the tailored tuxedo with wide shoulders and nipped severely at my very slim waist. The room was already crowded--and it seemed that more than half of the guests were attired in "military dress." My simple black jacket, even with its satiny lapels, faded into the background with all of the colorful ribbons that rested on the chests of the guests, many of whom were military or royalty! And there were a few Arab robes as well, although, to the best of our knowledge, no Arab nation had nuclear capability.

I headed to the group of men (and one woman) who comprised our delegation. I greeted and toasted them. That was protocol. The woman, a thirty-something daughter of a prominent Senator, hugged me a little longer than necessary--and left her floral perfume behind. I assumed it was an invitation, but I didn't bite. Then, we disbursed, as we had been instructed, to talk with other delegates and pick up any intelligence that might be dropped--deliberately or inadvertently.

As you've probably guessed by now, I'm not very good in these situations. Years of solo research and my deliberately chosen solo lifestyle have not equipped me for small talk. But, I learned that night that I was somewhat of a celebrity among these folks who had made it their business to know the key players. Non-classified versions of several of my papers had been peer-reviewed and published. My name was known. I was obviously the technical brain in our delegation which was attested by my number two rank, perhaps the most accomplished scientist in the room. So, fortunately for me, they came to me. "Shop-talk" was verboten, but it was inevitable in an atmosphere such as this. And at least I had had a few days in Vienna--so I could remark about the flowers, the trees, the Palace, St. Stephen's and the spring ambiance.

I didn't realize it at the time. But, I was by far the tallest man in the room. My shoulders were wide. My upper arms bulged the tuxedo jacket sleeves. My trousers were tailored--and thus my flaccid dick was outlined on my right thigh. And one lock of dark hair had curled down over my forehead--just like the movie Superman.

A succession of younger men, many of whose names I knew from my academic days, appeared and started conversations. I eased into the evening quite well--when I realized that many of the delegates were as inept in social settings as I. I talked about hiking and camping and was given the names of places that I should hike within an hour or so by train from Vienna. Several suggested they would be interested in hiking with me. I was also invited to "back home" places for similar purpose--although all of us knew that such invitations were always polite and rarely serious. I expressed interest and was actually relaxing into the evening.

One eye, however, was watching every move that Phillip Tang made. Hopefully, I wasn't too obvious. He circulated like a seasoned diplomat. But, I realized he was slowly approaching me and was certainly already within my orbit. The handsome young delegate from Paris with whom I was talking realized his token three minutes of small talk was up, wished me well and turned to find another. Phillip slipped into the space. He flashed that enigmatic smile, again and whispered "It's so nice to see you again, Mr. Lee. What, has it been eight or nine years since we toured together in China?"

"Yes, I think just at least eight years," I added, equally equinanimously, "I very much enjoyed that summer. I look forward to returning someday--when I have a little more time to explore places that were not on our itinerary--now that China is so open to the world."

"I'm sure you would be very surprised with the progress we have made. You wouldn't recognize Shanghai. That ancient street we visited and enjoyed so much has been totally razed and is now a complex of six condominium towers. Some regret the loss of Old Shanghai. But others are really excited about the future. Fortunately the Cultural Revolution is fading into the past as China' enters the community of modern nations."

(He was telling me that The Fiery Dragon was gone, I guessed. But, that he certainly remembered it fondly. Maybe he was even suggesting that there was a future.)

"Yes, those old wooden houses were really a treasure. I hope that something is left of them--perhaps in a different location. I'd like to see them again. One in particular was really beautiful. And quite memorable."

(My lame attempt at diplo-speak telling him I might be interested.)

I looked at his hand and saw the gold ring. "And you, Mr. Tang, I presume have married. Do you have children? Are you still living in Shanghai?"

"Yes, shortly after we last were together, Father decided that his plans for me had changed. He wanted me home. I married less than a year later. I now have two boys. They and their mother are in Shanghai of course. Our family is now complete, and Lili, my wife, is totally absorbed in their welfare and education. And, so is my mother. Unfortunately, my father, the General passed away last year, but he met his grandsons before he became ill although one was just a baby. So I guess I am now the head of the family. They live in one of the newer towers, although I am rarely in Shanghai these days. My job is nominally in Beijing where I have a small apartment, but I travel a good deal."

