Faith looked at the text message. In the Quill Bar, it read. They were heading up 16th Street. The Jefferson Hotel was up ahead on the left. She would be ten minutes late. He deserved it.
She messaged the officer in charge of her meet with Gong Dao. He’d replied with a thumbs up. It was going to be a busy afternoon.
A minute later, the Chevy pulled around and stopped in front of the hotel. Two red and gray taxis waited outside. A closed sign stood outside the hotel, but the taxis showed that it was still serving residents, most likely people who were staying there when the virus first passed through the city.
The French Beaux-Arts style to the hotel appealed to the monied Europeans who stayed there, but not to Faith. It was all a bit fake to her. She walked in under the iron and glass entry canopy into the white and pale-blue decorated reception hall with its black and white checkerboard marble floor. She walked straight across and into the Quill Bar.
Tension in her gut tugged at her. She knew this had to be done but was not looking forward to it.
She saw Senator Harmforth as soon as she entered the bar. He was nursing what looked like a double bourbon on the rocks. He stood as she approached and gave her a wide smile. He wasn’t wearing a mask. She was.
“Sit down, honey,” he said. “It sure is great to see you. I got a room upstairs too.” He raised his eyebrows. “You sure you need that mask? I ain’t got it.”
Every part of her was wound up now, waiting for his reaction, looking forward so much to giving him what he amply deserved. “Senator, this is not what you think.” She stopped, watched as his face slowly changed, as he took in the very different look on her face, her tone and what it most likely meant.
He blinked, twice. “What’s up?” he said. He’d dropped the honey.
“It’s over. We’re over,” she said. “I thought you deserved better than a text, but please, do not try to persuade me otherwise. It’s over.”
His face looked like a balloon being deflated.
“Hold on now,” he said. “You can’t just throw me away like that. I was planning to introduce you to my family this weekend.”
She shook her head. Her heart pounded. She was looking forward to getting this over with. “You’ve been saying that for the last two months,” she said. She spoke slowly now. “It’s over, say goodbye nicely. That’s all we’ve got to do now.”
His expression had paled at first, but now his cheeks were getting red. The tension in the air was almost visible.
“Fuck you,” he said, softly. “I was going to ditch you anyway. I don’t need your skinny ass. Go to hell, Faith Gordon.”
A waiter in a white shirt had stopped nearby, stared, and almost ran away, as he picked up the vibes.
Faith leaned toward the senator. “You should go back to Oregon. Don’t say you weren’t warned.”
His mouth opened as he tried to take in the implications of what Faith had just said. He was struggling, trying to work out what she meant.
His mouth twitched.
A cold shiver ran down her back. Was this the moment he’d go crazy?
“Goodbye,” she said. She stepped back. “No hard feelings?” She took another step back, her gaze still on him.
His mouth opened, then closed. “You bitch,” he said, icily. “Have you been planning this all along? Have you been playing me with all your questions about the Chinese?”
Faith turned and walked toward the door.
“Bitch,” she heard again from behind her. She had a strong urge to go back and either slap his ugly face or punch him.
But she had another appointment to go to. An important appointment. The reason she’d asked the senator to meet her here. She headed for the resident’s library. Her phone buzzed as she walked. It was a message from the agent in charge.
Where are you?
On my way, she replied.
She looked at the auto audio-recording app on her phone and pressed on the last recording link. She held the phone to her ear. The app had recorded everything, perfectly.
She’d stepped over the line with the senator, but both of them had a lot to lose and the pay-off, the information about what the White House was planning, had helped her a lot. The career risk had been worth it. So far.
None of this would matter, of course, if the next meeting went well. Every previous indiscretion she’d ever made would be forgotten.
She found the restrooms, adjusted her blouse, pushed a few stray hairs behind an ear. It was time.
76
New Jersey, June 6th, 2020
Washington Memorial Hospital in Camden, New Jersey, ninety miles from New York City, deals with both military and civilian patients. The facility had been designated a Coronavirus treatment center. It had been dealing with a steady flow of Coronavirus patients since March 2020.
The secure military section of the hospital provides high security patient beds for military prisoners, high-ranking officers, and other special cases requiring sophisticated medical care.
Wang Hu was in the high-security section at the back of the building. Access was by monitored door entry and a thorough staff screening system.
It was two-thirty in the afternoon. The senior State Department staffer in charge of the interrogation was finished for the day. Her plan was to question Wang for about ninety minutes each morning to allow time for his recovery.
The senior nurse in charge of the ward was on a break. Details of rosters were available on the secure online hospital staff rota system. Her assistant was with a patient. The two other nurses for the ward were constantly busy.
The Military Police officers at the locked door to the ward checked the nurse’s pass before she pushed her hospital drugs trolley through the door.
“You’re early,” said the young black officer. He looked at her directly, comparing the picture on her laminated ID pass with her face.
The Asian-looking nurse smiled at him and bowed slightly.
