American Traitor Read online

  Charlie looked at him for a moment, then said, “I think it will.” Paul started to protest, and he raised his hand, saying, “I agree with you. I think you’re right, but the mole is the least of our problems. I’ll handle that. The bigger problem is the Chinese penetration of our electoral process and the Bamboo Triad. We need to pursue them, and I can’t do it with the architecture here, precisely because it might be penetrated.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m going to relieve you of your duties for your ‘reckless’ actions. It’ll be private, but I’ll let the word out through the NSB. It’ll get back to the mole, and he or she will report it as a victory to the PRC.”

  Paul let the words sink in, realizing the implications. “You’re going to make me a Ronin? That’s what you’re going to do? So I’ll never work in this world again?”

  Ronin was a word from feudal Japan given to a Samurai without a master. Most of them turned into bandits, and the NSB had adopted the term to describe someone who had been expelled from the agency for cause. It held a double meaning—coming from Japan was the first insult; the second was the complete and total cutting of ties with the NSB. Once it happened, the person was excised from all who worked in Taiwan intelligence circles. When the word spread, nobody inside the organization would ever talk to a Ronin again.

  “Yes. You’ll become a Ronin, but only for a little while. I want you to go on the hunt, but you’ll report only to me.” He held up a folder and said, “There are other leads here. Others like Feng. See what you can do but report only to me. Nobody else. And not here. I’ll set up a method of communication.”

  Paul nodded dumbly, astounded at the turn of events. Finally, he said, “Will I have any support?”

  Charlie smiled and said, “You’ll have me. That’s it. You’ll be on your own, like you were when we first met. Can you do that?”

  The enormity of what Charlie was asking spinning in his head, Paul said, “Yes, I can. Thank you.”

  Charlie stood, letting him know the meeting was over. He handed him the folder and said, “No, thank you. Make no mistake, you will go through professional hell before this is over. To support this cover, I’m going to have to disavow you completely, but I believe the mainland is about to attempt something big, and I don’t think we have a way to stop it. You might very well be our last hope.”

  Chapter 16

  Han Ming sat in the little office chair provided to him, the swivel seat broken to the point that if he leaned too far back, the entire thing would flop onto the ground. It was yet one more indignity heaped upon him, belying his stature in the larger hierarchy of the Ministry of State Security. As much as he would have liked to make the men around him pay for giving him the broken seat—he was sure it was an intentional slight—he could not, because they held his success in their hands.

  He was the head of the ministry’s Third Bureau. The commander of the branch that was responsible for reuniting not only Hong Kong and Macau—known internally as the easy—but also the gem: Taiwan.

  He’d made the short drive from his headquarters near the Summer Palace on the outskirts of Beijing to the area known as Zhongguancun, the “Silicon Valley of China.” Inside the sprawling neighborhood of internet start-ups and artificial intelligence research facilities resided the Twelfth Bureau of the MSS—the one dedicated to technology and cyber warfare, and the one he now needed.

  He waited until the sycophant finished speaking about the ongoing efforts in Taiwan, then said, “So what’s that give us in the end? A couple of bumps in a poll? What’s the point? The current president is leading handily.”

  In truth, Ming had no tolerance for the new world of information operations. He didn’t care one whit about social media campaigns and other manipulation. He was a dinosaur who didn’t understand the new rules. He understood pain and death. That was the only way to succeed. Get someone under your thumb and leverage two things: pain or death, either to someone the target held dear, or to the target itself.

  The man briefing cringed at his statement, thinking he’d failed. Yuan Bo, the leader of the Twelfth Bureau, said, “Han, I don’t think you understand how this works. If we get the KMT man elected as president, we can begin building our takeover. We’re looking at this in the long term, doing it without bullets. As the CCP wants. Nobody wants a war.”

  Han said, “I do get it, but your efforts won’t matter. Hong Kong has short-circuited all of that. He won’t win. We need to look at the problem set a different way.”

  “An invasion is not the way. Kinetic options are not something that will work on the world stage—especially, as you say, with Hong Kong. This way we begin to erode from the inside. If not this election, then the next.”

  His words struck a chord with Han. Erode from the inside. Han said, “Maybe you’re right. Maybe there is a way, but not in the manner you envision.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You deal in information manipulation, correct?”

  “Yes.” Yuan waved a hand to the back of the room, where a westerner was working on a terminal, saying, “We have the best in the world here.”

  Not having noticed the man before, Han was startled. Yuan saw his look and said, “Don’t worry, he doesn’t speak Chinese.”

  “He’s still seen me. And you, for that matter.”

  “He thinks we’re an artificial intelligence research facility. That’s all. Which, of course, we are. What were your thoughts?”

  Han glanced back at the man, seeing him engrossed in some video. He said, “I have some assets working for me in Australia from the Fifth Bureau. Working on a penetration of Taiwan’s anti-access/area denial systems.”

