“I gotta get back to work. Can I come see you at the farm and hang out sometime?”
“Sure. An agent will be there since they’re with me day and night, I mean right outside the house. Solarez is freaked out about the news leak.”
“And for good reason. Somebody wanted that story out, hopefully we’ll find out who and why soon.” As David says this, he wonders if there are parts of the truth Amanda has not shared with him.
Chapter 7
Embassy
Jiang is focused on the four computer monitors in front of him when his supervisor, Chun, appears in the doorway.
“Lee-Chai wants to meet with us in five minutes."
"I'm sure he saw the news this morning. It wasn’t us."
"We will explain everything then.”
The two of them are seated at a round conference table in the large open office of Ambassador Lee-Chai in the Chinese Embassy off Massachusetts Avenue in Washington, DC. Ambassador Lee-Chai’s deputy chief sits on one side of him, and on the other side sits Jang-Chung. They all greet Jiang and Chun as they enter the room, Jiang towers over the barely five foot Chun.
Jang-Chung, the man with the Ambassador, acts as the lead Chinese liaison with the Department of Justice and was the negotiator of the secret Hemispheres crash agreement between China and the U.S.
"Gentlemen, you realize this news all over the American media is a problem. The U.S. could decide to release damaging information about the crash. Or the American press could discover the jet’s electrical system was tampered with. Or that our nation was trying to steal their biological information. Where did this story come from?" The Ambassador demands.
"Not from anyone connected with the embassy. None of our people would do this," Chun replies.
"This is an effort to embarrass the People's Republic," the ambassador barks at them. "They're trying to make us look bad. How can you be certain we do not have a leak within our staff?”
"We received the last $25 million for following the agreement, and we do not want anyone claiming China had anything to do with it or the U.S. might ask us to pay it back." Jang-Chung explains. He personally negotiated with Stein from the Department of Justice to swap various people being held by each country. The deal gave the U.S. the option to trade in yuan at a higher valuation, which ultimately permitted the U.S. to recoup the millions they secretly funneled to the airline to keep the sensitive matter quiet.
"I don' t believe the U.S. would leak this. Some other nation planted the story to embarrass one of us, or some individual did it for financial gain.”
No one mentions the issue was sensitive enough that a mercenary contractor had terminated Kent Perless over the issue—he was planning to go to the press with the theory the Chinese had sabotaged the jet.
Jiang speaks up. “Even if no one in the PRC did it, the U.S. may still blame us, especially if the news keeps reporting on it. And we don’t want them digging too much. We need to find the source so we can be sure nothing else will become public.”
"Agreed. Your group needs to monitor the internet to determine any possible source of this disclosure. Chun, the premier asked that we use all available resources to secure timely updates about the American telomere research. What about your asset at the Sherwood lab?"
"Yes, we think we can turn the researcher we have targeted, although we have not tried to get information yet. We need to have a special assignment, and the time is not yet right.” Chun smiles. "The Americans think they fooled everyone, but they are wrong. We initiated a spear phish that embedded a remote access tool, which can quickly exit when any real-time security systems might detect it. This gives us access to the research lab server almost whenever we need it.”
Jiang says: “Sir, I want authority to surveil Amanda and Andy Michaels. If you consider the sources of this leak, she clearly meets the parameters. Her uncle is more unlikely, but we cannot be sure. I want to monitor their mobile devices; we can hack into their cell phones and wi-fi routers.”
“We cannot use any of our assets for such a risky operation.” Jang-Chung protests.
The ambassador raises his arm with his palm facing out. "No more details. So long as none of our agents are required to personally enter their residences, I will approve the surveillance you propose. I trust you will get results. That will be all for now."
Chapter 8
Anonymous
Steve Solarez hates missing his lunchtime workouts. He leaves no time for a regular lunch, often grabbing a sandwich on his way back to the office. His favorite haunts: the downtown YMCA and Manhattan Deli, just a block from FBI headquarters.
Standing beside the treadmill, he scrolls through his personal cell phone looking for a playlist. He hits shuffle and the first track begins: Growin' Up by Springsteen. “I took month-long vacations in the stratosphere….”
After working out and showering, he heads for the deli where the owner, cooks, and servers all recognize him. He orders his regular pastrami and Swiss on rye with spicy mustard and scrolls through his emails while he waits.
“You’re all set.”
Grabbing his sandwich with a quick wave of thanks and heading out the door, he’s halfway down the block before he notices the folded piece of paper resting between a napkin and the edge of the bag. What’s this? he thinks, pulling it out and unfolding it. The non-descript font reads:
Agent Solarez:
I work for the Chinese Government in the Embassy. I have valuable information regarding Ron Michaels and his son, which I'm willing to provide in exchange for fair compensation. I will email exact instructions to your personal account. Once I receive the first transfer of $50,000.00 USD, I will provide a portion of my information. Each subsequent payment will result in additional intelligence.
