American Traitor, page 24
part #15 of Pike Logan Series
She said it as a plea. She’d never really do that, but she wanted Pike and Jennifer back in Charleston. Enough of that vacation in Australia. Pike’s answer left her speechless.
“That’s good, because I have something I want you to steal.”
She scrunched her eyes, saying nothing, sure she’d misheard. He came back, saying, “You still there?”
“Uhh . . . yeah?”
“You said your roommate’s father is named Chen Ju-Long, right? What’s he do?”
“He’s some bigwig import/export guy in China. All of the girls here are either daughters of millionaires or work for the government. I have to lie about you all the time.”
He laughed and said, “Just so I’m sure, his name is Chen Ju-Long and he’s an import/export guy?”
Aggravated, she said, “Yeah, Pike, that’s what I said. You want to talk to her instead of me? She’s about to go to breakfast, which I’m missing because I’m talking to you.”
She heard his voice grow serious, saying, “No, doodlebug, I have a favor to ask. A little mission for you.”
She said nothing, confused. He said, “You still there?”
“Yes, but what?”
“Look, I don’t have time to explain. I need you to trust me on this. I need you to get her burner phone and find the number for her father.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Amena, I need it for a work thing. He’s involved with something over here. If it doesn’t pan out, it doesn’t pan out. But just do it for me.”
Her head spinning, remembering her past, she felt a rash of sweat break out. She said, “Involved in what? You’re on vacation. Right? Was that a lie?”
“No! It wasn’t a lie. Look, this is no different than when we met. I ended up in a situation, and I think your roommate can help me. That’s all it is.”
She closed her eyes and said, “The bad man found you. I knew it would happen. You’re not coming home.”
He said, “Oh, no. I’m coming home. Make no mistake about that, but I’ve run into a spot of trouble over here, and I think your roommate’s father is involved.”
She felt a blast of fear, saying, “What trouble? Where’s Jennifer?”
“Whoa, whoa, she’s right here. Don’t panic. I’ll put her on the phone when we’re done, but I need the father’s cell phone number. He’s carrying that with him for her, or he wouldn’t have given her the phone. It’s separated from everything else I can find. Look, she’s probably a lovely girl, and this may be nothing, but I need to check.”
She exhaled in relief and said, “What happened?”
“I’ll tell you when I get back—if it even pans out.”
She went through what he was asking, then said, “Pike, I can’t get to her phone. She keeps it in a desk drawer with a lock. I don’t have the key.”
And she heard a laugh that infused her with calm. Not condescending at all, it was more like he was amused at her lack of confidence, and they were sharing an inside joke.
“Amena, it’s a desk drawer. You’ve picked the pockets of people all over Europe. You broke into an aquarium from an outside window over a cliff. You can’t get into a desk drawer?”
She smiled and said, “Yeah, I can do it. I’ve already done it on my own drawer. It’s not much of a lock.”
“Why did you pick your own drawer?”
“I was bored.”
And she heard his infectious laugh again. He said, “That’s what I want to hear. Hang on, Jennifer wants to talk to you.”
She saw the Chinese girls walking down the hall, all headed to breakfast, and said, “Pike, I can’t talk to her right now. They’re leaving for breakfast. If you want the phone, this is my only shot at it.”
She heard a pause, then, “Okay, but Jennifer’s going to be mad at me. This one is on you. Don’t blame me when it’s over.”
She felt another grin leak out, liking being wanted, and said, “I’m coming on the honeymoon.”
He started to reply, and she saw the caretaker husband through the window. She cut him off, saying, “Gotta go,” and hung up.
She shoved the phone into her skirt, left the balcony, and went back toward her room, running into the husband on the way.
He said, “Hey, aren’t you going to breakfast? Most important meal of the day, or so they say.”
She said, “I know, but I have to finish an essay. Flower’s bringing me a banana. I’ll be okay.”
He was a kind man, but given her past, and her previous independence, she’d grown to find him a little overbearing. As if he was failing if she didn’t make every meal.
He nodded, saying, “If you need help on that sort of thing, you need to bring it up. There’s no reason to miss a meal because of homework.”
She came close to saying, Can I miss a meal to sleep in? But didn’t.
She nodded and went back to her room. She wanted to close the door, but knew that would look suspicious, or would make him come knock. She left it open, sitting on her bed, breathing shallowly with an open mouth to allow her to hear the house.
There was a creak of stairs, and then a door closing down below. She was alone. She darted over to Flower’s desk, turned on a lamp, and snatched a paper clip, bending it into a large U shape. She glanced at the door, then bent another one into a straight pick. She shoved both of them into the lock face, torqueing the U-shaped one to apply tension to the lockset, then using the other to pop the pins.
She knew the lock itself was juvenile, and had cracked many, many like it in the past when she’d had to steal for survival, but now she wondered what she was doing. Betraying a roommate who’d only been kind to her? For what?
But she trusted Pike and Jennifer more than anyone left on earth. If Pike said it was needed—if it was to find someone who’d tried to harm Pike—she’d do it.
