Caine was dismayed to see a news article from the South China Morning Post on another screen. FOUR MURDERED IN CHINESE GOVERNMENT BUILDING read the headline. It went on to mention that a Western foreigner was wanted for questioning in relation to the murders. The article included a blurry photo of the back of Caine's head as he disappeared into the Macau streets. Caine breathed a sigh of relief… His face could not be seen in the photo.
Caine scanned the other faces in the ops center to get a feel for their mood. Dozens of analysts wearing headsets tapped at their keyboards. Their faces lit up in flashes of dull greens and blues from their flat-screen monitors. When one of them looked up and noticed him, her expression was a mixture of surprise and relief.
Caine ignored her gaze. He headed towards two women engaged in hushed conversation in the center of the ops room. They were a pair of black shadows, silhouetted against the wall of glowing satellite images.
The woman on the right was Jezebel Yan, CIA Station Chief Hong Kong. She was tall and gangly, with long black hair. A sharp fringe of bangs accentuated her stark, expressionless face. Caine knew a little about Yan. A career CIA case officer, Yan had a law degree from Harvard, and a masters in international terrorism from the University of Baltimore. She was also fluent in at least five Far East languages.
After proving herself as an intelligence analyst, Yan was promoted to field operations. She had pulled off successful missions in Indonesia, Thailand and the Philippines. And if the rumors were true, she had quashed at least one military coup in a country friendly to the United States.
It was whispered that Yan’s successes had earned her the ear of the Director of the CIA. Caine had taken heed of those rumors, and kept on her good side as best he could. It was difficult for a man like him. His decisions in the field could have long-term impacts on national security, both good and bad. When things went bad, he knew he made Yan's job even harder.
The woman on her left was younger, in her mid-twenties. She was tall and fit, with fiery red hair tied in a ponytail. She wore a slim-fitting two-piece business suit. Despite all that had gone wrong, Caine found himself smiling at the sight of her.
Rebecca Freeling… A rising Case Officer at the CIA who was following in Yan’s footsteps. Caine had worked with her before, most recently in Yemen. She too was being groomed by the higher ups, and had been transferred to work with Yan. Rebecca had insisted on bringing Caine along as her man on the ground. Together they were tasked with a very specific mission: identify and eliminate the hackers attacking NRO satellites. And stop whoever was systematically murdering U.S. agents inside mainland China.
Now that Caine had blown his cover, both their futures in the Far East might soon come to an end. It was common knowledge in the office that Caine and Rebecca were more than just friends. He knew that wouldn't help their case.
For months now, Caine had been debating how to handle his relationship with Rebecca. Before Yemen, he had been struggling to keep his distance. He was assigned to a high level deep cover mission, an operation Rebecca knew nothing about. The fallout from Yemen had delayed his deployment. But sooner or later, he knew he would have to disappear, leaving no trace of his activities or whereabouts. He had promised himself that he would use this extra time to cool things down, to put some distance between them.
It was a promise he had broken. If anything, they had grown even closer. But every day, the guilt that gnawed inside him grew stronger. He knew he was being selfish. The longer he waited, the more he would hurt her. But no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t seem to make himself let go.
Rebecca noticed Caine before Yan did. She turned to him and shared an understanding look. She walked away from the senior woman, her heels clicking across the tile floor. As she passed Caine, she brushed her hand against his. Caine felt a spark of electricity as their skin touched.
“She’s furious, Tom," Rebecca whispered in his ear. "Play it cool.”
Caine nodded. He paused, waiting until Rebecca had stepped out of the ops center before he approached Yan.
“Thomas Caine.” Yan folded her arms and tapped her foot. “I thought you’d be smart enough to have exfiltrated yourself from the country by now,” she said, scowling.
Caine shook his head. He knew Hong Kong was the safest place in a thousand miles in any direction for him to be right now. Their laws covering espionage were fairly lenient. And their rules of engagement prohibited physical harm to all foreign intelligence officers. But he wasn’t going to argue the point.
