When the old guard entered, he saw AK standing at the other counter scooping sweet potato chips out of a plastic tub. On the wall nearby was a magnetic strip holding a variety of knives. The old guard crossed the floor and joined AK at the counter. AK nodded respectfully and left just as one of the young fighters entered the kitchen.
“What are you doing here, old man?” the young fighter demanded sharply. “Who is guarding the girl?”
“The girl is locked in her room,” the old guard replied, scooping chips out of the tub and placing them in his bowl.
“Go back to your post!”
The old guard continued scooping chips out of the tub and placing them in his bowl.
“You dare ignore me?” cried the young fighter. He strode over to the old guard and knocked the bowl of chips from his hand. The bowl fell to the floor and scattered chips in all directions.
The old guard looked down at the bowl, then at the young fighter.
“Pick them up and go back to your post!” commanded the young fighter.
When the old guard did not reply, the young fighter tried slapping him in the face, which is a blow designed to insult but cause no physical harm.
Without flinching, the old guard caught his hand.
“Better to give honor than have it taken,” the old guard said quietly just as the young fighter yanked away.
“If you don’t know what that proverb means,” Straw Sandal said from the doorway, “it means you have been given the opportunity of saving face instead of suffering the embarrassment of losing it.”
The young fighter turned quickly toward Straw Sandal and bowed. But the bow was not only to show respect. It was also to conceal an amused smile.
Straw Sandal walked to the fruit basket and picked out an apple. “Kindness feeds strength while arrogance feeds weakness,” she said while turning the apple over in her hand, as if inspecting it. When the young fighter did not reply, Straw Sandal paused and him smile skeptically.
It was an understandable mistake, for the young fighter did not know that the old guard had known Straw Sandal since she was a baby. Nor did he know the old guard had once been the academy’s martial arts master. Like most of the other young fighters, he had a dismissive attitude toward the old man, figuring him to be unimportant and slow.
He was wrong.
With his focus on Straw Sandal, the young fighter neither saw nor heard the old guard lift a knife from the magnetic strip. His attention was on the apple that Straw Sandal tossed in a high arc over his head. Turning while watching the apple sail through the air, he saw a blur, then heard the delicate zing of a knife blade before the apple fell into the old guard’s hand, apparently still whole.
But it was not. It had been cut leanly in half.
Smiling, the old guard offered one of the halves to the astonished young fighter before replacing the knife on its magnetic strip. He then picked up his bowl of chips and handed Straw Sandal the other half when he passed by her.
“For Sunbird,” he said with a smile. And with a bow, he left the kitchen.
The young fighter stared dumbfounded at the chunk of apple in his hand, then at Straw Sandal, whose eyes told him what he already knew, that the old guard was still the master.
When the old guard returned to his post, he thought about Straw Sandal and her father. He would forever be loyal to them, although he disapproved of Dragon Head’s criminal activities, especially using a young girl as leverage against the Russian. The young girl, who did not speak Chinese although she was of Chinese ancestry, reminded him of Straw Sandal when she was that age. Same size, same bright eyes, same happy disposition, even though there was little to be happy about now.
He recalled how happy the young girl had been to see the Russian. He could tell that by the way she ran to him, and how they hugged, and the way he fought for her when the order was given for her to be removed from the room. Dragon Head was ruthless in that regard, and did not have the heart of his daughter, who could be ruthless as well, but not with the heartless degree of her father. Dragon Head, he feared, had been lost to his own ego and ambition, now that Xin Li – Sofia, as was her Russian name – had been leading him away from his original purpose of bringing protection and stability to the neighborhoods under his control.
As for the young girl, he would make sure she stayed safe and happy. On several occasions, when he was guarding her door, he had heard her singing. Her voice was innocent and hopeful, even though he knew she was afraid and lonely. What a strong spirit she must have.
Lowering himself onto his wooden stool, the old guard unscrewed the cap on his water bottle and took a drink. He then placed the bowl of sweet potato chips in his lap, and as he started to take a bite, paused and cocked his ear.
And what he heard brought a smile to his weathered face. From inside the room, he could hear the sound of a little girl singing.
CHAPTER 57
Wilcox was worriedly pacing the floor of the hotel room when a knock sounded on the door. The kids were engrossed in a Chinese action movie on TV and did not hear the knock. But Wilcox did and hurried to the door, and after checking the peephole, yanked open the door and helped a winded Talanov stagger into the room, holding his ribs, bent over in pain. His nose was crusted with blood and the skin surrounding one eye was cut and bruised.
“Alex, what happened?” said Wilcox.
After hobbling into the bathroom, Talanov winced while lowering himself onto the floor near the pair of wide steps leading up to the tub. Seconds later, Jingfei and Kai appeared in the doorway.
“Are you okay?” asked Kai.
“Did you see Su Yin?” asked Jingfei.
Talanov leaned his head against a cabinet door. His breathing was labored and shallow.
“Let me clean him up,” Wilcox replied, running some hot water in the sink. He nodded for the kids to go back to their movie. The kids hesitated, but when Wilcox smiled reassuringly, they reluctantly obeyed.
