by Robin Mahle
“Doesn’t sound so bad.”
“Unless you’re Muslim. They’ve also deliberately increased the Han population here, and now there are almost as many of them as there are Muslims in the region. It was a planned migration in an effort to keep the religion from spreading and the Uyghurs from continuing toward more extremist views. They give them jobs and money in exchange for giving up their beliefs.”
“My God.”
“Oh, you won’t find him here. Not ours anyway.” Axell retrieved his carrier bag as the captain emerged from the cockpit.
“You have four hours, gentlemen. Then we will go back. With or without you.”
“Understood.” Axell turned to Caison. “Doesn’t give us much time. Better get to work.”
They made their way to the airport exit where several taxis waited to take passengers to their destinations.
“I have a feeling we’ll need an interpreter,” Caison looked around. “Shaw said someone was meeting us.”
“I can help you out with that.” A man with an American accent approached them. “Shaw sent me. Come on. My car’s just over here.” He flicked his cigarette to the ground and began walking away, soon noting that the men were not following him. “Everything okay?”
Axell and Caison exchanged an unspoken affirmation.
“Yeah. We’re coming,” Axell replied.
The man opened his car door and slipped into the driver’s seat. He rolled down the window of the passenger side as they continued to wait on the sidewalk. “Well, get in. I won’t bite.” He reached inside his pocket for proof of identity. “Here, this make you feel better? I’m here because of Shaw, gentlemen. I guarantee you, we are on the same team.”
At this, Axell stepped into the passenger seat and Caison slid in the back. “Now that we’ve got that cleared up. Where are we headed?”
“To meet an asset. A member of the Movement who says she’s got some new intel for us.” He keyed the ignition and pulled away from the curb. “How was your flight?”
“Fine,” Axell replied.
“Sorry, I suppose I should introduce myself properly. I’m Brent Maddox. I’ve been working this region since a mole ratted out our people and the Chinks executed them. So, a few years now, I guess.” He turned to Axell. “I heard about you, Axell. You’ve been out of commission for a while.”
“Not as long as you might think.”
“But you work at Langley as some sort of go-between for the Feds and CIA, isn’t that right?”
“That’s right.”
“And that’s what you are, am I correct?” He peered through his rear-view mirror at Caison. “You’re one of them CTD Feds, right?”
“I am.”
“Well then, welcome to the shitpit. Not much different here than Afghanistan, is it, Agent Caison? Same desert. Different towel-heads.”
Will furrowed his brow, wondering how he knew about Afghanistan. Then realized he was CIA. “Yeah. I guess so.”
“You might not see it now because we’re in the north and it’s cold as a witch’s titties, but where we’re going, down south, it’s warm and dry. Even in January, it’s still pretty damn hot. But you’ll see. Strangest damn thing here. It’s like two different worlds. From this city, the capital, you see all these high-rises and nice buildings and shit. But down to the south, it’s third-world shit down there.”
Caison eyed Axell from his wing mirror and noticed his brow raise ever so slightly.
“So we’re meeting with an asset.” Axell wanted to change the subject. “How long you been running him?”
“Well, here’s the thing about that, he’s a she. And I’ve handled her for the past, what, two years? Since the attack in Beijing the Movement botched.”
“Botched?” Axell said.
“Yes, sir. They got them, what like five? Injured lots, though. That was, oh, hang on now, that was in 2013. That’s right. Since then, they’ve conducted half a dozen or more attacks right here in this very region. The capital city and other parts of Xinjiang. I been running her since then. She wanted out and we’ll get her out, but now with this shit coming down the pike about Shen Yang, well, I don’t think we can let her go just yet.”
“Does she know Yang personally?” Caison asked.
Maddox peered into his rear view again. “Personally? Yeah, you could say that. Before ol’ Yang got high and mighty and went to earn the big bucks in Beijing, she was his piece, if you know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I think I get it.”
“And she wants to get him back for leaving her here?” Axell continued.
“Can’t speak entirely as to her motivations. She’s very well paid for her services, but she was pissed he went to the US of A after he got married to some Han woman he met in Beijing.” He glanced to Axell. “Anywho, it’s a bit of a drive. Feel free to get some shut-eye if you need to. Jet lag’s a bitch.”
Caison opened his eyes, not realizing he had dozed off, as Maddox pulled onto an unpaved road rife with potholes and large stones that could shred a tire without warning. He sat up and drew Axell’s attention by tapping his shoulder. It hadn’t appeared Axell managed any sleep. Caison figured it was because of this peculiar man neither of them could quite read, but had put faith in him that he would get them where they needed to go. And back in time.
“I see you’ve returned to the land of the living,” Maddox said. “Good. Because we just arrived. Sorry about the bumpy ride. Most of the streets in this village are shit.”
“Where exactly are we?” Axell asked.
“Kashgar. It’s the hub of the Movement. Doesn’t look like much, I know. But believe me, this is where the action is.”
“Is this where Yang comes when he’s here?” Caison asked.
