Vital Force

by Trevor Scott

  “And?”

  “And he never showed. He and the Chinese agent are gone.”

  “Gone?”

  “Missing.”

  Oestreich said, “Great.”

  “He was supposed to transfer the images by cell phone, but that didn’t work. We don’t know why.”

  “You were depending on Chinese cell service?”

  “We couldn’t give him a satellite phone. If caught, he’d be pegged as a spy in a heartbeat. The phone we gave him was secure, and the number would relay through one of our satellites to our embassy in Beijing.”

  “Do you know what he has?”

  The general shook his head. “No. There’s no way of knowing how far along they might be.”

  “They stole the hardware for our laser system under the last administration,” Oestreich said, “and I won’t let them get the software under my watch.”

  “What about the breach at Brightstar?” the general asked, and immediately regretted having done so. Yet, judging from the surprised expression on the chief of staff’s face, his intel had been correct.

  “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Karl. How long have we known each other?”

  Disgusted, Oestreich said, “Jesus H. Christ. Where the hell do you get your information?”

  Boles shrugged. “We all have our little agency.”

  “Yeah, well, I think we need you in the big Agency.”

  Laughing, Boles said, “And take a huge pay cut like you? I don’t think so. So, the breach. . .”

  “Our Agency is working it. It looks like the Chinese, though.”

  “I heard a transfer has been made and they’re on the run. Will that impact our test in Alaska?”

  The chief of staff pointed his finger at the general’s chest. “See. You’re already talking like you work for us.”

  Boles waited somewhat impatiently for an answer, his eyes intense and watching the other man’s eyes for the truth.

  Oestreich reluctantly said, “The test is delayed.”

  “Why? We want the Chinese to know our laser system works. Why else did we shoot down the Russian missile?”

  “It’s complicated. We want them to know about the airborne laser, with its more limited capability.”

  “But not the Alaskan system that’ll knock down anything they could ever develop.”

  Oestreich was silent, his eyes shifting toward the floor.

  “Well?” Boles said. “We could stop all missile development in the world if all of our laser systems work.”

  Maybe that was the problem, Boles thought. America sold a lot of weapons to our friends around the world. If they thought those weapons were useless, they would stop buying.

  Finally, Oestreich said, “The laser works as advertised. It’s the software we need to worry about. If the Chinese get that. . .”

  “They’ll have what we have,” Boles said. “Taiwan falls in a week, scooped back up into a true One China.”

  “That’s one concern. Think beyond that, though. China becomes a Superpower without having to spend a shitload of money developing nukes. They don’t have to worry about missiles from Russia, missiles from India, or missiles from rogue states. With the largest market in the world, the entire world economy shifts from America to China. We’ll become a footnote in history.”

  Boles thought hard about that, not even seriously considering that possibility.

  “We can’t let that happen,” the chief of staff said emphatically.

  36

  Dandong, China

  Jake’s first understanding that all was not all right came with a quiet click at the door latch. Had he not gotten up from bed to go to the bathroom for a glass of water, he would have been sound asleep.

  With the click, though, Jake glanced over to find Su in bed, one leg hanging from the sheet. He left the bathroom light on, but left the door open only a crack to shine some light into the room as he moved over toward the door clothed only in his underwear.

  The first thing he saw was a gun, silenced, inching into their room. With one quick movement, he shoved his shoulder into the door, knocking the gun to the floor.

  The intruder let out a yell as his hand crunched between door and door frame. Jake jammed it again, but the hand had retreated. He fumbled with the lock. It wouldn’t go.

  Then the door shoved in on him with great force, knocking him back into the room.

  By now, Su had woken and let out a gasp as she pulled the sheet up to cover her nakedness.

  Jake recovered, catching the first man in the sternum with a kick. The thrust knocked the first man into the second one, pushing them back a couple of feet.

  Moving to his left, Jake caught the second man with a kick to the knee. There was a snap as he dislocated cartilage, bringing the man to his one good knee.

  The first man hit Jake in the head with a backfist, dazing him slightly.

  Su gave up her dignity and leapt from bed, her first strike a kick to the gunman’s groin. Then she swiveled and rear-kicked the other man in his forehead, hurtling him backwards out the door.

  Jake sent an elbow into the head of the man eating his own balls. The man, the first gunman, struggled to depart, helping his friend to his feet. Together they mumbled and went off into the early morning darkness.

  Slamming the door shut, Jake jammed a chair under the door latch and turned to find Su still in a fighting stance, her breathing heavy. He wanted to linger and watch her lovely body, her breasts heaving with each breath, but he knew they had to leave.

  “Let’s go,” Jake said. “Get dressed.”

  They hurried around the room, shoving things into their backpacks and throwing on clothes.

  “Who were they?” Su asked, confused. She put on her bra and then pulled a sweater over her head.

  “I don’t know. But I sure as hell don’t want to hang around and find out.”

  Jake put on his pants and then his socks and shoes. While he was leaning down to tie his shoes, he noticed the gun under the table. He was about to pick it up when he thought about prints. Putting on his leather driving gloves, he picked up the silenced automatic pistol. It was a knock off of the Russian Makarov in .22 caliber. Small caliber but quiet with a silencer.

