Collier slapped the table. “Which only underscores the need to respond now.”
Johnston nodded his head. “Agreed. The last thing we need is this turning into another mess.”
“Do you know what you’re saying?!” responded Miller in a raised voice. “One counter response after another, until we’re on the brink of war. Where do you think this leads if this time we start with a counterattack?!”
“Please,” Collier scoffed, “this is different. The Chinese have screwed up and they know it. They’ll back down when everyone else knows it too.”
“And what if they don’t?” asked Carr. “What if they raise the stakes instead? The Russians didn’t back down and we had all of Europe behind us. What if the Chinese don’t admit responsibility or back down? Are you suggesting we fight two wars?”
“I’m suggesting we won’t have to.”
Listening from the giant screen at the other end of the table, the Air Force Chief shook his head. “Trying to predict the actions of the Chinese is damn dangerous. We’ve been wrong before, and more than once.”
Collier looked up at the screen. “There’s a big difference between predicting monetary policy and military strategy, General.”
“Is there?” Langford asked.
“You’re kidding, right?”
Langford stared back at Collier. “I don’t think we’re in a position to predict anything the Chinese might do.” He turned toward Carr. “With all due respect, Mr. President, I think we’re losing sight here.”
“Explain.”
“We’re thinking almost exclusively in terms of retaliation. But I think we would be better served to think more about their intent. Remember, their Corvette ship was trying to leave port and we were about to ram the damn thing. But it’s likely the Corvette couldn’t have done anything even if it wanted to. Their hidden sub fired on the Bowditch defensively. If it were an offensive attack, they could have done it sooner, not at the last second. But they were there to make sure the Corvette warship made it out in one piece because of what it was carrying.”
Langford paused, making eye contact with everyone. “In fact, I’m not convinced they intended to attack the Bowditch until they had no choice. And if that’s true, this posturing is going to get us nowhere. It’s a sideshow with our only options being more dangerous escalations.”
Langford continued. “What this is really about is that cargo. We already know what was in those plants. So unless the Chinese intended to attack all along, it was simply the value of their cargo that left them no choice but to fight their way out. The fact that their sub hadn’t moved means they were prepared for more than one scenario.”
“What are you suggesting, Admiral?” asked Collier. “To ignore the fact they destroyed our ship and killed a fifth of its crew?”
“What I’m suggesting is we may very well find our counterattack provokes them into an ever-increasing escalation that they never had any interest in pursuing. And in the meantime, while we prepare to burn our resources to show the world who’s mightier, they are quietly sending over a dozen vessels into the Atlantic to search for anything left of those plants. In other words, our sabre rattling may simply end up providing them the opportunity they need to keep us busy. While they recover what was clearly important enough to start a fight over in the first place.”
Carr looked at him pensively. “You’re suggesting we go after it ourselves.”
“Correct.”
“Even though we’re still not sure why they sank their own ship only hours after escaping from Georgetown.”
“I’m not sure it matters, Mr. President.”
The President raised an eyebrow.
“Cleary something went wrong. Whether it’s a coup within their government or just a catastrophic mistake, it’s crystal clear what they really care about.”
“Maybe they realized there was something dangerous onboard,” Collier said sarcastically.
Langford considered it. “It’s possible. But they’re still sending every ship they have to salvage it.”
“So, we try to get there first.”
“Exactly.”
“And you don’t think,” Collier replied, “that our own salvage ships trying to get there before theirs will create an escalation?”
“Not if we don’t send our salvage ships.”
Miller stared at him from across the table with a puzzled expression. “I’m not following.”
“Commander Lawton was the primary researcher of the plant sample we stole from the Chinese. She’s confident that based on its cellular structure, and the fact that salt water is almost the perfect solvent, there isn’t going to be much for China to recover in the Atlantic. Not to mention the area was still burning four days later from thousands of gallons of spilled diesel fuel.”
“I’m afraid you’ve lost me,” Carr said. “If there’s nothing left to recover, how then are you proposing we go after it?”
After a deep breath, Langford turned back to the President. “There may be two other ways to grab what the Chinese are after…before they can. One is through the DNA of a small monkey. And the other may be in a box shipped to Beijing, one that the Chinese government may not even realize they have.”
President Carr, who was leaning back in his black leather chair, suddenly leaned forward.
“What did you just say?”
14
Wil Borger leaned back in his chair with a loud squeak. His heavyset frame filled every inch of space between the armrests. “That’s our man.”
Clay was studying the screen again, staring at the Chinese military photo ID. It had taken most of the night, but they finally identified the individual on the Xian Y-20 who was transporting back what they suspected was the extracted genetic material. If they were correct, the contents of that case could now be the most valuable item on the planet. But, the real question was…where was it now?
“Lieutenant Li of the Chinese Army. Enlisted at the age of twenty-one. Received a direct appointment to officer training after four years and has since then risen from Officer Cadet to First Lieutenant. Pretty impressive.”
Borger nodded with arms crossed over his large belly, mostly hidden by a deep blue and white Hawaiian shirt. “Awarded the Medal of Outstanding Service and the Medal for Outstanding Achievement. What’s the Medal of Army Brilliance for?”
