Caine tore the plastic away, revealing a sleek, silver laptop, a bundled power cord, and a USB thumb drive. He set the device on the ground, plugged it in, and flipped open the top. A black screen and some glowing white Chinese characters greeted him. A cursor blinked in silence, waiting for the correct input.
Caine slid the machine over to Sean. “I assume you know the password?”
“No password,” Sean said. He looked into the webcam and placed his thumb on the trackpad. “Biometric security. Iris scan and thumbprint. Monk said he added me to the white list, so this should do it … bingo!” Sean smiled as the black security screen disappeared and the machine began to boot up. After a few seconds, they found themselves staring at a blank LINUX desktop.
“That’s weird. He wiped this machine … there’s no apps or files left at all. Wait, hold on. Here’s a folder.”
Sean moved the cursor to the lone folder and clicked it open. “Okay, we got a browser, and some kind of audio app called ‘Deep Echo.’” He tapped the keys again, navigating the browser to his email account. Within a few seconds, he downloaded the audio file to the desktop.
“You’re pretty good with a computer,” Caine remarked. He peered out the window at the street below.
“Lots of alone time and lots of video games,” Sean said as he dragged the audio file into the Deep Echo sound app. The waveform of the audio file scrolled across the screen as the song played. The bright, electronic ballad filled the room as the singer wailed the mournful refrain. “Wo dui ni de ai ranshao, my love for you burns!”
Sean winced. “God, this song sucks.”
The song played to the end and stopped. The only sound in the room was the distant clanking of jackhammers outside.
“That’s it … There’s nothing else in the file.”
Caine peered over his shoulder. “If he left this computer here for you to find, there must be something useful in this app.” His eyes ran over the various menus and functions of the programs. “Good thing this is in English. There …” He pointed to one of the menus on the screen. “LSB decoding. Try that.”
“What the hell is LSB?” Sean asked as he ran the file through the processing filter.
“Least Significant Bit. It’s another form of steganography. This song is a digital file, made of bits, tiny pieces of digital information. Some audio bits are more significant than others. LSB encoding replaces the least significant bits of the song with bits of a coded message. Your ear can barely hear the difference when you play the song. The message is hidden throughout the file. It’s just spread out, so you can’t put it together without software like this.”
The computer finished the decoding process and beeped. The image of the waveform faded from view.
“Hey, you’re right! It worked!”
A dense mass of computer code filled the screen. Row after row of numbers and letter scrolled in front of Sean's confused face.
"Well," Caine asked. 'What is it?"
Sean bit his lip. "I have no idea. Some kind of file, but it looks like gibberish to me."
Caine glanced at the laptop for a moment. "He must have left you the USB stick for a reason as well. Copy the file, then pack it up. We're leaving."
“Wait, where are we going?”
“There's nothing more left to find here. We can't stay any longer. Fang and his men obviously know about his place; they may have it under surveillance.”
Sean slammed the laptop shut pulled out the USB drive. He followed Caine as they stepped back out into the living room.
“We’ll lay low until I hear from my contact, and then we get the hell out of this country. Maybe they can help decode this file. Got it?”
Sean took a long look around the disheveled apartment. He handed the memory stick to Caine. “Yeah,” he said in a quiet voice. “I got it.”
Caine eyed Sean and sighed, as he slid the drive into his pocket. “I'm sorry about your friend. But we have to keep moving. It’s the only way we’ll get out of this.”
Sean nodded glumly, and they stepped out the door. “Is that more of your life experience talking?”
Caine looked down the hall and confirmed it was clear as they made their way towards the elevator. “Yeah,” he muttered.
Sean shook his head. “Some kind of life.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
As soon as they stepped into the lobby, Caine knew something was wrong.
He spotted three men dressed in casual clothes: jeans, dress shirts, leather jackets. Two of them sat on the sofas, flipping through the old, tattered magazines. The third was leaning against the front desk as if he was waiting from something.
They felt wrong.
The front desk was empty. There was no sign of the desk manager, but the gate was still half-open.
