by Andrew Watts
“Tough crowd.”
Tetsuo smiled. “There are a lot of etiquette rules here.”
“I guess so.”
Tetsuo gestured for Chase to head down the narrow hallway. “First door on the left.”
Tetsuo opened the door, and a diminutive Asian man wearing a suit stood and bowed at them. GIANT.
“Dr. Wang.” Tetsuo bowed and said something in a deep, rapid flurry of Mandarin. He gestured to Chase, who bowed awkwardly and then stuck out his hand.
The man looked like he was in his late fifties. Maybe early sixties. Gaunt features. Steady eyes. He bowed slightly and shook Chase’s hand, then looked expectantly at Tetsuo.
Tetsuo said, “Let’s have a seat.”
On what? Chase thought to himself. The room was empty except for a little six-inch high coffee table and a small green plant in the corner.
But then they all sat down on the floor—a tatami mat, he realized. Tetsuo and the aging Chinese man sat gracefully, folding their knees underneath themselves and continuing their conversation in Mandarin with the slightest hint of a smile as they spoke.
Chase, an ex-lacrosse player and well-muscled man, forced himself to sit Indian style, his knees jutting up uncomfortably. It wasn’t working. He rearranged himself up on his knees, but then he was a foot higher than the others. He finally sat on his butt, with his socked feet flat on the floor, holding his knees for balance—he felt like a kindergartener.
Tetsuo glanced at him, visibly annoyed. “You alright?”
“Fine.”
He sighed and resumed conversing in Mandarin. Issuing an apology for his idiotic American friend, no doubt. Who the hell sat on the floor? And how were they both able to fold their legs so effortlessly? Didn’t they have groin muscles?
A few times during the conversation, Tetsuo made audible changes to his tone, which indicated surprise and interest. It was killing Chase not to ask what the hell they were talking about. It had been fifteen minutes now, and he had yet to provide a translation. All Chase could make out was the occasional English-sounding acronym and once—he wasn’t completely sure—he thought he’d heard them say “Jinshan.”
Finally, Tetsuo turned to Chase, his eyes narrowing. “Do you speak Chinese?”
“No,” Chase said. “Of course not.”
Tetsuo leaned toward Chase, speaking quietly. “Then why haven’t you said anything? What have you been doing this whole time?”
“You said to be quiet,” Chase whispered back.
Tetsuo looked at Dr. Wang, who smiled. Tetsuo looked pained. “Forgive us. We will continue in English, if you please.”
Chase reddened.
“Dr. Wang is here in Japan with a Chinese envoy, accompanying Secretary Zhang, whom he works for. President Wu has decided to make Cheng Jinshan and Admiral Song’s trial public, as a way to provide maximum impact in reducing Jinshan’s power.”
Dr. Wang said, “He hopes this public trial will serve as a turning point.”
Chase said, “The two are in jail.”
“Yes, but unfortunately, Jinshan still wields influence. Jails for the Chinese elite are not the same as jails for the commoners, I’m afraid. Jinshan has many friends, even now. But Secretary Zhang and President Wu are working to curb that remaining power.”
Tetsuo turned between Chase and GIANT. He said, “Dr. Wang, we are concerned that some of Jinshan’s military plans may still be in motion. What are you seeing on your end?”
Dr. Wang said, “Secretary Zhang and President Wu have been forced to send out inspection teams to various locations. Men that they trust. Because like you, we are also getting reports that Jinshan’s men are still operating under his separate instructions.”
“What have the inspectors seen?”
“Nothing that provides evidence of a continued conspiracy. Each place they go, teams loyal to Jinshan or Admiral Song are there already. Records have been cleaned up. Factories and military bases made to look appropriate. Without Jinshan tried and convicted, he is too powerful to entrap. All we have are rumors and secondhand reports.”
“Well, what do those say?”
GIANT’s face went dark. “That the island is still operational. That factories in Guangzhou are pumping out militarized shipping containers. That the air force has been training for a classified mission. That some of our most elite special operations groups are at a secret base in Liaoning—training for a mission that Jinshan commissioned.”
Chase had read the reports while at Langley. This was what they were hoping to find out about.
“What are they doing at Liaoning?”
“We don’t know. But my sources tell me that it is very important to Jinshan. There are two locations that seem to be central planning centers for his operation. The island is one. The special operations training camp at Liaoning is the other.”
Tetsuo said, “Dr. Wang, how is it that you don’t know if any of this is true or not? Why haven’t your inspections identified—”
Chase saw a flash of frustration. “Excuse me, young man, but things are not so simple right now. The Chinese people are angry, and so are many of the politicians. There are some who say that Jinshan was the one who was protecting China from Western hostilities. Many military leaders and politicians are openly supportive of Jinshan, even now. Others pledge loyalty to Wu, but we suspect they are secretly working for Jinshan. It is difficult to know who can be trusted in this environment. As head of the Central Committee for Discipline Inspection, he helped to place many of these politicians in their current roles. And do not forget, Cheng Jinshan controlled much of the censorship for state media.”
“Controlled or controls?”
