“One of these days I’ll persuade you to call me Eli.”
“One day...”
“I can tell today isn’t going to be that day, Jack. What can I do for you? It’s late here, so I’m guessing it’s urgent.”
“It is,” I replied. “My tech specialist says the NSA maintains back doors into all the major messaging platforms.”
“I can neither confirm nor deny that, Jack.”
“I don’t need to know, sir, but what I do need is the location of a device used to coerce one of my employees.”
“Everything okay?” he asked. “I’m told you’re in China.”
It didn’t surprise me that he knew exactly where he was calling me.
“I’m taking care of some business, sir.”
“Like Moscow?”
“It’s shaping up that way, sir.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“So am I,” I agreed.
“Try not to raise too much hell.”
“That I can’t promise, sir.”
“Send me the number of the person being coerced and I’ll see what I can do,” Carver said.
“Thank you, sir.”
Zhang Daiyu and I had reached our room by the time I hung up.
“He’s going to do what he can,” I told her.
She unlocked the door and I followed her inside, conscious once again of just how small the place was. Zhang Daiyu was attractive and, as far as I was aware, single. And we were living in each other’s pockets. I didn’t need to continue to stay with her to make sure she was okay, as I had when we first arrived at the hostel.
“I think I’m going to see if they have another room,” I said.
“I’ll do it, Mr. Morgan,” she replied.
“It’s Jack. We’ve faced too many bullets together for ‘Mr. Morgan.’”
She smiled. “It will be easier if I try for another room, Jack.”
She left and I went into the bathroom, got undressed, and stepped into the tiny shower. The tiles were cracked and broken, and the water was on the chilly side of tepid, but it felt good. I emerged revitalized. I dried myself and got dressed, making a mental note to buy new clothes at the first opportunity.
“You don’t hum,” Zhang Daiyu said when I stepped into the room. “I was told Americans always sing or hum in the shower.”
“I have a special exemption,” I replied, toweling my hair dry.
“They don’t have any rooms available,” she revealed. “Looks like you’re stuck with me for a while.”
“We could go somewhere else,” I replied.
“The manager and I have reached an arrangement. Our stay will be handled with complete discretion. I’m paying him double the room rate and have promised a bonus if we make it out of here in one piece.”
I wasn’t thrilled with the prospect of more nights on the floor, but she was right to suggest we stay. Anywhere that could be trusted to keep our presence secret was worth an uncomfortable sleep.
I sat on the bed and put on my shoes. She leant against a rustic dresser. The shower had revived me, but I was still starving.
“What makes you do this?” she asked. “I know your background. You don’t have to work like this, exposing yourself to danger.”
“My father gave me this agency. It was nothing but a name. He wasn’t like me. He was a gambler. Destructive. He was in it to make money, but never did. Not really. I prefer to try and help people. Private is a force for good. I do this because I can.”
It was hard to tell whether she thought me brave or foolish, and I’ve often wondered about the distinction myself.
“What about you?” I asked. She’d proved herself to be brave and loyal, so I wasn’t suspicious of her anymore. I genuinely wanted to know more about her. “Why did you leave the police?”
“Politics,” she replied, and I thought for a moment she wasn’t going to go any further, but she kept talking. “I came from a small village near Dazhou in Sichuan. My father was a chicken farmer. One day some money went missing from the local market and he was accused of taking it. His life was ruined and he faced jail, but the local police inspector proved it was another man, saving my father and bringing the true criminal to justice. I wanted to be like that, but when I got to the city, I discovered it is all about politics and ambition and sometimes even corruption. I thought about returning home, but I saw Private was recruiting and your ethos and mission appealed to me.”
“I’m glad you joined,” I said.
“So am I.”
“Shall we get something to eat while we wait?” I asked, but before she could answer, my phone rang. There was no caller ID. The screen was blank.
“Hello.”
“The information you want is at one-six-seven-three-four dot com,” a man said. “It will be there for three minutes. One-six-seven-three-four.”
The line went dead and Zhang Daiyu looked at me in puzzlement.
I said, “I think Carver just gave us our suspect.”
Chapter 46
Justine was exhausted. It was after 3 a.m. and she was on her way back to the office from a coffee run when Jack called. She stepped out of the elevator, put the tray of cups on the reception desk, and answered the phone.
“Jack. How are you?”
“We’re okay,” he replied.
There had been a time when she’d been jealous of her female colleagues, but she and Jack trusted each other implicitly now. Their relationship had been strengthened by his time away in Afghanistan.
“Carver came through. I need to speak to Mo,” he said.
Justine left the tray of coffee and hurried through the security doors, along the corridor to the executive meeting room. Mo-bot was working on her laptop at the boardroom table, and Sci and Rafael were asleep on couches against the walls.
“It’s Jack,” Justine said, handing Mo-bot the phone.
“I’m putting you on speaker,” Mo-bot said.
“Carver identified the device that was being used to send Rafael messages. It was a Raid-Box,” Jack revealed.
Mo-bot leant back in her chair and exhaled loudly. “Sheesh. A Raid-Box. Guoanbu-issue ghost device designed to be untraceable.”
“Guoanbu?” Rafael asked. He looked groggy as he stirred.
“Chinese State Security,” Mo-bot explained.
“Alison has been abducted by Chinese State Security?” he asked, his concern palpable.
