She surprised her charge by leaving the stairwell again on the third floor. Pioneer watched as the woman reached into her pocket and pulled out a disposable cell phone. It had only two numbers preprogrammed. She speed-dialed the first as they ran. Eight doors down on the left, a door opened and Pioneer heard a telephone ringing inside. Kyra pushed him in.
The apartment was decorated in modern Chinese fashion with only a few nods to traditional furniture. The television was on with the volume unduly loud, the blinds were drawn, and the lights dimmed. A Chinese woman stood behind the door and closed it behind them.
“You’re Kyra?” she said.
“I am. You speak English?” Kyra said.
“Duke University, class of 2003. The package is on the counter by the stove.” Kyra nodded and made for the tiny galley kitchen.
The woman turned to Pioneer. She was Kyra’s age as best he could judge. She was young, lithe, taller than the average Chinese woman by several centimeters, with blond hair, which shocked him. He had seen her on occasion in the building lobby, but never often enough to warrant his close attention and always with black hair. Now, with light hair and casual Western clothing, he realized that she was not pure Chinese. He inspected her face closely and saw that her Chinese features were softened by some Western traits. “You are Long Jian-Min,” she said. Her Mandarin was flawless.
“I am.”
“I have waited a long time to meet you, but I had hoped that it would be some other way,” the woman said. “My name is Rebecca Zhou.”
“You are American?” Pioneer asked.
The woman nodded. “My grandparents fled to the United States during the Revolution when they were very young.”
Pioneer stared at her. “How long have you lived here?”
The young CIA officer smiled at him. “Six years.”
“Six years? CIA officers have lived in my building for six years?” He was astonished.
“CIA officers have lived in your building for almost as long as you have been working for us. You are a very valuable man. We are the fourth team to hold this post. Our job was to watch you, report back on your condition, and assist in your evacuation if it became necessary,” Rebecca said.
“Then you knew that the MSS was watching?” he asked.
Rebecca shook her head. “Not until you signaled. The MSS has been far more subtle than we ever expected, so we didn’t know until you discovered it yourself. But they have overreached, trying to use you to find a larger network of assets that doesn’t exist. We changed some of our tradecraft just for you. They didn’t realize this, and so they waited too long to arrest you.”
Kyra emerged from the kitchen with an open box. She dropped the red backpack, shed her coat, and began to pull off layers of clothing. Pioneer wondered for a moment just how much clothing she intended to remove.
Rebecca reached into the box and pulled out a bundle of clothing. “Please put this on, and hurry.”
Pioneer looked at Kyra, who had removed all but the base layer of her clothing. Rebecca took Kyra’s outer-layer shirt and pulled it over her head. Both women were wearing casual blue jeans cut slightly large to facilitate quick movement. Standing next to Rebecca, he saw that her appearance was similar to Kyra’s from moments ago. Not similar, he realized. Identical, as much as two unrelated women could appear. “And where is my twin?” he asked.
“My husband, Roland, is in the bedroom, waiting for your clothing,” the young woman answered.
Pioneer removed his coat, shirt, shoes, and pants and handed them over. Rebecca took them and disappeared into the darkness in the rear of the apartment. He donned the clothing the woman had provided for him. The fit was perfect. How did they know? he thought. He supposed that over the years, at least one of the people who met with him had had a trained eye for clothing sizes. Or had they been in his apartment as well? He doubted they would ever tell him.
Kyra pulled out another package from the box, this one zipped inside a black nylon case. She gestured for Pioneer to come with her and led him into the light of the kitchen.
The disguise package was descended from the “Silver Bullet” technologies developed by the Agency’s Directorate of Science and Technology in the 1970s to help case officers penetrate KGB surveillance in Moscow. Kyra had never seen the original disguises. They were older than she was, but the pieces she applied to his face and body were realistic enough to make her stomach turn. The sight of blood had never fazed her, but holding body parts realistic enough to pass close inspection was another matter. They took thirty seconds to apply. She stepped back, inspected him, nodded, and led him back to the entryway. He looked around for a mirror but could not find one.
Rebecca was waiting with another man who was dressed as Pioneer was when he had entered the apartment.
“Are we ready?” Roland said in English.
“Ready,” Kyra said.
Rebecca reached down and hefted the red backpack. It was full of books, newspapers, pencils, and other items common to any Western exchange student. There was nothing to incriminate the carrier. The color was the only feature that made the pack important. “You have the keys to your car?” Rebecca said.
Pioneer nodded. It took him a moment to understand that she was asking for them. He handed them over. He was about to tell her where to find the car when it occurred to him that she surely knew.
Roland turned to Pioneer and spoke in his own perfect Mandarin. He also appeared Chinese, but Pioneer inspected his face and saw that he looked more like a Beijing native than his wife. “I regret I didn’t get to know you better. Perhaps we’ll get to talk in the United States one day soon.”
“I hope so,” Pioneer said. “You have my gratitude. But you could be arrested. Why would you do that for me?”
Roland grinned. “The director says that risk is our business. It’s what we do. And you have earned it.”
“Thank you.” The words felt insufficient.
“Thank us after you’re out of China,” Roland said. Pioneer nodded and smiled. Roland turned to Kyra and switched back to English. “We leave first. Give us ten minutes to draw surveillance. You’ll get a call, one ring only, if they figure things out before time is up. If that happens, you run. Which stairwell did you come down?”
“The west,” Kyra said.
“Anyone pass you?” Roland asked.
Kyra nodded. “We had to switch over on six.”
“We’ll take the central elevator down. They’ll think that’s as far as you went when you left the stairwell. Take the east stairwell. Turn left when you get outside, one block, and then cut through the park. That’ll send you north. The taxi will be waiting on the far side,” Roland said. “The driver is one of ours. We’ll buy you as much time as we can.”
“Done deal. You’re on the clock,” Kyra said.
“See you in the States,” Roland assured her. “Ready for dinner and a movie, hon?”
“Six years. You have no idea how ready I am,” his wife answered. She put the red backpack over her shoulder, then turned back to Pioneer. She leaned in close and put a hand behind his head. She whispered something in Mandarin that Kyra could not understand.
“You were never alone.”