GIANT shrugged. “Who can say for sure? But if you control the censoring agency, you control the message. You shape opinions. There is a great anti-Western sentiment among many Chinese right now. It is not easy to choose the unpopular path in a communist state. The populace gets their news and opinions from social media and state news on their phones. The 3PLA has programs that control what articles are posted and shared on these platforms. Guess whose company monitors those programs?”
“Jinshan.”
Wang nodded. “President Wu was wrong to trust him. The Central Committee allowed Jinshan to become too powerful. Now, we are all paying the price.” He paused. “But there is something else. Another reason that it is hard to know whether Jinshan’s operations are still being conducted.”
“What reason is that?”
“Cheng Jinshan practices compartmentalization to the extreme. He segments up his teams and decentralizes command. Apart from Jinshan, Admiral Song, and Lena Chou, there were almost no personnel—at least that we are aware of—who were versed in all of Jinshan’s day-to-day operations.”
“So you have Jinshan and Admiral Song.”
“They are not cooperating.”
“What about Lena Chou? Do you know where she is?” Chase said, leaning forward.
Dr. Wang looked confused. “You haven’t heard? Lena Chou is dead.”
Chase felt oddly numb. While he no longer harbored the same feelings for Lena Chou that he once had, the news was shocking.
Tetsuo glanced at Chase, then said, “This is the first we are hearing of this. Can you elaborate?”
Dr. Wang went on to tell of a Chinese satellite intercepting a radio transmission in the Eastern Pacific. The intelligence organization concluded that Lena Chou had attempted to escape from Chinese military police by hitching a ride out of the region with Colombian drug smugglers.
Wang said, “There was some sort of gang war between rival smugglers. A gunfight on the boat. It is our understanding that Lena was killed on board. This is the information we have received from the Colombians, and…”—he looked embarrassed—“and by looking at reports from your own agencies. Your Coast Guard is investigating the matter.”
Tetsuo and Chase looked at each other. Chinese cyberoperations were reviewing US government reports in search of Lena Chou.
> Tetsuo said, “Do you have any way to verify that she is really dead?”
“Chinese intelligence is attempting to do so now. Secretary Zhang and President Wu had seen Lena Chou as a potential ‘star witness’ in the case against Jinshan. Although she would not be likely to testify against him, the information that she knows could be very useful as we put a stop to any of Jinshan’s ongoing plans.”
“And now?”
“If Lena Chou is truly dead, this will be much more difficult, for reasons already stated.”
Tetsuo looked frustrated. “Is there a way that you can get us more solid information on these rumored military training operations?”
GIANT looked unsettled. “I have given this much thought. If I were to go myself, under the authority of Secretary Zhang, perhaps I could inspect one of the two locations—either the camp at Liaoning or the island.”
Tetsuo shook his head. “That sounds too dangerous. You shouldn’t be the one—”
GIANT held up his hand. “The inspectors we are sending are turning up nothing. No one wants to stick their neck out because Jinshan is still too dangerous. But he will go to trial soon. His power will recede. If I could conduct a surprise inspection during Jinshan’s trial, then I could provide you with the information which you desire. I could tell you how deep his conspiracy goes. And whether there are any remaining military plans in progress.”
Tetsuo looked at Chase, who nodded. “Okay. Thank you, Dr. Wang. I will speak with my superiors and get their thoughts. I will meet with you once more tomorrow evening.”
After transmitting their reports to Langley that evening, Chase and Tetsuo ate dinner in Osaka.
“You drinking?” Tetsuo’s mood was much more light-hearted now that the work was done. They sat on pillows on the floor, thin wooden walls on three sides giving them privacy. An open curtain revealed dozens of similar tables. Well-dressed Japanese businessmen and women, done with the day’s work at the early hour of 10 p.m., were out on the town, ready for cocktails and fine cuisine.
Chase’s legs were once again squeezed at impossible angles underneath the table—it couldn’t have been more than a foot off the ground. Why didn’t they use chairs in this country?
“I think I’ll need some alcohol to get over the pain in my legs from all this yoga you people have been making me do.”
Tetsuo smiled. “So I take it you’ve never been to Japan.”
“Never been to Asia, actually. Well, not this part of Asia.”
“You’ve been in the sandbox, though, right?”
“Yeah. Spent all my operational time there with the teams and then with the Agency.”
“Teams? Like, the SEAL teams?”
“Yes.”
“Nice. How does this compare?”
“This? This is very different. But it’s interesting work, and I’m trying to learn as fast as I can.”
The waitress came and Tetsuo ordered for them. Chase had looked at the menu, but everything was in Japanese. A minute later she brought two frosted mugs and filled them with bubbling golden lager. The bottle said Asahi. Chase took a sip and gave a nod of approval.
“Cheers. Welcome to Japan.”
“Thank you. I was worried you were going to make me drink sake. I’ve had that. Don’t care for it much.”
“No, actually, we start with beer here. It is the Japanese way.”
The waitress came back a moment later and laid down a cubic stone that looked like a miniature castle tower. She lit the gas flame in the center of the stone and placed a metal grate on top. Next she placed a plate of assorted raw seafood on the table. She then smiled, bowed, and left them.
