by Bobby Akart
“He is very real, Harper. And he’s a great American patriot. This gentleman has willingly allowed our government to erase all of these accomplishments so he can fight the war against deadly diseases before they hit our soil. He is one of two people on this Earth with whom I’d trust your life, and the other gentleman doesn’t have the medical background Kwon has.”
Harper looked toward the ceiling and leaned back in her chair with her arms folded. She turned to Kwon. “I have one more question.”
He nodded.
“Do you ever smile?”
She got nothing in response.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Darpa
Arlington, Virginia
Harper, Joe and Kwon continued their conversation for another hour as she explained to her new partner what she hoped to accomplish in China. They then left for a medical laboratory, where they were injected with microchips developed by DARPA. They would be tracked by the technology teams located within this facility as well as by the CIA stationed at the American embassy in Beijing.
Over the course of the afternoon, Kwon loosened up somewhat. He was still not open to playful banter and jokes. Harper surmised he never would be. She was interested in breaking through his tough shell to determine if he’d always been this way or if something had occurred in his life that caused him to become so closed off. In the end, it didn’t matter to her because he would serve a twofold purpose—bodyguard and well-trained physician.
“Follow me, please,” said Kwon as he led them through a door marked Secured Access. Using an eye retina scanner, he unlocked the door, and then once inside, he explained to a guard the purpose of his guests accompanying him. He turned to Harper.
“One of the challenges we’ll face throughout China is their extensive, sophisticated facial-recognition technology. Because you’ll be assuming the identity of Dr. Blasingame, our AI team has created a few methods to confuse their surveillance. This way.”
Joe looked at Harper and smiled. He leaned in to whisper, “Whadya think about Kwon?”
“Very impressive, but his personality is a far cry from Becker’s.”
“You need this kind of balance in your life.”
“I still think he’s a robot,” said Harper.
Kwon led them into a room full of glass-enclosed cubicles, each of which was occupied by DARPA personnel wearing white lab coats.
“I’m told by the CIA liaison that they’ll be manipulating the commonly used Chinese apps like AliPay and WeChat, together with what we call the blue-green app. We’ll talk more about that once we arrive at the embassy.”
He turned into one of the cubicles, where the technician turned to address him. “Hello, Dr. Li. You’re all set.” He handed Kwon a ziplock-style plastic bag. He opened it and pulled out several surgical masks. Two were dark blue and two were light blue. He handed one of each to Harper before turning to the technician.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
The technician made several entries on a keyboard, and then the screen changed to reflect the view from a camera that was attached to an extra-long USB cable stretched under his desk. He picked up the camera and pointed at Harper’s face.
The software immediately recognized her. A split screen appeared with her face appearing on one side and her biographical details—such as age, height, weight, address, and job—appearing on the other half.
“These are the types of things facial-recognition software feeds into any airport security system, for example,” began the technician. “Now, Dr. Randolph, please put on the light blue face mask.”
Harper obliged and turned toward the camera. The screen immediately changed, and the face of Dr. Blasingame and her biographical data appeared. Harper’s eyes grew wide.
“Wow! It’s my doppelganger.”
“Excuse me?” said the technician, somewhat confused by the reference.
“Never mind. How does it do that?”
“Within the light blue mask are fine electronic threads that emit a signal to fool the cameras. You will be able to pass through security checkpoints and fly under the radar, if you will, across Mainland China. The cameras will see you as Dr. Blasingame.”
“Amazing,” said Harper.
“Now, if you will, change to the dark blue mask,” the technician requested.
Harper changed masks and the tech took her image again. This time, her actual face appeared on the screen, but her biographical information was completely different.
“Maria Randolph. How did you—?” She began to ask how the technician was aware of her ancestor’s name and the pronunciation as Mariah. He answered the question for her.
“Miss Maria was the person who renovated your familial home, was she not?”
“Yes, but you even pronounced her name as Mariah. How did you know that?”
“It’s our job, Dr. Randolph. When we work with the agency to create covert dossiers, we ascertain everything we can about the individual. Then we mix in mostly fact with just enough fiction so they can avoid their true identity from being discovered while giving them some truth about their lives to divulge and still not get confused.”
“I’m impressed. So this mask enables me to be me, sort of. How do I know when to use them?”
“Light blue when you’re concerned with eyes in the sky, dark blue when you’re face-to-face with the darkness of your adversary.”
Kwon explained, “During our travels, we will be asked to provide identification by actual human beings who will compare them to the database. The dark blue mask will be consistent with our reason for traveling to China.”
“Which is?”
The tech responded, “English language instructors contracted by boarding schools spread across the country. ESLs are in high demand, and the boarding schools are the perfect cover. Their agreements with ESLs are typically informal. Further, they’re scattered throughout the countryside, giving you a reason to travel by car almost anywhere you choose.”
“Brilliant,” said Joe.
