Li Yong spent over an hour describing the business jet crash—how it occurred and the initial seeds of fear the American media had already planted. Even in this most exclusive inner sanctum, hard news of the actual results remained vague. He moved on to the airliner crash. For another two hours, the five seated around the table barely nodded when he told them of the 147 passengers aboard the LTS450 and how their fate was inevitable.
At last, the Chairman of the Central Military Commission sat back in his chair, relaxed now. He leaned toward Xi BigBig. “We have been here for some time. Perhaps, you would like to adjourn until tomorrow?” Xi BigBig nodded his consent immediately and stood from his chair. The others followed him out of the room. He placed a hand on Li Yong’s shoulder forcing him back down.
“It is always wise to call frequent recesses,” the Chairman said. “Xi BigBig is not so young as the rest of us.” When they were alone, he turned to squarely face Li Yong. “My intelligence people used a proctoscope on every part of your life. You know this?”
“I figured,” Li Yong said. “My position is vital to the People’s security.”
The Chairman nodded. “And did you know that your parents and I were friends years ago?”
The man actually has friends? Who knew?
The Chairman nodded again. “I judge both your parents to be unwavering Party loyalists. Over the years, I have had my doubts about others, but never about your parents. You know this?”
Li Yong sucked in a sharp breath. Never before had a high Party official shared with him such candor. It was a confidence he did not covet.
“Why such certainty, you are wondering?”
“Comrade Chairman,” Li Yong seized this once in a lifetime chance. “I was actually wondering if you know my parents so well then explain why they sent me off to the State School when I was just seven?”
The Chairman’s snake-like eyes turned to slits. His tongue darted in and out wetting thin, pale lips as if preparing to eat a tasty morsel. But then he laughed. “It was the ultimate loyalty test. Even at seven years old you showed promise.”
“So you knew?” Li Yong asked.
“Knew? I suggested it to your parent’s block leader and set it in motion myself.”
Li Yong forced his military blank expression to remain. It had earned him the reputation as inscrutable among the men under his command. His fingers grew icy. Since I was just seven? All the special treatment. The best schools, the prized teachers. Wasn’t I different from the rest? Special? Taller, for sure. And robust. Six feet even and 180 pounds. I always stood out from my ordinary countrymen. Even my complexion—light, sallow even. Or was I just another of the 1.4 billion? Another instrument of the State? His heart raced. What about all the education they sent me to America for? Higher mathematics, computer engineering, international relations? Wasn’t that an honor? Li Yong clenched all the muscles in his chest, down to his stomach, trying to evade the awful truth now confronting him. There was no honor. All of it was just to hatch this plan for them. All these years—since I was a child—they were grooming the world’s worst mass murderer. Was I ever serving the State? Or was I promoting the insane wishes of five maniacs?
“Tell me about the fatalities when our plan is finished.”
Li Yong felt the icy fingers of this unwanted intimacy close around him like a fist. The moment of truth bore down on him. The question was how badly do they need me for the rest of the attacks? His stomach clenched even tighter. He had never shared this even with his team at Unit 61398. “This plan will succeed as intended with a significantly reduced loss of American life than would have otherwise been required.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he saw his mistake.
The Chairman shot forward in his chair and sat now eye to slitty eye with Li Yong. “Colonel, I am a soldier fighting a war. Between two economies, perhaps. But a war nevertheless. There will be casualties. Large numbers of casualties. That is the only way to get the Americans’ attention. You know this?”
Li Yong kept his head level and eyes fixed on the Chairman’s. Each breath pulled the man’s acrid exhalation of stale tobacco deeper down his throat. He resisted the urge to gag. There was no choice but to persevere. “Comrade,” Li Yong said, “during my near decade at the American universities, I saw their technology move far ahead of China’s—”
“A caution, my younger tiger.” The Chairman, totally in control, leaned back from the table. “We are not equals. There are many gray hairs who know more than you about the Americans and combat. I chose you to bridge the two generations between the generals and our war fighters. You know this?”
