by Andrew Watts
Elliot said, “You saw Chinese soldiers? How’d you know they were Chinese?”
David said, “We know. It only makes sense. Who else would want the information that they took from us? We suspected as much once. But we’re definitely sure now. Hell, we saw the red star painted on their troop transport helicopters on the last day, when the jig was up. We took a motorized raft and escaped. A storm helped us evade capture. Then we got picked up by an Australian fishing boat and taken to Darwin. I have no idea how they found us, but this whole international terrorism thing has to be a Chinese setup. We called home and tried to warn people, but it didn’t work.”
Elliot said, “What happened?”
“I called a guy at my work. We told him everything—the quick version—and asked him to set up a call in an hour so we could spread the word to all of the different agencies about what was going on. After that, we tried calling other people—Lindsay, you—but we never got through. Then we called back the guy at my work and he claimed to have reps from a bunch of military and government agencies. We were trying to warn everyone before an attack came.”
Chase said, “It’s alright, man. We know you were just trying to do the right thing. Do you remember any of the names?”
“I don’t think it matters. I have no idea who was really on the phone. Hell, it may not have even been Lundy.”
Elliot nodded. “If they knew the numbers that you were going to call, they could have had trained operatives and a preplanned response. That’s what I would have done.”
Chase said, “It’s alright. You’re gonna be alright. Give us another day and we’ll get you back to the States. We need to figure some stuff out here.”
Elliot said, “Chase, I think I’m going to want you to personally escort them back home. We need to get a warning to the right people. And based on what I’m hearing, I don’t trust our normal method of communications. Shit, those methods might not be available anyway.”
“Understood.”
A buzz went off and Chase picked his phone up out of his jacket’s inner breast pocket. He looked at the phone and said, “Waleed says he’s a few minutes out. I’m going to need to head upstairs.”
Elliot looked over to the other room where the Asian man was typing. He wasn’t paying attention. Elliot then said in a quiet tone, “He doesn’t want to meet here?”
David shook his head slowly. “No. But he said to make sure that our friend stays here until we have our chat.”
Elliot nodded.
David looked worried. “What for? Why do you need to leave?”
“Nothing. It’s something else. Another issue. I’ll be back soon. Elliot will continue this.”
Elliot was looking at his phone.
He said, “Chase, before you go, you might want to see this. They sent me the video feed from the drone over Bandar Abbas. It’s two minutes long. They sent me the highlights.”
Elliot held up his phone. All four of them watched as a roadside bomb destroyed two trucks and three cars on a highway. Then a dirt bike drove down the adjacent mountainside and through the wreckage. The rider fired a small machine gun at another military truck that was heading towards it. Then the bike raced about a mile to the shore, the truck in pursuit. Just before reaching the water, the rider slammed to a halt. A large sack was thrown onto the beach and set on fire. Then the rider threw off what looked like a ghillie suit and walked into the beach. It was a woman. A long-haired Asian woman. She looked up at the sky and placed her hand to her face just before diving into the water.
“What was she just doing?”
“It looked like she blew us a kiss.”
Chase said, “Well, that’s definitely Lisa Parker.”
David said, “Mr. Jackson, would you mind pausing the video so I can see her face?”
He gave David a strange look, no doubt wondering whether someone that had unwittingly just provided the Chinese with classified secrets should be shown anything this sensitive. Still, he did as David asked.
Elliot changed the angle of his phone in his hand and David caught a glimpse of the screen. It held an image of a pretty Asian woman blowing them a kiss from several miles below the drone’s camera.
Henry said, “Hey, that’s her.”
David said, “Brother, I don’t know any Lisa Parker. But I one hundred percent know that face.”
Elliot and Chase looked at each other, confused, and then back at David.
“That’s the Chinese woman that was running the Red Cell. That’s Lena Chou.”