“Sure is. And this is where we’ll find my lovely leading lady.” He peered at both of them. “Bear in mind, this is Muslim territory. And as such, she might be wearing a burqa. Although they’re banned in public areas. So, we’ll see.” He pulled the key from the ignition. “Come on. We’ve got a lot of work to do and I really hate driving back in the dark around here. You never know who’s just around the corner.” He stepped out of the car.
“Axell?”
He stopped short of exiting and turned back to Caison. “Yeah?”
“You sure we can trust this guy? We’re out in the middle of nowhere.”
“We have no choice.” Axell stepped out.
Caison surveyed the thinly populated street with many of the homes, little more than shanties. Those who were on the street cast wary gazes upon two of the men who could be mistaken for nothing other than federal agents of the United States. Maddox blended in and Caison wondered if they might blow his cover if the wrong person took notice of their arrival.
They caught up with the quirky agent who’d clearly spent too much time in the communist country. Perhaps this was the reason behind his odd behavior and grossly prejudiced views, even with his obvious lineage. Nonetheless, they had no choice but to see this through. The stakes were high and their team split up. A particularly bad combination in Caison’s mind, as the veteran of middle-eastern wars who’d seen his share of death and destruction.
“Her place is just ahead.” Maddox pointed toward a building roughly five hundred feet away. “That crap shack over there.”
“And you’re sure she’s here? How do you contact her?” Axell asked.
“She’s not the only asset here I run. She’s just the one with the intel we need right now. Plenty of people around here need money and food. I give them what they need, they talk. Simple as that. We will, however, need to cut down this alley. There’s a back entrance that’s preferable. Believe it or not, some of these people don’t like us very much.”
“Really? That is surprising,” Caison said as he quick-stepped toward them. The soldier in him couldn’t help but eye the position of everyone around them. Fortunately, there weren’t many. But he’d known well enough when an enemy was approaching.
They were in unfriendly territory. Th
e Communist Party had pressed its foot hard against the necks of these people, banning prayer, banning the teaching of their native language in schools. Instead, the children were taught traditional Chinese—Mandarin. They’d done the best they could do to force what had been a moderate Muslim population into growing extremists as they attempted to snuff out their religion all together. That would piss anyone off. And in fact, countries had been born as a result of such efforts.
Maddox stepped toward the rear entrance of the shack and knocked on a screen door that hung precariously loose from its hinges.
The woman covered in a burqa opened the door carefully.
“Salom.” With his hands at his sides, Maddox avoided eye contact with the woman as he greeted her.
“Come in, quickly.”
Her English wasn’t half bad.
The men walked in and she peered outside in search of any onlookers before closing the door again and securing the lock. For her to have men, especially men of non-Muslim faith in her home, was risky at best. And she was a widow, making it all the more scandalous and dangerous were the agents to be seen with her.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet us,” Maddox began. “I know what you are risking and you will be rewarded for your efforts.”
And in that moment, Caison watched this strange man transform into someone else, someone who knew what he was doing. Shaw was right after all—sending them alone with Maddox.
“We know Shen Yang was here a couple of weeks ago,” Maddox began. “Do you know who he met with? What they discussed?”
“Who are they?” she asked.
“Friends.”
“American friends?”
He nodded. “They’re here to help. But I have to know what Yang is planning and when he’s planning it.”
The woman walked into the kitchen, or what could pass as a kitchen. A small two-burner propane stove, a bar-sized refrigerator, and a rusted sink. She pulled out an audio recorder from the false bottom of a drawer. “Here.”
“Have you listened to this?” Maddox asked.
“Yes. I knew of the meeting and planted it before their arrival. I recorded their conversation. They’re planning an attack in Beijing. It will be larger than the one in the Tiananmen subway station. Much larger. It will be a bomb.”
“In the Square? The subway? Where? When?” Maddox pressed on.
Caison and Axell stood silent and let him do his job.
“The Square. Next month.”
“During the celebrations?”
She nodded.
“Jesus.” He looked to Axell in disbelief before returning his attention to her. “How many has he recruited?”
“I don’t know, but I can find out. He has a lot of money going around. People want to join him for that reason alone. Please, you have to go.” She headed toward the back door.
“Where do they meet?” This time, Axell spoke.
“Inside the mosque, or what used to be our mosque. Now it is a propaganda machine for the Party. No prayer allowed.”
“Is it guarded?” Maddox continued.
“Sometimes there are guards posted. But this late, I don’t think they will be there. There is a basement. You might find more there. Behind the walls are hollow spaces. They keep plans inside there sometimes.”
“Isn’t that risky? Meeting there?” Caison asked.
“Everything here is as you say, risky. They go there as a symbolic gesture. To prove to the Party that they can’t be controlled. Go now. You must go.”
Maddox withdrew his wallet. “Here. Thank you for your time. I’ll be in touch again.”
“I’m sure you will. If I’m right, I expect more in return for my troubles. The more people he brings here, the harder it will be for me to do as you ask.”
“If and when that time comes, I’ll make sure you’re safe. I’ll get you away from here. I promise.” Maddox stepped through the door.
