Amanda gets up and walks over to the now available sink. It’s tiny, like everything else, which allows four occupants to share this sleeper berth. There’s no mirror, just a small metallic plate that offers a little bit of a reflection, gives you the idea that you’re looking back at yourself.
What’s the point, you can’t make out any detail?
Chapter 86
Harbor Rat
Brittney Hayes, aka Elizabeth Gardner, listens intently to the CIA analyst in the small conference room at the U.S. Embassy in Beijing.
“Our informant at the Shen Zhen Harbor reported one of the harbor security guards turned up dead. His wallet and money were missing, which made it look like a robbery, but we sent an asset to check it out. He searched the last ferry to arrive and found two small duffels in one of the utility rooms below deck. Here are the pictures.”
He slides the laptop closer to Britt and she scans the photos. One shows female clothing spread out beside a duffel along with a small, plastic bag with pills inside.
"How do we know that's Amanda’s bag?"
"Solarez looked at the pictures and said those meds are Amanda’s. He compared them to images of some pills Ron Michaels had on his laptop in a file labeled ‘Amanda.’ His laptop was confiscated and combed through when he disappeared."
Britt stares at the picture a moment. "So what's this do for us? I guess I'm missing something."
"According to her dad's notes, Amanda needs these meds. You know he gave her treatments, right?”
"Sure, I knew he treated her when she was younger, but why would she be taking these pills now?"
“Because she can have all kinds of side effects if she doesn’t. We don't know for sure if she has more with her, but we have these." He sets the bag of pills from the photo on the table. "We had them overnighted here."
Britt lifts the bag and surveys the pills. "We’ve got to find her, which involves tracking down Liza Zhang first. She’ll lead us to them, or we’ll extract the information from her."
“Let me run down what we’ve got on her and where she’s been since she arrived in China,” the analyst tells Britt.
“I need that stat.” The Chinese-American analyst looks at her quizzically.
“That means now. I’ll be here working, get me what you can, and fast.”
Chapter 87
Checkers
Amanda walks through several cars before reaching the dining car. As she makes her way to the counter to order a cup of hot tea, she passes several tables and notices a family on her right—a dad, mom, and what appears to be about a 10-year-old boy and teenage girl. The kids are playing checkers.
The female behind the counter hands Amanda the tea and Amanda hands her a Chinese bill from the wad in the purse she acquired at the Shen Zhen station. She figures it also from the large sum of money she paid Ryan to help her on this mission. So far, she doesn’t have any regrets, Ryan has proven himself to be ultra-careful and well-prepared.
She walks back through the dining car to find an empty table and notices the game board still sitting where the girl and boy were playing, but the brother is gone, and a thin novel lays on the table beside the board. It's The Catcher in the Rye, and the cover is in English, which strikes her as odd. Amanda stops impulsively.
"Are you studying English?" She asks the girl.
The Chinese girl gives Amanda a funny look, then glances down at the paperback.
"Yes. This is my current assignment in English class. Do you know this book?" the girl replies in slow, but appropriate English.
"Of course. I mean, most people know that book in the U.S. Holden Caulfield is one of the greatest characters ever written." Amanda doesn’t mention it was on the bookshelf in Kent’s room, or that she read it after Kent died, taking notice of the sections he had highlighted with a yellow highlighter. Kent even talked about it once when they were together. Amanda has no idea if she had also read the book before the crash, but suspects she did because Kent said every U.S. high school English class does.
"Do you want to play checkers with me?"
"Sure.” Amanda sits down. “What page are you on in the book?"
The girl opens the paperback to a dog-eared page. "Page 79.”
“May I?” Amanda takes the book and flips to one of the parts she obsessed over and memorized in Kent’s room.
“‘I have to be the person watching them like if they're going to go over the cliff. I have to catch them before they do it. I'm like a catcher in the rye.’"
The teen looks at her quizzically.
“That's one of the best parts in the book. Holden feels like he must save all these young people before they go walking off a cliff. Anyway, what's your name?"
"An Ling."
"Nice to meet you, An Ling. I’m Rachel Michelin. Why don't you go first?" Amanda places her black checkers on the board; An does the same with the red and makes the first move.
In the middle of the game Amanda asks her whether those were her parents she was sitting with earlier. An says they were and that her brother is 10 years old, in admirable English. They’re all sharing a sleeper berth. She tells Amanda she hopes to come to the United States in the future and asks Amanda what the large letters mean on her shirt.
Amanda explains the “UVA” stands for University of Virginia and launches into the cover story Ryan went over with her until she was confident about it. The part about going to UVA for college is true, because she was a student there, but that’s pretty much it. Her fake persona is now employed by a computer company and is working on a contract involving server networking. An Ling turns out to be an excellent checkers player and handily defeats Amanda. As they set up for the next game, Ryan walks through the dining car and glances at Amanda with a disapproving look. Pursuant to his request, she does not acknowledge him as he walks by.
