I waited, breath almost held. “And they were...what? Executed?”
He shook his head slowly. “Worse.”
How the hell could it get worse than that? I wondered.
I didn't wonder long.
“Remember the woman who came to me at the hospital prison? An? Who...seduced me?” Jian asked. “They had others like her. Loyal agents. If the dissident – the meta that refused to be 're-educated' and loyalized – which did happen – if they were...powerful enough. I watched the same display that An staged to 'save me' from the hospital play out in the camp. These women would leave with him, for somewhere else.” He swallowed heavily. “I heard later what they did, from a guard who got away, defected. We ran across each other through mutual contacts when he fled to California.”
My eyes widened.
“It was a breeding program,” Jian said. “They would act like An, and seduce the man, if they could. Retain the...” He shuddered. “...The genetic material. Produce...children.”
I felt a near full-body spasm. “That's...terrible.”
“It was worse even than that,” Jian said, and his face seemed suddenly shrouded in darkness. “If the subject was female...or didn't cooperate.” Now his mien became stone, anger seething behind his eyes. “They would take what they wanted surgically, extracting...whatever they had...and make as many children with loyal surrogates as the People's Republic wanted.”
CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE
“What the hell do I do with this information?” I wondered aloud, still stinging from Jian's last revelation. The possibilities for what the Chinese were up to were endless, but logical: kidnap these people with potentially valuable powers locked in their genetic code, loyalize them...
...Or harvest them for reproductive materials and have the child raised by the state. Loyalty just about guaranteed.
“There are many people missing now,” Jian said. “Not just around DC.”
“I know,” I said, thinking of Michelle's warnings. “They've got to have grabbed...hundreds of people. Too many.”
“But they have to get them back to China,” Jian said, voice rising with urgency. “This doesn't work unless they do. That's the key point of their plans. Once these people reach China, they disappear forever behind the fortress walls of the People's Republic.”
I looked up, staring at my ceiling, hoping for further inspiration. “Then we have to get them before then, which leads to rough possibilities – either wherever they're being held now, like that shipping container in the Port of Baltimore we recovered, or else as they're moved.” I walked through it mentally. “Which has to be either by plane or by ship.”
“Or submarine,” Jian said.
“That's iffy,” I said. “They can't dock a submarine at the Port of Los Angeles. And they'd need one specially modified to carry people, even in shitty conditions like that cargo container. I think subs are out.”
Jian nodded. “The shipping container, though...that's preferred for smuggling people. It's how I came over.”
“Holy shit,” I breathed. “But would they really do that, after throwing us the bone of the container in the Port of Baltimore?”
“Think about it,” Jian said. “Customs and Border Protection wasn't all over your find. Because it's not uncommon. There's no need for China to get creative here. Smuggling people in that way is the perfect cover, because it happens normally. Why break the mold to do something that might not work when you have something that does, and has, for years?”
“Then they're smuggling these people out of major US ports,” I said. “Like Baltimore. And our Customs people are...what? Missing them?”
“Yes,” Jian said. “Or are bribed to miss them.”
I felt a pang again, in my head, and the same question came back to me: “What the hell am I supposed to do with this?”
As if in answer to my question, there came a knocking at my apartment door, and Jian and I stared at each other like we were caught, eyes locked, panicked, on each other.
CHAPTER EIGHTY-FOUR
Chapman
The worst thing about the Network in Chapman's estimation was the hours. These East Coast people had no respect for those operating on the West Coast. Couldn't they keep their bullshit to Pacific Daylight Time? The answer was apparently no, as reflected by the Escapade app squealing out at him at zero dark thirty.
“What time is it on the East Coast?” Chapman asked, fumbling for his phone. He looked around; Gwen was already gone. Figured. She was an early riser, and didn't seem much into the idea of sticking around after...well, after. He knew those days himself, though, as a CEO burning the candle at both ends. Show up way before your first employee, stay into the night until everyone else was heading home. In a way, he missed that crunch time feeling.
