“In China, on the other hand, they have amazing technical universities, as good as or better than in the former East Bloc states. They also have special training in the military for young programmers. And then, when these young men and women get out of school or out of military vocational training… each and every one has a job. In one of many military information warfare battalions around China, or working for their Ministry of State Security’s cyberdirectorate. Or else they go to work for the state in telecom or something like that, but even these programmers are organized for offensive and defensive CNO, that’s computer network operations, because the government has cybermilitias that conscript the best and brightest minds into working for the state.”
Hendley strummed his fingers on his desk. “So, it sounds to me like the Chinese are more organized and ready to act against us.”
Gavin said, “Yes. A Russian hacker will steal your ATM card number and your pin. A Chinese hacker will blow out the electrical grid in your city and send your commercial aircraft into a mountainside.”
It was silent in the conference room for several moments.
Chavez asked, “But why would the Chinese do this? We aren’t operating drones against them in any number. This happened in Afghanistan and Africa and in the U.S.”
Biery thought about this for a moment. “I don’t know. The only thing that comes to mind is they want to distract us.”
“From what?” asked Ryan.
Gavin said, “From whatever it is that they are really doing.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just the computer guy. You guys are the spooks and the analysts.”
Sam Granger leaned forward on the desk. “Well, now. That is a good segue into the next order of business.”
Biery looked around. Quickly he noticed everyone smiling at him.
“What’s up, guys?”
Chavez said, “Gavin, we need you to get on a plane with us tonight.”
“A plane to where?”
“Hong Kong. We have located FastByte Twenty-two, and we need your help to go over there and learn a little more about him and who he’s working for.”
Gavin’s eyes widened.
“You found FastByte Twenty-two?”
“The CIA did, actually.”
“And you want me in the field? With the operators?”
Ryan said, “We think you could be a crucial part of this operation.”
“There is no question about that,” Gavin said with immodesty. “Do I get to carry a heater?”
Chavez cocked his head. “A what?”
“A heater. You know. An iron. A piece.”
Ryan started laughing. “He means a gun.”
Chavez groaned. “No, Gavin. Sorry to disappoint you, but you don’t get a heater.”
Biery shrugged. “It was worth a shot.”
John Clark sat on his porch, looking out over his back pasture at the blustery autumn afternoon. In his left hand he held a paperback book that he’d been trying to read for the last few days, and in his right hand he held a racquetball.
He closed his eyes slowly and concentrated on squeezing down. His three functional fingers exerted enough pressure to slightly deform the rubber ball, but his index finger just wiggled a little.
He threw the ball into the backyard and returned his focus to the paperback.
His mobile rang, and he found himself happy for a temporary diversion from his boring afternoon, even if it was probably some telemarketer.
He read the name on the phone and his mood perked up instantly. “Hey, Ding.”
“Hey, John.”
“How’s it going?”
“Good. We got a lead on the Istanbul Drive.”
“Excellent.”
“Yeah, but still a lot of work ahead. You know how it is.”
Clark knew how it was. He felt incredibly out of the loop at the moment. “Yeah. Anything I can do to help?”
There was a pause on the other end.
“Anything, Ding,” Clark reiterated.
“John, this sucks, but I’m in a bind.”
“Say the word.”
“It’s JP. Patsy is in Pittsburgh till tomorrow and I’m heading up to BWI on my way to Hong Kong.”
A babysitter, Clark said to himself. Ding was calling him because he needed a babysitter. John recovered quickly and said, “I’ll pick him up from school. He’ll stay with us until Patsy gets back tomorrow.”
“I really appreciate it. We’ve got a lead but there is no time—”
“Not a problem at all. Found a new fishing hole that I’ve been wanting JP to check out with me.”
“That’s great, John.”
“You guys watch your backs in HK, you hear me?”
“Absolutely.”
THIRTY-THREE
President of the United States Jack Ryan opened his eyes, focused them quickly in the darkness, and found a man standing over him at his bedside.
This would startle the average person, but Ryan merely rubbed his eyes.
It was the night-duty officer, a uniformed member of the Air Force, in this case. He stood uncomfortably over Ryan, waiting for him to wake up.
Presidents are rarely woken because something so wonderful has happened that the night officer just had to pass it on, so Jack knew this would be bad news.
He did not know if the man had shaken him or called out to him. These guys always looked like they worried about imposing on the President’s sleep, no matter how many times Ryan told them he wanted to be made aware of important news and not to worry about something as inconsequential as a middle-of-the-night “shake and wake.”
He sat up as quickly as he could and grabbed his eyeglasses from the bedside table, and then he followed the night-duty officer out of the bedroom and into the West Sitting Hall. Both men moved silently so that they wouldn’t wake up Cathy. Jack knew she was a light sleeper, and their years in the White House were filled with his late-night rousings, which, more often than not, disturbed her sleep as well.
There were nightlights on the walls, but otherwise the hall was as dark as the master bedroom.
“What’s up, Carson?”
The Air Force officer spoke softly: “Mr. President, Secretary of Defense Burgess asked me to wake you and let you know that roughly three hours ago, Chinese PLA forces landed an engineering battalion as well as an element of combat troops in the Philippines’ Scarborough Shoal.”
Jack wished he were surprised by the act. “Was there resistance?”
“A Philippine coastal patrol boat, this according to the Chinese, fired on the landing craft. The vessel was sunk by a Chinese Luda-class destroyer. No word yet on casualties.”
Jack blew out a tired sigh. “All right. Tell SecDef to come on over; I’ll be in the Situation Room in thirty minutes.”
“Yes, Mr. President.”
“I want Scott Adler, PACOM Jorgensen, Ambassador Li, DNI Foley either there in the meeting or attending via video-conference. And”—Ryan rubbed his eyes—“Sorry, Carson. Who am I forgetting?”
“Uh… the vice president, sir?”
Jack gave a quick nod in the low light of the Sitting Hall. “Thanks. Yeah, alert the veep.”
“Yes, sir.”
President Ryan sat at the conference table and took his first sip of what he knew would be many cups of coffee. The adjoining Situation Room was bustling, and the conference room had filled before he arrived.
Bob Burgess and several of his military minds from the Pentagon had just arrived. They all looked like they had been up all night. Mary Pat Foley was here as well. Arnie van Damm was in the room, but the commander of the Pacific Fleet, the vice president, and the secretary of state were out of town and attending remotely, though men and women from their offices stood along the walls.