She worked the paper clips, glancing down the hall, and felt the lock spring free. She reached inside, sliding her hand back and forth, finding the phone. She pulled it out, an old iPhone 6, and pressed the home button. As she feared, it was locked.
She flicked her hand on the screen, pulling down notifications, and saw two missed calls from the same number. She had no idea who it was, but it was all she could get. If Pike wanted more, it would be a little bit longer to figure out.
She heard a creak from the stairs and shoved the phone deep inside, then closed the drawer, hearing it lock automatically. She turned off the lamp and sprang back, scrambling to her bed. The house manager appeared in the doorway, saying, “Why are you here in the dark?”
She said, “I . . . I was trying to think about my essay.”
He smiled and said, “Or trying to go back to sleep? Amena, I know it’s hard being at a new school, and trying to make friends, but hiding isn’t the way to solve the problem. I promise.”
She sat up, playing an act she’d learned deep in the heart of her worst years, before she’d met Pike, when she’d been caught red-handed doing something wrong. She sniffled, then said, “You may be right. I’m sorry. I’ll try. I really will.”
He flicked the lights on and said, “That’s what I want to hear. It’s never as bad as you think.”
He studied her for a minute, then left the room.
She thought, It’s always as bad as you think.
She pulled her phone out of her skirt and texted Pike, saying, This had better not be for nothing. Flower is a good person.
She heard footsteps on the stairs and stopped, hiding the phone. Flower returned, giving her a banana and saying, “Did you finish the essay?”
Feeling like a traitor, Amena said, “I did. Thank you for this.”
Flower said, “That’s what friends are for. My father has always told me that family is what matters.”
She left the room and Amena texted Pike the number.
Because family is what matters.
Chapter 53
Jake Shu exited the rail station in Cairns almost giddy from lack of sleep. None of the trains offered sleeping cars, and he’d been operating under a crushing amount of anxiety. After meeting the man in Brisbane he was convinced he was being watched 24/7. Every person who passed him caused paranoid thoughts. So much so that he’d made a little bit of an ass of himself on the train ride up, snapping at a man who’d simply asked if he could sit next to him.
The rest of the train passengers had looked at him like he was a lunatic, and he’d backed down, apologizing, but the incident had done nothing to throttle the sweat flowing out of his body.
He took his small carry-on off the train and walked across a street to a mall, entering a food court. He saw a McDonald’s and immediately gravitated toward it, buying lunch and taking a seat, wondering what the hell he’d gotten himself into.
He stroked the top of his thigh where he’d strapped the hard drive containing the information he’d stolen. Terabytes of data that could be manipulated to give all sorts of mischief.
He had begun to believe the money wasn’t worth it. Wasn’t worth this.
He devoured his hamburger, then pulled out his phone and googled the place where he was supposed to stay. Apparently one that didn’t register passports and took cash. He had a feeling it wouldn’t be as nice as his hotel in Brisbane.
He memorized the blue line on Google Maps and exited the mall, walking through the suburban sprawl on the outskirts of Cairns, dragging his carry-on behind him.
Ten minutes later, the sun beating down on him, he found himself sweating outside a less than spectacular backpacker hostel called Asylum. Unlike the ones in the heart of downtown Cairns, competing for the college crowd with beer nights and swimming pools, this one catered to transient workers. People who were here only for a short spell and needed cheap lodging.
He walked inside, finding a lobby with chipped furniture and a reception counter made of plywood. He checked in, the woman saying, “Oh, you have a private room. We don’t get too many of those.”
He smiled, saying, “I’m a big spender.”
The woman laughed, and he paid cash, twenty-eight dollars a day, the woman not asking for any identification. Two minutes later he was in a closet-sized space with a single bed, next to it a metal locker and a floor lamp. No sink, no bathroom, no nothing.
He threw his bag on the floor, unbuckled his pants, and ripped off the tape holding the hard drive on his thigh. He held it in his hands, staring at it. The bane of his existence. He set it on the table and texted his contact, saying, I’m here. And this place sucks. You need to get here soon, or I’m leaving.
Surprising him, his phone showed bubbles, a response coming immediately. He waited, and then read, Stay where you are. Do not leave until told to do so. I will be there soon.
Piqued, he sent back, I’m not staying in this shithole for days. Tell me where to go. I’m done with this.
He watched the bubbles on his phone, and when they appeared, he wished he’d never told these people he’d arrived:
You leave that place and it will be the last thing you do.
He didn’t respond. He sat on the bed and put his head in his hands, wondering how his two-week vacation had come to this.
Paul rolled out of bed and immediately checked his COVCOM—covert communication—connection with Charlie Chan, a hidden application in his laptop that was encrypted end-to-end and impossible to find even if the computer was forensically autopsied.
There was nothing, disappointing him. He wanted to know what the NSB had gleaned about the Air Force officer. Wanted to stop the evil he believed that man was doing.
He sat back down on his bed and wondered what that meant. Surely with the information he’d sent it wouldn’t be that hard to identify the man. How many Air Force colonels had access to the Foreign Affairs building?
Since sending the message, he’d discarded any notion that he might be mistaken about the colonel. The flyers he’d taken off of the man he’d killed in Jiufen—the same ones the colonel had passed around the table—told him that.