Unlocking his phone with a quick keying in of his passcode, because Chapman didn't trust facial recognition or fingerprint scans, he looked at the scroll already starting on his screen.
BILSON: Nice segment talking me up for National Security Advisor last night, Chris.
Was this what he got up for? If so, Chapman was going to barf in his own mouth. All this stupid flexing.
BYRD: Thx! I hear potus himself was listening. u deserve it after this kidnapping bizness. Scary times. We need a cool head at NatSec. This China thing cud get out of control if some1's not sitting in that seat with clear eyes about the bizness.
Chapman stared at that response. What the hell did Byrd even mean? Was he just tired or was Byrd as much a blockhead as he'd always suspected?
Well, there were no points for remaining in the dark so Chapman tapped out the question on his mind.
CHAPMAN: What's so tough about the current situation? Maybe China did this thing, maybe they didn't, but it looks to me like they're pretty much just grabbing their own nationals back. And there's no evidence. So who cares?
CHALKE: It's not a good look for China if they get implicated. The public has feelings about foreign countries operating kidnapping rings on American soil for some reason. They get kind of uppity about it, like it's part of our job to prevent that sort of thing.
Chapman rolled his eyes. He could hear Chalke's sarcasm like she'd spoken it straight to him. His impatience got the better of him.
CHAPMAN: Honestly, who gives a fuck what the people want? Not me. I run a company for my investors, okay? Not for the sheep in the pen, waiting to get sheared. And we run this country for the people who actually have the brains to understand what's going on. I don't give a flying crap if Joe Ordinary in BFE, Oklahoma, is pissed about a kidnapping ring in DC that will never touch anyone he knows. What the hell does he know? Nothing, that's what. Meanwhile, everything he buys at Walmart is made in China, which means if we escalate to a trade war, Joe's bullshit fishing rods go up 100% in price and Joe ends up whining about how his lures are costing him an arm and a leg. Because Joe's an idiot who has no idea how things work. So screw Joe. We'll keep his stupid fishing lures cheap, and all he has to do is sit down and shut up and let us take care of his stupid ass.
Jaime was seeing some red by the time he got done typing. But that didn't cover the whole thing, did it? He went on, of course.
CHAPMAN: And another thing about these idiots in the mob we call a country. In addition to being dumb, they eat out of the palm of our hands. What's the point of having Chris and Morris and Dave in this group if we're not writing the narrative that best suits our agenda? The public only gets mad about shit they're told. Downplay this crap and they'll save their rage for some other stupid story, like Kim Kardashian getting an ass reduction or something. That's all it takes. These people are pigs in a trough, we're the farmers, and we need to feed them an organic diet instead of letting someone else give them the slop that we don't want them to have. So let's shape the effing narrative and stop worrying about what anyone thinks. I've got the algorithms to make this happen, to drop some of this stupid shit off the grid, to shift the Overton window past any thoughts of war with China, trade or o
therwise. Who's with me?
He settled back, still seething at his screen. Huang's betrayal had done a number on him, but he wasn't so burnt he'd suddenly decided pouring gasoline on this China thing was a good idea. Besides, maybe this Huang business would still work out. If the man lived up to the original arrangement and got him into China, forgiving the bullshit he pulled with Lineage would be easily done. Because it was such penny-ante crap.
BILSON: I'm not sure I agree with you on this. Not that I'm advocating war with China, at least not the conventional kind, but if they're kidnapping people on our soil...there should be some sort of response. Sanctions, something.
Chapman rolled his eyes. Dumb. When had Bilson gotten struck by a case of the stupids?
CHAPMAN: Seriously...who gives a shit? We're talking billions of dollars in trade with China. Why would you endanger that over them grabbing people who look to be mostly their own citizens anyway? Right? Am I right on that, Chalke?
CHALKE: Yes. They're mostly citizens of China, or asylum seekers.
KORY: Wait, so these people are refugees?
