by Andrew Watts
“Tits up?”
“Colorful. But yes, exactly.”
Chase said, “So let’s say she buys it. We get the lookalike agent to Lena, she hears what he has to say and transmits it back to China. How does that help us?”
David said, “General Schwartz has been working with an assault team on Hawaii. The whole point of this operation is to give them the best chance possible of defeating the Chinese fleet.”
“An assault team? As in guys with guns? I may not have had much sea time, but I was still in the Navy long enough to know that’s not how you win a sea battle. How the hell is an assault team going to take down the Chinese fleet?”
David’s face was stern. “That information is compartmentalized from this op. We don’t need to discuss it here.”
Chase shot him a look.
His brother shrugged. “Sorry.”
Chase could see that something was bothering Susan. “What is it?”
Susan said, “The Chinese fleet is moving faster than expected. They’re only another few days from Hawaii. And they’ll be in range of Johnston Atoll within twenty-four hours.”
“Will we be ready?”
“I don’t know. But Luntz knows about our defense plans. We believe that’s the exact information Lena Chou is attempting to get. Control of the Pacific depends on this one decisive battle.”
Chase saw something else was bothering his brother. “What aren’t you telling me?”
David looked at the floor.
Susan said, “Your sister, Victoria, is leading the mission to attack the Chinese.”
Chase’s mouth dropped open, the air gone from his lungs.
Susan said, “We’ll do a few dry runs with all of the players tonight.”
Chase, regaining his composure, said, “When is the meeting with Lena supposed to be?”
“A few hours from now.”
34
Lena Chou was driven by one of the South Sword soldiers. They rode in a sedan, traveling through winding mountain roads near the border of Maryland and Pennsylvania.
They parked in the underground garage of an apartment complex. The troops wore American winter clothing, their weapons hidden under the jackets. And they were never in teams of more than three.
Once in the apartment, Lena met with the old Chinese man who maintained the safe house. It was owned by one of his LLCs, and he was the only one who ever went there. He had been living in America for many years. He owned two car washes in the county. The MSS paid him in cash, and he laundered the money through those businesses. He wouldn’t have had a business if not for that extra influx of cash. Times had been tough, and his English wasn’t so good. He owed everything to his Chinese benefactors and was loyal to his birth country.
The man’s children had all been put through college with those funds, and one of his sons ran the business now. Lately, the old Chinese man spent more of his time reading on his phone in the parks and public spaces within driving distance of the Raven Rock Mountain Complex.
Lena knew that it was too risky to have the old man meet with their agent. He wasn’t trained for it. But he had taken many pictures of the potential meeting locations and observed the patterns of life. It was these descriptions that he passed on to Lena now.
When she was done listening, she went into the guest bedroom. Three of the soldiers were in there, including Lieutenant Ping, their commander.
“I have selected my location. I will need you to transmit the meeting time and place in one hour.”
“Just give us the coded transmission, Miss Chou, and we will send the communication.”
An hour later, the transmission was sent. As soon as it was, Lena said, “Tell your men to be ready to move. And give me the keys to your vehicle.”
“Do you want us to go with you?”
“No. I will go alone.”
She could tell he disapproved, but the young officer remained obediently quiet. She liked him, she realized. He reminded her of someone else. Chase Manning. A man she wished she had met in a different life.
“Have your men waiting in their vehicles. If our agent is compromised, I will signal you, and you will need to move quickly. But if that occurs, make sure you send at least one of your men back here to transmit what happened.”
“And if things go well?”
“If the meeting goes smoothly, I will return within the hour and send the transmission myself. No one can leave this apartment before that happens, lest they give away the location of our transmitter.”
“I understand.”
Lena nodded approvingly. A few miles away, two teams of three were parked in a crowded Walmart parking lot, their presence hidden by tinted windows. A few miles in the other direction, more teams waited in two other safe houses. Remote cabins in heavily wooded areas. At their lieutenant’s signal, they would converge on a dozen different locations within minutes, ready for combat. But for operational security, she had kept the exact location to herself, until now.
“I have set the meeting location at checkpoint four.”
Lieutenant Ping nodded. “Good luck.”
She drove out of the garage and down the street. She passed a police cruiser on her journey, which made her feel more secure. If the Americans knew where she was going, they would likely have kept local police away. Or if the true professionals were handling it, they wouldn’t have said a word.
She parked her car on the town’s quaint-looking main street and began walking along the sidewalk. She kept her cotton winter hat snug over her head, and a maroon scarf tight around her neck. A tight-fitting down winter jacket kept her warm. She spent twenty minutes conducting her surveillance detection route. An infinitesimally short period, but she didn’t have the luxury of time.
For the first time in quite a while, Lena Chou felt nervous. Preparation had always been one of her strengths. Over the years, her importance to Jinshan had given her the ability to say no to operations that could get her caught by the FBI’s counterintelligence division. It was her duty to say no. So meticulous planning had to be done before Lena was brought in.
But now all cards had to be played. Even she was expendable today.