After soaking a washcloth in hot water, Wilcox turned off the tap, squeezed out the excess and handed the washcloth to Talanov, who placed it over his face and allowed the heat to soak in.
“Rest there while I call a doctor.”
“No time,” said Talanov, wiping his face.
“You need medical help.”
“I look a lot worse than I am. Help me up.”
Talanov returned the washcloth to Wilcox, who tossed it in the sink and offered Talanov his hand. And with a grunt, Talanov stood.
“You look like crap,” said Wilcox. “Which in my book is not a lot worse than you are.”
Talanov laughed then winced. “Quit making me laugh.”
“I think we could use a good laugh. Now, what happened? Fill me in.”
“The good news: Su Yin is okay.”
“And the bad news?”
Talanov turned on the tap, splashed some water on his face, then cupped his hand and took several large gulps. When he was finished, Wilcox handed him a towel.
After drying his face, Talanov looked in the mirror. “I do look like crap,” he said.
Wilcox continued to wait.
“The bad news,” said Talanov, facing Wilcox: “Dragon Head isn’t our problem. It’s my old KGB partner, Sofia, whom I haven’t seen since I shot her twice in the chest at point blank range. Needless to say, I thought she was dead. Needless to say, she isn’t.”
“I thought Babikov was your partner.”
“He was,” said Talanov, “but he operated in the shadows while Sofia and I took on the more visible roles.” He leaned against the sink. “Years ago, she and I were in Spain tracking down a defecting scientist named Gorev.”
“Who was carrying vials of weaponized anthrax, yes, I remember. He and his family wanted to defect, and would have, had you not caught him.”
“And I’ve regretted that day ever since. If I hadn’t tracked him down, he would still be alive today. As it was, Sofia and her men executed Gorev and his family, stole the anthrax, then used it
to make a dirty bomb that would have killed thousands if I hadn’t stopped them. Sofia retaliated by trying to kill me, and would have if I hadn’t shot first. How she survived, I’ll never know.”
“And she’s here, now, in Hong Kong, working with Dragon Head?”
“Yes. And she wants her pound of flesh.”
“What does she look like?” asked Wilcox.
“Half Chinese, six feet tall, black hair with some gray.”
“My God, she’s the one who killed Amber. I remember her from the security footage. And now she’s after you? Alex, that doesn’t make sense. What’s getting even with you got to do with the virus, the hacking, and the midair collisions? How does this all fit together?”
“It’s about money, Bill. Getting even is simply a bonus.”
“What money?”
“A KGB espionage account opened in Switzerland back in ‘eighty-three, which was then transferred by the Swiss to their investment brokers here in Hong Kong. Being KGB, Sofia must have found out about the account and that it was opened in my name, and that over the years, the funds grew from seven million to one and a half billion dollars.”
“Did you say b, as in billion?”
Talanov nodded.
“So Dragon Head, or Sofia, or both of them, forced you here because they want that money?”
“Something like that. Dragon Head claims the funds are his, which is why I’m still alive.”
“Why does he consider the funds to be his if the account is in your name?”
“Good question,” answered Talanov. “I’m guessing Sofia came to Hong Kong years ago with her eye on stealing it for herself, and since Dragon Head controls the island, and since nothing happens here without his involvement, she decided to hook up with him.”
“Why didn’t he just bribe someone at the bank? Surely he has someone on the inside working for him?”
“Dragon Head said something that makes me think there’s a snag. He said I needed to locate the funds.”
“So they’re not in the bank?”
“That’s what I have to find out.”
“All right, then, what’s the plan?”
“I go to Sun Cheng—”
“—which is the bank?” asked Wilcox, cutting in.
“And locate the money,” continued Talanov with an affirming nod, “which I will then transfer into an escrow account and later release in exchange for Su Yin. You, meanwhile, contact Alice and see what she can tell us about Sun Cheng and anything that may have happened there.”
“As in?”
“I don’t know. A banker dying . . . funds being misappropriated . . . anything suspicious. Once we have Su Yin, we can focus on stopping Dragon Head from bringing down any more planes. He’s got to have a vulnerability and we need to find out what it is.”
“Do you think his weak spot is that money?”
“Judging by how badly he wants it, and that even Sofia has been put on a leash, I’m guessing it is. Trouble is, like I said, Sofia wants more than the money. Which means, the minute I hand over those funds, I’m a dead man.”
CHAPTER 58
The nighttime scene outside the Congressional hearings building was pandemonium. Dozens of floodlights had been set up for news crews and reporters, who were offering somber commentary on the midair collision over the Pacific. Police cars had blocked off streets. The sidewalk was littered with cables. News vans were crammed together at various odd angles. Orange security mesh had been strung up like fences to keep spectators at bay. Shouting protestors were jabbing the air with placards blaming the president, China, and Russia.
Charlie was watching the scene on a series of three monitors set up on her desk in the Naval Intelligence Building. She had been in the office since five o’clock that morning and had no idea when she would be able to leave in light of this escalating crisis. Her eyes roamed from screen to screen and the various talking heads offering commentary on the emergency hearings taking place at this very moment.
