by Bobby Akart
Ying became distraught. “And go to jail? Or disappear? I cannot live without you, husband!”
Fangyu stepped in to calm her fears. “Aunt, I can help him speak his truth without putting him at risk. He will not speak ill of the president or even the Party. Am I right, Uncle?”
“That is correct. I simply cannot be silent any longer. As you say, I must speak my truth.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Beijing Capital Airport
Security Checkpoint
China Southern Flight 6912
Beijing, China
Their foreign-services agent turned CIA escort drove them to Beijing Capital Airport. Neither Harper nor Kwon were interested in making idle conversation with the CIA agent. It had just turned dark as she wheeled the sedan onto the 3rd Ring Road, which led them to terminal 2. Their China Southern flight, the last nonstop departure of the day to Urumqi, departed in two hours.
Harper’s mind wandered to Joe as they approached the passenger drop-off zone at terminal 2. It was eight in the morning in DC. He’d likely showered and was hanging out in his office. She wanted so badly to speak with him. Even a text message would have calmed her nerves. Harper was not doubting her decision. She convinced herself it was natural to be nervous considering the position she’d put herself in.
“Just to confirm, you are on CZ 6912 to Urumqi. Departure time is 10:08. I’m sorry, but it’s agency protocol to book passengers in economy class. The China Southern Boeing 737s are part of an older fleet, so they are a little roomier.”
“That’s good,” said Kwon. “We both need it.” It was a rare commentary and hint at humor by the intense DARPA operative. Kwon was six feet three inches tall and Harper was close to five feet ten. The tall Americans would stand out in a crowd of Chinese nationals, who, on average, stood five feet five inches for men and five feet one for women.
They exited the car and grabbed the duffle bags provided by the CIA. Each of them had hidden pockets sewn in to hide the Blackberry SIM cards from prying X-ray machines. They also had external Velcro enclosures for Harper to switch face masks quickly depending on the situation. While traveling, she would be using her dark blue mask, which would reflect her CIA-generated cover as an American English teacher.
As for Kwon, there was no record of his existence in any spy agency worldwide, or Interpol-type database. For each of his missions, he could become whomever DARPA or the CIA needed him to become.
They held ticketed boarding passes printed through a local travel agent frequented by the American embassy. To avoid undue scrutiny by security, they traveled with just carry-ons, enabling them to avoid the ticket counter line. With some time to spare before they made their way to the gate, they followed the instructions of the CIA personnel to approach security as late in the evening as possible.
Harper and Kwon decided to wander the airport before they made their way through the final security checkpoint. Something caught Harper’s eye and she tugged at Kwon’s arm. She made an immediate beeline for a corridor that led away from security.
She passed by the airport lounge, which was full of a variety of travelers of all nationalities. They were chatting and drinking, pulling down their masks in between sips. The aromatic scents of food filled their nostrils as they walked past the bar.
While the food options included a variety of Chinese cuisines and teahouses, a quick way to gain an appreciation of the local culture, there were also Western standbys like McDonald’s, Kentucky Fried Chicken, and Harper’s favorite—Starbucks.
Kwon checked his watch. He was not as impulsive as Harper and believed in a structured approach. Harper noticed his hesitancy.
“Come on, it’ll make us look like normal travelers. Spies don’t walk around with caramel lattes in their hands, do they?”
Kwon furrowed his brow and then tilted his head. He saw her point. While Harper ordered her beloved latte with extra caramel and extra foam, Kwon downed a bottle of water and searched their surroundings. He resisted the urge to glance at the multiple security cameras that were affixed to the walls at just above eye level. A passenger’s searching eyes obsessed with security cameras was an immediate mark for those monitoring them.
“Heaven on Earth,” said Harper as she took a drink and sighed. She glanced around and spied the duty-free shop. “Hey, let’s see what they have.”
Once again, she darted off from Kwon, who found himself slicing through a group of people approaching the Starbucks counter to catch up. Harper was perusing the souvenir shop when he joined her.
He leaned in to whisper to her, “When we’re on the ground in Urumqi, please don’t run off from me like that.”
“I looked before I leapt. Besides, I’m just trying to see if you can keep up.”
“You don’t need to test me.”
Harper was smiling as she spoke. “I’m not. But you can trust me. I’m not a twit and I can play the game. Besides, to be honest, I’m a little nervous, and acting normal helps me bury all of that deep inside.”
Kwon nodded and dutifully followed her around the shops as if they were a couple. After half an hour of browsing, she purchased a netizen tee shirt. In Chinese pop culture, the term netizen appeared often. It’s a blending of the words internet and citizen. Netizen described someone who was actively involved in online communities. Harper was on the hunt for a man who was relying heavily upon an underground network of citizen journalists. She would use any advantage she could to get people to open up to her about his whereabouts.
With Harper having undertaken a little retail therapy, and with the soothing familiarity of the Starbucks caramel latte nestled in her belly, she was ready to approach the security checkpoint, which was far more stringent than U.S. airports.