“I couldn’t, ma’am," he replied in a low voice.
“And why the hell is that?”
He held the data stick Su Liao had given him. “Because of this.”
Chapter Five
Forty minutes later, Caine, Rebecca and Yan sat in the field office’s SCIF… The Sensitive Compartmented Information Facility. Their meeting room had no windows, and armored steel plates reinforced the walls. Air vents and ducts were protected by sound masking devices. Most telling, there was only one way in or out of the facility. This was as secure as it got, and there was a good reason to use the SCIF. What they were about to discuss was for their ears only.
Three linked computer terminals allowed access to Su Liao’s data stick. The terminals were isolated from any network, ensuring the device couldn’t infect the CIA or Embassy systems. For added protection, a technical intelligence officer scanned the data stick for malware, spyware and viruses. Once he confirmed it was clean, Caine and the others began sorting through the various files it contained.
“I have to admit, this intel appears credible," Rebecca said, her eyes glued to her screen. "I've cross checked the data with Naval Intelligence, the NSA, NRO. They all confirm this is the most accurate intelligence they've ever seen on Chinese submarine movements."
"I told you," Caine said, looking up at Yan. He could see the data from her screen reflected in her glasses. "Su Liao was scared. Whatever's driving her, this intel is the real deal. And this is just the tip of the iceberg."
“You still need to be out of the country tonight.” Yan looked up and shot Caine a stern glance. “Look Caine, I know good intel when I see it. This is great work. But after tonight, you're blown. You can't work in China again.”
Caine nodded. In the last twelve months, twenty CIA agents operating in the region had vanished. A few had been arrested. The others had been murdered in mainland China, and the semi-autonomous region of Macau. It seemed the Chinese felt they carried enough political, economic and military might on the world stage to avoid repercussions. They were striking back against espionage conducted within their borders. And they were doing so with extreme prejudice. If last night’s encounter had gone differently, if Su Liao had not intervened…
You could have been number twenty-one, he thought.
Caine spoke in a calm, level tone. “With all due respect, Ma’am, I can still operate in Bolivia. I can still bring Su Liao in.”
Yan shook her head. “The MSS know who you are. We’ll be lucky to get you out of Hong Kong alive. Their operatives will be alerted to you now. Everywhere. Even in Latin America.”
“Surely the MSS won’t come after Caine in Hong Kong,” Rebecca offered. “With the special laws here, the diplomatic incident that would cause—”
“There are other ways, Freeling,” Yan countered. “They’ll send Triad hitmen,” she said, referring to the criminal syndicates dominating Hong Kong’s organized crime scene. “They’ve worked with the gangs before. Quite successfully, I might add. As long as he’s here, there's—"
“Fine,” Caine interrupted. “I’ll return to Washington tonight. I'll take one of our military flights out of the country. But in the meantime, let’s assess this opportunity.”
“I don’t see why you need to be involved.” Yan’s remarks were again addressed to Caine. She adjusted her glasses, and leaned back in her chair. “You’ve brought in actionable intelligence. Others can take it from here.”
Rebecca twirled a pen
in her hand. Her eyes darted from Yan to Caine. He couldn’t help but notice how stunning she was. She was cool and confident in the presence of two agents with many more years of experience than her. Rebecca had been with the CIA less than five years, recruited straight out of Princeton with a major in political science and a knack for languages. In a short span of time she had risen high within the ranks. Few agents her age could claim that level of success so early in their career.
“Jezebel,” she said in a thoughtful voice. "We have to handle this delicately. Liao reached out to Tom. If we change handlers now, it might spook her.”
Yan considered Rebecca’s suggestion. To her credit, the CIA Station Head was not prone to clouding her judgment with emotions. Caine hoped she would remain unemotional until they decided what they should do next. “That may be. But this could also be some kind of sting operation. Targeting the two of you. A fresh team seems prudent.”