“A midair collision between two commercial airliners has claimed more than a thousand lives,” a white-haired news anchor droned into a microphone against a backdrop of the hearings building. “Sources inside the intelligence community say hackers in Beijing were able to steal control of the aircraft and divert them onto a collision course over the Pacific. Angus Shaw, Director of National Intelligence, is calling for the resignation of Diane Gustaves, since Chinese agents were able to breeze past her security protocols and plant a virus in her system that led to the hack.”
“Are you kidding me?” shouted Charlie, drawing sharp glances from others who were working through the night. “They murdered Amber to plant that virus!” She glanced at everyone looking back at her and sank lower in her chair to hide her embarrassment. She then scooted forward and focused on one of the monitors, where a blonde reporter with lacquered hair was speaking into her microphone.
With an expression of what appeared to be pained sincerity, the blonde said, “The outrage is understandable when a congressional leader like Diane Gustaves helped former Russian spy, Aleksandr Talanov, escape to China in order to avoid questioning by American officials. To quote Director Shaw, ‘Perhaps Congresswoman Gustaves is colluding not only with the Russians, but also the Chinese in what is clearly an egregious abuse of power.’”
“That is so not true!” Charlie shouted, jumping up, then sitting back down when heads again snapped her way with glares of disapproval.
Inside the congressional hearings gallery, Diane Gustaves stood at a wide podium. On the wall behind her was the Great Seal of the United States. Seated before her were nearly two hundred reporters.
After issuing a statement of sympathy for the victims and their families, Gustaves promised to track down and stop the perpetrators of this atrocity.
But when she paused for a sip of water, a reporter shouted, “What do you say to Director Shaw’s remark that you abused the power of your office by helping Aleksandr Talanov escape to China in order to escape questioning by U.S. authorities?”
All eyes turned to Gustaves, who set her water glass down with measured control and said, “Colonel Talanov is not a Russian spy, nor was he involved in the airline disaster. In fact, he’s helping us find out who’s responsible. Beyond that, I cannot speak to who Colonel Talanov is, or where he is, or why, because that information is classified. So to have his name leaked publicly like this, and to have false accusations and innuendos flung recklessly about, that is the egregious abuse of power.”
“What about the Chinese agents who breezed past your security protocols and planted a virus in your system?” the reporter replied. “How can you accuse Director Shaw of an abuse of power and not accept any responsibility yourself?”
“Because that is not what happened.”
“Are you saying Director Shaw lied?”
“I’m saying the two women who planted that virus were not Chinese agents, and I know that for a fact. I also know they did not breeze past my security protocols. They tortured and murdered my assistant in order to force her to navigate past them. As for me not accepting accountability, I will forever be haunted by Amber’s death. Any security protocol, no matter how sophisticated, has weaknesses, and there will always be people who figure out ways to exploit those weaknesses. It’s what hackers do. But the fact that none of you bothered asking for my side of this story means you’re as complicit in this disinformation campaign as the person who started it. And for that, you need to accept responsibility instead of pointing fingers at others. You are here to report news fairly, not make up headlines for the sake of ratings.”
A small number of reporters began clapping, then quickly grew quiet when other reporters threw them sharp glances.
“And the accusation that you are colluding with the Chinese?” asked another reporter.
“Just because we’re not openly hostile to a foreign government does not mean we’re colluding with them. We are, however, cooperating. It’s what leaders do, and what I’m doing
in order to track down and apprehend the actual perpetrators behind the hacking of our GPS network.”
Gustaves went on to ask how many people knew what a ventriloquist was. She didn’t pause for responses because she wanted to use the rhetorical question to introduce a principle. That principle was the “throwing” of a “voice” – in this case a hacking signal – to another location in order to disguise its actual point of origin. She elaborated further by explaining what they knew thus far; namely, that while the signal appeared to have originated in Beijing, analysts now believe it to have originated in Shenzhen, which was north of the boundary separating mainland China from Hong Kong and the New Territories.
“To be clear,” Gustaves concluded, “contrary to what the perpetrators wanted us to think, we are convinced Beijing was not involved. I know this with a high degree of certainty because signal analysis and sources on the ground are confirming this as we speak.”
Dozens of reporters raised their hands and Gustaves pointed to a woman in the third row. The woman, in her forties, stood. She was dressed in a dark blue slack suit, and was known for her popular conservative talk show.
“You mention sources on the ground, Madam Congresswoman,” the woman said. “Can you tell us who they are?”
“No.”
“Is Aleksandr Talanov one of those sources?”
“Like I’ve already said, I’m not answering any questions regarding Colonel Talanov.”
“Director Shaw has expressed what many think is a valid concern about a former Soviet colonel being involved in our intelligence affairs. What do you say to that?”
“That you should refer to my previous statement,” Gustaves said, pointing to another reporter.
“Director Shaw has been especially critical of you lately,” the reporter said. “Is it fair to say there’s some friction between you two?”
“I certainly hope so.”
Polite laughter rippled through the room just as an aide approached Gustaves and handed her a cell phone. “It’s Mr. Wilcox, in Hong Kong,” the aide whispered in her ear.
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