Sincerely,
X
Solarez does a slow 360, looking at the other people on the street who aren't paying any attention to him. He heads back to the deli, but no one has any idea how the note got in his bag.
There is an extremely small number of people in the world who know Ron Michaels didn’t perish in the Hemispheres crash, and fewer still who are aware of Justin. Solarez concludes whoever wrote the note has knowledge of Michaels’ telomere research, maybe even where he’s hidden. Making his way out of the parking garage, he considers not only the source of information, but also whether an agent inside the Chinese Embassy would take this risk. If this is for real, this could be a counter-intelligence coup. But it might be a ruse, the Chinese fishing for intel.
This one goes straight to the director and Isaacson. It’s way above my pay grade.
Chapter 9
Becca’s
Just before noon, Andy texts Becca to say he’s on his way and heads out of his office, up to M Street, and over to Wisconsin. The sun directly overhead radiates intense heat, so he loosens his tie as he jaywalks across the road. A long horn blast from a cab startles him, but he quickly realizes it’s not directed at him. He looks up at the familiar "Becca's" sign before pulling the door open. A chime rings and he is enveloped by incense. Not seeing Rebecca right away, he walks past a customer and a pretty young clerk on his way to the cash register, then spots her.
"Are you ready?”
Things between them have been a little shaky as of late. For about 18 months they virtually lived together, but a couple months ago she started pressing him for a more substantial commitment. He loves her, no question in his mind, but he is still recovering after his divorce from Sarah and can’t get married again. Not yet, at least. Upon learning of his reluctance to move ahead in their relationship, Becca started staying more often at her small flat on Olive Street, blocks away from him. A breakup was never declared, and they still see each other fairly regularly, but she has made it clear she considers them no longer exclusive. A longtime yoga enthusiast, she began teaching classes twice a week at a popular studio in Georgetown. Her friends multiplied from there, and he noticed a marked decline in their time together, including overnights
.
"Sure, let me tell Andrea I'm heading out."
Moments later they walk north on Wisconsin toward Au Pied Du Cochon, a casual French restaurant.
"You didn't have to meet me today considering what's going on," Becca says.
"What am I going to do?"
Her hand reaches out instinctively for his to reassure him. "It was all over the news this morning. Is it true? Did the U.S. pay hush money? And why?”
He knows part of it is true, but he was never told the amount.
"I don't know what to believe, but I guarantee I settled every one of those claims legitimately."
"I’m sure you did. But if something went wrong with the jet, why would the U.S. give the airline money?"
Andy doesn't respond as his thoughts turn to his former clients and his meetings with Attorney Stein from the Department of Justice, who told him the government paid off Hemispheres to keep the national security part of the story confidential. It could become a huge scandal, like the Iran-Contra affair. No, he thinks, there’s actually a big difference between the CIA using illegal drug profits to support rebels in Iran and them trying to stop China from stealing biomedical secrets.
"Andy, you didn't answer me." Becca pulls him from his thoughts.
“I'm not sure if the story is true, and I can't say anything until…"
"Until when? The media is blowing up over this. And I bet they're blowing up your phone too."
He needs to contact Stein to see what, if anything, he can do to keep him out of this ethical quagmire. Maybe national security trumps everything, even him having to talk to the press and being questioned about his ethics.
They haven't been seated five minutes when Andy feels his cell phone vibrating. A picture of Perry Carson appears. No way I’m talking to a reporter now. After the waiter takes their order and they hand over their menus, he texts him back.
Not now. Later.
He finally responds to Becca’s question, "I'm going to talk to a few of my government contacts."
"Well, what if they did give them the money? Will all the cases get reopened? Are you going to file a new lawsuit? You better be prepared to protect yourself and the firm.”
Sue the U.S.? Stein and the DOJ would go absolutely bonkers. Not a chance. As far as my reputation goes, hmm.
"I don't know where this is going. Let’s talk about something else, okay? How are things with the shop?"
“Fine, except I need to hire a new weekend part-timer. Ashley gave me notice, she’s moving to San Francisco. Oh, I found a dress for the gala.”
Andy barely hears her, but it reminds him they are going to the big DC Bar Association see-and-be-seen soiree. Not exactly good timing.
“Great, what color? I’m looking forward to seeing it.”
Faking his way through the rest of lunch, Andy wonders whether or not his law practice will implode.
Chapter 10
Meeting Stein
The cab pulls up in front of the Robert F. Kennedy Department of Justice building at 950 Pennsylvania Avenue. Andy Michaels shoves the earbuds into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He had been listening to a peaceful acoustic piano playlist, trying to calm himself on the way to his meeting with Brett Stein, his DOJ attorney contact. Stepping away from the cab onto the sidewalk, he momentarily gazes up at the four huge pillars forming the facade of the building before entering. After clearing security, he makes his way to Stein's office where they shake hands and head to an expansive conference room with 16 chairs around an oversized table. The door sweeps closed, Andy sits down, and Stein takes his seat at the end closest to him.