“So this private conversation is a loyalty test?”
The Chairman’s laugh roared into the vacant room. “No, Colonel. Not a loyalty test. Contrary to what you have heard, China advanced past such crude practices over a decade ago. Now, we just chop off the heads of those whose loyalty we suspect.” The Chairman’s hand shot out, giving Li Yong a none-too-gentle jab. Two warriors sharing a crude joke. “I do not question your patriotism. Even if your collaborative management style mocks the compartmentalized security precautions our army has revered for so long.”
“Then what?” Li Yong asked.
The Chairman of the Central Military Commission focused his near vertical pupils straight at his Colonel. “Li Yong, you should honor your mother and father. Check on them often. They seem to be in good health for now. Should you fail to execute your mission on time with the specified body count, I cannot guarantee such well-being. You know this?”
* * *
Chapter 14
Colonel Li Yong sat back in the chair rolled over for him by one of the men in Unit 61398’s commercial air group. His green PLA Colonel’s uniform had begun the day with the usual perfect creases he insisted on—sharp enough to cut bread, his men joked. That was over 16 hours ago. Now his unbuttoned tunic and rolled-up sleeves made him look less like a Colonel and more like the young computer hackers who worked for him. His appearance did not bother Li Yong. He had more important life-saving matters before him. His troops formed an attentive circle around him. When Li Yong spoke all stopped whatever they were doing and listened. Whenever Li Yong posed a question to the group, they each clamored to answer like students trying to please a revered teacher.
Li Yong sat quietly with his men, all eyes glued to the hacked CNN Internet news feed. It bypassed the State’s sanitized version. His pencil rap-rapped against the stark metal desk while they waited for little Wolfie Blitzer’s promised video footage. Outside the building, ten floors below, the opaque, mud-colored Yangtze flowed through Shanghai as if nothing had changed for thousands of years. But as of today, everything had changed. Li Yong stretched his long legs and folded his arms above his head to work out the shoulder kinks.
Then, on the computer screen flashed the first images of the InterTrans flight 3361 near miss. Li Yong never forgot the Chairman of the Central Military Commission’s lunacy about body count. A fool’s errand. It may get the initial attack done. But who in their right mind needlessly pokes a stick at a sleeping lion? A good way to get him to rise up and annihilate his provoker. It was a thought that began when he first designed the attacks four years ago. The deadly menace of what he was creating ate him alive. Even at that early stage, he began engineering safety valves.
His men loudly groaned and swore as the airliner safely landed on the water. Am I the only sane man in the entire PLA?
Li Yong knew that for this work speed and efficiency trumped the hacker’s fancy clandestine code or the Chairman’s brutality. You know this? Of course, he knew. Li Yong continued watching the Internet news feed of the airliner now bobbing safely in the Pacific. No mangled wreckage. No senseless loss of life. Yet, the effect on America’s airline system is exactly the same: worry and distrust. Let them attribute the USS Ronald Reagan’s presence in just that area and carrying the Predator drone remote flight station to dumb luck. But it was not dumb luck, was it? It was planning and the strat
egic use of hard-won intelligence. It was my safety valves designed, engineered, and installed beginning four years ago. All performed by just one man. Me. And, if honesty is a virtue, a little bit of trust in the Americans’ resourcefulness. They will never know it, but I have saved my comrades from needlessly becoming murderous monsters. Let that be my very private legacy. Anything else will put me and my family in plain coffins labeled as traitors to the State, stripped of any honor for all eternity.
Li Yong stood and took in a deep breath. His uniform tunic fell open across his chest. “There was a time when Unit 61398 infiltrated its targets using seemingly innocent emails.” The men laughed. Many were in middle school during that era. “We have come a long way from the shallow victories of stealing blueprints of manufacturing processes, copying the results of medical clinical trials and the formulas for life-saving pharmaceuticals.” Li Yong walked among his men, taller than all of them. He clapped a hand on a shoulder here and paused to shake another’s hand there. They were his men, his responsibility. He would not make them accomplices to mass murder. Yet, of this, they had no idea. “Xi BigBig would not be satisfied with such minor irritants aimed at our enemies. And neither are we. Today is the beginning of the world’s first strategic use of cyber warfare.”