The young man let her through. She went straight to Wang Hu’s room, knocked on the door, waited a few seconds, and then pushed in. He was sleeping. A drip ran from his arm. She took the syringe lying in the steel tray on her trolley, opened the access port in the primary tubing, and emptied the contents of the syringe into the tubing, then closed the port again.
Not even a puncture wound would be visible.
As she pushed her trolley through the door, she looked back. His eyelids were moving. He was dreaming.
77
Washington DC, June 6th, 2020
Faith entered the library of the Jefferson Hotel and looked around. There was nobody in the room. She was a few minutes late. Had Gong Dao gone already? The room was lined with bookshelves filled with leather-bound books. Glass cases held special editions and Jefferson memorabilia.
Small mahogany tables and sets of deep-cushioned leather chairs allowed for intimate meetings or quiet reading. The only noise was a faint hum from the air conditioning.
Faith sat in a seat in the corner, with a view of the only door, and near the window overlooking the street outside and the branches of a tree filled with new leaves.
She checked her phone. No message from Gong Dao. Had she blown it?
It was sixteen minutes to three. She was very late.
The door of the room swung open. Gong Dao walked in, her head high. She had on a dark gray suit with a tight skirt that showed her curves. In her hand, she held her smartphone. On her face, she wore a gray face mask.
Faith wasn’t wearing one. It wasn’t required in the hotel or by the State Department, though some people wore them voluntarily.
Gong Dao looked around, then came toward Faith. She stopped about six feet away. She gave Faith a nod and then started talking fast in Mandarin.
“We finally meet,” she said. “I hope you aren’t disappointed that your senator friend has been playing the field.” She didn’t wait for Faith to reply but went on.
“Can we sit away from the window,” she asked. She pointed at a ta
ble in the corner of the room. Faith moved to it.
As they sat, Gong Dao said. “I must tell you I have no expectations regarding the senator. None at all.” She let out a small laugh, shrugged. “There are so many opportunities for women like us, no?” She waited a few seconds this time for Faith to reply, but when she didn’t, she started talking again.
“You would do well working for our embassy as a part-time liaison person. Would you consider it?” She looked around, wide-eyed, as if looking for a camera. “Our embassy pays very well, and we don’t ask for any secrets, just for you to tell us your views on our policies.” She put her head to the side “It’s very like being on a consumer research panel. Would that interest you?” She crossed her legs. “We so need bright people, you see. Too many old-timers. Did I tell you the pay is very good?”
“Yes,” said Faith. “You told me, twice, but I’m more interested in why you fell out with your friend, a Mr. Wang Hu.” Faith paused.
Gong Dao breathed in.
“Have you ever had a man obsessed with you?” she asked, leaning forward.
Faith made a “maybe” gesture with her hands going wide.
“I am sure you know it is a terrible thing. You have stalking laws here in the United States, but in China, the best thing to do, for the man’s sake, is to give them no illusions.”
“You know he’s in hospital?” said Faith.
“Yes, yes, you are so kind to look after him after that terrible incident in the service area.”
“Do you have any idea why someone from your embassy would try to kill him?”
Gong Dao shook her head. “He was an obsessive.” She leaned toward Faith, dropped her voice. “I think he overstepped some personal relationship. That is all.”
“It’s nice to see you are so concerned about him,” said Faith. Her phone buzzed. She looked at the text message. Wang Hu found dead, it read. Her eyebrow twitched. She pressed her lips together.
“Bad news?” asked Gong Dao.
Faith opened her mouth, closed it, looked at her phone, then at Gong Dao. The moment lengthened.
“I am sorry. Mr. Wang Hu has been found dead,” she said. She stared at Gong Dao, looking for a reaction.
“So sad,” said Gong Dao, her tone going high. But her expression did not change. She might have been talking about a distant relative being ill.
“Yes, it is. Please give our condolences to his family,” said Faith.
Gong Dao looked at her as if she wanted to move the conversation on.
“You don’t seem very surprised,” said Faith.
“Do not use death, to bring death to life. That is what Confucius said.” Gong Dao bowed.
“There’s something else I want to talk to you about,” said Faith.
Gong Dao looked at her nails. Her red nail polish was perfect.
“We have evidence that someone at your embassy has been making payments to a political campaign in Oregon. Such payments would be an illegal interference in the affairs of the United States.” Faith tapped at her phone. She turned it to Gong Dao.
“You are the person who met with several individuals here in Washington, people who traveled from Oregon. These pictures show the meetings.” She flicked through a few pictures, paused. Gong Dao peered down at the screen.
“My question is, were these meetings approved by your government?”
Gong Dao looked toward the door.
“Please don’t try to leave. There are State Department agents outside the door.”
“I have nothing more to say to you,” said Gong Dao, icily. “You cannot stop me leaving.” She stood up.
78
Washington DC, June 6th, 2020
Rob took a sip from the plastic bottle of water he’d been given for his lunch. He’d been allowed to go to the toilet, but when he came back to the interview room, he was shackled from a chain attached to the cuffs around his feet to a metal ring in the floor, and from his handcuffs to a metal ring on the table.
