by John Ringo
* * *
“. . . and that’s it in a nutshell, Bob,” Mike said. “Uncle Sam is definitely not the only ones interested in these chips.”
“Of course not. The fact China’s tracking them doesn’t surprise me at all. However, I am surprised at how fast they got on to you.”
“Supposedly they were already tracking the guy who had stolen the chips in the first place. He hunted us down as we were talking to Than, and the Hong Kong PD came along for the ride.”
“Do you buy that story?”
“It’s as plausible as anything else China puts out in the press,” Mike replied. “Of course, given that business in Armenia, I’d imagine they want to keep an eye on me, too. Still, if you guys have anything on this Fang Gui, I’d love to see it.”
“I’ll see what I can turn up.” Pierson jotted the name down, then leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temples. “This Myanmar intel, how sure are you about it?”
“The guy I talked to really wanted to keep breathing, so I’d say it’s a solid lock.”
“Okay. And before I go talk to everyone again, remind me what I said about letting me know if you were going to China?”
“Hey, Hong Kong is not mainland China. If anything, it’s the bastard child of a three-way between the motherland, the U.S., and England. When you said ‘China,’ I thought you meant let you know if we were dropping into Beijing or Shanghai.”
“I did mean that. But I also meant anywhere near China. Things are precarious enough between us and them without any official entanglements—like a Hong Kong police lieutenant taking such an interest in you and your Keldara running around the city.”
“If it makes you feel any better, we were as surprised as you were.”
“It doesn’t really. You have to admit that it sounds damned fishy that they just ‘happened’ to be on the scene in time to talk to you.”
“I freely admit that. We’re already working on a way to get out from under Fang’s thumb. Answering to one master is enough for me, thanks.”
“We do pay well—not that I’m saying you’re in it just for the money, either.”
“Yeah. I mean, that is nice, assuming I survive long enough to collect.” Mike grinned. “But since I’m already up to my ass in alligators over here, is anything outstanding in the PRC you want me to handle? Should we drop in on the Premier?”
“As tempting as that sounds, do not even joke about it—even over a scrambled line.”
“See? I knew you hadn’t lost your sense of humor over this.”
“Not yet,” Bob grumped. “Talk to me after I inform the brass about this—it’ll probably be a much different story.”
* * *
“Myanmar? They used to be called Burma, right?”
“Yes, Mr. President. The military junta changed the country’s name from the ‘Socialist Republic of the Union of Burma’ to ‘Union of Myanmar’ in 1989,” the CIA director said. “They had been controlled by a military junta for more than forty-nine years. In 2008, they began transitioning to a democratic government through a constitutional referendum. Their first free elections were held in 2010.”
“Much of the media still refers to the country as ‘Burma’ to delegitimize the change,” The NSA director said with a roll of his eyes.
The President nodded. “Right, right—the secretary of state visited there recently, and we announced the exchange of ambassadors. It is my hope that Myanmar can be an example to the more repressive regimes in the area. That includes its much larger neighbor.”
“Yes sir, but from what we’ve seen, the country still has a ways to go. There is some concern some several quarters, including members of Congress, that Myanmar is simply putting a new face on the old regime.” The CIA director referred to a paper in front of him. “These issues begin with the 2010 elections, which many nations and the U.N. claimed was fraudulent. However, since then there have been several pro-democratic advancements made. These include the release of Aung San Suu Kyi, the opposition leader, from house arrest and allowing her to run for a seat in the national Senate, which she won handily.”
“Right. She’s the one I gave the medal to, right?”
“Exactly, sir. They also released more than six hundred fifty other political prisoners, created a National Human Rights Commission, enacted tighter regulation of their currency, passed new laws that permit labor unions and strikes, and relaxed the government’s censorship of the press.”
“That all sounds good to me. So what’s the problem?” the President asked.
The DCIA continued. “Reports from well-placed sources inside the country show that the military is still actively moving against several indigenous groups. Their tactics have included rape, genocide, and other terrorist acts. As I’m sure you recall, the U.S. government passed the Burma Freedom and Democracy Act in 2003. This act bans all imports from Burma, bans the export of financial services to that country, freezes the assets of certain Burmese financial institutions, and extends the visa restrictions for Burmese officials in our country. The BFDA is renewed annually, most recently during this past July. Although the U.N. and we have requested proof of demonstrable gains in democratic procedure, such as the establishment of an independent judicial system, they have not been able to supply any evidence, or even shown meaningful progress yet. My point is that Myanmar could improve its status with the U.S.—and the world—if they were to make true steps toward government reform instead of just lip service. The full report is available for your review if you wish.”
The President waved a hand. “That’s another matter. Right now, the nuclear control boards heading there means what exactly?”
The NSA director cleared his throat. “That is a good question—for starters, Myanmar doesn’t even have a nuclear reactor.”
“What?” This came from the secretary of defense.
“There had been plans announced for them to purchase a reactor and build it with help from Russia back in 2000. From what we’ve seen, there hasn’t been any movement on it since 2007,” the DCIA said.
“So, why are they going there?” the President asked. “Is the military planning to sell them to another nation?”