16
Shang-Class Submarine
Fifteen Nautical Miles off the Coast of Dubai
Lena stared at the email on the computer screen in disbelief. The submarine had just gone up to periscope depth, downloaded a good deal of data from Chinese military satellites, and then plunged back to a depth of 250 feet.
The email was from Jinshan himself.
Hello, Lena,
I hope this finds you well. I am extremely impressed with your most recent accomplishments. My congratulations on a job well done.
Unfortunately, the Abu Musa operation was not successful. Not only has the physical link to the submarine cables proven faulty, but also our backup plan using our “faux” Satoshi plant seems to have been detected by the Americans. I received word from him recently that all of his uploads are complete, yet we still have no ability to artificially control the bitcoin valuation. I surmise that US intelligence is responsible for this. Alas, we knew that this operation was high-risk, and this outcome is not completely unexpected.
As I stated to you when we last spoke, the rapid execution of our plans is my primary concern. If one option fails, we shall move to the next. With the unfortunate failure of the Abu Musa operation, and the apparent success of your excursion to the north, I have decided that a change of direction is now prudent.
I have ordered an accelerated timeline for our Dubai operation. It has been brought to my attention, however, that there is a window of opportunity to recover certain assets prior to the commencement of the Dubai operation. Your mission is as follows. I leave it to your expert judgment to determine what, if anything on this list, can be accomplished. Your air transportation will be at rendezvous point #4 within one hour of your scheduled communications window.
She read the details of the mission outline, shaking her head. She looked at her watch. If she was to do this, she needed to move now.
She stormed out of the room, squeezing through the long, narrow corridor of the submarine until she reached the bridge. The Captain saw her and immediately rose from his seat. Normally the captain of a submarine was like a god on earth. But when the highest-ranking official in the Chinese Navy had spoken to him personally about this secret assignment, he’d had but one warning: do not anger Lena Chou.
“Miss Chou, how can I help you?” The sailors and officers in the bridge were all looking at her. There were no women on board Chinese submarines. One as attractive as Lena caused a lot of commotion. One enlisted man had made the mistake of groping her in a dark passageway. He’d made it seem like an accident. Perhaps it had been a dare from his friends. Lena had put him in the infirmary. Word had spread quickly after that. Everyone on board had now heard the same warning that the Captain had.
Lena addressed the Captain. “We need to surface immediately.”
He looked like someone had just struck him. “Excuse me?” Submarines were covert. Surfacing this close to Dubai was heresy.
“I’m sorry, but that’s not possible. We can’t surface. The American Navy has ships and aircraft throughout this region. If we surfaced, they might—”
“Captain, I understand the risk. But this is not a request. I am needed in Dubai. I expect that you will be getting your official orders any moment now. Also—I recommend that you make preparations for combat.”
A yellow light began blinking near one of the computers.
One of the young officers called out, “Sir, we’re receiving an urgent message from PLA
N Submarine Force.”
The Captain looked at Lena with a mix of apprehension and frustration. He said, “With respect, you are untrained in the art of submarine warfare. You cannot expect me to surface my boat in broad daylight when we are barely outside of the territorial waters of the United Arab Emirates, and very close to one of the busiest ports in the world. An American aircraft carrier just pulled in to that port. It would be extremely unwise to surface here.”
Lena didn’t want to risk having this go awry. She decided to take a soft approach. “Captain, surely there is a reason that a man of your skill was assigned to this mission.” She looked at her watch. “In a few moments, there will be a helicopter not far from our current location. It will be sent to pick me up and take me back to Dubai. You only need surface for a brief moment. Leave me in a raft if you must. But I need to be on that aircraft. This must be accomplished or our nation’s security will suffer greatly.”
The young officer near the communications station ripped off a printout of the urgent message and brought it over to the Captain. The Captain read the message. His eyes grew wide, and then fearful. He turned to his first officer. “Please find us a good place to come up.” He then continued reading the message.
Lena said, “Thank you, Captain. I’ll be at the main sail hatch in one minute.”