He quieted a bit; then whispered, "I presume that you have not married?"

(Was he telling me that his Father had dictated the departure from Chicago? And that he had done his duty--siring two son-heirs, so that now he was free to pursue his own life?)

I needed a little more detail to decide. "I have not married. And I'm not currently attached or even dating." Then I changed the subject, "So are you in Vienna for long? Are you staying with the delegation? Or at the Embassy?"

"Yes, I'm here for the duration. Perhaps six months. But, I've learned that I don't enjoy living with colleagues. I find that it is boring--and stifling. I like to be among people of different ideas. So I've taken a small apartment, not far from the Embassy. It even has a small garden which is just beginning to show color--every color of the rainbow it seems. A few years ago that would not have been possible. Even now I'm considered somewhat of a loner and iconoclast. But, I've cultivated a preference for a rainbow of experiences. And so long as I'm discrete, no one seems to mind."

(I guess that he was telling me that he was still gay, and engaged in the gay world, although discrete or perhaps closeted. And I think he was issuing a vague invitation.)

"I'm currently at the Embassy--or at least the apartment block attached to it. Also for six months. I'm really a very solitary person. So, I'll probably find something nearby where I don't have to socialize with the staff at every meal. I find it unnerving. I'd rather read or study--or work out. Meals are rarely social occasions for me. I'm not into connections. Save one many years ago. But, that is far into the past."

"I can tell that you've continued to develop your appearance. You were a mere boy when we met years ago. Now you are definitely a well-developed young man, one might even say a 'Superman.' You know in China the past is always with us. We have a saying, 'Know the past, it is also your future.'"

"You have always been a man of China, Mr. Tang. I'm sure you have adapted to its ways. Even though the last years have seen China open to the world, the door does seem to be precariously balanced between open and closed at the moment."

"Yes, I have, even when it meant that I had to sacrifice something I wanted." He paused for just a second or two--I thought he was about to move on--before continuing, "I am hosting a small party, a very small party--at my apartment--next Saturday. Are you by any chance free? I'd love to reminisce a bit about Shanghai. I promise it won't tax your solitary aspirations."

"I believe I am. That sounds interesting. I guess I'll have to clear it with our security. But, I don't see why not."

"Good. Here is my card with the new address. Shall we say six? Informal. If it's nice we'll start in the garden. And see where fate takes us later in the evening."

"Thank you, Mr. Tang. I look forward to it."

He turned and smiled at another group of two Russians and began a conversation with them.

I was exhausted. I had just engaged in five minutes of diplomatic double-talk, straining to understand what was really being said and framing my own comments in similarly vague words. Despite the double entendres, I think I had just agreed to a "date" with Phillip at his place. And I had little doubt what kind of date we both had in mind. So my exhaustion was tempered with excitement.

I left the party early and returned to the apartment. I needed a shower and some release.

Our discussions, meanwhile, continued in the plenary sessions--where nothing would ultimately be decided. Three days of day-long presentations and requests for clarification (which were really attempts to pin down modifications under the guise of "explanation) occupied the rest of the week.

By Friday, I had announced that I'd had enough of group living and dining--and that I was going to look for an apartment. I'd make up the difference from the modest per diem that we were being paid. I was by then reasonably well-off.

Saturday morning I ran, the longest I had run in months. Then I visited two apartments that were to let. One, I noted was a short walk from the address that Phillip had given me. But, I didn't commit. I'd wait until after Saturday night.

I showered and dressed carefully: the ubiquitous chinos (now tailored and reasonably tight), a fitted pale blue button-down and a Navy blazer. Then I added a red silk pocket stuffer with, yes, you guessed, the image of a fire breathing dragon emblazoned over most of one fold. Then I took a taxi to the apartment. I had not alerted security. We were in very safe Vienna--and I was entitled to visit other delegates. At that point, we were working toward a common goal--nuclear non-proliferation--and were not enemies after all. And I had no idea what to expect from Phillip. But, I was nevertheless cautions: I had a cover story--I was going to see if I could get a ticket to the opera.