Sci was lying on the couch behind the door and stretched as he woke.
“Not necessarily,” Mo-bot replied. “Could be someone who has access to their tech.”
“Raid-Boxes are supposed to be impossible to trace unless you have the machine number, aren’t they?” Sci remarked.
“Guess what Carver’s people gave me?” Jack said.
“You’re kidding?” Mo-bot responded, suddenly coming alive. “Jack Morgan, you’re a genius.”
“I just made a phone call,” he countered.
“How did they get the machine code?” she asked.
“Who knows what the Pentagon is really capable of?”
“I thought I did,” she remarked. “With the machine code, I can run a crawler to watch local ISPs and see if he uses the Raid-Box anywhere within two hundred miles of the city.”
“Good,” Jack said. “You let me know when you find him. And call the cops. We need to bring them in on this.”
“Police?” Rafael asked.
“Yes,” Jack replied. “You made a bad choice. The chips are going to fall where they fall.”
Rafael nodded slowly and Justine saw a look of defeat sweep across his face. He had accepted there would be a full legal reckoning. Jack had made their decision for them.
“I’ll get started,” Mo-bot said. “We’ll call you as soon as we’ve got anything.”
“Good luck,” he responded before hanging up.
Chapter 47
Zhang Daiyu and I grabbed some zhajiang mian fried-sauce noodles from a stall near the hostel. We ate standing on the street not far from the grinning, wiry old man who kept up a steady trade serving his sweet-smelling bowls to the locals. I had never tasted anything so good in my life. Partly a consequence of hunger, but also a testament to the chef’s skill with the spices that went into the hot sauce covering the noodles.
“Good, right?” Zhang Daiyu remarked.
“I can’t tell you how good,” I replied.
She spent time on the phone, briefing Huang Hua, who was leading the surveillance effort on Liu Bao. We had a team of six operatives working in rolling shifts and Hua had put together an equipment package ready for installation that night. I didn’t care about the cost. I wanted the man who had targeted my organization and killed my colleagues.
After my call with Justine, Sci, and Mo-bot, Zhang Daiyu and I went to a local clothes shop and refreshed our wardrobes. I bought underwear, black jeans, and a gray T-shirt, and was dressed like many of our fellow residents in the hostel. The only thing missing was the ubiquitous blue worker’s jacket, but it was far too hot for outerwear. Zhang Daiyu was in a pair of black trousers and a red blouse, which she managed to make look like designer wear despite the fact it had been cheaper than our noodles.
“I want my own clothes,” she grumbled between mouthfuls. “I feel as though I’m in my mother’s wardrobe.”
“You look great.”
“Thank you, but you don’t have to be kind. I suppose I can’t go home until this is over?”
I nodded. “Seems that way. These guys are serious.”
Her phone rang and she pulled it from her pocket and answered rapidly before hanging up.
“Come on,” she said, hurrying back to the stall to hand her bowl to the vendor. “The surveillance team has spotted someone of interest visiting Liu’s office. A man with the triple dragon tattoo on his arm. If we hurry, we can support them. They don’t have the resources to watch Liu Bao and tail this new target.”
I nodded and handed my bowl to the chef, who smiled his thanks.
Thirty minutes later, after a cab ride, we reached the financial district and asked to be dropped off a few blocks from the building. We walked to Guangcheng Street, where we found Hua’s Private surveillance van parked in a multi-story between two office blocks. The van was on the roof of the building and had a partial view of Liu Bao’s eye-shaped headquarters.
Zhang Daiyu rapped on the side door and someone let us in. Hua was alone, monitoring a variety of screens.
“Good,” he said. “I think you’re in time. We haven’t seen him come out.”
“What are you running?” I asked.
“Six fixed cameras monitoring the entrances and exits, two operatives on the main entrance.”
“Good.”
“We haven’t been able to install anything inside, but we’ll fix that tonight.”
I was impressed. They’d managed to get up and running very quickly.
“We’ve tried directional mics, but they seem to have counter measures running,” he said. “A lot of corporates used counter surveillance to prevent industrial espionage. We’ll learn more when we get inside later.”
“Can you show us the guy?” I asked.
Hua nodded and took a seat on one of the stools in front of the main console. He gestured for Zhang Daiyu and me to sit next to him. I was grateful for the van’s independent cooling system, which kept the air conditioning running even with the engine off — essential for long field operations in the heat.
Hua scrolled through some video footage of the main entrance to Liu Bao’s building, which captured everyone entering and leaving.
“Where are the cameras?” I asked.
“Lamp posts. Bollards. Two button cameras on the agents,” he said, pausing the footage on a man in black slacks and a white shirt with rolled-up sleeves. “Zhang Daiyu told me about the tattoo so I thought this might be relevant.”
I nodded and studied the man on-screen. He had short hair and a gentle demeanor. He was slim and moved gracefully, a far cry from the criminals we had encountered so far, but he sported the same tattoo as them. The likeness of two small dragons curled around a much larger one was emblazoned on his left wrist.
“Recognize him?” I asked Zhang Daiyu.
She shook her head.
“He’s coming out,” Hua told us. “Should I re-task the agents who are watching the building?”
He gestured to a smaller monitor showing a live feed of the main entrance. The man with the intricate tattoo was walking out.
“No,” I replied. “Keep them on Liu Bao. Zhang Daiyu and I will take this guy.”