“It's possible, of course.” Rebecca's voice held a conciliatory tone, but Caine knew she would not have agreed with anything Yan had said so far. “This is a classic risk-reward assessment analysis. The risks might be high… and Tom and I both know what we signed up for. But the rewards… If Liao is legit, we might be sitting on the biggest intelligence coup in decades. We don’t want to lose her simply because we denied her Tom as her contact.”
Yan didn’t smile. She looked downright frustrated and angry. Emotions were getting the better of her. “What are the possible scenarios, worst case?” she asked of both of them.
“The worst case—” Caine began.
“The worst case?” Rebecca interrupted. “This could be an attempt by the PLA to get an asset inside our nuclear submarine program. Or another of our intelligence agencies.”
Yan took a moment, leant forward, and said with a nod, “Well done Freeling. That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”
“There is one aspect you might have both overlooked,” Caine said in a quiet, thoughtful voice. The two women ceased their discussion and turned to him. He glanced at them both, then continued speaking. “I made some calls earlier. CIA Kashgar Station. They gave me a very informative briefing on Su Liao's background.”
The two women paused as they remembered their geography. Kashgar was China’s most western city, built on the edge of a desert near the borders of Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan. It was once a major trading center on the old Silk Road, in the remote and sparsely populated Xinjiang Province. Kashgar was about as far away from Hong Kong as one could be, and still be inside China's borders.
“Well, what did you find?” Yan snapped.
“Su is Han Chinese. But she was raised in Xinjiang Province.”
“Why is that important?” Rebecca asked.
“For a start, most Han immigrate to Xinjiang. Not the other way around.”
Caine didn’t need to explain that the Han were the largest ethnic group inside China. They held all the power in the country. Twenty percent of the world’s population was Han Chinese, making them the largest ethnic group on the planet. But they weren’t the majority in Xinjiang Province. Many Han Chinese were being ‘encouraged’ to resettle in the western province. In reality, it was an effort to dominate the ethnic landscape, reducing the power base of the local people, the Uyghurs.
“So?” Yan demanded.
“Ma’am, Xinjiang is suffering about as many state-endorsed human rights abuses as Tibet. Hundreds of thousands of the local Uyghur Muslims are imprisoned in State-run internment. ‘Reeducation’ camps, for speaking up against the Han ‘occupation’. They’re being cut out of the economy. Their businesses are being replaced by Han enterprises. Their situation is so bad, Uyghur separatists are waging a covert war to break away from China.”
“You think I don't know this?” Yan did nothing to hide her annoyance at Caine's unwanted political assessment of a remote province. “I still don’t see the connection?”
“Ma’am, Su said her life was threatened. I believe I now know why. Six months ago, Su’s parents were arrested by the Chinese authorities. They were incarcerated in one of those Uyghur internment camps.”
“You said they weren’t Uyghurs?”
“They aren't. But her parents could be sympathizers. Which means they'll face the same kind of ‘reeducation’.”
“I see what Tom is saying,” Rebecca jumped in, catching up with Caine’s train of thought. “The timing of her parent's arrest coincides with the commencement of the PLA hacking of the NRO. Su Liao could be involved somehow.”
“It gets more compelling,” Caine continued. “Kashgar Station recently intercepted a communication authorizing the execution of Su’s parents.”
“And were they?” Yan asked. “Executed, I mean?”
Caine grimaced. “We don’t know. We have to presume so. If they were, it happened in the last couple of weeks.”
For a moment Yan and Rebecca said nothing as they processed this new information. Then Rebecca broke the silence. “You think Su was coerced in some way, to do something illegal? And now that her usefulness has run out, the Chinese no longer need her parents as leverage?"
Caine nodded, “Which makes Su a loose end. And I think she knows it. With her parents dead, she has to assume she’ll be next.”
“That’s a compelling reason to defect,” Rebecca offered.
Yan stared at Caine over the rim of her glasses. “Or it could be an elaborate cover for a sting operation that’s going to ruin all our careers!”