Clay shook his head. “Not sure.”
“Well, one thing is for sure, this guy is highly decorated.”
“He is indeed.”
“So why have this guy Li escort the box home, almost nonstop on a secure military plane? Anyone could have done that. An honor thing maybe?”
“Possibly. Both the Chinese political and military systems are highly class-based…but if you were trying to keep something quiet, especially something this big, would you pick one of the more recognized officers in the army?”
“Not unless I wanted someone to notice.”
“Right. Then why would they want someone to notice?”
Borger shrugged. “Maybe credibility. As in ‘look what I have and you don’t.’ ”
“Maybe. But then you’d have to worry about it being intercepted.” Clay moved his chair closer. “Bring up that picture of him deplaning in Beijing again.”
Borger complied and brought another image up on screen. It was a satellite image, slightly grainier than the first, of Li walking from the giant Y-20 to a large hangar at the Tongxian Air Base in Beijing.
“Do you see any security around the hangar?” Clay asked.
Borger zoomed in. “No.”
“And he’s moving quickly.”
“Yeah, he is.”
“So either the place was empty, which I doubt, or there was no show or display intended here.”
“Okay,” frowned Borger. “Then we’re back to why pick someone that a lot of people on that base might recognize?”
Clay remained quiet for a long time. Finally, the corner of his mouth curled. “Trust,” he mumbled.
/>
“What?”
“Trust,” Clay repeated, louder.
“Trust?”
“Trust.” Now Clay was thinking out loud. “Whoever brought it in was going to be noticed. Especially on that plane. That was unavoidable. To keep it secure meant using the Y-20, which also meant attention. There would be no way to avoid that…especially if it all had to happen fast.”
“So you give up anonymity for speed.”
“Exactly.”
“But why a hero Lieutenant then?”
“Because if you need it done fast, and you’re going to be seen, you better be damn sure you can trust the man bringing it!”
“Ahhh,” Borger replied, nodding his head. “Someone you could trust not to screw you.”
“Right.”
“So, someone in the government was out to get the sample first, and used our friend Li to protect it.”
Clay shook his head again. “Not just anyone in the government. A politician wouldn’t use someone like Li. A military man would. A military man with a hell of a lot of clout to commandeer a new prototype like the Y-20.”
“So…now we find out who he took it to. Someone in the military.”
“That’s right. And someone who knew exactly what was happening in that jungle in Guyana!”
Borger smiled, then clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Our next challenge.”
Clay stood up and stretched. “How about a caffeine break?”
“Nah, I’m good. Just bring me another.”
Clay nodded and picked up the empty can of Jolt cola from Borger’s desk. “Didn’t they make this stuff illegal?”
“That’s NOT funny!”
With a chuckle, Clay turned and left the dark room. The sun was up outside, but without any windows, there was no indication of time in Borger’s “bunker.” Once outside and into the light, Clay blinked and quickly made his way down the wide beige-colored hallway toward the stairs.
As he was walking, his cell phone rang in his pocket. He retrieved it and looked at the small screen with a smile.
“Well hello, beautiful.”
“Good morning,” Alison’s voice sounded on the other end. “How are you?”
“Not too bad. How’s paradise?”
Alison stopped and looked around the parking lot of her research center from where she was standing. The warm sun was well off the horizon and a refreshing breeze wafted through the palm trees overhead. “It’s a beautiful morning. I tried to call you last night but got your voicemail.”
Clay pulled the phone away and looked at it again. He hadn’t noticed the small icon indicating a new message. “I’m sorry. I’m downstairs in Borger’s lab where there’s not much signal. We’ve been tied up most of the night.”
“Most of the night?” Alison asked, a hint of concern in her voice. “Did you get any sleep?”
“Not really. I’m too nervous to fall asleep in Borger’s lab. I’m afraid he’ll try to put something on my head and scan me.”
She laughed. “Well, you must be exhausted. I’m really sorry.”
Clay reached the top of the stairs and opened a door, stepping this time into a carpeted hallway. “That’s all right. Talking to you is perking me up.” When he looked back at the phone, he also noticed Alison had used the special encryption application like he’d shown her. The slight delay in their conversation confirmed it.
“You’re such a smooth-talker. Almost as smooth as your friend Steve who showed up here yesterday, by the way. And unannounced I might add.”
“Oh, right. Sorry about that. I meant to warn you.”
“Warn me is right,” she teased. “We had a very interesting conversation.”
“Well, Steve’s an interesting guy,” Clay joked, pulling open the door to the small vending room. The place was empty.
“I presume you know why he was here.”
“I do.” Clay closed the door behind him. He promptly punched a button on the machine for his coffee, then reached over and opened the door of a refrigerator. Inside were two cases of Jolt cola with a large piece of paper taped to the top. On the paper was a scribbled message that read: “Do not drink! Property of Wil Borger!” Clay always wondered why Borger felt compelled to label his drinks when no one else on the floor would drink them. “So,” he continued, “how did it go?”