Kwon thanked the technician and then escorted Harper and Joe outside the room. “One thing I forgot to mention is that the CIA contacts at the embassy will provide us with HyperFace. It’s an extension of the agency’s earlier work with CV Dazzle.”
“Please explain,” said Harper.
“CV Dazzle is makeup, for lack of a better term, that targets the facial area to alter the image seen by the cameras. In essence, it distracts the computer algorithms long enough for you to avoid detection.
“HyperFace is different. It targets the surrounding area as well as the face. Like camouflage where the objective is to reduce the confidence score of the true face by redirecting more attention to regions near the face. It generates a false-face detection that is rejected by the algos.”
“Good grief, Kwon. Is this the kind of stuff they taught you at MIT?”
“Yes.”
Harper looked at Joe. “I see why you picked him.”
Kwon added, “HyperFace also serves to disrupt the detection of suspicious body language. Today, through the use of AI technology, a surveillance system can identify a shoplifter, a liquor store robber, or an untrained individual engaging in espionage.”
“Like me,” added Harper.
“Newton’s Third Law of Motion is very much in play as it relates to today’s technology,” said Kwon. “For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. For every advancement in surveillance, there are countermeasures to take advantage of weaknesses in the program.”
After another hour in which Kwon introduced them to imaginary, inventive gear that at first glance seemed ordinary, but which possessed extraordinary personal defense capabilities, he left the two of them alone in the conference room where they began their day.
Joe closed the door and reached his hands out to take Harper’s. He drew her close to him and hugged her. “How do you feel?”
“Like I’ll be in very good hands. This was way more complicated than I imagined. I th
ought I was going to run around chasing down leads like I did during the MERS outbreak in Greece and Syria. I really didn’t think about the fact they track every movement of every human being.”
“That’s okay,” Joe reassured her. “We have specialists for that. Brilliant people like Kwon, who is also a very capable operative. Nobody should cross him to try to get to you. Ya can take that to the bank.”
“I believe you. Truthfully, I wasn’t sure this would work. He’s pretty scary, but it wasn’t just that. I need somebody to bounce ideas off of. You know, a second set of eyes. I believe Kwon is more than capable. Heck, with his background, I may be able to learn a few things from him.”
Joe sighed and kissed his wife. They embraced without saying a word for nearly a minute. Then he asked the question that was on both of their minds. “Is this absolutely necessary?”
Harper grimaced and nodded her head. “It is. Joe, we’re absolutely nowhere, and thanks to your friend the president, we’re on the clock. A normal, methodical investigation has turned into a race against time by the actions of the governor working on behalf of President Taylor. Plus, the Chinese are less cooperative now than they were during the COVID-19 pandemic. They learned how to avoid scrutiny during that time.”
Joe was angry over the president’s actions, and it served no purpose to bring it up to Harper. She felt responsible for what had happened in Las Vegas. He wanted his last few moments with his wife to be positive, and he’d deal with the politics of the matter later.
“I love you and I trust that you’ll be safe and not take any risks. I’ll worry, of course, but I’m not gonna wring my hands while you’re gone.”
Harper smiled and hugged him again. “I have to put my game face on while I’m in China. If I’m emotional or scared, I’ll make a mistake. Of all places, that could be dangerous. I think you’ve done all you can by picking Kwon to escort me. In fact, I think he’s perfect under the circumstances. Thank you.”
The two kissed again, and less than two hours later, Harper and Kwon were wheels up on a military transport to Joint Base Pearl Harbor, where they would catch a commercial flight aboard Hawaiian Air to Beijing in the heart of the Red Dragon.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Office of Congressman Joe Mills
Longworth House Office Building
Washington, DC
It was after dark by the time Joe parked his car in the secured parking lot at the Longworth House Office Building and made his way to his darkened office that doubled as his residence while he was in town. He was tired, but not from physical exhaustion.
He’d made the mistake of listening to satellite radio on his drive from DARPA. DC pundits, talking heads, and commentators of all sorts were weighing in on the quarantine of Las Vegas and the perceived inaction of the CDC. The negative news surrounding the Nevada governor’s actions weren’t focused on his decision, or even the connection to the president. It was almost uniformly directed at Harper and the CDC. And now toward him by extension.
The president’s political machine was cruel, calculating, and extensive. His operatives used every method in the dirty politics playbook, from ridiculing their opponents to misinformation campaigns and their use of the media to push negative narrative so often that it eventually became accepted fact.
Both he and Harper were targets. The administration seemed laser focused on taking him down before he even got started. While he listened to the barrage of attacks on the radio, he considered speaking with Andy Spangler or his campaign manager about distancing himself from Herbert Brittain and his wealthy circle of donors. He tried to consider what was best for Harper. He thought the best course of action was to make it known throughout Washington that he didn’t have any aspirations for higher office. He was just fine being the congressman from Georgia’s sixth. Leave me be and I’ll be content chairing committees.
Then his blood began to boil. Joe was a fighter, just like his dad. Being conciliatory was one thing. Allowing his family to be bullied was another. If he backed down, he’d never forgive himself for not defending Harper’s honor.