The small group of computer hackers and commercial air specialists stood around him. “Let us not get too caught up in the glory of today’s accomplishments,” Li Yong said. “There is much work to do.”
A young, sallow faced Major stepped forward, “Colonel, the weather in the South Pacific is turning nasty.”
Li Yong simply nodded. So far, Li Yong made it appear he had done as the Chairman ordered. The man rationalized as just bad luck the unusually non-existent body count on the airliner attack. How long would such an explanation satisfy? Then they would come. First with news of his parents’ sudden death. Then to take him away, never to be seen again.
Are the safety valves built into each attack sufficiently redundant? Are they? Will the missions be successful and minimize casualties? Hell of a risk the Americans know nothing about. Li Yong looked up at the screen showing the LTS450 floating serenely in the ocean with its passengers standing on its wings, safe. He blew out a breath and gave thanks for this miracle. How many more miracles do the Americans and I have left on the shelf? Your mother and father enjoy excellent health. You know this? Li Yong knew it and never forgot.
My State has two enemies. The Central Committee first and its megalomaniac chairman is the second. That man is going to get us all incinerated by the Americans’ nuclear superpower.
Li Yong’s attention snapped back to the television monitors. He knew the Americans would discover the attacks on their airliners. No question about that. But did they have to discover it on just the second one?
Li Yong peered out his office window overlooking the Yangtze. The river undulated brown and snake-like through his city. Maximum body count, the Chairman insists. Yet, even a homicidal maniac can be controlled. We are taught from primary school that there is no such thing as a heroic American. Heroes exist only in the PLA. He silently thanked the Americans’ resilience and their heroic efforts that saved 147 innocent passengers. Still, are there enough heroes among you to save not only your own countrymen but my family as well? On that single mission, we stand together.
An authoritative knock came on his door. “Come Chief,” Li Yong said. With his back still to the door, he asked, “Did you know the years I spent in the United States taught me more about the American culture than I learned about computer engineering? Do you know the greatest lesson I took away from those long years?”
“NO SIR!”
“We are not on the parade ground, Chief.” Li Yong snapped back. Of course, the zealot will report every word. Li Yong turned around, managing to contort his face into a look of disapproval. He shook a finger beneath the startled young man’s chin, “Never underestimate the Americans’ resourcefulness, Chief. Especially their military. The Americans did not care how or why their airliner ditched into the ocean. That was irrelevant. Time enough to discover the cause later. After it is too late.” The minders listening to this will be looking for just such a guarantee. “Instead, they put those questions aside. They focus on preventing the disaster unfolding before their very eyes. Do we know how they saved the airliner?”
“Reports are coming in now, sir—”
“From the Ministry of Media? So you do not know, Chief.
“SIR! I KNOW. It is my job to know.”
“Spit it out then, Chief.” Finally, some spine in the man.
“They somehow flew it remotely.”
Li Yong stood straight. This is getting interesting. He allowed himself an inward smile. “Ahhh. See Chief? Resourceful. What do you think were the odds that this particular LTS450 airliner had the necessary equipment aboard for a remote controlled flight?”
“Sir, even our own specialists did not know. You led the research into InterTrans yourself.”
Li Yong nodded. “True, Chief. Their greedy management made them the perfect target. Yet, there they are. Out in the middle of the Pacific and a Predator remote flight control station just happens to be in the vicinity. Bizarre, don’t you think?”
“YES, SIR!”
“Resourcefulness wins out again.” Li Yong stroked his chin. He watched the man’s face turn red in frustration with this withering inquisition. One last thrust for those listening and the people to whom this dolt will repeat every word, “What does that tell you, Chief?”
“SIR! We can recognize and deal with the Americans’ resourcefulness.”