Tetsuo said, “You gotta use your chopsticks and just place the meat on the grill. Let it cook for a minute and then eat. We’ll have several courses, so save room. The best stuff is coming later. The Kobe beef is unbelievable here. They just give you little morsels, but the way they cook it, and the quality—it wins awards.”
Chase fumbled around with the chopsticks and eventually got a few pieces of a translucent white meat on the grill. “What is this stuff?”
“It’s the fin of a ray.”
“No shit? Like a manta ray?”
“Yeah. Or maybe a stingray. I forget. But it’s really good.”
Chase sipped his beer while he let the ray cook. “How about you? What’s your story?”
“I entered the Agency right out of college. My fluency in Japanese and Chinese helped. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I love it. There’s nothing better than this game, I tell you what.”
Chase gripped a piece of cooked ray with his chopsticks and brought it to his mouth, taking a bite. “Damn. That is pretty good. It’s like salty beef jerky.”
“That’s a great description. Never heard that one.” He took another gulp of beer, finishing his glass. He signaled the waitress to come over and ordered another round.
After she left, Tetsuo lowered his voice and said, “So we’ve shot off our reports to Langley. We’ll wait and see what they want to do next. But my guess is that they’re going to want exactly what we asked for. Details and verification.”
Chase nodded. “Let me ask you something. You’ve had to learn about Cheng Jinshan, and you know the Asian geopolitical scene. What do you think is going on over there in Beijing right now? What’s going to happen with Jinshan’s trial?”
The waitress returned and brought two more beers. They waited until she departed before continuing their conversation.
Tetsuo said, “I’ve never seen it like this before. My sources in China say that they’re cracking down on religious groups, and on the information that’s filtering to their people, like never before. This anti-American, antireligion kick is pretty scary. They’ve always leaned atheist, from their communist roots. But China has a lot of traditional religions that influence their people as well. Taoism, Buddhism. This antireligion thing is different. It’s more like a nationalist sentiment than anything. Our analysts say that a lot of it stems from a big social network and news media propaganda push. But it’s hard to gauge how prevalent the feeling is without being on the street.”
“But we must have a lot of agents there, right?”
“We do. And we do get reports. Anecdotal stuff. But honestly, China has spent the last decade purging our agents over there. It was pretty bad there for a few years. We’ve had to rebuild our network from scratch. And it’s really dicey trying to gain access to their political and intelligence mindset.”
Chase said, “What’s your opinion?”
“Me? Shit.” He took another swig of beer. “This could be the conflict that shapes the next few decades. America and China have coexisted and mutually benefited from each other. But now that China is becoming more wealthy and powerful…”
“And what about Jinshan?”
“I just don’t know, man. But if they’re dragging him out in front of everyone for a public trial, I would think that his time is coming to an end.”
Chase felt a buzzing in his pocket. He pulled out his phone. It was a CIA-issued smartphone, with little capability other than sending and receiving encrypted phone calls and text.
CONTACT SILVERSMITH FROM SECURE LOCATION ASAP
Tetsuo saw his look. “What’s up?”
“Tell them to hurry up and send the Kobe beef. We gotta go.”
Susan and General Schwartz gave Chase and Tetsuo the details of the brief on video conference. A slightly buzzed Chase noted that his brother, David, was also at the table. An almost imperceptible nod between the two brothers was transmitted thousands of miles across the world on fiber-optic cables that had been specially laid by the NSA over a decade ago.
David looked good, Chase thought.
Susan looked worried. “I realize that parts of what I’m about to say will be highly unusual. But we commend you both on your recent operational achievements and are confident that you’ll be able to make this work.”
Outlining the plan took a little over an hour. It would i
nvolve coordination between an Air Force B-2 Spirit crew stationed at Guam, members of the 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment–Delta (known more commonly as Delta Force) stationed in Korea, and Chase.
Susan said, “We evaluated GIANT’s proposal that he be the one to inspect the camp. Frankly, we thought that was too risky. We would use GIANT only as a last resort.”
Tetsuo said, “Understood.”
They spoke for a few more minutes, going over timing and some of the details of the plan. When the video conference ended, Chase turned to Tetsuo. “So I guess I’ll be going to China.”
Shortly after their video call with Chase and Tetsuo, Susan hit David Manning with a new assignment.
“The Chinese think Lena Chou is dead.”
David nodded. “I read the report that they sent this morning.”
“And if you believe that, I’ve got a used car to sell you.”
“What are you talking about?” David asked.
“Come on, I’ll show you.” She walked into one of the enclosed huddle rooms in the CIA headquarters. One of the senior analysts was already in there.
“Last week we received a report from the NSA. They picked up a radio transmission matching Lena’s voice ID.”
David said, “Yeah. Near Ecuador. I remember.”
The analyst shook his head. “Not near Ecuador. Further north. Several hundred miles north.”
David looked at Susan, confused.
She was nodding. “Turns out that the most likely source of the radio transmission was a seized Colombian narcotics transport vessel. The Navy spotted it a few days after the radio transmission and conducted a boarding. A Coast Guard cutter came in to take over the investigation.”