"I specifically asked you before our deal was signed if you were going to protect me from any exposure if someone tried to say I conspired with the government on the Hemispheres crash. Now here I am, my integrity impugned and my law practice in ruins.”
“We haven't breached anything, and I can’t keep someone from illegally leaking information. All I can do is try to uncover the source of the leak. Unless you’ve got another idea," Stein challenges.
"Actually I do. If this is really a national-security-threatening classified secret, which you told me it was when we made this deal, the government can shut this thing down, and fast."
“We are already running down all leads--…” But Andy cuts him off.
"My reputation is being trashed. Are you following the news? ‘Michaels conspired with the government.’ ‘Michaels withheld evidence from his clients.’ How can I fight back when I’m under a confidentiality agreement and you're supposed to be protecting me?"
"I understand your pain, and we're going to do everything we can."
"Oh yeah, how are you going to compensate me for my reputation? If you were a potential client thinking of retaining an attorney, would you call me with this going on? Hell no!"
“I'm meeting with the U.S. attorneys who’ll be handling our defense. I think we’ll able to pay for your lawyer per the confidentiality agreement, but we have to keep that confidential also.”
"That's the first almost positive thing I've heard in all this mess. Who’ll defend me?”
"Probably a former assistant U.S. attorney we feel comfortable with who’s now in private practice. We'll share the information under a joint defense arrangement so they understand the background and maintain its confidentiality as attorney-client privilege."
"Okay, please tell me who you propose as soon as possible. I need to go practice some law, what’s left to practice anyway. What a goddam mess."
Minutes later Andy makes his way to the first floor and walks out to find a taxi. He scrolls through his text messages and notices one from his ex-wife.
Please give me a call as soon as you can. About calls for congressional investigation.
He looks around for a corner or a quiet spot so he can call Sarah, who is also the top administrative assistant to Senator Mike Pierce. Congressional investigation?
Sarah picks up after a couple rings.
"Thanks for calling me back. Let me go close the door.” Andy hears her moving around. “I wanted to call you because the senator said the caucus has a lot of constituents demanding an investigation of the Hemisphere's crash. He asked me to call you, obviously because of our relationship, to find out whatever I could. Tell me this is wild overreaching by the press."
"I don’t have a lot to tell. I'm going to defend this, get it dismissed, and there's nothing to it. I had no information about this alleged government payment when I was working on the wrongful death cases for my clients. Is there something specific you were hoping to find out?"
"Well, strictly between us, did the government pay $200 million to Hemispheres?"
Andy pauses briefly. "Sarah, I can't say anything right now. I would if I could."
She takes his hesitation as a sign there may be some truth to the stories.
"Could you recommend anyone at the Department of Justice to talk to?"
"Sure, Brett Stein. He knows what's going on. I'm just between a rock and a hard place."
Sarah can detect the intense anxiety in her ex's voice so she doesn't press further. Andy adds one more thing, unsolicited.
"I am completely innocent and will be exonerated from any wrongdoing, but you wouldn’t believe what this is doing to my reputation and my practice."
"I can only imagine. But a number of senators are making noise about committee hearings on this, the same ones who always claim big government is spending taxpayer money for the wrong reasons, and they are like junkyard dogs on this $200 million payoff. I can try to persuade Senator Pierce none of it is true, but not the other senators, even if I think you’re innocent.”
"Thanks. If I can tell you more soon, I will."
He shoves the phone back into his pocket and heads to the street to hail a cab.
When did my life get so complicated, he wonders.
Chapter 11
The Note
The FBI director studies the now unfolded note, lays it on his desk, and loo
ks at Solarez.
"We’re treating this as legitimate until proven otherwise. Take it down to forensics. They won’t find prints except yours, but they can check the source of the paper. Font style too, I guess, for whatever that might tell us, which will probably be nothing, but 20 different computer manufacturers, if not all of them. Get the customer and employee information from the deli for the day you found the note and the day before, and all surveillance footage for the same time. A pro would realize we’re going to check all this, but it’s the only approach I can think of. Maybe they slipped up somehow.”
"Who's going to notify the CIA director, you or me?”
"You can. Are you sure you can’t reach back out to the source somehow?”
"Except going back to the deli like usual and hoping I catch him leaving another note, no. I'll be hearing from him by email, just like he said.”
"If or when he does contact you, make him believe you're interested. Ask him for information about how to wire the money and press him for why the info is so valuable. Then contact me for the authorization."
"The bureau will pay the 50 grand?”
"Depends. We’re not paying 50 grand only for the Michaels information. If we pay, and I'm not saying we will, it would be for whatever other intel he might have. Never doubt the potential value of a double agent. Of course, the note could be a complete sham too.” The FBI director mindlessly folds the 8½-by-11 sheet of paper back into eighths. He unfolds it again, thinking about the ramifications if the note is legit.
Targeting the Telomeres, A Thriller Page 4
