"We just thought he was a killer . . . an embarrassment to the Chinese government, but he was a whole lot more. He should never have been here this long. We should have had a couple of SWAT units guarding him, not a half dozen beat cops. The cops weren't ready for a military assault. The perps were dressed as US Army. The bullet casings are 5.56 mm . . . M-16s or M-4s. The dead perp had body armor. Marshon hit him with a lucky shot in the throat. The guy bled out in seconds," Angelo said, as he sighed again and shook his head.
"Tell me everything or WAPO gets everything I know, including this conversation," Angelo said.
Amanda knew that everything she was about to say was beyond 'Top Secret'. To reveal this information could get her life in a federal prison or worse. She also knew that this man would do exactly what he had threatened to do.
"A nuclear device was found in San Francisco on March 11th. Two more were found near military bases close to Seattle soon after that. The Chinese government tried to blackmail the US into leaving the western Pacific and all of Asia. The President called their bluff and they backed down. We came real close to World War III. We're still tracking down and procuring the nukes they snuck into the country," Amanda said, as a trickle of sweat slid between her shoulder blades.
"Holy shit . . . how many?" Angelo asked, while wondering if he wanted to know the answer.
"We think around 50 . . . more or less. The Chinese government is still investigating," Amanda said.
"I thought you said that it was the Chinese government that was trying to blackmail us," Angelo said.
"They were, but we think it was a rogue general that started the whole plot decades ago. Some general named Kung," Amanda said.
"And our boy worked for him, one of his agents?" Angelo asked.
"That's what we think. We're still working out all the details. We were going to move him to Walter Reed today, but they got to him first. I'm sorry. We had no idea they were going to try something," Amanda said, as Angelo turned and rested his shoulder against the cinder block stairwell.
"We're pulling all the video in the hospital. We're also pulling all video in a two-mile radius. As of right now, we don't know how many, what vehicle, or what direction. Road blocks are up, but they weren't established until after 5AM. We think this happened between 3 and 4AM. They probably came in through the loading dock. We found a custodian stashed in a storage room with his throat cut. Estimated time of death was between 3 and 4. A day shift nurse found the mess up here at 4:30. She couldn't sleep, and decided to come in a little early for turnover," Angelo said, as he opened the door and walked back into the crime scene.
Amanda stared at the closed door, then turned and began walking back down the stairwell. She had a call to make before she went back on the 5th floor.
CHAPTER 7
Inova Alexandria Hospital
4300 Seminary Road
Alexandria, Virginia, USA
April 20, 2017
0915 hours EST
Amanda stood on the sidewalk outside the main entrance to the hospital. Word had gotten out about a second series of murders at the hospital. Trucks from every major network were visible in the parking lot on the other side of North Howard Street. The police had set up barricades to keep the press at a distance, and the press wasn't happy. Several arguments were occurring simultaneously at the barriers. The press wanted access to the hospital and they weren't getting it.
The fog was gone. The clear sky and cool breeze promised a beautiful spring day. Amanda barely noticed. Her cell phone hung loosely in her hand, but she hadn't dialed Director Davidson yet.
"I don't know which was worse, the smell up there or the look on his face," Amanda asked herself, while wiping tears from the corners of her eyes.
"This is going to be bad, really bad," she said, while auto dialing the number of Janet Davidson, her boss, and Director of the CIA Mission Center for Weapons and Counterproliferation.
"Davidson here. So what did you find out?" Janet asked, from her office in Manassas, Virginia.
"Gong Aiguo is gone. He and his friends left behind six dead police, two dead hospital staff, and one of their own. They were dressed as US Army personnel. Alexandria PD is pulling all the video from the hospital and the nearby area," Amanda said, as two black sedans pulled up outside the hospital.
Two men and two women got out. Dark suits, sunglasses . . . Amanda rolled her eyes at the stereotypical look the FBI agents presented.
"The press is all over this, and I think the FBI just rolled in. Things are going to get more complicated," Amanda said.
"You let me worry about that. What else do you have?" Janet asked.
"We have a serious problem, and you're not going to like it," Amanda said.
"You mean a problem other than the press, eight murders and a Chinese agent on the loose?" Janet asked.
"Yes, ma'am," Amanda said, and then winced. Director Davidson was a retired Marine Colonel and despised being referred to as "Ma'am".
"The Alexandria PD detective in charge of the investigation threatened to go to the Washington Post with the story about Gong . . . if I didn't tell him everything that was going on," Amanda said, and paused, waiting for the explosion.
"So how much does he know? Is this the ex-basketball pro that you told me about?" Janet asked.
"Yes, Director. He knew some of the details before, and has figured out a lot more. I trusted his discretion before this, but now things have changed," Amanda said.
"How so?" Janet asked.
"His younger brother was one of the officers who were killed. He was responsible for getting his brother a job as a cop. He feels guilty, and he's pissed. It was my opinion that he would definitely go public," Amanda said.
"Oh crap . . . and so you did what? Please tell me that you didn't tell him everything about the . . . items," Janet said.
"Yes, Director . . . I did. Not every detail, but he has a general idea of what is going on. It was the only thing I could do at the time," Amanda said.
