Catalyst (Breakthrough Book 3)

by Michael C. Grumley

  “This could turn out bad, DeeAnn. Really, really bad. Not just for those at the top, but for everyone.”

  That instantly stopped DeeAnn’s head shaking. “I already tried to help. I did! And what did it get me? Nightmares, that’s what! I’m lucky if I sleep three hours a night. You know why? Because up there, for the first time in my life, I was completely and utterly helpless! They were about to kill me and dump my body, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it!”

  She looked at Caesare who remained quiet. “If it weren’t for you, Steve, I would be dead. Dead. Right now! I will never forget what you did. Ever. But there is no way I’m going to put myself in a position where that can happen again. I don’t care how many men you bring. Bring them, bring the Marines too, bring all of them, and I still wouldn’t go back! I’ve had enough fear to last me a lifetime. I sure as hell don’t need anymore.”

  DeeAnn could no longer stop the tears. She quit talking and looked for an exit. With a sudden burst, she ran past Caesare, flung the door open, and rushed out.

  Caesare emerged behind her and watched as DeeAnn disappeared down the stairs at the end of the hall. Once she was out of sight, he turned to the other men standing behind him.

  Tiewater raised an eyebrow. “That didn’t appear to go very well.”

  11

  The small, white Ming Dynasty vase smashed against the wall with the force and sound of a small explosion, breaking into hundreds of pieces as it fell onto the plush carpet. Tiago Otero was furious. His eyes blazed as he looked for something else to throw but found nothing within reach.

  He cursed repeatedly and glared back at Lieutenant Samuel Russo, the head of his own security, and the man delivering the news about his men. One was dead and the other hospitalized. They were instructed to burn the house down with Blanco’s dead family inside. But Russo’s men had failed miserably. Instead, they found the house virtually empty and someone waiting for them.

  It was worse than failure, it was humiliating. Now people would know that it was Otero who had been taught the lesson –– direct challenge to his power and influence over all of Brazil. A mockery.

  With lips snarling, Otero looked down at the table and the cut fabric Russo had laid upon it. “What is this?!”

  “A sign.”

  “A sign of what?!”

  “Of who did this. It’s in the shape of a trident. The symbol used for the U.S. Navy SEALs.”

  His eyes shot back to Russo. “The U.S. did this?”

  “It would appear so.”

  Otero’s gaze fell back to the shirt, blinking. “Why would Blanco be involved with the U.S.? What did they have to do with anything?” After considering the possibility, he finally shook his head, sneering. “It’s a prank. A diversion. Whoever did this wanted us to think it was the Americans. But they’d just as soon kill someone like Blanco as I would.”

  Russo stared at him over the table. “Not his family.”

  “Don’t be so sure.”

  Over the years, Otero had become familiar with many of the C.I.A.’s escapades. They were as ruthless as anyone. They simply made it appear as though it was someone else. But the Americans would never point the finger at themselves. Would they?

  His eyes narrowed. “Find out who it was. Now. No matter how you find them, I want to know who did this!”

  “I will.”

  Otero clenched his jaw and bared his teeth. He would track down who did it, who had publicly insulted him. And when he did, that man would find out that there were far worse things than letting some worthless family perish.

  He waved Russo away and waited until he left the room. Otero then turned and walked angrily through the room to his study. Lined floor to ceiling with rare and expensive books, he continued to the center of the room where a round table sat. It was covered with a giant map of Brazil and the entire South American continent. Centered on the country’s highest mountain range called Acarai, stood the range’s highest and still unnamed peak.

  He and his men were going to uncover its secret. Part of the Brazilian Army was coming with him and they weren’t leaving until Otero knew everything, including what the Chinese were after.

  It was a question he would soon regret asking.

  12

  Otero’s impending regret would come from a man named Xinzhen, who stood motionless in the enormous pavilion atop the China Club hotel. Nestled in the traditional hutong area and well-known as one of Beijing’s most lavish hotels, the China Club sprawled out over ten thousand square meters and was composed of several Qing Dynasty pavilions and secluded courtyards.

  Xinzhen stood solemnly, less than a meter from the thick glass wall, and peered out at the smog covered city of Beijing. The day was clearer than expected with only a thin film of pollution obstructing the view.

  He scanned the light gray cityscape, noting the eerie shadows belonging to dozens of cranes with their arms rising into the air, even now. They would be gone soon but for now they remained, serving as ghostly remnants of the largest bubble in human history. A level of greatness and grueling achievement the world would not see again for hundreds of years. The world where for decades demand had radically outpaced the supply of natural resources, only to leave the most immense economic vacuum imaginable.

  Reality was starting to set in, and like all economic bubbles before it, China’s delusion was now imploding in on itself. Bursting, and set to leave a wave of destruction in its wake. It was little comfort for Xinzhen knowing his country was not alone. Japan, Europe, Britain, and even the U.S., were all on their own precipice. They had each lost touch with economic reality, but none had matched the sheer insanity of mainland China. Massive amounts of mal-investment had created not just “bridges to nowhere,” but entire ghost cities able to house more than a hundred thousand residents each. Cities which still remained completely empty as though life had simply vanished from within. Built out of a construction mania and funded by government money printing, the looming destruction brought on by China’s frenzy would be epic in every sense of the word.