She turned and headed back to her room. She needed to find something more appropriate to wear. She hurried to the room and dug through her bags. There it was. A bit wrinkly, but it would do nicely. She quickly put her new outfit on.
Her mood improved as she thought of what she was going to do. She smiled to herself as she ran through China’s newest attack submarine wearing a tight black dress and flats. Her jet-black hair flowed over her shoulders. She reached the main sail and climbed up the ladder. The Captain was there, wide-eyed, a crumpled message in his hand.
He said, “Do you know what this says? Do you know what they are having me do?”
“Yes, Captain.”
“If I fire my missiles at these targets, we will be destroyed.”
She stopped climbing up the ladder and gave him a stern look. Two sailors stood next to him, looking nervous. She said, “Captain, are you going to carry out your orders?”
Red-faced, he replied, “Yes. Yes, of course.”
“Very well, Captain. Good luck.”
He muttered under his breath. “But this is lunacy.”
Still looking at him, she replied, “No, Captain, it is war.”
She turned and lifted herself up the iron ladder and through the hatch. She stepped into the oven of the Persian Gulf air. Sure enough, three enlisted men held a raft in the water, waiting for her. The sailors wore masks over their faces, but she could still tell that they had open mouths as she slid down the main sail ladder and onto the hull wearing her dress, a long slit up the side of her skirt.
Within two minutes, the submarine had resubmerged and she floated by herself in the raft.
Lena had enjoyed “the game” that she had played for over a decade. Pretending to be an American spy, all the while working for her Chinese master. She also enjoyed using the skill that Jinshan had trained her for—killing. She wouldn’t lie to herself and say that she didn’t like it. It was an unexpected feeling, the first time she had taken a life, so many years ago. But now…she looked forward to it each and every time. The rush that she got was unlike anything else in life.
She was good at it. And everyone liked to do things that they were good at. Athletes loved to play their sports. Workaholics loved their work. Lena loved to kill. If there was a God, which Lena doubted, then why would he have made her so good at killing if he didn’t want her to do it? It was her calling.
A twinge of worry—an emotion her psyche rarely lent itself to—crept in. As fortunate as it had been that Chase and David had been brothers, she wondered if she would feel any regret in disappointing Chase. Their relationship had begun as pure lust. Most of Lena’s relationships were like that. A way for her to satisfy her physical needs without creating an emotional vulnerability that could be exploited by her many potential enemies. It frustrated her that she felt a connection with Chase, now. When she had found out that David Manning worked for In-Q-Tel, and on the ARES project, she had pulled strings to get him onto the Red Cell list.
Getting that list in front of Gorji had been a bit harder, but Natesh had done well there. She had used Chase, in more ways than one. She had used him to satisfy her sexual cravings. She had used him to find out what Elliot Jackson knew. And she had used him to identify someone who turned out to be a key member of the Red Cell. While David Manning’s Red Cell performance had turned out to be less than productive, that could change with the proper motivation.
The effects of the ARES cyberweapon had been strong, but not as strong as Natesh had predicted. Further expert consultation was needed.
If she was honest with herself, she did not wish to hurt Chase. She had enjoyed their time together, even if most of what she had told him was lies. She was very attracted to him, and not just physically. They were alike, in many ways. They were both heroes. Warriors who fought for what was right. The fact that they were on opposing sides was a shame, in a way.
As she looked to the east, she could see the tallest of Dubai’s skyscrapers peeking up over the horizon. The setting sun was behind her. The sound of a helicopter’s rotors grew louder. She closed her eyes and breathed in the salt air, stretching. It was a good day. She was getting ready to do what she was meant to do. Something she loved to do. Kill. She just hoped that she wouldn’t have to do it to him.