CHALKE: Not necessarily. The ones we recovered last night were almost entirely Chinese citizens with green cards in the US ranging from work visas (H-1B, H-2B) and student visas to some with asylum claims (religious persecution, etc.) mixed in.
CHAPMAN: See? They're pretty much just Chinese citizens. Who knows what they actually did in order to get the Chinese government after them? This looks like an internal matter, and it bothers me to the tune of none if they get dragged back home. Why would we get involved in that?
BILSON: Why would you get involved if your neighbor starts beating his wife in your living room?
Asshole. Chapman's vision went red. That was dirty, and it sent him into a rage immediately.
CHAPMAN: Not the same at all.
BILSON: Yes it is. How long are we going to sit back and pretend China doesn't run actual concentration camps? How long are we going to turn a blind eye to their constant abuse of human rights? And why? So we can feel good about getting our microprocessors for thirty percent cheaper than if they were made somewhere else that's a little less cruel to their own people? I'm not asking for miracles, but maybe we do business with countries that don't have legit concentration camps for their own citizens. With countries that don't organ-harvest their dissidents. It's a low bar, but I think we can clear it.
CHAPMAN: This is one of the largest countries in the world, and you want to scuttle our trade with them over this bullshit? Wreck our economy, wreck theirs?
CHALKE: I don't think any of us wants that. Let's just take a step back.
BILSON: I didn't say that, but this behavior they've engaged in ought to be beyond the pale. We should at least have the moral courage to say, “Not here. Not on our soil.” We don't have to invade them, or sponsor a rebellion, we just have to say, “Not here. Not now. Not ever.”
Chapman just shook his head. Where was this coming from?
CHAPMAN: “Moral courage?” Are you kidding with this shit?
He stopped, laughing out loud. Seriously?
CHAPMAN: I think you've been hanging around with that so-called superhero for a little too long. She's warping your brain with her stupid ideas. Cutting off diplomatic and trade relations with China now would be a direct provocation and do nothing to aid these people you supposedly care about, other than make their quality of life worse as you crash the Chinese economy (and ours). If you want to change China for the better, we need to keep trade open and modernize them/liberalize them that way.
“Let me get Socialite in there and watch things change,” Chapman muttered. “Let me get FindIt in China and you'll see more change than you ever would by cutting the economic legs from beneath their ruling class now.”
BILSON: We've tried that for almost fifty years. Hasn't worked. In fact, judging by this, China's only getting bolder and more willing to show their true face. They went from a “Hide your strength, bide your time,” mantra under Deng Xiaoping to flexing for the world to see and not bothering to admit they're doing it. We do what we've done before, we get the same thing – more defiance, more ugliness. It's time for a change.
BYRD: This isn't clear-eyed. We need 2 b patient.
KORY: I like the idea of drama as much as anyone, but I'm pretty on board with not having an actual war with China.
JOHANNSEN: Agreed. The nukes almost hitting the homeland last year was plenty close enough for me for this lifetime. Like Dave said, I enjoy the drama and the clicks from the headlines, but there's an edge I don't want to fall over. This is it.
BILSON: It doesn't have to be war or nothing, guys. There's a middle ground where we call China on their bullshit without engaging in total war. (Which they don't want, either.) But someone needs to stand up to them and say, “This is enough.” And now is the time.
CHALKE: Not sure I'm comfortable with a National Security Advisor that's this confrontational. Starting to wonder if Nealon is affecting your thinking.
Chapman smiled as he watched the consensus form. “How do you like that, Bilson, you little bitch?”
FLANAGAN: Agree with the others. Brinksmanship with nukes is a fad best left in the eighties. Our agenda is mostly toast if Gondry loses re-election and there's no quicker path to that than getting in any kind of a scuffle with China. I'm cool with the rage-clicks from our news brothers, but would rather not see things get out of control. This talk sounds like a big step in that direction, Russ. I'm not for it.