“Dammit!” he shouted to his empty office as he poured himself a drink. “She’s gonna risk her life to save other people’s lives!”
The least he could do, he surmised, was fight back against his political enemies. Joe had resources, too. They might not be into doxing or willing to throw Molotov cocktails through campaign office windows, but they were rich and powerful.
He would not fight his adversaries through fear. That wasn’t his nature. He’d do it through messaging. It was the honorable way to govern a country. It required taking the high road, something that seemed to have been lost in politics of late, but it was necessary to stop the rancor.
Joe set his jaw and finished off his straight whiskey. He picked up the phone and placed a call to Ken McCarthy, his campaign manager. McCarthy answered the phone on the first ring.
“Hey, Joe.” The two men had been friends since law school. Ken and his girlfriend used to tailgate at Washington Redskins games with Joe and Harper.
“Ken, get ’em on the phone. Tell them I’m all in.”
“Wait. Are you sure?”
“Damn straight. A hundred percent.”
After a moment in which McCarthy soaked in Joe’s directive, he said, “Okay, here we go.”
Yeah. Here we go.
Part III
Find the Truth
Laud China’s actions. Admire China’s responsibility. Thank China’s assistance.
~ Publicity Department of the Central Committee of the Communist Party of China
March 25, 2020
Chapter Twenty-Nine
U.S. Embassy Complex
Chaoyang District
Beijing, China
Harper and Kwon were picked up at Beijing Capital International Airport after a fourteen-hour flight from Honolulu. The city was beset by a heavy rain, which suited the travelers just fine. The normal security scrutiny that followed American passengers all the way to the time they left the airport was lax due to the distraction.
A foreign service officer working in the public diplomacy sector of the U.S. Embassy in Beijing was their escort. She provided them some basic information about the city and directed their attention to some points of historical interest.
Neither Harper nor Kwon were interested in idle conversation. The long trip from the East Coast to the Hawaiian Islands and on to Beijing was tiring. It had been a great opportunity for the two to establish a rapport with one another. By the time the jet touched down on the runway, they had their game faces on and were prepared for the arduous task at hand.
They approached the embassy complex. The main buildings were barely noticeable in the center of the perimeter security wall and fencing. At one entrance, despite the inclement conditions, a long line stretched down the block and around the corner of the wall.
The driver noticed Harper’s interest in the long line. “Visas are in high demand right now. Reports are beginning to surface of another viral outbreak in the western part of the country. The Chinese people are used to the threats of disease, but since the Wuhan outbreak, they tend to want to leave the country at the first sign of trouble.”
“Are there signs of trouble?” asked Harper. “In the media, I mean.”
The young woman laughed. “It’s impossible to know what is real and what isn’t, here. Some of the career embassy personnel recall the days when the Wuhan outbreak occurred. There were a few reports here and there. The next thing we know, we were absorbing all of the staff from the U.S. Consulate General in Wuhan. Chengdu and Guangzhou, also.”
“Was that our decision or Beijing’s?” asked Harper.
“From what I’ve heard, they didn’t say anything to us. Our people in the consulate building noticed one morning that the streets were empty. They said it was surreal. A city of ten million people became a ghost town overnight. Our people evacuated, and the next thing you know, the pandemic was on the move.”
She parked the car and led the two of them through a covered entrance into the security area. There was a short line, as everyone entering the building was heavily scrutinized with the latest technology. It was far beyond what was required to enter the CDC and more invasive than used at U.S. airports.
After they cleared security, their escort led them to a conference room adjacent to a library that contained both fiction and nonfiction books, together with treatises on international law. One section contained all the current issues of American magazines and even some comic books.
“This way, please,” she said politely, gesturing for them to enter the room. “This kitchenette contains snacks and drinks. Nonalcoholic, of course. May I get you something?”
Harper and Kwon both declined. They wandered around the windowless room, opting to stretch their legs after the long flight. Their escort took a seat at the end of the conference table and sat with a smile on her face. Harper glanced at Kwon and furrowed her brow. She expected to be greeted by someone, she just didn’t know who.
“Um, is someone coming to meet with us?”
“Yes, they’re aware of your arrival.”
“Okay,” said Harper hesitantly. She was anxious to get started and was slightly aggravated at the delay. She sat in one of the chairs and studied her escort. “Are you CIA?”
The woman laughed and replied, “Oh, my heavens. No. There is no one from the CIA here, Dr. Randolph. We’re all career foreign service workers in the diplomacy sector. Mostly, we deal with visa applications.”
Harper smirked. “All of you?”
“That’s correct. It’s a very meaningful job, you know. Once, I helped an elderly man whose wife had passed away on a plane to procure her ashes while still in Beijing. It was a touching moment. Don’t get me wrong, living and working in a foreign nation like China takes a fairly big toll on one’s personal life. There are days that are long and grueling. Often, you hope for a change of pace. Thankfully, I was chosen to escort you to the embassy.”