  “That was their gun?” Su asked.

  “Yeah.” Jake pulled out the clip. Without counting, it looked to hold at least fifteen rounds. He pulled the bullet from the chamber.

  “Why are they trying to kill us?” she asked him. She was now dressed and ready to roll.

  Jake shrugged. “They have to be part of what’s going on up north. But the better question is, how did they find us?” He had cut the handle off his backpack and checked everything else out thoroughly. As far as he knew, everything he had was clean.

  “Why you looking at me?” she said, her head to one side.

  There was nothing on her, he knew. She had never left his sight, so she couldn’t have called anyone. And why would she? But how else?

  “Do you have anything in your pack. Any way they could trace you?”

  “No.” She looked hurt and disturbed by his question.

  “I had to ask.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “What about the car? They would have found the man. His car was gone. They would know we took it.”

  “That’s why I parked it in the isolated part of the parking lot,” he said. It wasn’t the time to argue about it, though. They had to leave now.

  After unscrewing the silencer, he shoved the empty gun into his inside jacket pocket.

  “Come on,” he said. “They’ll be back with their friends soon.” He checked his watch. It was almost six a.m. and the sun was still a ways from coming up.

  They both put on their packs and went to the door. Cautiously, Jake left first, checking both ways. He headed out down the corridor in the opposite direction that the men had gone. Jake thought about going by the front desk and taking care of the person who had given away their room, but he realiz
ed that just about anyone would have done so with a gun shoved up their nose.

  Instead, Jake lead them out a side exit. They couldn’t go to the car, that was certain. Hurry, Jake, think fast, he thought, as he glanced about the parking lot.

  Then he saw his answer just as he saw a small van with blue lights on top, swirling about, approach from the road that lead to the airport. There would be more to come, he knew. Move it.

  There was an airport shuttle van parked just down from the lobby entrance. It was their only chance.

  Su looked nervous as Jake pulled her forward toward the van.

  The van was empty except for the driver, a tiny man with hair almost to his shoulders. Su got in first, telling the man they had to hurry or they would miss their flight. The man, whose face was weathered, looked at Jake with suspicion, his cigarette bobbing from his mouth as he said something to Su.

  She told him to get going, waving her hand at him.

  Reluctantly, the man put the van in gear and pulled out of the parking lot.

  “What’s going on?” Jake whispered to her.

  “He asked about the blood on your head. That hit broke open your wound.”

  Jake felt with his left hand, pulling back a swatch of blood on his palm.

  “I told him you were an American kickboxer,” Su said, “and you had another fight tonight. Here.” She handed him a silk scarf.

  “That was quick thinking,” Jake said. “This is silk.”

  “Does not matter.”

  He wiped the blood and then held the scarf against his wound. “I was about to pistol-whip his ass.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “Pistol whip?”

  “Pull the gun and knock him into next week,” Jake explained. “Didn’t you watch American T.V. at Stanford?”

  “Stanford is hard. No time.”

  The driver pulled out into light traffic and made a comment when another police van swished past, its blue lights flashing. Su answered him and he laughed in response.

  “What’d you say?”

  “I said a young couple were having a fight, throwing furniture around their room. I said they had kept most of the hotel up all night with their fighting.”

  “You’re good at this,” Jake told her, whispering in her ear.

  They got to the airport moments later and the driver dropped them off at the curb. Jake gave him a modest tip. Maybe he wouldn’t remember them. But Jake doubted that. He was sure there were not that many Americans traveling in this area of China.

  Once inside the small terminal, Jake thought about an immediate problem. He still had the gun in his pocket. His solution wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do.

  Jake brought them to a row of chairs against a wall of windows that overlooked the tarmac. Across from them was a ticket counter with three lines of people. It was much busier than he expected, and that would work to their advantage. They needed to split up, Jake thought.

  Jake handed her a stack of cash. “Take what you need to buy two tickets for yourself. Pay cash for the seven a.m. flight to Beijing.”

  “But. . .”

  “We’re not going there. Change lines, and then buy a ticket to Seoul for seven fifteen.”

  “What about baggage? They’ll want me to send that to Beijing.”

  “Tell them you have to go to visit your sick mother and were in too much of a hurry to pack anything.”

  “I’ll bring you your bag for the Seoul check in, but first I have to take care of something. Go.”

  Once she left, Jake hauled both backpacks into the men’s room. He waited for a man to buckle his pants and leave and then went into a stall with the packs. It was a chance, but a chance they’d have to take. First he pulled out a pin from Su’s frame on her pack. Then he shoved some toilet paper down the tube. Pulling the gun from his pocket, he removed the clip, pulled the bullets out, and followed the paper with one of the .22 caliber rounds, continuing with paper and bullets until it reached close to the top. Then he returned the pin to the frame. Next, he opened her pack and dug his hands inside. It was mostly clothes, but he did find her cell phone. Setting that aside, he looked at the gun. With a few quick motions, he had the gun in a few pieces. Then he scattered the handle in one part of the pack and the silencer in another. If the pack was x-rayed, which he doubted would happen at this airport, it would look nothing like a gun. He put the firing mechanism and the barrel in two different locations in his own backpack. Then, satisfied, he hurried out to the terminal.