“Probably not as well as Steve was hoping. DeeAnn’s still having a pretty hard time. She wasn’t very receptive. But Steve didn’t push her too hard. Oh, and speaking of DeeAnn, there’s something else I haven’t told you yet. She’s leaving.”
“Leaving?”
“Yes. She’s taking Dulce back to the Gorilla Foundation in California. She’s been really shaken up by all this, and unfortunately, I can’t stop her.”
Clay sighed and pulled his coffee out of the dispenser. He set it on the counter next to two cans of Borger’s Jolt. “No talking her out of it, huh?”
“I’ve tried. Believe me. She’s going and there’s nothing I can do to change her mind. I think there’s more going on with her than she’s telling me.”
Clay stared grimly at the wall. “Then I guess our visit didn’t help matters much.”
“Uh, no.”
“I’m sorry, Ali. We should have anticipated that. We were hoping for a different reaction.”
“What’s happening, John?”
Clay grinned. There was always something sweet in the way she said his first name.
“Things are happening pretty quickly here. Some of our assumptions about South America and the Bowditch were not accurate. And we’ve uncovered a few other surprises as well.”
“Steve said the man who kidnapped DeeAnn and Juan is dead. Blanco. And the person who killed him knows everything.”
“It looks that way. But that’s only part of the problem.” Clay wished he could tell her more, but he had to keep it to things in which Alison was already involved. She had been there in Brazil with him, Caesare, and Borger. She saw the same thing they had. And she also knew about the plants the Chinese had found and were smuggling out of the jungle.
“So how were things left there?”
“DeeAnn stormed out, clearly upset. But Steve didn’t push any further. Instead, he visited the guys and played with Dulce a little before he and the other men left.” She continued when Clay remained silent on the other end. “Does this mean I’m not going to see you for a while?”
“Probably not. I’m sorry. Things look like they’re unraveling on us. Without DeeAnn, our job is going to be much harder. I’m sure Steve told you that we don’t have a lot of time.”
“He did.” She tried to inject a little humor. “Maybe I could call Admiral Langford and call in my favor.”
She was surprised when Clay laughed.
“I don’t think you want to waste it on me,” he replied.
“Oh, don’t kid yourself. I’m saving it, but I’m definitely saving it for you.”
“Then let’s wait until your odds are better.” Clay changed the subject back to DeeAnn. “So listen, there’s a lot I can’t tell you, but I need you to try to work on DeeAnn for me. Without her and Dulce, we’re going to have a pretty big problem.”
“Okay, I’ll try.”
“Thanks. Unfortunately, I need to get back downstairs. Can I call you tonight?”
“I’ll be waiting.”
“What’s a good time?”
This time, he knew Alison was smiling on the other end. “Anytime is a good time.”
“Okay. I’ll call you as soon as I can.”
“I’m holding you to it. Bye.”
Clay hung up and glanced at his watch. Caesare and the other SEALs should have already arrived and began their preparations in Dam Neck, Virginia. They were running out of time and Clay hoped Alison could help bring DeeAnn around. Finding that capuchin monkey was a long shot, even with DeeAnn and Dulce’s help. Without them, it would be virtually impossible.
Alison may have appreciated that Caesare didn’t push Dee
Ann too hard, but the truth was it was a courtesy. They would avoid forcing her if they could. But when it came right down to it, if Alison couldn’t persuade DeeAnn, the only option left would be to bring her by force.
15
It was past midnight and Clay was still peering at the brightly lit laptop screen. Just a couple hours before, he and Borger had finally returned to their homes to rejuvenate with the help of a quick shower.
After finding several vulnerable state-owned servers in China, Borger began the process of worming his way inside while Clay investigated something else. A missing piece that continued to eat at him.
The Russian submarine Forel was still a mystery. The sub was supposed to have been decommissioned a few years earlier. However, since the CIA had classified the sub as a low threat, it fell off the radar of the Department of Defense and was replaced by newer R&D subs in Russia’s fourth and fifth generation classes.
Yet not only had the Forel mysteriously reemerged, it did so carrying a very different technology than originally outfitted.
Something wasn’t adding up. Why would the Russians keep an old submarine when the majority of its fleet was more modern and advanced? Clay suspected the capture of the Forel off the coast of South America had taken the Russians themselves by surprise.
But if the Russians found out what the Chinese were up to in Guyana and wanted to spy on them, they had better subs with which to do it. All the evidence was quickly supporting Clay’s suspicion that the Russian government was not aware of the Forel’s rebirth.
He sat back in his chair, thinking. The only light in the apartment came from the dining room chandelier above him. The darkened living room on the other side of his table was clean and neat. A leather couch and coffee table faced a broad, simply decorated wall with a wide flat-panel television fixed several feet above the fireplace. Neither the fireplace nor the television had been used in months.
Clay’s eyes were still on his computer screen. If the Forel had been “recommissioned,” U.S. intelligence would have found out, particularly if it was still in Russia, which suggested that it wasn’t officially recommissioned. Especially according to the article Clay had just found.
Catalyst (Breakthrough Book 3) Page 9