  As Xinzhen studied the city from his pavilion, he tried to imagine what it would look like when the money, and more importantly the confidence, was gone. When all of its citizens rushed for the proverbial “exit” at once.

  The collapses of other nations like Argentina and Brazil were already underway and serving as examples of what was to come. Mass shortages of food, energy, and basic staples were already rampant with citizens bartering for any amounts they could find. Pianos traded for crates of toilet paper and televisions traded for personal hygiene products were already common. The shortages in China were going to be just as bad, if not worse.

  Xinzhen took a deep breath. As bad as things were about to become, he cared surprisingly little. As part of the Politburo Standing Committee of the Communist Party of China, he and the other six members had long been protected by secret plans for their evacuation and survival. They would be whisked out of the city centers to the majestic mountains of Sihanba far to the north, where vast bunkers had been constructed and stockpiled. This would allow China’s elite to survive safely for decades…if only they could live that long.

  If the impossible were to be achieved, it had to be done now. Before the technical capability was lost forever. And to do it, Xinzhen was prepared to move Heaven and Earth.

  He heard the door open behind him and turned to find his secretary ushering in the man he had been waiting for. Xinzhen watched the man approach through the suite’s grand entryway and stop in the middle of the expansive room. He stood erect as Xinzhen stepped away from the window and crossed the room to meet him, hands still behind his back.

  “Agent Qin.”

  Li Qin bowed slightly. “Your Eminence. I am honored in your presence.”

  Normally Xinzhen would have left him standing, but instead motioned for the man to join him. He then lowered himself onto the wide circular couch.

  He watched Qin sit and stared at him. They had never met
before, but Xinzhen was well aware of the man’s reputation. As part of the Ministry of State Security agency, Qin was one of the very best the Counterintelligence Bureau had ever seen. He had a keen intellect and an even keener talent for finding those who did not want to be found. And in some cases, those who couldn’t be found by anyone else. Qin’s latest success had been the attainment of details behind China’s recent presidential scandal –– one that allowed the committee to oust the one man who dared challenge them, and with little resistance. A solution much preferred over normal methods, which would only attract more attention for the committee. The last thing any of them needed before a revolution.

  “Your patriotic work behind Bo Xilai’s treachery has been noticed. And appreciated.”

  Qin bowed again. “Thank you. You are very kind.” He was not surprised by the invitation. He’d found more than what he was looking for with Bo Xilai, a man who had risen through the ranks of the Communist Party and been considered a candidate for the next seat in the Standing Committee. But Bo’s corruption ran deep, much deeper than any of them knew. So deep were his indiscretions that Bo had found himself stripped of his titles, assets, and freedom in less than a month.

  Xinzhen leaned back gently into the plush couch. “Does it surprise you that I am alone?”

  Qin grinned respectfully. “Nothing surprises me, Your Eminence.”

  Xinzhen smiled in return. “Of course. Do you know why you’re here?”

  “I have only guesses.”

  “Humor me.”

  Qin briefly scanned the room without moving his head. “The relaxation of security suggests this is not disciplinary related. But the fact that you are alone makes it unlikely to be a congratulatory acknowledgment either. Nor are we meeting in a People’s sanctioned location. I suspect Your Eminence is preparing to assign me a private task of some kind.”

  Xinzhen continued observing the man. Qin was purposely meeting his eyes across the table, barely blinking. Something that few would do with the head of the Committee and arguably the most powerful person in China. The man was unafraid, something for which he was known. He was also willing to do whatever it took to succeed. A trait not uncommon within the higher levels of China’s government, but eventually most men had their boundaries. According to his sources, Qin had none.

  “What do you know about General Wei?”

  If Qin was surprised, he showed no indication.

  “General Wei. Highly decorated. Perfect service record over a thirty-year career. A model leader. And a dead one. By suicide two weeks ago.”

  “Why did he commit suicide?”

  Qin replied carefully. “I’m sure I do not know.”

  A trace of Xinzhen’s grin returned. “Of course.” He paused a moment. “Why do you think he killed himself?”

  “It is rumored that he was given an important task by the Committee and failed.”

  Failed was an understatement. “What do you know of his task?”

  “Only that it was in South America. I do not know of what or why. No one does,” he added.

  “The truth is, General Wei failed his people worse than any soldier in the history of our great country. A man who will be known as China’s greatest traitor.”

  Qin tilted his head slightly but said nothing.

  “Wei is the epitome of everything that is wrong with the country and why its demise is assured. In our darkest hour, he was given the highest honor and the most critical mission in China’s history. Yet, instead of honor, he chose secrecy and betrayal of his people and his country. He acted like a capitalist. His treachery has cost our country dearly. He murdered his own men and destroyed our ships. He deceived us from the beginning, then took his own life to keep the truth from his superiors. And still we do not know why.”