Only two restaurants were still open, and they both looked almost empty. One had an outdoor seating area, covered with a black tarp. An outdoor heating lamp in the corner of the space. Lena walked into the restaurant and a chime alerted the hostess. She requested the seat in the far corner of the outdoor space. From there she would be able to see everyone coming and going from the street. She could hop the three-foot-tall wrought-iron fence around the sitting area and make it to the alley around the corner in under five seconds. The alleyway opened into several egress options.
Lena sat down. The waitress brought her a water.
“I’d offer you a lemon, but we don’t carry them anymore, what with the war and all.”
“It’s no problem at all,” replied Lena. Polite, but not overly so. She didn’t want to make conversation.
“The menu’s limited too. I’m sorry. We’ve crossed out everything we don’t have. Some people wonder why we’re still open. But the owner keeps paying us. So we keep showing up. You know how it is.” The waitress’s voice was distant.
“I’ll wait to order. I’m meeting someone. Thank you.”
The waitress seemed to notice the way Lena looked for the first time. Asian. The waitress’s eyes narrowed slightly. She frowned and left Lena to herself.
A few miles away, the mole drove out of the gate at the recently reestablished military base at Fort Ritchie, Maryland. He drove into town and parked in a drugstore parking lot one mile from the restaurant where Lena sat waiting, although his followers weren’t aware of where she was.
Chase sat in the rear of a government-owned undercover vehicle, a Honda Odyssey, along with two CIA special operations group men. Behind their van was another, which held the FBI team.
“Luntz is on foot,” came the voice in Chase’s earpiece. “Headed north, into town.” T
he CIA and FBI counterintel folks were working hand-in-hand on this. Each had brought in a very small team, and they were working surprisingly well together. But this was the high-stakes moment. Game time.
“We have eyes on her yet?”
“Negative.”
“Van One, start canvassing the town.”
“On the go.” Chase’s vehicle accelerated down the street, turning through the town. Everyone’s eyes looking through the tinted windows. Two more civilian vehicles were doing the same thing. The routes had been preplanned to cover every possible meeting location and still ensure that the vehicles didn’t hit any of the spots more than once. Now they had to figure out which one she was at.
Then Chase saw her, sitting at a restaurant patio, winter clothing on.
Heart beating through his chest, a surge of adrenaline hitting him. Her eyes were dark, and alluring.
He said, “Got her. Restaurant number two. Corner table.” Their van continued on casually down the street, then turned and made their way back behind the FBI’s minivan.
In the FBI’s minivan sat a special agent of similar build and facial features to Luntz. The lookalike. The doppelganger who would swap places with Luntz and go to meet with Lena. He was an immensely talented officer of the CIA’s clandestine services, and one that Susan made sure Lena had never met. The man had been studying everything about Luntz, interviewing his handler for hours on end. Practicing exactly what to say and how to say it to Lena, when the meet took place.
The operations team had even identified Luntz’s exact clothing and ordered a matching outfit. Now that they had Lena’s location, they could bag him and send in their lookalike.
“What color jacket is Luntz wearing?” asked the lookalike from the back seat. “The gray one or the beige?”
“The beige.”
The lookalike swore and reached into a bag to switch jackets. The agent had guessed wrong. “He usually wears the gray.”
“Who cares about the jacket? Just pick one.”
There were a million things that could still go wrong.
Chase’s pulse kicked it up another notch.
“Okay, let’s take him,” came the voice of the FBI SAC in the now-lead van. The vans began driving through the streets.
“Local police vehicle just pulled up near him.”
Chase looked at the other operatives in his van. They shrugged as they readied their weapons.
Luntz walked at a steady pace, keeping his scan going as he made his way towards the meeting spot, just like his handler had trained him to do. It was a cold day, and very few people were outside.
A police cruiser parked along the curb twenty yards ahead of him. The cruiser’s lights weren’t on, and only one officer got out. No one else was in the vehicle. The policeman seemed more interested in a vacant car that was parked in a metered spot.
Luntz was well trained for a recruited agent. He kept his cool, not wanting to do anything to draw attention to himself. The policeman didn’t appear to be a threat, so he kept walking.
It wasn’t until he was a few feet away that the man wearing the police uniform turned towards him.
“Excuse me, sir, you live around here? You don’t know whose vehicle this is, do you?”
Luntz slowed slightly but kept walking. “Sure don’t.”
The sound of vehicles speeding down the street alerted both men, and Luntz jerked his neck in their direction, away from the cop.
The two vans peeled right and came to an abrupt stop on either side of the police cruiser, locking both men in. The side and passenger doors from the vans opened, and a total of six men wearing black tactical gear leapt onto the curb, their weapons drawn. The addition of the police cruiser made for an awkward takedown, adding a few more steps than the team would have liked.
Their weapons trained on Luntz, the FBI agents all yelled some version of “FBI, show us your hands!” The lookalike Luntz stood behind them, wearing the same clothes.
Chase saw Luntz’s eyes go wide.