She was surprised at the silence . . . then alarmed at the length of the silence.
"Let the detective know that I am sorry for his loss. Ensure him that he is now an integral part of this investigation . . . on a national level. The murder of his brother, and the other officers, will not go unpunished. But . . . he needs to know that the involvement of the media will complicate the matter and impede the capture and punishment of those involved," Janet said.
"Director, if I can be frank, this man smells bullshit from a mile away. If I tell him that . . . he'll laugh in my face and walk away," Amanda said, knowing that her career was in the balance.
"Then bring him into the fold. Bring him here. He'll become part of our investigation . . . privy to everything. I'll talk to him personally. Then we'll see how tough he is," Janet said.
"I'll try, but I can't guarantee that he'll go along. He may just walk away," Amanda said.
"Well, Agent, I would suggest that you convince him that playing with us gives him the best possibility of finding his brother's murderers. Our resources are somewhat better than the Alexandria Police Department. Take some damn initiative and fix this damn mess that you've created," Janet said, and terminated the call.
Amanda stared at her phone while saying, "Well, that could have been worse. At least I still have a job."
CHAPTER 8
230 Harlless Bridge Road
Little Rock, South Carolina, USA
April 20, 2017
1215 hours EST
"We are almost there, Heng. Take the next exit onto Highway 57. It may be called Radford Boulevard," Jian said, as he wiped his eyes and studied the map on his cell phone.
They had been driving non-stop down Interstate 95 for the last eight hours. The adrenalin from their assault on the hospital, and subsequent escape from the area, had worn off hours ago. Both he and Heng had taken a dose of Modafinil as they left the storage unit in Alexandria.
"Here, this exit. Turn right at the stop sign. Use all
your signals and obey the speed limit. We don't want some local police to pull us over," Jian said, as the truck slowed for the exit ramp.
"Yes, Mǔqīn (mother). I know how to drive. I have been obeying all the traffic laws," Heng said, while smiling at Jian.
Jian knew from training how each of his men reacted to Modafinil. Heng would say things that he would never say when not on the drug. Chonglin would get hyperactive after a day or so. Bingwen, normally very talkative, would become sullen and quiet. Jian knew that he personally, would become tense and short-tempered.
They exited 95 and drove past Jabs Fireworks, painted a bright red and yellow. Dillon Furniture Manufacturing stood on the right.
"Flat farmland with lots of pine trees. This reminds me of home," Heng said, while looking out the side window.
"Pay attention to the road. You're drifting across the center line," Jian yelled, while checking the side mirror for any following cars.
"Lots of farmland, but the fields are empty. I wonder when they plant? And what are these metal homes? I've never seen homes like this," Heng said, while centering the U-Haul in the right lane.
"It is where the poor live. They are called mobile homes. I don't know why. They don't have an engine and they don't seem to move once placed on the ground. This area is part of what the rich elites in this country call 'Fly Over Country'. It means that they just look down on the people that live here," Jian said, remembering his studies of the social strata that existed in the United States.
"Now slow down. The speed limit is 35. Turn right at the next intersection, Harlless Bridge Road. Turn at that building with the brick columns," Jian said, while pointing ahead.
As they made the turn, Jian placed a call on his cell phone.
"Lingli, we will be there in five minutes. Open up the barn so we can drive right in," Jian said, nodded, and turned off the phone.
"The road curves to the right up ahead. Then we cross the Little Pee Dee River," Jian began, then stopped as Heng began laughing.
"Little PD? What is a PD?" Heng asked, while continuing to laugh.
"I don't know. It's just the name of a river. Focus on your driving. We're almost there," Jian said.
"Slow down and take the next right. It will be a dirt road. Drive all the way to the end and pull into the barn. The door should be open," Jian said.
Heng nodded while he continued to laugh and kept saying 'PD' over and over.
They drove through a thick pine and red oak forest for over a quarter mile before they reached the end of the dirt road. Jian could see the one story wood home that he had purchased through a third party. A large barn stood behind the house with a smaller storage building to the left of the barn. The dirt driveway went past the front of the house, then curved to the right and stopped at the barn. The large swinging door was being opened as they drove up.
A woman held open the door. Jian nodded in greeting as the U-Haul drove past and parked inside the barn.
"Greetings, comrade! You are all over the news," Lingli said, and shook Jian's hand as he got out of the truck.
"What do they know?" Are we safe?" Jian asked, while stretching his stiff back.
"The FBI has locked down all official information. There were reports that multiple police officers were killed while guarding a mysterious patient. The media call him 'Patient X'," Lingli said, while waving at Chonglin as he climbed out of the back of the U-Haul.
"We lost Weimin, and Renshu was shot in the hip. He's lost a lot of blood. He's on a saline IV and painkillers. We treated the wound with a clotting agent and an Israeli Bandage. Then we have 'Patient X'," Jian said, as the others began offloading the U-Haul.
"Bring them both in here," Lingli said, while walking to the other side of the barn.
The right side of the barn had been converted into an office at some point in the past. She had converted the room into a patient recovery room complete with two hospital beds and basic monitoring equipment.