"If you ever come to the United States, you should visit Washington, DC and Charlottesville, Virginia, where I attended college. There are beautiful rolling hills there, horses, horse farms, and many things you would enjoy.” Amanda is careful with her English, knowing An is hanging on every word in an attempt to understand. She momentarily thinks to herself how it is unfair that most Americans have not even grasped a second language, while the Chinese people can not only speak English, one of the most difficult languages to learn, but many of them also learn a third language or several Chinese dialects.
An tells Amanda she should visit the Great Wall of China and Tiananmen Square while she’s in Beijing. The girl’s parents return to the table and introductions are made. Both of them speak excellent English and are professors at the Graduate School of Tsinghua University in Beijing. An's father has been teaching there for more than ten years in the division of life science and health as a chemistry professor. Her mother works in the same program, but in biological life science. They met in college. They engage Amanda in conversation about the University of Virginia, knowing that it sits in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains in Charlottesville. They ask her about one colleague from China who is a professor at the undergraduate government school there, but Amanda doesn’t recognize the name.
An’s parents move to another table and she and Amanda continue to play. An begins to confide in her new American friend.
"I went to a program in London last summer, offered through Oxford."
"Oxford? No wonder you speak such good English!"
"Yes, that was when my studies of English helped me the most." Then she leans closer over the white tablecloth. "I met a boy there too. He’s from China, but he lives in the United States now. I told my parents I want to go to university there, but they want me to go to Tsinghua in Beijing because they both teach there. I argue with them, they do not understand.”
Amanda studies her face for a moment, then looks back down at the board and double-jumps one of An's pieces, one of the first times she manages to do that. She figures the teen is distracted by thoughts of the boy she met, but only feels slightly guilty about tak
ing advantage of it.
"Do you keep in touch with him?" Amanda asks while An makes her next move. "Are you friends on Facebook?"
"We cannot have Facebook in China, not allowed."
"Really? I didn't know that. Why not?"
"You will have to ask our president or the government that question. Maybe they think we will become too much like Americans."
About that time, Amanda feels the train slowing down. She decides it’s time to head back to her berth. She tells An and her parents how nice it was to meet them and starts walking toward the sleeper car.
Moments after Amanda closes the door to her room Ryan knocks on the door and she joins him in the hall.
"What are you doing talking to random people on this train? We have to maintain the absolute lowest profile possible," Ryan whispers.
"She was just some teenager playing checkers in the dining car. What, do you think she's a teenage Chinese secret agent or something?" Amanda notices Ryan still wears the same beanie hat embroidered with a few Chinese letters that they picked up from the disguise genius back in Northern Virginia.
"Of course not, but you can't draw attention to yourself. And remember, thirty minutes before this train pulls into Beijing you have to change disguises. Put on the one with the face mask. You can take it off in the train station restroom when we get there."
Ryan had consulted with one of his former CIA agent friends about disguises that would be well-received in China. His friend said it was not uncommon for the Chinese to wear face masks or respirators because of the poor air quality in their country, and, unlike Americans, they did not hesitate to protect themselves from germs that are easily transmitted on public transportation. As a result, Amanda’s departure disguise is straight, shoulder-length black hair, a mask with Chinese features, and a surgical mask to further hide her American features. Her shoes are a popular brand known to the Chinese, a pair of modern workout pants, and a loose-fitting hoodie.
“So, no more chatting with strangers, got it?”
Amanda nods and Ryan walks back toward his berth.
Chapter 88
Vested
The tall man with the charcoal-gray overcoat is one of 20 or so passengers who boards the train at Zhengzhou East Station, and is the only non-Asian boarding. About 45 minutes later, while half-reading a book on his tablet, he spies his mark walking through the café car. Ryan hits the button that opens the sliding doors between the café car and the next one. Charon gets up and follows him, staying ample distance behind him, but near enough to watch him stop in front of a door in the sleeper car.
Ryan, ever vigilant, looks left, right, and down at the foot of the door before placing the small key on the elastic loop into the lock and stepping into the room. Charon nods slightly to himself and retreats from the vestibule back to his seat; he has the information he needs.
Ryan looks at his watch and figures the train is about an hour outside of Beijing, leaving only one stop before their destination. He makes his way from his room to the café car again. Two women are in line ahead of him, so he waits, albeit impatiently. When he reaches the counter, he points to the espresso picture on the small laminated menu. After paying with exact Chinese coins, he walks away and takes a seat at a built-in table for two at the opposite end of the car. The train, moving at over 200 miles an hour, presents nothing more than a whirl of countryside through the windows. He indulges himself in a Tetris-like game on his burner phone for a couple minutes, never losing sight of everyone passing.
Ryan runs through his and Amanda’s first several moves once they arrive in Beijing, knowing their mission relies on Liza. So far, everything has gone well. Maybe I’ll give up the investigator gig once I get back to DC, start my own business.