The Transportation Safety Administration, or TSA, was looking for travelers who might try to commandeer or destroy an aircraft. Basically, terrorists. The security personnel of the China Civil Aviation Administration were not only looking for dangerous substances or domestic terrorist activity, but they were also searching for dissidents, foreign spies, and anyone else who seemed to be pursuing a nefarious purpose.
The line was still fairly long considering the late hour, but Harper immediately noticed the demeanor of the security personnel. They appeared tired and somewhat lethargic. In her mind, the group of four handling her lane was simply going through the motions until their shift ended.
Just as was the case in American airports, passengers were quizzed about electronic products, lighters or matches, and liquid articles. Signs indicating that weapons and explosives were prohibited were scattered about. Harper chuckled to herself and thought, Who in their right mind would try to smuggle a gun through airport security in Communist China?
The two of them were half a dozen passengers away from entering the scanning equipment when suddenly four new, fresh security agents arrived to replace the existing crew. Unlike the heavyset, uninspiring bunch who had worked this checkpoint moments earlier, the new group appeared hardened and intense. Well, like a quartet of Kwons.
Harper immediately became nervous. Her anxiety levels shot up and her palms became sweaty. She tried to remain calm, controlling her breathing the best she could. Kwon noticed her change in posture. She was no longer relaxed and confident. She slouched somewhat in an effort to crawl into her shell.
This was not good.
“Breathe,” Kwon whispered in her ear. “I will answer all questions unless they direct them specifically to you in English.”
Harper kept her eyes forward and whispered back, “They’re spending more time with each passenger. They’re scrutinizing their documents, too. Before, they were just walking through the screening machine.”
They were almost to the front of the line. Two of the screeners began to assess Harper and Kwon. They leaned into one another and nodded toward her. Harper took a deep breath and exhaled, forcing the front of her mask away from her face like a balloon expanding. She reached up and adjusted it to let in some fresh
air, as she suddenly felt claustrophobic.
Kwon uncharacteristically made physical contact with her. He reached for her hand and squeezed it. She made eye contact with him. His piercing dark eyes looked deep into her soul, imploring her to relax. Harper didn’t want to disappoint him. She was trying not to derail their mission before it even started.
First Kwon and then Harper passed through the scanner. There were no alarms sounded, as they had packed all of their belongings in their luggage. The person manning the luggage scanner took an inordinate amount of time studying their duffle bags. Then Harper’s heart jumped in her throat.
“You, step aside for special screening,” ordered one of the security agents in Chinese.
Kwon gently took Harper by the arm and pulled her aside. She nervously followed his lead and then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw their bags pushed forward along the conveyer belt. However, the security personnel held up the rest of the passengers while they focused on Harper and Kwon.
Two of them now stood face-to-face with the Americans. They were giving orders to Kwon in Chinese, and as he received them, he told Harper to do as he instructed. Another security guard appeared and took their bags off the conveyer belt and set them on a stainless-steel table. He began to rifle through their belongings.
“Papers! Papers!” the security agent demanded.
Kwon responded politely and pointed toward their duffle bags.
They waved the electromagnetic wands in search of any metal hidden in their clothing. The Chinese had also developed the ability to identify traces of gases emitted by explosives residue.
Harper began to sweat. Her palms were sweaty. Her breathing had become more rapid. Keep it together, she told herself. All eyes of the three security personnel were on her now. One of them had her documents in his hand. He handed them to the other guard, who held them up to compare Harper’s face with the passport.
The lead guard reached for a portable radio nestled in his utility belt. Harper closed her eyes for a moment, as she presumed their true identities had been discovered. And then alarms began to sound.
From the far end of the security checkpoint, the high shrill beeping and flashing lights indicating a breach in the secured area was causing the passengers standing in line to cover their ears. Other security guards began shouting and waving their arms as the alarms screamed throughout the concourse.
The guards scrutinizing Harper’s documents shoved them into her bag. The trio ran toward the alarms and lights, as did several other security personnel.
Kwon forcefully grabbed Harper by the arm. “Let’s go. They can only help us so long.”
“Who?” she asked, turning around to look for an answer on her own.
“Probably the agency. The timing was too perfect. Hurry!”
They walked quickly toward their bags, stuffed everything spread out on the table inside, and slung the straps over their shoulders. They separated, with Kwon hanging back while Harper walked briskly up the concourse until she reached the long moving walkway.
I can do this.
Harper kicked herself in the pants. After there were a dozen people between her and anyone who might have been trailing her, she rested her bag on the moving handrail to retrieve a light jacket from her luggage. She quickly slipped it on. Then she whipped her hair into a ponytail, pulled out a solid white Ralph Lauren Polo cap, and placed it on her head with the ponytail pushed through the back clasp. Finally, she changed her mask from dark blue to light blue.