The local cop took out his weapon, holding it aimed towards the ground, trying to figure out what was going on. The dynamic was dangerous and unplanned. Six armed men approaching. The local police officer was standing right next to the mole, giving Luntz an extra few seconds to appraise the situation. Luntz moved a step closer to the cop.
Chase noticed that Luntz’s eyes remained fixed on his doppelganger.
“Officer, please holster your weapon and step aside.”
The police officer didn’t holster his weapon but did change his posture so that it was aimed towards Luntz.
“Hands, please!”
Luntz’s face reminded Chase of a suicide bomber he had witnessed in Iraq. A man who knew he was near his end.
“Watch him! Watch him!”
The FBI men stepped closer, their firearms still trained on Luntz. They had been instructed to refrain from discharging their weapons, lest any gunfire alert Lena Chou.
Luntz seemed to sense their apprehension. His hands never went up. They remained in his coat pocket.
Which popped in a puff of cloth and smoke.
A single muffled gunshot rang out, and the FBI agents dove on Luntz, wrestling him into submission.
“Oh shit, are you alright?” The local cop was looking towards the FBI minivan. “Hey, this guy is hurt…”
Chase turned to see the lookalike agent now on the ground, leaning back on the rear tire and whimpering. At first Chase couldn’t see what was wrong. Then the agent frantically clutched at his neck. From between his fingers, dark crimson blood spewed forth in spurts, covering his beige jacket.
Lena checked her watch. Five minutes overdue. She hadn’t worked with this man Luntz before, but his tardiness, combined with the sound she’d heard a few minutes ago, put her on the edge of her limit. On any other assignment, she would have been gone, she told herself. She opened her purse to check the radio transmitter she was using to signal the South Sword Team.
When she’d heard the noise, she’d reminded herself that she was in the countryside. It might have been a hunter, shooting a deer on his property. It wasn’t like her to be optimistic. But the need for this information was so great, she had to give him every chance.
But if Luntz had been killed or captured, was waiting here another few minutes worth anything? With each passing second, the probability that Lena’s life—no, not her life, her capacity to fight for Jinshan—was in jeopardy.
Footsteps on the sidewalk behind her. She craned her neck to see a man in a hooded sweatshirt headed her way. He was alone. Six feet tall, a lean, athletic build. Hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt. Wearing sunglasses, his gaze toward the ground. He carried himself with a military swagger.
It almost reminded her of Chase Manning…
A hollow feeling formed in the pit of her stomach. The queasiness was returning. What the hell was wrong with her? She never felt this way.
Sitting inside the fence of the restaurant’s outdoor patio, she was separated from the man, but turned away so that he wouldn’t see her face. She looked at him in the reflection of her water glass, ready to move if he turned towards her. He kept walking past her and then…opened the door of the restaurant. The door chime going off again. The waitress smiling and pointing towards the patio.
Lena placed her hand in her coat pocket, feeling the cold metal of her pistol grip. They wouldn’t do it this way, she told herself. They would send a team. This was something different.
Chase Manning removed his hood and looked her in the eye.
“May I join you?”
Her mind raced through a dozen scenarios. None of them had a desirable ending.
Her pulse racing, she said, “Be my guest.”
Chase sat down at the table. His face was stone, but his eyes were filled with emotion.
“How long do we have?” she asked.
Chase just shrugged. “Are you going to run?”
“Why just you?”
“Because I didn�
�t want anyone to hurt you. And if we did it any other way, they would have.”
Did that mean that he cared for her? After everything she had said and done? She silently admonished herself. Of course he didn’t. He couldn’t possibly love a monster.
She noticed that they both kept one hand hidden from view. There. That was her proof. He would shoot her if he had to. Only to protect himself. Only if there was no other way, said the look in his eyes.
“What’s the plan?” she said.
“You agree to come with me quietly, without signaling your men.”
“You know I can’t agree to that. And you’ll eventually kill them.”
“You could order them to surrender.”
“You know better, Chase.” Lena gave a soft smile. “You wouldn’t obey that order. Neither would they.”
Chase smiled. “Maybe.”
She held her chin up. “This must be pretty important for you to go to all this trouble.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Don’t you? You don’t know what information I came to get?”
“No.”
“Hawaii? Johnston Atoll? Your country is developing a counter to our Jiaolong-class ship’s new technology. Tell me, is it ready? That’s all I want to know.”
“Lena, put your gun on the table.”
A minivan pulled up to the curb down the street. Then another, right behind it.
“Looks like your team is getting nervous. Don’t they have faith in you?”
Lena heard the chime of her cell phone. Cellular service was not available in the US yet, but this phone had been specially calibrated by the MSS. The receiver had finished uploading all of the data from Luntz’s transmitter. She smiled, realizing that he must have been in one of the minivans. They probably didn’t even realize that they had just delivered to her what she had come to take. Luntz was never going to sit down and speak with her. He would just walk by, and his transmitter would do the rest. She just needed to read his face to make sure he wasn’t under duress. But this was going to have to do.
