Francesca: “I’m his wife and I will always stand by him.”
The video ended and Jiaolong beamed. He tossed aside his earphones and rose. “Brilliant,” he said. He patted the editors’ shoulders and shook their hands. “Absolutely brilliant!” He turned to share his excitement with Zhin and Min, but they were deep in discussion about something.
His eyes went flat.
He looked up at the monitors with the live views of the room. Without his earphones he couldn’t hear the exchange, but he watched as the young Australian soldier appeared to offer Lin a bowl of steaming soup. She shook her head.
The drug in the soup was harmless, though it did wonders to loosen lips and wash away inhibitions. Perhaps he’d share a few sips with Lin later and then enjoy a little alone time. The thought lingered for a moment—until he noticed an odd change in behavior among Francesca and the men. They seemed uneasy and Francesca was shaking her head.
“Turn up the volume on the live feed,” he said.
One of the editors flipped a switch, and Jiaolong listened as Lin spoke.
“But there were too many rumors for it not to be true. It was a miniature pyramid, apparently a subcomponent of one of the larger ones.”
Jiaolong turned to Pak. “This is not part of the script.”
“No, sir, it is not.”
“Tell her to stay on topic.”
Pak nodded and issued the order into the microphone of his headset. On the monitor, Lin tilted her head, a sign she had received Pak’s instructions.
But instead of heeding the order, she said, “In fact, my research uncovered that it had been in the hands of the US government during the time your husband was comatose. But when he awoke six years later, both he and the mini vanished.”
Jiaolong felt a flash of anger at her impertinence. “Give me your headset,” he said to Pak. Pak was reaching up to comply when Zhin appeared and stayed his hand. Min stood beside her.
“What’s the harm?” Zhin asked. She leaned forward and switched off the volume to the live feed.
“So now you’re interested?”
“I’ve never been uninterested,” she said. “We’ve simply been focused on other arrangements. But sister Lin did a wonderful job obtaining the footage we needed, did she not?”
“Of course, but—”
“So I asked her to make a few additional inquiries outside the script,” Zhin continued. “After all, everything has come together so wonderfully.” She softened her expression, and for a moment he was reminded that she was every bit as beautiful as dear Lin.
Min added a sultry smile of her own. “It’s for a little victory surprise we have planned for later. Will you allow us that?”
He hesitated, taken aback by their behavior. But he admitted to himself that they were right. Everything was coming together nicely and they’d acquired all the footage they needed. The final video would be a masterpiece.
He studied the two women. Their expressions remained soft and inviting, and he felt an unexpected flush of desire. He blinked, turned away, took a breath.
“Very well,” he said to Pak. “Give her another half hour. Then send the guards to bring her back.”
He turned back to the sisters. “So, have the rumors been planted in the village? Is everything ready for Mr. Bronson’s arrival?”
The sisters spoke in unison. “Yes.”
Both of them smiled.
Chapter 19
Yóulóng Village
JAKE LOWERED THE BINOCULARS. He and the others were crouched on the ridgeline, stretched out beneath the canopy of a vine-covered tree. The ancient village below them was nestled in the cramped embrace of a rolling jungle landscape, the wooden structures connected to each other by an expanse of peaked rooftops that spiraled outward around a towering central temple. Smoke snaked from chimneys. A river flowed along one side of the community, cascading down the steppes as it made its way down the valley to melt into the distant canopy of trees. The sun was setting. Men rolled up fishing nets along the bank, and a line of women wearing coolie hats traced a path from the soybean crops on the opposite ridge to the bridge leading them home.