He felt the old familiar tingle on the back of his neck. A sixth sense of impending violence attuned by spending years in its company. The hazy afternoon sunlight beamed through the front doors of the building.
Those doors are a choke point, Caine thought. That’s where they want us to go.
Caine nudged Sean and stepped left, towards the desk. Sean gave him a knowing look and followed behind him in silence.
Kid feels it too, Caine thought. Good instincts.
Caine’s hand dropped to his front pocket. His fingers wrapped around a loose handful of coins, change left over from their dim sum lunch. The man standing in front of the desk looked up. A flicker of surprise flashed over his stony features, and Caine smiled.
“Hey, where’s the front desk guy?” Caine asked. “Our cable’s out.”
The man’s right hand drifted towards the waistband of his jeans. It was a slow, casual movement, but to Caine it was as obvious as a neon sign. The Chinese man shook his head
“Meiyou yingwen. No English.”
“Bullshit,” Caine snarled. “Catch!”
Caine yanked his hand from his pocket as the Chinese man's pistol cleared his waistband. Before the man could aim his gun, Caine flung the handful of coins towards him. The man instinctively raised his free hand to block his face. The barrage of shiny metal coins pelted his open palm. They were a distraction, nothing more.
That brief window of time was all Caine needed.
He stepped towards the man and pivoted right. The Chinese man struggled to turn with him, but he was too slow. As he raised the gun, Caine’s left arm shot out and grabbed his wrist. He pushed the gun away from him, pointing the muzzle behind the empty desk.
His right hand formed a stiff “L” shape and slid up under the barrel of the pistol. The man struggled to re-orient the weapon towards Caine, but he was trapped. Caine yanked his wrist back with his left hand and dipped his outside shoulder down. The sudden movement wrenched the gun from the man’s grasp. As Caine’s fingers wrapped around the butt of the pistol, he threw a left hook, into the man’s face.
The man staggered backwards. Caine’s right arm swung toward him. The butt of the pistol slammed into his nose with a loud crack. He fell back onto the front desk, clutching his broken nose. A crimson spatter of blood sprayed from his nostrils.
Caine didn’t stop moving. He leapt up into the air and grabbed the lower bars of the security gate. His weight drove the gate down, and it slid along its track with a loud, metallic clatter. The heavy metal bar slammed into the Chinese man’s chest. He gasped in pain as it struck him with a dull, fleshy thud and bounced off his ribs. Then he rolled off the desk and fell to the floor, groaning.
From the corner of his eye, Caine saw the other two men moving towards them. More men were streaming in through the front doors, led by a tall, slim man wearing a sleek, tailored suit. His skin had a pale, waxy look, and dark tortoiseshell sunglasses concealed his eyes.
Caine grabbed Sean. “Move!” he shouted. “Behind the desk!”
They leapt over the desk, sliding under the half-open gate as the other men opened fire. A hail of bullets screamed above them, punching holes in the wall behind the desk. Caine heard a
man shout in Chinese.
“Buyao sha tamen. Do not kill them! I want Sean Tyler alive!”
“Back the way we came, upstairs,” Caine snapped. “Go!” Keeping low, they crept behind the desk and out into the hallway that led to the apartments.
They raced down the hall. The frosted glass doors exploded behind them. Shards of white powdered glass flew into the air.
Sean pounded the elevator button. Caine grabbed his arm and dragged him towards the stairwell.
“Elevator’s no good, they can shut it down.”
Sean panted as they raced up the stairs. “That guy in the suit … he’s from the Ministry of State Security. He visited me at the black jail.”
“We can’t let him take you in. The assassin, Red Phoenix … it could be anyone in the Ministry, including him. Keep going up. If we can make it to the roof, maybe we can jump to the next building.”
“Wait, what? Did you say jump?”
Caine heard shouting on the stair beneath them. He glanced at the pistol in his hand. It was a Chinese-made NORINCO QSZ-92, chambered in 9mm. He spun around and fired two wild shots down the stairs.