Apparently the Snow Leopard was paying people—students—to conduct massive protests, just like what was happening in Hong Kong, only this time instead of a spontaneous uprising protesting the PRC, it would be funded by them. Something that would cause a debilitating police response and follow-on ensuing chaos where the law enforcement personnel were the enemy. Something so great it would reverberate throughout the country, creating a seam for the PRC to exploit.
The flyer hadn’t dictated a timeline. It simply said there would be a “trigger,” and when they saw it, they were to take to the streets “just like the brave people of Hong Kong.”
He knew if he’d interdicted that one instruction in a backwater like Jiufen, there were many others. Meetings and cash exchanging hands all over Taiwan in preparation for a massive response. The PRC was infiltrating at the root level, and the implications made him sweat.
Paul didn’t know what exactly the trigger would be, but the information was so explosive it was something Charlie Chan should see, because there was most definitely a traitor in the mix. Someone who was doing much more than just buying Facebook posts like his student asset who had been killed. Someone who was planning actual violence. The traitor was going kinetic, and Charlie Chan needed to identify him.
He reread the flyer, then turned back to his computer to analyze the data, trying to make a connection on his own. His generic homepage blared a headline: “NSB chief dead.”
Incredulous, he read the headline again, not wanting to believe it, then pulled up the news article. It was true. Someone had killed Charlie Chan.
He had no idea if this had something to do with his current tasking, or if it was something else entirely, but one thing was for sure: Whether intentional or not, it had effectively cut him off from all support. He now had no contact inside the NSB.
He had been portrayed as an outcast, ostensibly thrown to the wolves because of “incompetence,” with Charlie Chan leveraging that to allow him freedom of action. And now he had none.
He looked at the flyer again, feeling rage. It was the mole, he was sure. The same one who had set up his student asset at the falls. The same one that Charlie had been worried about, causing him to send Paul into the wilderness, now forever known as a Ronin to everyone at the National Security Bureau.
But unlike Chan, he was still alive. And he had a target.
He began planning for surveillance of the unknown Air Force colonel, mapping his house location and the Foreign Affairs building, seeking vengeance for the death of his mentor.
Becoming a Ronin for real.
Chapter 54
Han entered the twelve-story technology building in Beijing’s Zhongguancun district, wading through the crowd of engineers, each convinced they were the next sure thing in the world of technology. All of them showing absolute disdain for the Communist Party of China in this new entrepreneurial wave. It disgusted him, but he took some private consolation in that every bit of the technology they worked on would only help the PRC obtain dominance, both inside and outside of the country.
He showed his badge at the counter and took the elevator to the second floor, passing through yet another security gate, but this one much more stringent, because it was the entrance to the Twelfth Bureau’s laboratory.
Yuan met him in the lobby, saying, “You have a call on the secure line. I don’t know how they knew you’d be here, but they’re calling.”
Han said, “I told them I’d be here. Who is it?”
“They didn’t say. Just that they wanted to talk to you.”
He nodded and followed Yuan down a hallway, stopping at a small closet with a digital phone affixed to the wall, the keypad replaced by a screen showing Chinese characters. He entered, closed the door, and picked up the receiver, saying, “This is Lion.”
“This is the Tiger element. We are on the way to Cairns as instructed. There have been some issues.”
Han closed his eyes and said, “What?”
“We interdicted the American. He is dead. There will be no leak from that end. Bobcat is secure and I’m headed to his location now, but there was a problem.”
“What problem?”
“The team that interdicted the American was attacked. We don’t know by whom, but it was total. They eliminated everyone in our safe house and killed two more men at the interdiction site for the leak. Someone is hunting us, and they are very, very good.”
“Better than you?”
“No. They let one of my men go. They should have killed him outright at the interdiction site, but didn’t. If they had, I wouldn’t have any of this information. They are not immune from mistakes, but they remain a threat.”
“How do you know Bobcat is secure? Do they know where he is?”
“No. No way. He’s been gone for a day. If he was the target, they wouldn’t have wasted so much time on the American. If I were to guess, they were solely focused on Clifford Delmonty. Now that he’s gone, they’ll leave. I don’t think this had anything to do with Bobcat.”
“And yet they had a team that could kill all of your men? Nobody does that without government backing. And no government does that backing without significant fear of something else. A government doesn’t care about the individual. They care about the state.”
“In our world. Not in theirs. I think this was a coincidence of us falling into an old Army friend of Clifford’s. They ended up having skill that we didn’t account for, to include a woman as deadly as Zhi Rhou, but I believe they’re done. Their mission was Clifford, and he’s dead now.”
“I need to know we are contained. The next phase of this is critical. I cannot have them interfering.”
“We are contained. I promise. I’m on a train headed to Cairns. Bobcat is in Cairns. I have already made contact with him. I just need to know what you want me to do with him. Take the device and dispose of him? Bring him with me? What?”
“Bring him with the device. I don’t want to kill him only to find out we don’t know how to use the data. This is too critical to try to figure out what he has. He knows. Can you get him out through nontraditional means?”