Dolphin had said the village was home to two hundred families. It was a peaceful scene untouched by time, Jake thought, until his gaze dropped to the modern campus abutting the southern edge of the hamlet. It was dominated by a square, four-story office building that wrapped around an open courtyard garden with a pagoda-style gazebo at its center. A number of smaller structures surrounded the building and it had its own private airport. Jake spotted a helicopter, two small Cessnas, and an old C-130 Airlifter. A half dozen cars and trucks were in the parking lot but there wasn’t much activity. A golf cart rolled out from one of the two hangars and headed toward the main building. It drove between the stone remnants of an ancient wall that stretched across the valley floor, where Jake suspected the wall provided an effective defense against raiders. He imagined it had remained untouched because of its historical significance to the residents. A stone longhouse stretched along the village side of the wall. A new wing had been added to one end and the entire structure had been fitted with a new roof.
“East meets West,” Lacey said.
Pete pointed to the towering peaks surrounding the valley. “Secure place to settle two or three thousand years ago. Protected on three sides by the terrain, and a choke point where the river leaves the valley.”
“Yeah,” Marshall said. “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid had the same kind of hideaway, but remember what happened to them?” He turned to Shamer and Dolphin, who were huddled over Shamer’s tablet. “Reception okay?” Marshall asked.
Shamer pointed to a communications tower rising from the top of the central building. “Excellent. The village may be thousands of years old, but you can bet that DarkMatter has it plugged in.” She turned the tablet around to reveal a satellite image of their location. “The image isn’t real time, of course, but we can still use it to keep track of everybody. Let’s link up.” She tapped the screen.
Marshall pulled out one of the smartphones Feng had acquired for them. Everyone else did the same. “Click this,” he said, pointing to an application on his home screen. A thumbprint registration screen popped up and everyone followed the instructions to personalize the app. “If anyone tries to access this app but you, the program will autodestruct.”
When everyone was registered, Marshall pointed to an icon on the submenu. “Now tap this here.” Jake touched the icon and the satellite image appeared on his phone.
“Got you,” Shamer said, as a cluster of green icons appeared on the ridgeline depicted on the satellite shot. “Now we can all keep track of one another. Cool?”
“Very cool,” Skylar said, in a dramatized Chinese accent. She looked every bit the local peasant, with a black wig over tanned and weathered skin, hooded eyes, dark contacts, and a broad nose. Pete and Lacey had helped her prep the disguise on the long drive, the trio calling on their combined experience on the receiving end of hair and makeup on movie sets. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do. The baggy pants, tunic, and coolie outfit completed Skylar’s disguise. Pete and Jake wore the same outfits, though their makeup made them look more like hardened criminals than farmers. The rest of them were dressed in dark fatigues.
Jake confirmed the tracking system was working on his screen. Dolphin had explained they wouldn’t be able to use the phones to communicate with one another, because calls or texts from an unregistered device inside the range of the tower would instantly trigger alarms and isolate the user’s location.
You can use it once to text Pete the go signal, he’d said. That’ll identify your location but not Pete’s. So when you do it, drop the phone and start running.
That would have to do. Going into a mission like this without comms was dicey, but keeping track of everyone’s position would be a big help. Jake pocketed the phone and brought the binoculars back up to his eyes. “Where are the soldiers?”
“Good que
stion,” Pete said, studying the layout. “Wherever they are, ye can bet they’ll come running when Sky and I are done doing our thing. They could be holed up in there.” He pointed at the longhouse. “Looks like a barracks.”
Jake saw a couple golf carts parked beside it. Three men strode past. They wore the regimented black slacks and white shirts he’d seen inside the Hong Kong building. They were likely some of the yellows the teens had talked about. “I don’t see any weapons.”
Skylar said, “Then the sooner we move, the better.”
Jake nodded, swiveling the lens toward a cluster of homes on the near edge of the village. That was their target. According to the kids, that’s where BlackFlag’s mother lived. Dolphin had called her from Hong Kong to deliver the news about her son. He’d told her the whole story, and to the woman’s credit, she’d accepted the news stoically. She was expecting them, eager to help bring down the people who had murdered her child. A lot was riding on the assumption that the woman might have a clue about where Francesca and the children were being held. Otherwise, they were going in blind.