“We’re exploring several possible scenarios—one of them being that the military may have constructed an underground reactor in secret, possibly with help from North Korea,” the NSA director replied.
“Okay, let’s operate on that hypothesis. The chips come in, the reactor goes online, and?” the President asked.
“And perhaps Myanmar moves closer to processing yellowcake uranium for its own nuclear weapon. Or producing waste for dirty bombs,” the DCIA said.
The NSA director held up his hands. “To what end?”
The DCIA was more than ready for him this time. “While ostensibly democratic, Myanmar, or Burma—whichever you fucking want to call it—is still in a vary fragile state. Hundreds of thousands of refugees are going to be returning to their homeland over the coming months. They will further strain a nation already under pressure from decades of mismanagement and underdevelopment. This doesn’t take into consideration the numerous indigenous groups in the country—including the Han Chinese, Va, and Kachin—all of whom were involved in anti-government fighting as recently as 2009, and who probably do not share the current government’s goals. The military may wish to try to threaten them into cooperating. They may even plant evidence of nuclear activity among them to create a plausible reason to crack down even harder—”
The President interrupted. “Surely those groups were fighting the junta government, not the current one?”
“Yes and no. The Myanmar Army is still involved in actions against several groups even today. The fact remains that there are groups both inside and outside the current government that may wish to foment unrest to advance their own goals. This may possibly include members of the former junta itself, as we’re fairly sure there were several high-ranking generals who had to be persuaded to cede power. If they can create the r
ight circumstances, I’m sure they would love to seize control again.”
“Could this be part of some kind of power play by one of Myanmar’s neighbors to bring them under another nation’s control?” the President asked.
“China was the obvious puppet master, however, given what Mike told us about the Hong Kong police’s involvement, it seems doubtful—” Pierson began.
“Unless they’re running a misdirection op, pretending to be in the dark while orchestrating the whole damn thing. It wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened,” the DCIA broke in.
“Yes, except China had been the junta’s primary weapons supplier for years,” The SecDef replied. “With them on the decline, that leaves a hole in their market, apart from supplying the government army with weapons. But they still have access to Myanmar’s emerging trade markets, which will be hungry for goods and services. The country is also very rich in natural resources, which their eastern neighbor will badly want. China would gain more from a stable government that’s eager to trade than another coup that could lead to civil war.”
“What about India?” the President asked.
“First, Bangladesh lies between both nations. Their relationship with Myanmar is tenuous at best, owing to the quarter-million Burmese Muslim refugees in country,” the DCIA said. “As for India, they’re still struggling with trying to lock down their eastern border with Myanmar, which has been a major corridor for drugs, guns, and counterfeit currency. A fence was begun to block all one thousand nine miles of the shared border in 2003, and its construction has continued ever since. Land disputes and indigenous protests have slowed the progress. Bottom line, India has enough on its plate with Pakistan to take any real notice of its much poorer neighbor to the east.”
“Walling off the border, eh? If they ever get it finished, let me know if it actually stops crime over there. Maybe I can use it to placate those idiots in Congress that want to wall off Mexico.” The President sighed. “As a fan of democracy wherever it takes root, we want to make sure Myanmar stays that way, correct?”
The DCIA adjusted his rimless glasses. “Yes, sir. The country is part of our ongoing plan to show the Asian nations that a democratic government can flourish in that part of the world. Also, if everything goes well, we could have an excellent bulwark against China—”
The SecDef snorted. “Myanmar won’t risk antagonizing its largest neighbor, which could crush it like a bug within forty-eight hours of a border incident. Your pipe dream will never come to pass.”
“Regardless, anything that risks destabilizing it could set back our plans in the region for years or longer. Maintaining their democratic government is paramount to creating the possibility of an Asian Spring—” The DCIA pinned the SecDef with a steely glare. “—which we could actually plan for, unlike the never-forecasted Arab Spring.”
The SecDef was about to retort when the President raised a hand. “Gentlemen, please—now is not the time to look backward.” He turned to Pierson. “We’ll let Mike follow the bread crumbs into Myanmar, and see what he uncovers. Does he have a plan for getting away from the Hong Kong police?”
Pierson nodded. “If I know Mike, he has several. I just hope they don’t involve automatic weapons or explosives.”
“So do I. Let him know he still should maintain a low profile in the area, okay?”
“Absolutely, Mr. President.”
* * *
“So, now we have to worry about the HK police breathing down our necks while trying to get Than to take us up the chain to the next link in whoever’s running these damn boards around Southeast Asia.”
Mike had convened his senior officers in the conference room. He had patched in Nielson from home, and included Jace Morgan for obvious reasons. One seat was conspicuously empty.
“But Fang said that his orders are to extend you every possible courtesy,” Jace said. “Typically the Chinese are very big on following orders from their superiors, so they shouldn’t be that much of an issue.”
“Yes, but as a certain ex-Marine Recon operator paraphrased recently, we are pilgrims in an unfamiliar land. If we are going to set up this meet, I want all avenues and angles triple-covered before we move forward,” Mike replied.