“What are you shooting at?” Sean gasped as they rounded another flight of stairs.
“Just trying to slow them down … Keep moving!”
They ascended to the third-floor landing. Caine heard more shouting, this time from above them. He grabbed Sean and pulled him backwards. A hail of automatic weapon fire tore into the floor in front of them. Bullets screamed and whined as they ricocheted through the stairwell. A stray shot thudded into a door to their right.
Caine hissed a silent curse. “They must have had men on the roof. This way!” He kicked open the door, and they charged down another hallway. Rows of apartment doors flanked them to the left and right.
An elderly man in a bathrobe opened his door and bent down to grab a newspaper off his door mat. He looked up and saw Caine and Sean sprinting down the hall towards him. Caine raised his pistol. The elderly man’s sunken eyes opened wide with fear.
“Shen me guei dong shi!?!” he screamed and slammed the door shut as they rushed past.
Caine aimed the gun at the dusty, cracked window at the end of the hall. He fired three shots. The glass shattered, revealing a fire escape perched on the side of the building. Beyond the rickety metal platform, the steel beams and girders of the construction site rose up into the air.
“Through the window!” Caine shouted.
The stairwell door crashed open behind them. Caine looked over his shoulder. Men dressed in SWAT tactical gear flooded into the hallway. They were wearing body armor and carrying QCW-05 submachine guns. Caine recognized the bullpup design of the stocks. He knew the weapons were capable of firing subsonic armor-piercing rounds. Quiet and lethal, they were able to punch through armor plating at a hundred meters or less.
He fired a few more wild shots behind him. The SWAT team dropped to their knees as they took up defensive positions along the walls.
Whipping off his jacket, he tossed it to Sean. “Here, wrap your hands in this.”
Then he vaulted through the broken window, wincing as shards of glass bit into his flesh. The rusty metal fire escape shook as his weight slammed into it, but it held.
Caine kept running. He leapt up, planted his foot on the railing of the fire escape, and pushed off. He flew towards the construction site and sailed across the gap between the buildings.
He landed on the other side with a grunt and rolled across several sheets of plywood, a temporary floor that covered the metal beams. A skeleton of steel and concrete columns rose around him. He sprang to his feet and took cover behind one of the columns.
Sean ran to the edge of the fire escape, then stopped. Caine peered around the column. In the darkness beyond the window, he could see shadowy figures stalking towards Sean. They were closing in on the frightened young man.
“Sean, jump!” he shouted. “Don’t think, just do it!”
Caine heard muted Chinese shouting from inside the apartment building. Sean looked over his shoulder, then back at Caine. He planted his foot on the railing … and jumped.
Bad take-off, Caine thought. He’s not gonna make it.
Sure enough, Sean screamed in panic as his torso slammed into the side-beam of the other building. His hands clawed at the metal ledge as his legs flailed in the air beneath him.
Caine charged forward, firing into the shattered window of the building. The SWAT team inside took cover behind an open apartment door.
Caine knelt down and grabbed Sean’s hand. “I got you, stop kicking!”
Bracing his feet against the beam, he used one hand to pull Sean up. Gunfire roared through the air as he sent another double tap towards the men in the opposite building.
One of the SWAT team broke cover and charged for the window. Caine pulled Sean towards one of the support columns as the man opened fire with his QCW-05 submachine gun. The subsonic shots sounded liked popping fireworks rather than the explosive boom of Caine’s pistol. The wood flooring rattled and shook as bullets slammed into it, nipping at their heels.
They ducked behind the concrete column just as a trail of sparking gunfire ran up its length. The armor-piercing rounds gouged deep holes into the concrete. White, chalky dust exploded into the air. Sean winced as a sliver of shrapnel cut across his cheek.
“Holy shit!” he exclaimed as he brought his hand up and felt blood.
Caine glanced at the cut and squinted. “You’re fine, it’s just a scratch.”
Sean’s face was pale, and his bloodied hand was trembling. “They’re shooting at us! I thought they wanted to take me in alive?”
“That’s their primary objective.”
