‘The Pope’s death has made time a serious problem for us. In as little as fifteen days, the Church may have a new Pope, at which time my directive from Pope Leo will, in all likelihood, be rescinded. We cannot possibly train our own people, get them into place, and free Bishop Yin in so short a time.’
‘What makes you so sure the new Pope won’t finish what Pope Leo started?’
‘Mister President, you yourself know how difficult it is to make a decision that will put people in harm’s way. Pope Leo agonized for years over what to do about Bishop Yin, but after the August tragedy he found his patience at an end. I fear it will take years for the new Pope, whomever he is, to reach the same conclusion — years that Bishop Yin may no longer have.’
‘What do you need?’ the President asked.
‘Logistical support and manpower. Kilkenny intends to lead the team in himself. He wants to assemble a small force of volunteers who would be provided with new identities to conceal their ties to the United States.’
‘Special Forces,’ Barnett said. ‘Kilkenny was a SEAL and still has contacts in the service, including Admiral Dawson.’
‘I thought you said your plan was nonviolent,’ the President said.
‘It is, Mister President,’ Donoher replied, ‘and if everything proceeds as we hope, Beijing won’t realize what has transpired until long after Kilkenny and his team have Yin out of the country.’
‘And if everything doesn’t go right, a handful of highly trained U.S. commandos might get themselves killed or captured inside China.’ Barnett shook his head. ‘Mister President, this is a very dangerous thing to do.’
‘So this jailbreak was Pope Leo’s dying wish?’ the President asked.
‘It was,’ Donoher replied.
The President thought for a moment before he spoke. ‘Freeing Bishop Yin would certainly have a lot of symbolic value, but the bottom line is it’s the right thing to do. If it pisses off Beijing, well, we’ll deal with it. Jackson, you’re my point man on this operation. I want you to help Cardinal Donoher pull off this jailbreak, but make sure we have at least a fig leaf of deniability.’
‘Yes, Mister President,’ Barnett replied.
‘And Cardinal, best of luck to you on this worthy endeavor. Perhaps we’ll have a chance to talk further in Rome after the funeral. Pope Leo left a great legacy.’
‘I look forward to it, Mister President.’
11
Jackson Barnett pressed the button for the seventh floor, an action repeated so many times it no longer required conscious thought — which was good, as he was concerned with a difficult problem. The Director of Central Intelligence (DCI) knew the agency’s activities in nations hostile to the United States carried an element of risk to the men and women involved. Nothing saddened Barnett more than the somber convocations held in the cavernous lobby, where he unveiled new additions to the constellation of black stars chiseled into the white marble wall. The stars represented the CIA’s honored dead.
The doors slid open, and Barnett headed purposefully toward his office.
‘Is the link set up?’ Barnett asked as he approached the desk of his assistant, Sally Kirsch.
‘They’re waiting for you now,’ Kirsch replied.
Entering his office, Barnett’s eyes immediately darted to the flat rectangular display mounted on his wall. The conversation between the two people pictured there ceased as soon as he walked into view of the camera mounted atop the screen. On the right half of the split image sat Kilkenny, likely in the same Vatican conference room from which Donoher had spoken to the President a few hours earlier. Kilkenny looked tired and a bit disheveled in a sweatshirt and jeans, though Barnett had seen him in far worse condition on several occasions over the past few years.
Beside Kilkenny — virtually, though in reality in a MARC conference room in Ann Arbor, Michigan — sat a beautiful young woman with long black hair and almond eyes. Roxanne Tao was dressed impeccably in a tailored suit. Barnett knew her to be a professional who went to great lengths to look and act the part. Pinned to Tao’s lapel was a gold Chinese character representing the word Qi — the name of the CIA-backed venture-capital firm she represented in Ann Arbor.
‘Good morning, Roxanne,’ Barnett said, his South Carolina baritone rich with warmth. ‘I hope this impromptu meeting didn’t disrupt your day too much.’
‘Nothing that can’t be rescheduled,’ Tao replied.
‘Good evening, Nolan.’
Kilkenny acknowledged the DCI’s perfunctory greeting with a nod as he sipped on a Diet Coke. Barnett set his briefcase down beside the desk but remained standing. A prosecutor before embarking on a long and distinguished career with the agency, Barnett found he did some of his best thinking on his feet.
‘Has Nolan briefed you on his latest project?’ Barnett asked Tao.
‘No, we were just catching up. It sounds as if things are a little crazy in Rome right now.’
‘I have no doubt an element of madness is at work.’
Kilkenny eyed Barnett curiously as he spoke. Donoher had warned him that the DCI was less than enthusiastic about liberating Yin.
‘I am just now returning from the White House,’ Barnett continued, speaking directly to Tao, ‘where the President and I had a most interesting conversation with Cardinal Donoher. As you may or may not know, the cardinal was responsible for hiring Nolan as a consultant to the Vatican. Following the Pope’s death, Cardinal Donoher assumed stewardship of the Vatican City State and the Holy See. The subject of our conversation was a Roman Catholic Bishop and Chinese dissident named Yin Daoming. Do you know of Bishop Yin?’
‘To many in China, Bishop Yin is a heroic figure, a man of great courage and honor,’ Tao replied. ‘That he is imprisoned is a crime.’
‘Until a few days ago, I’m sad to say I’d never heard of Bishop Yin,’ Kilkenny admitted.
‘It’s not surprising,’ Tao said. ‘He is little known outside of China, and in China his name is mentioned only with great discretion.’
‘Nolan, would you care to illuminate Roxanne on what you’ve been working on for the Vatican?’ Barnett asked.
‘I’m going to get Bishop Yin out of China, and I’d like your help.’
‘Of course,’ Tao replied. ‘What do you need me to do?’
‘You spent a lot of time in China — I need your experience. I also need to procure some items over there, so if you still have any contacts that you trust, I need them too. And once our team is in place, I’ve got the role of a lifetime for you to play.’
‘I’m certain Nolan wouldn’t ask you to set foot in China if he had any idea of the risk it poses to you and to his mission,’ Barnett said to Tao. ‘And since I have been ordered to provide covert support for this venture, I feel compelled to make full disclosure about your past work in China.’ Barnett turned to Kilkenny. ‘You already possess the appropriate security clearance for this information, Nolan, and now you have the need to know. Roxanne, tell him.’
As Tao collected her thoughts, Barnett sat down in a brown leather chair, careful to remain in the camera’s field of view.
‘In the eight years prior to my arrival in Ann Arbor, I was a deep-cover agent for the CIA in Beijing. I was, in the parlance of my profession, an illegal. I had no papers, no diplomatic immunity, no status as a U.S. citizen. If caught, I would have been tried for espionage and, after a thorough interrogation, executed. Those were the rules governing my existence.
‘For eight years, I was native Chinese. During that time, I built several cells of agents in various government ministries and businesses. My agents produced volumes of intelligence on the actions and intentions of Beijing, information that even led to the disruption of a network of Chinese agents working in the United States.