17
A crimson sunset flooded the monstrous panoramic glass walls of the Skyview Bar. The bar sat atop the famed Burj Al Arab hotel, five hundred feet above the warm waters of the Arabian Gulf. The Burj Al Arab was built to look like a magnificent white sail cast upward and surrounded by water. The fourth tallest hotel in the world, it was built on an artificial island and was advertised as the world’s only “7-star” hotel. Movie stars, royalty, and heads of state regularly stayed in the lavish resort with rooms that could exceed one hundred thousand dollars per night. VIPs sometimes arrived by helicopter to a landing pad that was suspended in air on the twenty-fifth floor. When they landed, fireworks and drums greeted them.
Directly below, multimillion-dollar yachts cruised past. Fading daylight, sea, and the Arabian Desert collided with Dubai’s sleek and modern skyline. Through the haze, Chase could just make out the ethereal tower that dwarfed the rest of the city, the Burj Khalifa. It rose up to the heavens, reflecting the sun like a gleaming fiery sword.
He sipped iced water as he turned his gaze back inside. From his corner table for two, he held the perfect field of view as he waited for Waleed. He had called Chase, frantic, just as they picked up David and Henry from the airport.
Waleed wouldn’t go into details on the phone, but he said that he had heard from Gorji, and that it was imperative that Satoshi remain in his room at the Burj Al Arab.
It was one more crisis that Elliot had to deal with. Iran was still spewing threats of war. US forces in the area were on high alert. Moments ago, Chase had watched as his father’s former aircraft carrier had sailed into the Dubai port of Jebel Ali. He wondered if they would even let the crew off the ship for liberty, or if they would just resupply and go back out to sea. He also wondered how their communication lines were doing.
In the past thirty-six hours since Lisa…or Lena…had executed her attack in Iran, global Internet and GPS networks had been spotty at best. The news said that it had mainly affected US-based assets. TV and phones in Dubai still worked. They could send emails, although most of the ones that went to the US bounced back. Phone calls to the US weren’t getting through.
The global stock markets had plummeted in panic. The markets were still functional, but businesses were starting to suffer from network interruptions.
The classified networks were all down. Datalink, Satcom. David’s revelation of this ARES cybe
rweapon was scary. Scarier was the thought that China was responsible. Why would they do that? If Lena was acting on behalf of the Chinese, why would they have wanted Gorji dead? Chase needed to get back downstairs so that he could finish hearing David and Henry’s story. Elliot and he needed to finish connecting the dots.
Chase scanned the spacious room. It was a work of art. The ceiling was adorned with colossal turquoise half-ovals that gave the impression of crashing waves. The richly carpeted floors and luxurious booth cushions were similarly patterned.
He looked at his watch. Where was Waleed?
The sound of a helicopter landing on the elevated pad caused a stir of commotion in the room. It lasted for about thirty seconds, and then faded away. From Chase’s seat, he couldn’t see that side of the hotel. Perhaps Waleed had been flown in?
A waiter brought over a silver plate of green olives, hummus, and warm pita bread, still puffed and steaming. Compliments of the house, he said. Chase was hungry. He nodded in thanks and popped an olive into his mouth.
He stopped mid-chew when he saw who walked in.
Strolling in from the entrance to the Skyview Bar was Lisa Parker. She looked stunningly attractive. Her long waves of black hair hung over her smooth bare shoulders. She wore a tight black dress which outlined her curvy yet athletic body. Chase went through a dozen responses in his mind as Lisa walked towards him, smiling.
He thought of reaching for his gun, but he didn’t. She looked unarmed. And there was something else…he didn’t know if he was capable of shooting her. Whoever she really was, whatever her motives, Chase still felt something for her.
In the intimate moments that they had shared, wrapped in sheets and each other’s embrace, there had been an emotion in her eyes. Fire, longing, desire, yes…but something else, too. Something like affection or adoration. Chase wanted to believe that those were true feelings behind those eyes.
Even now, knowing what he knew about what she had been a part of, he had feelings for her. And he hated himself for it.