Caison and Axell followed and the three made their way back to the vehicle, taking caution in their passage.
As they stepped back inside the car, Caison began, “Are we going to the mosque?”
“Yes. We’ll look for anything else they might have left behind.”
“What about that?” Axell pointed to the recording device.
“Do you speak Uyghur?” Maddox asked.
“No.”
“How about Turkic?”
“Nope,” Axell added.
“Neither do I. We’ll have to send this out for interpretation ASAP. I’ll take care of that.”
“So he’s planning an attack during the Chinese New Year,” Caison began. “How the hell are we going to stop it from happening? Sounds like he’s got the funding and the people already in place.”
“That’s your job. Not mine,” Maddox replied.
Chapter 21
There were four major state-run banks in China. And the Bank of Beijing, a branch of one of these four that serviced urban areas, was the target of the operation. Yang not only held his personal accounts here, but also several of the shell companies on which his name appeared as a shareholder. This made transfers seamless and this was where Aaron and Lacy found the deposits.
This was the reason they chose the hotel. It was in close proximity to the bank’s Xiajina location and they could easily slip back inside the hotel had the situation gotten out of hand. Luckily, it hadn’t and now Lacy and Aaron sat in their room, analyzing the data, preparing for the return of the rest of the team.
“There’s a history of roughly ten million US dollars changing hands between these accounts since the sanctions. I’ve noted the use of cryptocurrency here as well. Meaning we’ll have to work harder to find payees,” Aaron said. “However, some accounts, about half, trace back to Malcolm Ford and Casper Janz. As a side note, Janz’s accounts are inactive. I couldn’t see anything.”
“They’ve erased him. The CIA,” Lacy replied.
“Sounds about right. When do you think we’ll hear from Caison and Axell?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. Shaw might have an update. He said his team would be near and to go out onto the balcony if we needed him.”
“I’d rather wait until Axell comes back. The less attention we have, the better—for now.”
In a room secured by a steel door and thumbprint-activated keypad for entry, a team of security officers review closed-circuit video of City Commercial Banks and their more than 140 branches across the country. One such location was the Bank of Beijing. The daily monitoring of the central banking system had been implemented in 2009 when some of the branches brought in foreign investors and were no longer wholly-owned by the state. The People’s Bank of China wasn’t willing to give up control completely. And the monitoring included facial recognition programs, passport scanners, and other identifying material from anyone and everyone who entered each branch.
“Duìbùqǐ, xiānshēng?” (Excuse me, sir?) One of the officers approached his superior. “Běijīng yínháng fēnháng hóngqí.” (I have a red flag at a branch of the Bank of Beijing.)
The ranking officer stood and followed the man to his station.
He began to replay the video and stopped when the image froze and zoomed in on the woman’s face.
They continued their conversation as the officer explained the woman’s behavior, as though she was looking for something. That was when the facial recognition picked up on potential matches to her identity. A message displayed on the screen.
The ranking official studied the screen and grew concerned by the finding. He continued in Mandarin, “Do you have a copy of the passport?”
“No, sir, they did not ask for her passport and she left shortly after this point here.” He forwarded the video to the moment Lacy left the bank.
“These names, have you run them through the system?”
“It’s running the program now.”
Within minutes, her identity was matched and the officer shot upright in his chair. “Wait. Here it is. It’s an American
woman. Lacy Merrick, from Virginia. Do you know who she is?”
The superior appeared to bear a full understanding of the situation. “I will handle this from here.”
“It’s getting dark,” Lacy moved away from the window as the lights of the city shone into their modern but compact suite. “They should’ve been back by now.”
Aaron checked the time. “It’s getting close, but there’s no need to panic yet. Not in my opinion. You’ve got three well-trained field agents, one of whom is on familiar grounds. They’re fine, Lace. We got what we needed to get. Besides, if you’re that concerned, step outside. Get Shaw in here.”
“No. You’re right. I’m just being paranoid—again.”
“It’s not like you don’t have reason to be. But it’s fine. They’ll be here soon. And we’ll be that much closer.”
She returned to the chair next to Aaron. “What if the president did authorize this?”
“Axell thinks he did. I have no reason to doubt him.”
“Why would he risk such a thing? It would without a doubt bring mutual annihilation. China hasn’t stopped building nukes, regardless of what they say. Everyone in the intelligence community knows that. They have something like 250 nuclear warheads now. Still, how many nukes do you need to destroy a country? Probably nowhere near 250.”
“Probably somewhere around two, three? Maybe four? Look, I don’t think it would come to that. And if Axell’s right and the president is involved, I don’t think he truly believes it would come to that either.”
“But we don’t know. How many Americans have already lost their lives to the mall attack? The other attacks?” Lacy turned her gaze downward. “Everyone wants payback. Hell, I want payback. But this can’t be the way.”
“I think the president’s goal, or whoever’s goal this is, is to turn China inward. Force it to handle what could turn out to be a civil war. Weaken it. Economically, politically. Do to them what they tried to do to us.”
“And here we are, a handful of people doing what we can to stop that from happening.”