  By now, Su was in the second line for her ticket to Seoul. She looked relieved to see him coming. But he said nothing as he set her backpack down next to her and went to another line.

  Within a half hour, Jake had two tickets in his pocket. One to Shanghai and the seven fifteen flight to Seoul. Now, without packs, he went through security, keeping his distance from Su, who was four or five people behind him.

  They waited in an area for a regional flight to Harbin. Once that flight was called, they moved to the Beijing waiting area, which was packed with people. Sitting a few rows apart, Su gave him a concerned look when she saw four uniformed police officers enter the area. They appeared to be looking for someone.

  Jake watched them carefully, planning his next move. They were so close, he thought. They had to make it. He rarely reflected on mistakes, for he knew that he would never live without them. Those who purported to be without error probably never took a chance. And now, watching the police sift through the crowd toward them, he only had his training and his wits to turn the situation in his favor. Nothing else would matter.

  37

  SeaTac, Washington

  Special Agent Drew Fisher sat in the driver’s seat of the Chevy Impala, his eyes fighting to stay awake. He had driven around the Seattle area most of the night, staying as far back from the white Trooper as possible to avoid detection.

  Now, it was five in the morning and he was half a block from the Trooper less than a half a mile from Seattle-Tacoma International Airport. The Asian woman had parked her Trooper in a hotel lot, reclined the seat, and seemed to be sleeping, Fisher thought.

  What in the hell was she up to now? She had been there for a couple hours.

  Although he had called in his position, and had been assured by the Portland office that he would be backed up by Agency agents from the Seattle and Tacoma offices, he had still not seen them arrive. Perhaps they were laying back. Watching.

  Fight the urge to sleep, Fisher thought, his head nodding down and then jerking back up again.

  Suddenly, there was a light tap on the driver’s window, but it seemed to rattle the entire car in his current state. He shook out the cobwebs and went for his gun.

  When his eyes finally adjusted to the reality of what was before him, he powered the window down.

  “What the hell?” Fisher said softly. “How’d you get here?”

  Her right hand on her hip and the other strapped across her chest, Special Agent Jane Harris shrugged as her brows rose. “You gonna let me in? This is Seattle. It’s cold and damp.”

  He unlocked the passenger door and she hurried around and climbed in.

  Once she was settled in place, Fisher asked, “How’d you find me?”

  She pointed up the street a block on the other side of the hotel parking lot at an older Ford parked against the curb. “That’s one of our Agency cars,” she said. “There’s another one behind us five cars. Are you all right?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “I thought you’d catch your backup hanging about.”

  “I’m tired. You still didn’t answer my question. What the hell you doin’ here?”

  “You mean this?” she said, lifting her left arm slightly. It was in a dark blue sling. “Portland didn’t tell you?”

  “Said you were all right but. . .”

  “Turns out the bullet cut through without hittin’ bone. They stitched up both sides, patched me up tighter than a frog’s ass, and sent me on my way. Fuckin’ doctor wanted me to stay the
night, but I don’t think it had anything to do with the hole in my arm.”

  Fisher laughed. “Glad to see your sense of humor is intact.”

  “Hey, the bruise is worse. Where one round hit the Kevlar.”

  “Thank God you have some padding there,” he said.

  “Ah, and I didn’t think you noticed.”

  “I’m a trained Agency officer. Supposed to notice things like that.”

  They sat staring at each other for a moment, neither sure what to say.

  Fisher broke first. “What’d our local Agency folks say?”

  “He wanted to know if they should move on Li, our Asian killer.”

  “I like the way he thinks. What do you think? Should we take her now?”

  She thought for a moment, unsure. “I had to catch an Air National Guard flight in a C-130 out of Portland to McChord Air Force Base. Rode in a damn mesh jump seat. Almost froze my ass off. Let’s see this through. We can always take her at the airport if she tries to board a flight to China.” Pulling a piece of paper from her coat pocket, she unfolded it and tried to view it in the low light. “There are three flights to Beijing today. The first is at noon, and it goes through Tokyo. Second is a direct flight to Beijing. And the third goes through Hong Kong. The Agency will have people undercover at all of those terminals.”

  “I’m guessing the direct flight,” Fisher said.

  “Good guess. Had the same thought.”

  Fisher’s eyes tried to focus on his partner, but he was having a hard time staying awake.

  She put her hand on his arm. “Why don’t you hop in the back and catch some sleep. I got a couple of hours with waiting at the airport and on the plane.”

  He let out a deep sigh and nodded. “You wake me if she starts to move?” Instead of going around and closing two doors, Fisher simply climbed through the two front bucket seats. He curled up into a fetal position, barely fitting in the back seats.

  Agent Harris slid from the passenger to the driver’s seat.

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you about Cliff.”

  “He dead?”

  “Hell, no. He’s like a cockroach. The bullet grazed his skull. Took out a nice chunk, but the surgeon in Seattle patched him up nice, from what I hear. He woke up singing like a bird in a cage.”