  Xinzhen took a breath before continuing. “Your talents and your service to China have been exceptionally faithful. You are highly trusted as a man who knows what it takes to maintain that trust. For these reasons, I have chosen you.”

  Qin dropped his head. “Thank you, Your Eminence. I am deeply grateful for your words. It would be my honor to serve you in whatever manner I can.”

  “Excellent.” Xinzhen stared across the small space with his powerful dark eyes. “You are to find out why. Why Wei chose to desert his country, and most importantly, what he was hiding. What he hides still in death.”

  “It will be done, My Eminence. With all of my ability.”

  Xinzhen nodded approvingly. “And your communication is to be with me, and me alone.”

  Qin exited the elevator at the bottom floor. Without a word, he crossed over the marble flooring through the lobby and left the hotel, emerging back into the stale, thick air. The tops of the skyscrapers disappeared into the sickly gray sky above, giving them an eerie appearance.

  The valet approached with Qin’s car, a black BMW M6, and quickly jumped out, holding the door open. Once inside, Qin turned up the air conditioner to purify the air inside. The smog was better today, but he could still taste a trace of the metallic sourness on his tongue.

  Once beyond the hotel grounds, he merged with the heavier traffic and headed east toward Xinhua, recounting the details of the meeting. Xinzhen’s posture had shown subtle signs of nervousness. And his seething for General Wei seemed somehow exaggerated. Qin knew of Wei. He also knew that Wei had been one of the least politically aligned military figures in the army.

  He decided he was more surprised that Wei had somehow turned the tables on the Committee than he was over Wei’s suicide. Wei was a smart man, which meant he clearly would have understood that crossing the Committee would only be done by someone who did not fear retribution.

  Qin thought again about the oddness in the old man’s seeming hatred for Wei. Particularly when considering that Xinzhen didn’t know what the General had been hiding.

  In the penthouse, Xinzhen was back at the window gazing outward again. There wasn’t much time left. The government’s façade was beginning to crumble quickly now. The propaganda and misinformation were wearing thin and would only last so long. The real question was whether someone like Qin would turn something up soon enough. And whether he could indeed be trusted.

  But Xinzhen had little choice. He had to take a chance, especially now. The price was simply too high, and as much as he would like to fully trust Qin, he couldn’t. He had to assume that Qin may already be loyal to one of the other Committee members, and if so, he wondered whether they somehow knew more than Xinzhen did.

  It was why he didn’t tell Qin everything, including the sinking of the American research vessel or the details around the destruction of their own warship.

  The Committee had potentially started a war with the United States in order for their ship to escape, but it was Wei who stunned them all by suddenly sinking both their ship and its precious cargo.

  Nothing made sense. Why did Wei do it? And more importantly…why hadn’t the Americans said a word about the attack on their ship?

  13

  Langford looked around the table and sighed. The “war room” at the White House was in complete disarray and the situation was deteriorating rapidly. For those who believed the planning around potential military excursions was always careful and deliberate, in this case, they could not have been more wrong.

  Langford watched Fred Collier, the new Chief of Naval Operations, show his frustration as he insisted that they were losing the opportunity for a swift and decisive counterattack over the loss of the Bowditch and its men. He pounded the table again, this time harder. Next to him, and not surprisingly, Sam Johnston, the Commandant of the Marine Corps, was in complete agreement.

  Across the dark walnut table, however, Merl Miller, the Secretary of Defense, was not so sure. He and President Carr sat side by side, listening to the lengthening outbursts of both military heads.

  Collier tried to regain his composure. “What I’m saying is that the political ramifications of us not acting are far greater than those if we do. The
y have directly challenged the sovereign power of the United States, and unless we show them clearly and definitively the repercussions of such an attack, our reputation and our resolve will be questioned by more than just China! Showing weakness now threatens the loss of our military supremacy. To other nations, this delay won’t look like deliberation, it will look like fear!”

  He lowered both hands onto the table before continuing. “We know it was the Chinese and we can prove it! We have to release the information now before they begin distancing themselves with propaganda!”

  “Agreed,” added Johnston. “The sooner we get NATO behind us, the better. China is going to spin the hell out of this. We’ve waited too long already.”

  “Too long?” asked President Carr. “Too long? Do I need to remind everyone here that just days ago we thought we had been attacked by the Russians?!” He looked around the table. “I’d say it’s a damn good thing we did wait too long.”

  “Mr. President,” Collier replied, jabbing the table with his finger. “It was my men who verified the Comp-B signature. There is no doubt in my mind it’s the Chinese. Zero!”

  Carr stared intently at his Naval Chief. “Okay, let’s assume it is. Tell me, Admiral, how exactly does your recommended response differ now that it’s the Chinese and not the Russians?”

  The question was like a dagger through Collier’s argument. There was no difference, and everyone at the table knew it.

  “I hope I’m not the only one at the table that remembers our foreign policy with China is different than with Russia.”

  Collier took a deep breath. “Mr. President, may I point out that the relationship between Russia and China continues to grow stronger by the day? It won’t be long before there is no difference in our policies.”

  “Except being twice as big,” Miller smirked.