This was a risk, but a calculated one. At this point, she presumed all security personnel were concerned with the breach at the checkpoint, but the eyes in the sky, as she called them, were still monitoring passenger movement. Until she reached the gate, she’d change identities. Then, at boarding time, she’d switch back.
All of these crafty maneuvers might have been unnecessary, but to Harper, she felt the need to do something. In the moment, it changed her level of confidence. She was no longer an out-of-place epidemiologist. She was playing the part of an undercover detective in search of a killer. Most importantly, she believed in herself.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Underground Great Wall
Urumqi, Xinjiang, China
Fangyu had just created the final post to social media. He’d already sent a detailed email to several news media outlets that were at least receptive to publishing dissenting opinions that ran against the official statements of state-run media. He also blasted it to hospitals and doctors’ offices throughout the two westernmost autonomous regions of China.
After a day of searching for their financial benefactor, many of the students and citizen journalists had returned to the karez disheartened. Most were hungry and needed rest. Fangyu thought they needed a reason to lift their spirits.
They were in an intense information war with the Communist Party. The battle would not be won with bullets or bombs. It would be won by the dissemination of ideas and suppressed information. He approached his uncle and asked him to read his open letter aloud.
After gathering everyone around the center of the karez, Dr. Zeng picked up the paper with his handwritten statement. He began by reading the title aloud.
“Why I must disturb the sound of silence.
“My name is Dr. Zeng Qi. I was formerly a physician and professor at First Affiliated Hospital in Urumqi. With this post, I am suppressing my apprehension and fearfulness. I am speaking because others must remain silent. My words are whispered, but they will be shouted by many. And when they are, I fully expect that I, and even my family, will face harsh punishments from those who stifle dissent. Yet I may no longer stay silent.
“For many decades, China has been the origin of viral disease outbreaks that, when not contained, can be transmitted around the globe. A decade ago, a novel virus, labeled COVID-19, began as an outbreak in Wuhan and soon spread to nearly every nation.
“Physicians like myself knew it was highly likely a disease of its kind would arise. We warned our government of this fact, and we were ignored. When it happened, the Party instinctively organized a cover-up, ordering the police to crack down on physicians who were accused of improperly trying to alert others of the risks. Party news programs repeatedly denounced us as rumormongers and condemned us for hating our country. This, of course, was not true.
“Now we face a similar catastrophe. There is a new disease. It’s one that is so unique, so novel, that it is nearly impossible to define it. Until now, it is a virus that has outsmarted me and others who’ve tried to identify it. Let me explain.
“It cripples the body’s immune system in a manner similar to HIV/AIDs, attaching to white blood cells. This, in turn, triggers a cytokine storm just as we witnessed during the avian influenza outbreak. Like H5N1, this new disease results in uncontrolled inflammatory cytokines, which target the human respiratory system and then other internal organs, leading to sudden failure.
“Then comes death. I have never seen nor studied any infectious disease like this one. It is, quite simply, the perfect killer. Without further study, I cannot name a test kit used in our medical community that would be deemed accurate. I cannot propose a single treatment protocol that would be more effective than educated guesswork. I cannot even point to a specific manner of death to guard against.
“As the disease engulfs the patient, severe lung infection results in inflammation, which causes systemic sepsis. In other patients, the cytokine storms result in severe infections of the gastrointestinal tract, the urinary tract, and the central nervous system. Heart failure is likely if other vital organs don’t fail first.
“We are in the early stages of an outbreak that rivals that of COVID-19. I am issuing a call to all physicians and health care professionals to make preparations. But, most of all, protect yourselves.
“I implore you, please do not disregard this warning or you will lose your lives. Stand up to the pressure that will come to bear when my words break the silence. I will stand with you for as long as
I am allowed to stand.”
When Dr. Zeng finished reading, he dropped his chin to his chest. He was emotionally drained. He could hear the young people around the karez openly crying. They comforted one another and whispered words of praise for his statement.
Then a single clap came from the group. Followed by another. And another. Soon, amidst the tears and sniffles, everyone in the Underground Great Wall was standing, cheering and applauding their inspirational leader.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Ministry of State Security
Beijing, China
Unlike the CIA or Great Britain’s MI6, China’s Ministry of State Security didn’t have an official website. There was never a spokesman made available to the press. There were no publicly listed contacts or organizational charts. Its building was not open to the public, nor was it accessible by most governmental officials.
Intelligence agencies were secretive by nature, but China’s MSS seemed to operate under a heavier veil of secrecy than most. Formed in 1983 as China’s main civilian intelligence agency, it was responsible for counterintelligence, foreign intelligence, national security espionage and domestic surveillance as well. Many considered the agency to be a cross between the CIA and FBI.
Like other ministries under the Communist-controlled State Council, the equivalent of China’s cabinet, the MSS had a vast network of provincial and municipal branches across the country.
Their powers were broad and unchecked. The MSS was authorized to conduct various types of espionage activities both in China and overseas. Their duties included investigating foreign and domestic individuals, and they frequently engaged in intelligence activities against foreign governments.