Jake had checked in with Doc when they were in Hong Kong, and Jake had been thankful to learn that Eloise was going to be fine. Doc had heaved a sigh of relief when Jake filled him in on everything. Doc’s role at DARPA—and his close relationship with the current administration—placed him in an ideal position to provide assistance. But when Jake had explained they were heading into mainland China, the silence on the other end of the line had pretty much said it all. US intelligence assets in China were limited, Doc had explained. That hadn’t bothered Jake because it wasn’t the US intelligence service he was interested in. It was the Chinese leadership. When he’d explained what he wanted, Doc had said it couldn’t be done. Relations between the US and Chinese governments were strained at best. Then Jake had told him about Passcode and the names that had been on the final game board, several of whom had top-secret access to Chinese government networks. That had gotten Doc’s attention, and he promised to see what could be done.
That had been fifteen hours ago. Jake pulled a satellite phone from the side pocket of his cargo pants and dialed.
Doc picked up on the first ring. “Dammit, Jake. All hell is breaking loose over here! The Chinese are furious that we won’t provide them with a specific location, and the president is all over me. He wants to speak to you immediately. Let me connect—”
“Don’t bother, Doc,” Jake said. “I only talk to you. And I’m not giving up our location until I’m good and ready.” Not until my loved ones are out of harm’s way. “Have the Chinese mobilized like I requested?”
“Yes, but—”
“No buts, Doc. Are they ready?”
“The PLA Air Force’s 15th Airborne Corps is standing by at a base in central Fujian province.”
Jake checked his watch. “Tell them to take off and proceed to the following initial point.” He pulled the GPS coordinates from memory and rattled them off, hesitating when he got to the last few digits. He turned to Marshall, held out his hand. Marshall pulled a slip of paper from his pocket and handed it over. Jake’s gut tightened as he scanned the coordinates, realizing he’d transposed several of the digits. “Check that, Doc. Let’s start over.” He read the coordinates from the paper.
Marshall’s eyes narrowed. “You okay?”
Jake ignored him, speaking into the phone. “Tell them to take off and hold over that position until I get back to you with the final location.”
“They’re not going to like that one bit. How long are they supposed to fly around in circles?”
“Not sure. But tell them to bring tanker support. Just in case.”
“Jake, this is not going to fly with the Chinese. You’re in their country, for God’s sake. Now, listen to me very carefully. The president of the United States still has authority over you as a former officer in the US Air Force, and he has issued you a direct order to—”
Jake severed the connection and pocketed the phone.
When a man knows his time is up, free will is the only authority that matters.
He went over the plan in his mind. It was filled with holes, but with some luck it just might work. He’d arranged it so that he was taking most of the risks. If something happened to him, Marshall and Lacey had the second sat phone and it would be up to them to call in the troops.
Feng and his man had remained with the trucks a couple hundred meters back, hidden in the trees along an offshoot of the potholed road they’d used to get here. Jake, Pete, Sky, and the teens would proceed to the village on foot. The steeply sloped jungle between here and there appeared impassable, but Dolphin had assured Jake there was a way down.
BlackFlag brought us up here after his father’s funeral, Dolphin had said. It had been their favorite spot.
Jake turned to see the others waiting on his lead.
He placed one hand on Marshall’s shoulder, the other on Lacey’s. “You two are on overwatch. Keep your heads low but don’t take your eyes off what’s going on down there. We’re counting on you.”
Lacey squeezed his arm. “Find them, Jake. And be careful.”
“We’ve got your back,” Marshall said.
“I know.”
He nodded to Dolphin. “Lead the way.” The boy set off with Shamer. Jake, Pete, and Sky grabbed their weapons and followed, picking their way through the dense foliage as night fell.
Chapter 20
Fujian Province
IT HAD BEEN A LONG and slow drive through the mountains. The seldom used dirt roads from the monastery to the village were in drastic need of repair, and the old panel truck swerved from side to side as Little Star did his best to avoid the deep ruts and holes.
