Vital Force (9 page)

Jake Adams watched Chang Su as she slept on the lower bunk, the constant sway of the train almost lulling him as well. It should have, he thought, since he had barely slept on the train from Beijing to Shenyang the night before.

She woke now and caught him watching her. “Was I making noise?” she asked, pulling her legs to the floor and sitting up. She ran her fingers through her dark, straight hair, brushing it away from her eyes.

“No,” Jake said. “I was thinking I should be doing the same thing.” He thought about his current task, and wondered if she had the same information. He knew how the Agency liked to compartmentalize everything on a need to know basis. The military had been even more restrictive in that regard.

Time for a fishing expedition.

“Tell me the plan,” he said.

“The plan?”

“What we do after we get to Harbin?”

She looked confused. “They should have told you.”

They had told him, but that wasn't the point. “I'm a civilian. I was in Beijing as a personal security officer for an American businessman. I was asked if I would help. That's it.”

“I thought you were Agency.”

“At one time, yes. But that was years ago, before this new Agency existed.”

“Why you here, then?”

“Like I said. A favor.”

She hesitated, in deep thought. “This is pretty dangerous for a favor.”

That's not what he wanted to hear. He had left those dangerous missions behind. At least that's what he thought.

“After Harbin?” he probed.

“You serious?” She shook her head. “We go to northern frontier. Less than hundred miles from Russia. You need better clothes. We get that in Harbin.”

“What's there?” he asked, knowing the answer. At least hoping he did. It wouldn't have been the first time he had been lied to on a mission.

“A mobile missile base. Very high security. We can hit Moscow, New Delhi, Los Angeles, Seattle from there. Soon even New York with newer weapons.”

What the hell was going on? He was told they would be checking into laser weapons.

“That's pretty well known,” Jake said. “I read a story about those in Newsweek.”

“What's your point?”

“Tell me something I don't know.”

“How do I know what you don't know? I don't even know what you know.” She smiled now.

He was starting to like her.

“I'm sure we have all kinds of satellite photos of that location, right down to the damn serial numbers on the side of each missile. What more do they need?”

She shrugged. “I just do what I'm told. I get a call, meet Agency man, and he tells me to take a few days off. I tell my real job I have to visit my sick sister in Xi'an.”

“This the same sister who made you a triple agent?”

“I'm not triple agent.” She looked genuinely concerned or angry. “Same sister, though.”

“Does she live in Xi'an?”

“Used to...but I haven't seen her in a year. She moves a lot.”

Jake needed to get her back on track, but he didn't want to push her too hard. “So we go to the missile base in the north,” he said. “Then what? Just waltz in and snap a few shots? What's the point? And why are you helping?”

Her jaw tightened and Jake thought for a moment that she was ready to pull her gun again.

“China doesn't need more missiles. We need food for our people.”

“And cell phones.” Jake smiled at her.

“Right. Gotta keep in touch with family. China is big, Jake. It's easier to set up cell towers than to run phone lines to every remote province. We skip a step.”

Jake couldn't argue with that point. It wouldn't be long before they ripped up all hard phone lines worldwide.

Suddenly the train lurched, thrusting Su to the floor and shoving Jake back into his seat. He helped her up, and then went to the window and peered outside. They had either hit something, or the conductor had hit the brakes hard, because they were now slowing fast and coming to a halt.

“What's going on?” she asked, sliding her head around him.

The train had now come to a complete stop.

Su had a grave expression as she turned away from the window, closing the drapes.

“What's the matter?” Jake asked.

“I saw police cars,” she said. “And military vehicles. On the cross road ahead.”

“And?”

“It means they're looking for someone.”

“I've done nothing wrong. Except deviate from my visa itinerary. But nobody knows about that.” He looked at her. “What about you?”

“I've done nothing.”

“You've worked for the government before,” he said. “Are you sure they haven't been watching you? What about your meeting with the Agency man prior to leaving Shanghai?”

She shook her head emphatically. “I have secure cell phone.” She rummaged through her bag to produce the most advanced cell phone Jake had ever seen. “It's coded nowhere. I route through six cities randomly. Only one man has the number.”

“The Agency man. Who's that?”

Before she could answer, there was a great commotion at the front of their car, with loud voices.

“What's going on?” Jake asked.

She didn't answer. Instead, she pulled out her gun and her eyes shifted about the small compartment.

“Wipe it clean,” Jake said, moving to the window. He peaked through the edge of the curtain and saw soldiers making their way alongside the tracks. Two of them, side by side. “Damn.”

The voices were getting closer. Jake thought about what he had in his own bag that could be scrutinized. He had the camera and the phone that would transmit the photos. He had memorized the numbers to call, so that wouldn't be a problem. Think. What else? He had nothing, and maybe that was the problem. He didn't even have a proper coat for the climate, yet he was traveling without real luggage to a city with no real tourist attractions with a woman he barely knew. Was this an elaborate set up? He didn't think so, but worse things had happened to him in the past. The gun. It had to go.

He looked back outside. The two men had passed. Their backs were to the window now.

“Give me the gun.” Jake put on some leather gloves and took it from her. “Any extra clips or loose rounds?”

Embarrassed, she retrieved a full clip from her backpack. Jake took that also, wiped her prints from it, and checked the window again.

The voices were now at the compartment next door. Someone down the hall laughed for a long moment and then it stopped with the slam of a door.

Jake opened the window and poked his head outside, looking both ways. All clear. Then he thought and checked the gun to make sure there was no round chambered. The first round was in the clip. Good. He stepped back and launched the gun outside. It landed near some tall weeds in a foot of snow.

“Hurry,” she said. “They're coming.”