Having finished his drink, he tosses the cup in the tall trash can beside the snack counter. Returning to his room, he again checks in all directions before opening the door. The first shot hits him in the back just as he unlocks the door and turns the handle, pushing his body forward. The second jolt whips his head sideways, sending the beanie cap with it while he lunges, turning his body like a running back dodging head-on contact. But he’s not quick enough, and the third bullet also strikes his back. He slides along the floor into the room, kicking the door closed as two more bullets tear through it. Damn, Kevlar saved my life.
In the room across the narrow hall, Charon pauses a second or two before retracting the silenced pistol projected through the slight opening in the door. He knows no one can survive that many bullet wounds at close range.
Ryan lays flat on the floor of the sleeper berth, pistol trained toward the now bullet-pocked door, ready to fire at any sign of motion. Whoever shot me assumes I'm down. Even though he’s wrong, the operation is still compromised.
As he reaches around and feels the holes where the bullets hit his Kevlar vest, the door to his room jolts as if someone kicked it. Ryan fires two shots through the door and hears them strike something in the hall. Charon, standing just to the side of the door, now knows Ryan’s alive, but assumes he’s mortally wounded. He bolts down the narrow passage and hits the button on the vestibule door. He continues running through the cars, brushing past other passengers, never looking back.
Ryan leaps to his feet, still holding his pistol in front of him, and inches toward the wall beside the door. In one swift motion, he reaches his left hand out, turns the knob, and pulls the door inward, squeezing himself against the wall. No return fire. Ryan extends a short-handled mirror into the hall, but sees nothing except a mom and her young daughter now walking toward him, hand-in-hand, from the end of the sleeper car. He waits until the woman closes her door a few rooms down from his, crosses the hall, and kicks down the door the shooter must have been hiding behind. Hearing nothing from inside, he enters, pistol drawn, but finds no one. He backs out, pulling the door shut behind him, and re-enters his berth. There is an announcement in Chinese, then in English: "Baoding East Station stop. Passengers disembark for Baoding in one minute."
Ryan has no clue which direction his assassin went. He reaches up to the top bunk and feels for his duffel bag. He lifts it without unzipping it and gives it a shake—all his gear is still there, then he slings the strap over his shoulder. Ryan darts back out into the hall and with no more than a coin-flip of odds, heads to the right and hits the vestibule door with his left palm, keeping his other hand on the pistol in his jacket pocket.
The train slows with a faint but increasingly louder high-pitch screech; they are nearly at Baoding East Station. Ryan walks through the first car, and again into the café car. He stares through the large windows facing the unfamiliar train station platform. He vigilantly watches the passengers exiting the cars, a husband and wife with two small children, an elderly man, two girls. No one of interest.
Two train conductors and the woman who Ryan had seen with her daughter now stand outside the door to his berth. The woman points to the bullet holes in the door and another in the hallway wall. The conductor raps on the door to Ryan’s berth. When no one answers, he lifts his passkey to unlock the door, but it’s ajar. Both conductors cautiously enter the room, and one immediately calls his supervisor on the handheld radio when they see it’s empty.
Just as he hears an announcement he assumes means the doors are preparing to close, Ryan sees a tall man in a charcoal overcoat exiting about two cars to his right. The man strides away from the platform carrying no luggage, just a backpack slung over one shoulder. Ryan can't make out his face, only notices his lanky height and brisk gait. Something tells him this is the guy who left him for dead.
Ryan rushes out through the closing doors, almost entrapping his duffel bag between them. He jogs along the platform and bursts through the double doors into the waiting area of the train station, but his assailant is nowhere to be found. Damn.
He examines the map to see how far he is from Beijing. Since the train left the station without him, he and Amanda will have to use their back-up plan. He’ll contact her on
the burner phone once he finds a secure place to make the call.
How were we compromised?
Chapter 89
Iridescent
Two-hundred analysts working three different shifts with multiple computer monitors on their desks tap on keyboards inside the Chinese cyber-intelligence unit in Beijing. Dozens of hidden video-surveillance units dot every major international travel facility, including the Shen Zhen ferry terminal and the train stations. Local police descended on the area once the ferry agent was found dead. Given the heightened security due to the upcoming summit, they were soon joined by Chinese intelligence agents. Facial recognition algorithms run on the video footage identified Ty Ryan, a former U.S. Navy SEAL, and Amanda Michaels, a civilian, entering the ferry terminal, and later, entering the train station in disguise.
Given the Chinese government’s high concern with the possible disruption of the summit, the intelligence is transmitted first to the highest echelons of the Chinese Embassy staff in Washington DC. Birdie knows this information is also exceedingly valuable to Lu Li Xi, and that the company will be willing to pay handsomely for it.
Ryan and Amanda Michaels in China. Uncertain of their mission, probably to locate Justin Michaels. Will send coordinates on Ryan for $300,000 USD. Use same wire transfer.
The deposit and subsequent sharing of Ryan’s approximate location is completed within 45 minutes of the message’s receipt. The Lu Li Xi “contractor,” already in China, is dispatched.
Also, Birdie knows Lu Li Xi isn’t the only one willing to pay for this intel. He shoots off another email and awaits his second payment.
Targeting the Telomeres, A Thriller Page 25