“Roger that. Speaking of covering our angles, where’s Adams?” Nielson asked. “Or do I not want to know?”
“That is a goddamn good question.” Mike shot a look at Daria, who shook her head.
“All attempts to contact him have gone unanswered. The good news is that there have been no reports of a foreigner with his description in the news in the last twelve hours.”
“Assuming we don’t have to break him out of jail, I will skin him alive when I next lay eyes on him. Keep trying to raise his AWOL ass.” Mike took a deep breath and shook his head. “What did you come up with on Fang?”
“His jacket is pretty bare bones. Born in Beijing, both parents still alive and live in the city. He received high marks in all schooling. Studied law enforcement in college and graduated at the top of his class before his transfer to the Hong Kong police force, where he’s been for the past fourteen years. The one oddity is that he transferred through the Special Duties Unit, the elite paramilitary force similar to the American Delta Force. He was there for two years, then transferred out to the Criminal Intelligence Division, which is very uncommon, as most SDU officers remain with that department until they retire. He has received high marks from all his superior officers. Has also received two commendations for bravery, once for saving an infant child during a bomb threat at a local shopping center, and the other was talking a hostage-taker into surrendering after nine hours of negotiations.”
“Sounds like a straight-up cop to me—except that he’s got his finger in this whole stolen computer boards thing, which sounds like it’s outside his AOE,” Mike said.
“He did say he was liasioning with Counter-Terrorism—maybe they’ve got the inside track on this,” Jace offered.
“Maybe, but something still doesn’t sit right about HK police involvement in something that’s obviously bigger.” Mike turned to Jace. “How are we coming regarding Than?”
“Better than I expected,” the ex-Recon Marine replied. “I had to burn a favor or two, however, once word got out that Sunia was MIA and that I had a part in that, my credibility went up a notch or two. Apparently the big man had been tearing up the streets and his friends while looking for his lost package.” Jace slid a smartphone across to Mike. “The programmed number in there is where Than can be reached for the next four hours.”
“No time like the present.” Mike picked it up and dialed. The other end rang three times before it was answered. “Mr. Kildar, I presume?”
“Correct.” The pause stretched out, with Mike intending to let it go as long as necessary. When dealing with criminals and not having the upper hand, he firmly believed that whomever spoke first lost.
“Will Soon Yi be joining us?” Than eventually asked.
“No. I am handling this from now on. I understand that you were released from the Hong Kong police several hours before we were.”
“And?”
“Well, when a man sets up what should be a nice, quiet meeting to discuss moving some merchandise, but ends up getting busted and grilled by the police, he starts to wonder who the fuck set him up.”
“If you are implying that I had anything to do with your predicament last night, may I remind you that I was taken in right alongside you.”
“Which matters how? I’m sure deals are cut in this city between people like you and the police every day—” Mike saw Jace’s eyebrows rise in surprise as the Thai interrupted him.
“However, that insult to my integrity I will not tolerate. If you are aware of anything about me, Mr. Kildar, you will know that I have never worked with the police in any capacity. Also, one might ask the same about yourself. After all, the meeting was originally changed on your end. Who is to say that our mutual acquaintance wasn’t arrested and didn’t give up
both of us in exchange for a more lenient sentence?”
The phone’s speaker was loud enough for the rest of the room to hear Than’s indignant reply. Mike raised an eyebrow at Jace, who nodded. “Point. All right, let us assume that we are both being played here. During my—interview, the officer mentioned that the Hong Kong police had been watching this Sunia guy for a while.”
“That would make sense, particularly if he had graduated from running American cigarettes to more sensitive items. It is possible that you and I both got caught in their very broad net. However, I distrust the coincidence.”
“That makes two of us. The fact remains, though, that we still have the rest of your merchandise, and you still have the rest of our payment.”
This time the pause was one of surprise. “You . . . still wish to proceed with the original deal?”
“Hell, yes. I don’t want to hold on to this shit any longer than necessary. But I also can’t just chuck it overboard either, as appealing as that sounds right now. I don’t know about you, but I have overhead that must be paid, or the men who come to collect that make that fat Malay fuck look like a fluffy black kitten.”
A dry chuckle rasped from the phone. “That I understand perfectly, Mr. Kildar. I, too, have incurred expenses on this job that will need to be settled soon. Given our current situation, however, how would you propose handling the exchange?”
“I’m working on that right now. Let me contact you in two hours with particulars.”
“How can you be sure that it will be secure?”
“Let’s just say I am taking precautions for uninvited guests. Believe me, I have no plans to visit the May House again. Two hours.”
“Very well. Pending what you tell me, I will decide then.”
“I will be in touch.” Mike cut the connection. “Jace, find us a meeting place on the harbor suitable for not only Than and myself, but also the Hong Kong police.”
“You don’t ask for much, do you, Kildar?” Morgan replied as he pushed his iPad forward. “If everyone is amenable, I suggest the Shekou Container Wharf, in the industrial port of Chiwan. It’s got cranes and shipping containers galore there. Of course, the HK police will have to close it down for a while . . .”