“Primary? What’s their secondary objective?”
Caine didn't answer. Several heavy thuds shook the plywood flooring. The SWAT team had jumped over.
“We have to keep moving," he shouted. "Get behind me, go!"
Caine stepped out from behind the column. He fired as they back-pedaled towards the other side of the skeletal building. Three members of the SWAT team had followed them across the gap. The men positioned themselves behind the columns, taking turns covering each other as they advanced forward.
On the other side of the partially constructed building, a long, orange cage clung to the side of the structure. Caine saw the platform of a hydraulic airlift sitting at rest in the metal framework. He pointed forward.
“There! We can use the lift, get down to street level.”
Sean sprinted towards the lift. Caine ducked behind another column and looked left and right. The SWAT team was moving down the center of the structure. They crisscrossed left and right, continuing to take cover behind the columns. He waited until the closest man ducked behind cover. Then he darted back the way he came and threw himself behind the next column.
Their attention is focused on Sean, he thought. With any luck, they didn’t see me double back.
He heard the footsteps of the men tramping closer. They were wearing heavy combat gear, and the wood flooring vibrated with every footfall. Caine stayed motionless, taking in soft, shallow breaths. These men were well-trained. They would be difficult to surprise.
The footsteps thudded closer. One of the men was approaching the column.
Now!
Caine darted out from hiding just before the SWAT officer moved past. Keeping his body turned sideways to make it a smaller target, he wrapped his left hand around the barrel of the man's QCW-05. He jerked forward and pivoted, keeping the SWAT officer’s body between him and the rest of the team. As he moved, he wrapped his right hand around the butt of the rifle and drove his knee upwards.
The blow connected with the man’s groin. He was wearing a cup, but he instinctively stepped back. He dropped one of his hands to protect his vitals. Caine tore the submachine gun free from his grip. He saw the other men closing in behind the officer he had just disarmed. There were three more of them. The flooring trembled under their combined we
ight.
He aimed the submachine gun at the men charging towards him.
Caine had killed many men in battle, more than he could ever count. He didn’t enjoy it, but in matters of life or death he had no qualms about doing what was necessary. But now, years of experience told him he would not be able to drop all four men before they were able to take out him, or Sean.
In a fraction of a second, he made a decision. He lowered his aim and kicked the man he had just disarmed backwards. The other men charged closer. Caine took a step back and felt his foot make contact with a metal beam. He pulled the trigger on the submachine gun.
Gunfire crackled through the air. He swept a line of automatic weapon fire across the plywood sheet just in front of the SWAT team.
The wood flooring splintered and cracked. The lead SWAT member raised his gun and stepped forward, but he was too late. The weakened panel snapped in half and collapsed. The SWAT team tumbled down to the floor below. As they fell, they fired their weapons, but their shots went wild. Bullets ricocheted off the metal girders, and Caine ducked as a stray shot whistled past his ear.
Caine turned and saw Sean leap onto the air lift. The metal platform buckled a bit, and Caine could see the air tanks and hoses shake underneath the lift.
“Come on, man, let’s go!” Sean called to him. As Caine jogged towards him, he heard more footsteps echoing through the structure. These were lighter, farther away. He looked up and saw the plywood sheets above him buckling. There was a gap in the flooring ahead, between him and Sean. Someone was running toward it, on the floor above.
The footsteps paused. A beam of green light pierced through the plaster dust that filled the air. It swung towards Sean, aiming straight down through the gap in the floor. Caine recognized it immediately. Green laser sights were brighter, and easier to see in daylight. The figure above them was a sniper.
“Sean, get down now!” Caine shouted.
Sean crouched down next to the lift controls. A high-pitched whine sliced through the air, and a bullet sparked off the orange frame of the lift.
“What the—” Sean yelled in surprise. Caine continued running towards him. He aimed the submachine gun at the floor above and opened fire. Bullets tore into the sheets of wood.
Red Phoenix: A Thomas Caine Thriller (The Thomas Caine Series Book 2) Page 26