Finally, Chief. The blasphemy for all those listening. “Therefore, we do not worry about our adversary’s resourcefulness. It cannot hold out forever. The odds are still in our favor. Drop your report on my desk. What is the latest weather forecast for the Hawaiian Islands, Chief?”
“Deteriorating, sir. Winds are gusting to 40 kilometers per hour. There is rain and heavy fog in the outlying islands.”
Li Yong dismissed his Chief of Staff. He stared out his window again. The teacup and saucer rattled as he lifted them and tried for a calming sip. Resourcefulness, luck whatever the Chairman calls it, had nothing to do with the Reagan’s proximity to the crash site. Neither did that remote flight control workstation it just happened to have on board. The Americans may be resourceful. But they could never have prevented mass casualties without my help. Let us hope they are equal to their upcoming challenges. There is only so much I can do while maintaining the illusion of their resourcefulness. A delicate balance. My life and my parents’ lives depend on it.
Since officers’ school, the Chairman of the Central Military Commission was held up to the entire PLA as a soldier’s soldier. Smart. A brilliant tactician. Never lead from behind. Li Yong saw all the usual photos of the Chairman in battle dress utilities with a side arm strapped to his leg and studying maps spread over the hood of his command truck. One outstretched arm pointing the way. Forward; always forward; forever forward.
Now, finally, Li Yong accepted the truth. He had done everything they ordered him to do. Everything. None of it ever seemed like an order. Rather, a series of wonderful honors and opportunities to serve the Motherland. Forget sports, Li Yong. They are for the masses. You have so much more to offer. Mathematics, engineering, computers. All are within your easy grasp. You are special; not just another of the 1.4 billion comrades.
Realizing the coercion to get him to create such a weapon of mass destruction humiliated him. They had stolen his honor. And instead, made him just another of their murderers. He created his plan exactly in the Chairman’s old- school way—a sledgehammer to smash the enemy into oblivion for all of eternity when a tack hammer would have done the job faster, better, and with a small fraction of the loss of life.
Now, at this eleventh hour, when his attacks were loaded and the breach hatch slammed shut, the Chairman used one last lever—the murder of his family if his plan should somehow fail. Li Yong felt
more than just the hollowness of a man stripped of all honor. He was a man whose country and its leaders had forsaken him when all he ever did was follow their orders.
Nothing can restore one’s honor. But was there still something that could smother the Chairman’s blood lust? Li Yong stared at his desk. On it sat the latest issue of Forbes. Smiling from its cover was the most beautiful woman. Who is this? What did she do to earn the cover of a publication like Forbes? I will be sure to find out about her later. Maybe there is something. Just maybe. But I will need help.
Far below the offices of Unit 61398, the Yangtze flowed as it had for centuries.
* * *
Chapter 15
“Comrade Colonel, the Chairman of the Central Military Commission is on the line.” Li Yong took a deep breath before picking up his office phone. “Yes, Comrade Chairman!”
“I am watching the American airliner that just ditched into the Pacific Ocean. How did you accomplish that feat, Colonel?”
“Sir, the answer is complicated—”
“The short version, then Colonel.”
“Yes, sir.” Li Yong explained how Unit 61398 compromised hundreds of small, private American computer systems and used them as break-in points. The attacks worked their way up to military and governmental installations. “The congressional committees concluded that America’s computer infrastructure remained secure—everything was fine―”
“But everything was not fine,” the Chairman interrupted.
“Exactly.” Li Yong expounded on how his Unit 61398 did something much more poisonous than petty theft of data. “What we left behind—software and firmware-embedded instructions—lay dormant waiting. And now we have awakened them.”
“Tell me about LTS,” the Chairman said.
Li Yong would tell him just enough to be credible. Not nearly so much as to show his intentional reduction of the attack’s severity. Li Yong walked the Chairman through the special airplane sale between LTS and InterTrans Airlines. He carefully brought him to the point where Unit 61398 controlled the airliner while in flight.
Man of Honor Page 6