"This will do. Excellent work, Lingli. I trust you have been discrete," Jian said, as he walked around the room. It was brightly lit, with white walls. The sealed concrete floor was spotless.
"The medical equipment was bought second hand at a retirement home that was being shut down for abusing the elderly. They had an auction. I paid cash for everything. Everything else was purchased at a Home Depot in Florence. It's a few miles down 95 from where you exited. I always went at night," Lingli said.
"I trust that the other item is still secure?" Jian asked.
"The container is still locked in the other shed. I haven't touched it," Lingli said.
"Good! It will be quite some time before we need it," Jian said, while stepping aside as Renshu was helped into the room.
"Put him in the bed on the left. Then bring 'Patient X' in and transfer him into the other bed," Lingli said, while walking over to a large cabinet on the outside wall.
"Yes Doctor Zhang!" Jian said, while smiling and bowing deeply.
CHAPTER 9
Central Intelligence Agency
Mission Center for Weapons and Counterproliferation
Office of Director Janet Davidson
Manassas, Virginia, USA
April 23, 2017
1045 hours EST
"Detective Morehead, I appreciate you taking the time to come and meet with me," Janet said, while rising from behind her desk, and approaching the two individuals standing just inside the doorway.
"Agent Langford can be real persuasive. But what I want is information. According to her I have to get it from you," Angelo said, while stepping forward and shaking Janet's extended hand.
"Not a bad grip . . . for a woman," Angelo said, while holding the grip and stepping even closer to Janet.
"Twenty-three years in the Marines, two tours in Iraq, a Purple Heart and a Silver Star; I don't intimidate worth a shit, Detective," Janet said, as she stared, unblinking, up into his dark brown eyes.
"Good, neither do I . . . Director," Angelo said, as he released his grip. He had squeezed hard, very hard, and she hadn't blinked or winced. He was impressed.
"Director, I see this as a case of . . . you show me yours and I'll show you mine. The FBI has the info on this case locked up tight. Eventually, you can pry most of it out of them, but that will take lawyers and time. I know from experience that different federal agencies don't play well together, especially if you've already kept them in the dark on this . . . case," Angelo said.
"The FBI has a recent history of leaking information. The President couldn't risk that. So what are you offering me?" Janet said, as she withdrew her aching hand. She suspected that the man had broken something.
"Video of the perps and video of the vehicle they used to exit the hospital . . . for starters," Angelo said.
Janet considered his offer. "I either include him or have him terminated," then decided she had no other legal alternative than to include this man.
"This story starts with a Lieutenant General Kung Yusheng of the People's Liberation Army. In 1990 he was installed as the Commanding General of 22 Base in Baoji, China. Surplus nuclear warheads are stored at the base in a complex buried deep below a mountain range. Sometime after that, Kung conceived of the idea of smuggling nuclear weapons into the United States. He diverted assets from 22 Base, and replaced older Highly Enriched Uranium with material processed in another facility in the same complex. From what we've learned, partly due to the investigations of Agent Langford, his first insertion of a nuclear device was into San Francisco, sometime in 1992. A fire at that particular location led us to other locations scattered throughout the continental US. To put it simply, Detective Morehead, the Chinese had us pretty well screwed," Janet said, while stepping even closer to Angelo.
Angelo stared into her eyes and knew that every word was the truth. Now he had to decide how far into this maze he was willing to go.
"Well Director, if they had us screwed, why are we still able to have this conversation?" Angelo asked.
"Beca
use your government, whatever you might think, isn't completely incompetent. Your turn," Janet said.
"OK, Director, I'll play. At 0310 an ambulance backed up to the loading dock. At 0312 five men exited the vehicle. Four men were dressed in US Army green camo BDUs, armed with suppressed M4A1s, body armor, and face shields to hide their identities. The fifth man was dressed in US Army hospital whites. He was pushing an ambulance gurney. They entered the hospital through the loading dock. At approximately 0313 they met Marty Watkins, one of the night shift cleaning crew, in a hallway just inside the main hospital. He must have said something they didn't like, or they had planned to kill anyone they came across. We found his body in a storage room off the hallway. His throat had been cut. The team exited the . . . " Angelo began.
"Detective, I got the rest from Agent Langford. I'm very sorry about your brother," Janet said.
Angelo ignored her interruption and continued, his voice becoming louder.
"At 0315 the team exited the elevator on the 5th floor. They killed the first two officers, who were guarding the adjacent stairwell and elevator, with single shots to the head. They turned left and engaged the two officers standing outside Room 501. One officer was immediately killed with a single shot to the head. The other officer ducked and returned fire. He killed one member of the assault team and wounded another while being struck four times. Then they walked up . . . and executed my brother," Angelo said, his voice rose, shaking with pent up rage.
Janet swallowed hard as Angelo's eyes welled up with tears. She had seen Marines who had lost friends in combat driven into berserker frenzy. They were almost impossible to control. They were as likely to strike out at friends as at the enemy.
"Angelo, we're on your side. That's why you're here . . . to get answers. We need your help to find the men who did this . . . the men who murdered your brother," Amanda said, while stepping between Angelo and Janet.
HARRIS (Detonation) Page 3