Despite the rough ride, my body had finally given out and I’d slept most of the way. So had my brother and sister. Little Star had woken us a few minutes ago, and I was grateful for the fruit and water he’d offered us before continuing down the road.
I sat next to the monk on a torn bucket seat, bouncing up and down on squeaky springs. The truck’s dim headlights jiggled and danced on the road ahead, flickering off a neverending overhang of dense foliage. It was hot and muggy and the air smelled like an overripe head of lettuce. The truck didn’t have any seatbelts, so I clung to a cracked leather hand strap that was bolted into the door.
Little Star had told us what he knew about the people who seemed to be in charge of things in his old village. The short version was that they’d been received with open arms by the villagers because of their generosity. But during Little Star’s infrequent visits with his mother and nephew, he’d seen change after change in their valley and had grown uneasy, sensing there was far more going on than what met the eye.
I’d done a lot of thinking during the ten-hour drive. I didn’t talk much, but that didn’t mean my mind wasn’t always racing. Dad said I had the ability to process information ten times faster than others. It worried me. I’d read that nature has a way of creating balance, and I wondered sometimes what price I was going to have to pay in return for my unusual gifts. I sensed my mom had been worried about that, too, especially lately. But that wasn’t what I’d been thinking about on the trip. My mind was on something else.
Killing.
I’d thought about the bears, and how easily their captors abused them and tossed aside their carcasses, and the rage I’d felt toward those men. Then I’d remembered the pilots and guards who’d died in the plane crash because Ahmed had drugged their tea. Did they have wives or children like me and Sarafina and Ahmed? But if we hadn’t drugged them, where would we be now? Locked in dirty cells? Maybe dead? Taking their lives had saved ours. I had no doubt there were very real consequences to taking a life. What I’d learned, though, was that sometimes the consequences of not taking a life were just as real.
My hesitation on the bridge had cost Uncle Timmy his life. It was a guilt I’d carry with me forever. But when Little Star had taken those same lives I’d spared, including his own brother’s, the
rest of us had been saved. And although the monk had been pained by what he’d done—and had even lost his home and friends at the monastery as a result—he didn’t regret it.
I imagined my dad would have done the same thing, not just for his own kids but for anyone in need of help. I was proud of him for it. We were all proud of him.
So killing isn’t always wrong. That’s the lesson I’d learned. Sometimes it’s a necessity. Sometimes killing a few can save hundreds. In the case of the thousand or more lives Dad had taken by blowing up the island two years ago, he’d saved every other man, woman, and child on the planet.
“Ouch!” Sarafina cried out, scattering my thoughts as we bounced over a pothole. I turned around to see her crouched in the rear bed, gripping one of the truck’s wooden side slats with one hand and rubbing her bottom with the other. “Can’t we go any slower? My butt’s killing me.”
“Don’t you believe in shocks in this country?” Ahmed added. He was wedged in the opposite corner, legs spread to brace himself.
Little Star’s eyes twinkled. “In your country, people pay to have their bodies rubbed and thumped. Here, it is free. In any case, the village is just over the next rise.”
Chapter 21
Yóulóng Village
JAKE WAS IN THE CLUTCHES of a fierce bear hug—from a sprite of a woman. When BlackFlag’s mother finally pulled away, she gave him a fierce gaze and said, “You call me Ma.” Her English was heavily accented. She turned to the others. “Same for all,” she said, her voice stern. “Ma, yes?” Everyone nodded. She turned back to Jake, studied his altered features, and smacked his shoulder. “You ugly. Fit well here.”
Jake loved her right away, even though she wouldn’t let him get a word in as she explained the lay of the land. She spoke in rapid-fire Chinese. Dolphin translated.
“She says Jiaolong and a large contingent arrived yesterday. There’d been much activity through the night, and she was awakened early in the morning by the rumble of vehicles departing the valley, including Jiaolong’s SUV. She thinks only a scattered few remain behind, including a detachment of guards at the barracks.”
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