BILSON: Your purview is the courts, Flanagan. Chapman's is tech, Chalke's is law enforcement. The news guys = obvious. My background is Washington politics, and I'm telling you, you're all being short sighted here. If Gondry takes a hit because he looks weak on China, re-election is not happening. So...poof to the agenda then, too.
CHAPMAN: Seriously, guys...I'm all in on making this China business disappear. I know you can't steer the ship from your three respective publications, but you can influence the direction, and I can mess with the algorithms to downrank anything negative on China in the search engine or even get flagged as a hoax story and banned from appearing on Socialite. Back when Inquest was the biggest search engine on the scene, I couldn't do that, but now...
Jaime smiled.
CHAPMAN: We can totally do it. I have 75% of the search engine traffic on any given day and growing. I have the largest two social networks and can influence opinion in my peer set.
KORY: My reporters are in Slack channels with their peers. We could put feelers out, see if we get any pushback. That'd tell you which sites were going to write anti-China articles.
CHAPMAN: And I can downrank them until they stop that bullshit. Their organic traffic will die overnight, and they'll be crying for a meeting to figure it out.
This was all in his power now. That was the dirty secret of the modern news media; they relied on social networks for their very lifeblood. Without those shares, they'd croak in short order.
JOHANNSEN: If you could give us a little boost, we can do a similar thing. Our reporters are in constant communication with their peer set as well. Downrank the competitors who don't toe the line and they could watch the info stop circulating.
CHAPMAN: Done.
Johannsen had to be smiling on the other end of his screen. This was like Christmas for the media people.
BYRD: I m so in!!! I hav the presidents ear and will def get the msg out u guys
CHAPMAN: Good. We need to be the adults in the room. Be more circumspect than the idiots out there.
Because we're better than them, Chapman didn't type. He knew it, though. Everyone knew it.
CHAPMAN: What do you say, Bilson?
He waited.
Everyone waited.
It took a long minute of creeping uncertainty before he – and everyone else – realized that wherever he was, whatever he was doing...
...Bilson didn't answer.
CHAPTER EIGHTY-FIVE
Sienna
“We need to talk,�
� Bilson said, barging in as I opened my door. He took no notice of the fact I was standing there in a bathrobe with an AR-15 strapped to my back, nor that I was surprised to see him.
“Uh, okay,” I said as he stalked past me, turning my head to follow his path.
He stopped in the middle of the living room and turned, looking around furiously. His eyes alighted on something in the kitchen, and he surged around the corner, disappearing behind the wall that separated my entryway from my kitchen.
“Uh...what are you doing?” I asked. I realized he'd whispered when he came in, something I hadn't noticed at the time given I'd just been having a conversation with Jian – who was still in the bedroom, door closed – at meta-low volumes. Whispers sounded like shouts by comparison to my most recent conversation.
I came around the corner to find Bilson unplugging my phone, holding it out from his body as far as he could, completely lateral so it was facing up toward the ceiling. Keeping it in that odd position, extended from him like it was about to explode, he walked it over to my fridge and opened the door. He cast it onto the (empty) top shelf, then pulled out his own and threw it in there as well before slamming the door shut.
Blinking at him, I started to ask, “What the f–”
He held up a hand urgently to his lips, and spun, scanning the apartment. When his eyes alighted on my laptop, sitting on my kitchen table, he snatched it up and then tossed it into the refrigerator after the phones. Apparently satisfied, he closed it again and looked around once more. “Do you have any other electronics like that? Tablet computer, other phones, wearables...?”
“Uh, no, I'm a luddite, so you've successfully fridged all my electronics.” I stared at him, arms crossed over my fluffy robe. He hadn't even said anything about the AR-15 still slung over my shoulder, and I felt like on a normal night, that would have been the first thing a guy like Bilson would have commented on. Tonight, nada, though, which told me something about his state of mind. “Is there a reason for that, or do you just think my devices needed a time out to cool off?”
Dragon: Out of the Box (The Girl in the Box Book 37) Page 30