Caine stared Yan down, “It's possible, ma’am. But this is the intelligence gathering business. When has anything ever been certain? Every move is a risk, but we still need to play the game. The potential rewards are too great to ignore.”
The color drained from Yan's face. “That’s what I’m afraid of, Caine.”
The desk phone rang. Yan answered it.
After a short, terse conversation in Cantonese, the call ended and she hung up. A sour look crossed her sharp features.
Yan looked up at Caine and Rebecca. “We have to cut this meeting short. The head of MSS Hong Kong is here, Caine. And he wants to discuss your fate.”
Chapter Six
Chen Fa Li looked too foppish and manicured to be an MSS operative. He was dressed in an expensive-looking suit, with perfect Savile Row-style tailoring. Under the suit he wore a crisp striped shirt with thick gold cufflinks. His fingernails were clean and perfectly polished, as were his brogue shoes. His hairstyle was straight out of the 1940s; a sleek part on the left side of his face.
Everything about his appearance screamed wealth and sophistication… A Westerner, a corporate trader. But of course, he was none of those things. Chen was a man who looked nothing like what he actually was.
That’s what makes him dangerous, Caine thought.
Officially, Chen worked out of the Liaison Office for the Special Administrative Region of Hong Kong. His office coordinated the Chinese Communist Party’s visible influence on the autonomous region, thanks to the agreements left in place by the British before their departure in 1997. But everyone in the CIA knew Chen Fa Li was a senior MSS operative. He wielded considerable power inside and out of the world’s largest intelligence organization. Chen also only visited the CIA in person when matters were grave.
Yan and Chen talked for several hours inside Yan’s glass bowl office. They spoke in rapid-fire Cantonese. Caine couldn't hear any of their conversation, not that he could understand it anyway. The thick glass walls of her office were soundproof.
Rebecca's attempts to spy on the pair from her work cubical next to Caine’s had been more successful. She was better at languages than Caine, and had studied Cantonese since her reassignment to Hong Kong. Caine spoke Japanese and Spanish well, and was conversational with Arabic and French. He had tried to learn Cantonese and Mandarin, but with little success. The intricacies of Chinese languages had so far eluded him.
But Rebecca had another advantage as well. She could also read lips.
“I think you’re going to be o
kay,” she whispered. “So long as you’re out of the country tonight.”
Caine nodded. “I guess that's good news.”
She glanced over at him. “You know you shouldn’t even be up here,” she added.
Caine narrowed his eyes as he stared at the Chinese man through the glass. “You’re probably right. But I want to get a look at Yan’s opposite number. Besides, he has no way of knowing I’m here.”
“You’re pushing your luck, and you know it.”
He sensed a pensive look in her eyes, and her voice sounded strained. “Rebecca, what’s wrong?”
She looked away, glancing over at the other CIA operatives and analysts. Everyone else was busy tapping away at keyboards in other cubicles.
“Everything,” she whispered. “Everyone knows about us.”
Caine was stunned. He had not been expecting that response. Early on when their relationship had been casual, they had kept it secret. At the time Caine had been fine with it. But now they were seeing each other all the time, working together day by day.
It made letting go even harder.
“It was going to get out eventually," he whispered back.
She scowled. “It's not that simple any more, Tom. What we do affects each other now. You’re out of Hong Kong. So where does that leave me?“
“You mean in your career?”
Rebecca nodded.
Caine wasn’t sure if he should feel anger or guilt.
Once again she looked away.
“Look, Rebecca,” Caine mumbled. “You know I don’t want to mess things up for you. If this is a good post, maybe you should stay. Maybe—”
“No!” She finally looked back at him. Her eyes were filled with longing. “I don’t want that at all. I just don’t…”
Her voice trailed off. Caine felt another pang of guilt, but he didn’t know what to say. He thought back to their last mission together, in Yemen. When they both had thought he only had hours to live, they had almost expressed their true feelings for each other. Almost. Caine had kept his emotions in check. So had she. Now, despite his better judgment, he regretted that.
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