Jake threw the clip and it too sunk into the snow. Then he closed the window and took a seat next to Su, who held his hand.

There was a sharp knock on the door, followed by the door swinging in swiftly. A semi-gray man with short hair, wearing a police uniform and holding an automatic handgun, shifted his eyes about the small compartment. Behind him stood three younger officers with automatic assault carbines drawn. Behind them, barely visible, was a bald man in civilian clothes.

The man in charge focused his gaze on Su and asked her something in Chinese. She looked disturbed by the question, but she didn't answer. Instead, she slid her bag across the floor toward him.

He holstered his gun and immediately started rifling through her stuff. When he found her cell phone, he stopped and looked it over carefully.

He asked her about it, and Jake assumed he must have found something intriguing about that phone because he started punching buttons.

“What's he doing?” Jake whispered to Su.

“Nothing,” she said, shaking her head.

The man in charge cast his eyes on Jake. “You American? Passport.”

Jake hesitated and saw the man's hand move toward his gun. Reaching inside his jacket, Jake retrieved his passport and handed it to the officer in charge.

The man flipped through pages and found Jake's visa, which was a concern to him, since his contact in Russia had hastily provided it only two days ago.

Changing expressions from curious to concern, the officer raised his brows. “Say Beijing here,” the man said. “Nothing about Harbin.”

Su said something in Chinese and then followed up in English with, “We met and I want you to see Chinese countryside.” Su let out a breath. She was concerned.

The man had Jake's passport in one hand and the cell phone in the other. He seemed to be trying to make a connection, but nothing was registering.

Without great fanfare, the officer spouted off a series of words that Jake didn't understand. Then he handed him his passport and stuffed her phone back in her bag. They were gone just as quickly as they had entered.

“What the hell was that all about?” Jake asked her.

“He a...what you say? Asshole?”

Jake laughed at the way it came from her lips. “As you know, we have those in America as well. I meant, what did he say before leaving?”

“He bitch at me, saying I should know to update visa before taking American to other places.”

“What are they looking for?”

“They say a man who killed two people in Shenyang.”

Now Jake wished they had simply hidden the gun somewhere in the compartment. This wasn't America, where he could find a gun easily, or even Europe, where he had guns placed in various cities of almost each country, just in case he needed one. He had no reason to believe he'd need a gun, but he also knew that circumstances often lead in that direction.

Shemya, Alaska

Standing at the edge of the 300-foot-high cliff, the constant wind making it nearly impossible to stand, the man glanced out onto a dark Pacific Ocean. He wrapped his arms around his trunk and shivered. Two months ago he had been in the Bay Area, where, although cold and windy much of the time, was no comparison to this, he thought. Whoever thought about stationing the military here should have been shot, and yet he had volunteered for the assignment when Brightstar needed an electrical engineer to help with their contract, where they would bring online the newest early warning radar for the missile defense system.

That was the plan. But he was an entrepreneur. Always had been, since his youth when he ran a network of paper boys like a pimp with whores, taking a cut of each paycheck.

No. When someone shoved a boatload of money in front of him, he had taken two seconds to say “hell yeah.”

He checked his watch. It was time. He pulled the backpack from his back and retrieved a satellite phone. In a few seconds, he had the phone set up and the number punched in.

“Yeah, it's me.” He hesitated and glanced about him. “Right, I'm standin' in the middle of the mess hall.”

He listened now, his expression changing from playful to grave. Trying to say something several times, he was cut off before a single word slipped out.

“Yes, I understand. I'm sorry. It's not a problem.”

Shaking his head, he clicked off the phone and returned it to the bag. Then he sealed it in a camouflaged water-tight case and hid it among the low scrub brush. Only the occasional blue fox would know it was there.

●

Cliff Johansen cleared the empty beer bottles into a recycle bin. He remembered from his college days that each bottle was worth five cents, so he and Zack Evans had stacked the 12-packs up as furniture in their apartment in Eugene until they were short on cash. He laughed to himself with the thought, considering his current salary and the payoff he was about to receive.

“What's so funny?” Li asked, coming into the kitchen.

“Nothing. Just thinking of our college days. Now Zack drinks more martinis than beer.”

“Did Zack go to bed?”

“Yeah, he has to work in the morning.”

She looked behind her, toward the living room and beyond, and then back toward Cliff. “You get everything?”

Nice try, he thought. “I told you I put it in both places. No remote access. I got half.”

Moving her body next to him, she said, “Then you get half. What you want? Upper or lower?”

Cliff was excited now, realizing he would get it at least one more time. She was the sweetest lay he'd ever had, and probably the best he could hope to have for some time. Anything he could do to delay the inevitable would be great with him.

He reached behind and planted his hand on her butt, pulling her closer to him, hoping she would feel his excitement.

“I guess I got my answer,” she said. “Let's go. We have work to do in the morning.”

Cliff followed her through the house and up the stairs, his eyes not moving from her fine ass.

Harbin, China

It was closing in on midnight by the time the train made it into the main Harbin station. Jake knew the delay could have been much worse, but it was disturbing that they had lost nearly four hours with the police searching their train from one side to the other.

After getting off the train, Jake and Chang Su had taken a cab to within a few blocks of the apartment of her contact, whom she had worked with a couple of times in the past, and the guy who would drive them north in the morning.

Cruising along the downtown streets in the cab, it was easy for Jake to see the Russian influence to Harbin, with the onion domes splattered across the skyline. Sidewalks were covered with snow, and those who were still walking about at that hour, were bundled in thick layers of clothing, clouds of breath streaming out with each quick step.

Jake was still under-dressed with his leather jacket. He guessed the temperature was somewhere around ten below zero; colder than normal for February, according to his local guide.