He’d been alone for what seemed like hours. Then the same two FBI interrogators came back into the room.
“When can I call a lawyer?” he asked.
The older FBI man said, “The head of a federal agency may request from the President a temporary exemption from the right to have an attorney present, when such an exemption is determined to be in the interest of national security.”
“You’re joking,” said Rob.
“No, I am not. And it will be a lot easier for you, McNeil, if you admit to cooperating with the Russians and provide full disclosure at this time, to help us with our ongoing investigations into matters of national security.”
The woman leaned toward him. “We will tell the judge that you cooperated. Your sentence will be greatly reduced if you do cooperate now.”
“I did nothing wrong,” said Rob, his voice rising.
She shook her head. “We have pictures of you talking with a Russian agent in a park near where you were staying here in DC, McNeil, and we have audio recordings of those meetings.” She pointed at him. “We obtained a federal warrant for these recordings, so they will be admissible, and you can be clearly heard agreeing to help the Russians in the recordings. We will use these recordings in court.”
Rob let out a frustrated groan. “I agreed to help them to try to get my wife released. I didn’t do anything for them,” said Rob. “I did nothing wrong.”
The agent looked at her phone, scrolled down a page. “Did you request a delay in a vaccine production schedule?”
He groaned again. “That was a suggestion to improve the effectiveness of a vaccine I developed.”
“Which would delay that vaccine,” said the woman. “And which you submitted at the request of your Russian handler.”
Rob didn’t reply. The sinking feeling inside him had just gone a few miles deeper.
“This is an open and shut case, McNeil,” said the male agent. “Why don’t you come clean and cooperate?”
“I am. I was trying to get my wife released by the Russians,” said Rob, slowly now, emphasizing each word. “Nothing I did produced any results for them.”
The two agents looked at each other.
“It looks like you got what you expected from the Russians, McNeil. We saw someone claiming to be your wife on Fox News this morning. She was appealing for you to be released.”
Rob’s mouth opened. He could feel the blood draining from his face. She’d been released. He’d been right to string Vladimir along. But why had he decided to release Jackie now?
Or was this all another trick?
“Are you sure that person is my wife?”
“This is her, yes?” said the male agent, holding a large screen smartphone toward him.
Rob squinted, leaned to the phone. A still image from a TV news program filled the screen. A hole opened up inside him, sucking all hope in.
“That’s not my wife,” he said, angrily.
He stuck his chin out. The bastard had been tricking him all along. They’d probably tipped off the FBI too. And now he was in prison and couldn’t help TOTALVACS. The Russians must think they’d won.
He pointed at the screen.
“You should arrest this woman and find out how the Russians tricked me,” he said. He breathed in deeply. “I don’t regret any of it,” he said. “I had to take any chance to save her and I’d do it again.”
The female agent shook her head, slowly. “That interview was provided to the TV station in a video file. We have no idea where this woman is. We already checked that out.” She leaned forward. “You’re lying now, aren’t you? There’s more to this.”
Rob let out an indignant gasp. “What are you talking about?”
“What else have you been doing for the Russians?” said the man.
79
Washington DC, June 6th, 2020
Faith pointed at Gong Dao’s chair. “Sit back down and listen to what I have to say.”
Gong Dao stayed on her feet.
“
I am going to give you another option,” said Faith.
Gong Dao’s expression became a sneer. “I won’t betray the motherland,” she said.
“Did you know you’re going straight to prison camp when you get back to Beijing?” said Faith. “Have you ever received an urgent summons to return?” She kept her expression hard, matching Gong Dao’s.
Gong Dao shook her head, quickly. Her eyes blazed defiance.
“Well, you’ll get one soon, after we tell them about the rogue operation you’ve been running without permission for a secret society. Your Chanel suits and handbags aren’t going to be much use to you in a freezing forced labor camp.”
“You don’t scare me,” said Gong Dao.
“They will disown you. We’ve seen it. You must have too. And they’ll denounce you at your high-speed trial. I don’t expect they’ll even name the yellow dragons. That would acknowledge their existence. A simple corruption trial covers a lot of sins in China.”
“That’s ridiculous. My government will not believe you.”
“They will if we send them some proof.”
“You have no proof,” Gong Dao scoffed.
“Sorry; your good friend Wang Hu explained how the both of you were working for the yellow dragon society. He said it will be easy to verify your meetings together and his meetings with the society in New York and Beijing.”
“I’m not part of whatever he was up to.”
“You want to risk it?”
“Yes,” she said vehemently.
“We have more evidence too. Do you think your ambassador will support you after we show him Senator Harmforth’s testimony against you?” It was a step further than what they had on Gong Dao now, but they could get it. Faith was sure of that.
“Harmforth has already claimed he was involved with you to get evidence against your mother country, to prove your role in spreading the virus. He did the right thing for America. He also claims you shared a lot of useful information with him.”
Gong Dao’s mouth was moving, as if she wanted to spit something out.
Her phone buzzed. She looked at the screen.
The Conspiracy II Page 20