  Han saw Yuan’s eyes grow wide at the mention of the Fifth Bureau—the one that dealt with the so-called illegals. The one that dealt with death. The Fifth Bureau was the element that was called when all else had failed and the project was deemed important enough that someone needed to be eliminated. Yuan worked for the MSS from behind a keyboard. He believed in his efforts, but he had never seen the sharp end of the spear. And he never wanted to.

  Han continued, “Don’t worry about them. You won’t have to interface, but their actions could provide a lever for us to use. What I need from you is exactly what you said: Erode them from the inside.”

  “How?”

  “Continue working the threads you have. Continue trying to get our man elected, but at the same time, let’s explore attacking the current administration. Generate some angst within the population for their chosen leaders. If we do it right, it could cause a chain reaction that will give us a seam to exploit.”

  Yuan nodded, not understanding what was being asked. He said, “We’re doing that. We’ve been attacking them on every available platform. It doesn’t get any traction. They simply don’t like China.”

  “Yes, yes, that’s correct. And that’s exactly what I want to use. What does the Taiwanese population most fear?”

  “Our takeover.”

  “True, but that’s not the fear I mean. What do they fear from their leaders?”

  Yuan thought for a moment, then said, “Capitulation to us?”

  “Exactly. Can you seed that fear into the fabric of their society? Make it seem as if the administration—while stridently hawking a hard line against the PRC—actually plans to begin increasing ties to us. It will generate unrest. Get people in the streets. Can you do that?”

  “I can with some data points on the inside. Some leverage that I don’t currently own.”

  Han nodded, saying, “Like what?”

  “Videos of speakers, audio of them, images. Something I can manipulate. The more data, the better, to make it seem real. Fakes are easy to spot. Do you have anyone on the inside for that? Someone close to the administration? Can we use Leopard?”

  Han said, “Leopard isn’t any help. He’s a damn criminal. Running the Bamboo Triad will help for the unrest, but not for what you want. Honestly, he’s so hot right now I might have to eliminate him anyway.”

  Yuan’s eyes widened at how casually Han made the statement. He remained silent. Han pulled his lip, thinking. Finally, he said, “We have a man on the inside. Code-named Ocelot. He’s very highly placed, and we leverage him for information only. He can do it, but he’ll have a short life span. If I use him, he’s done.”

  Yuan said, “If your plan works, it won’t matter.”

  Chapter 17

  Dunkin headed back the way he had come from work, his eyes glued to his rearview mirror. He entered the A9, driving north, and a car fell in behind him. He didn’t recognize it as one of the two from before, but it still caused him angst. He thought about pulling the same stunt he had earlier, but instead just increased his speed. The car disappeared behind him, apparently minding its own business.

  Dunkin exhaled, traveled another mile, and then exited the highway, turning onto a two-lane road divided by a median. His girlfriend’s house was a little over a mile away. He saw traffic behind him but was no longer worried. It was a residential area, the avenue lined by houses on both sides. He crossed a creek, the bridge modern with a bike path to the right, the foliage on the sides of the road manicured. He began to relax.

  He would be the first to admit his apartment complex was on the seedy side, but his girlfriend lived in an upscale area, all of the houses and duplexes fairly recent builds, complete with landscaping that extended beyond the yards of the residences. It gave him a blanket of security that was wholly undeserved.

  He took a left off of the road, drove another quarter mile, and then pulled into his girlfriend’s apartment complex, a modern three-story building with balconies at each level and a gate at the entry. He parked the car and sat for a minute, watching the ebb and flow of traffic. Nothing happened. He shook his head, now embarrassed at what he’d done, trying to come up with a story of why he had shown up three hours early.

  He punched in the code to the gate, walked to a staircase that split the building in two, went up to the second floor, and found his girlfriend’s door. He hesitated, wondering if maybe he shouldn’t just go back home and meet Pike. Wondering if he wasn’t going a little batty over Jake’s actions.

  He knocked. Nobody answered. He knocked again, and heard, “Hang on. I’m coming.”

  He strolled to the end of the walkway, thinking about what he would say. He put his hands on the railing and gazed into the parking lot outside. And saw the car that had been with him when he entered the A9, parked right next to his. He jumped back out of sight, the adrenaline from the last hour pouring back into him.

  He crouched down and inched forward again, seeing another car approach. One he recognized as the model outside his office earlier in the day. An Asian man and woman exited, conferred with the other car, and then three doors opened, spilling out men. All Asian.

  He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, but ignored it, intently watching. One of the men pointed toward his floor, and the driver from the second car gave orders. He began panting, wondering what was coming. Behind him, he heard, “Dunkin? What are you doing?”

  He turned around, seeing his girlfriend, Nicole Shoemaker, peeking out of the door with a towel on her head, wearing a bathrobe.

  He sprang up and pushed her inside the door, saying, “Get some clothes on. Get dressed.”

  She shoved him back, saying, “What the hell are you doing?”

  He ran to the window and looked out, then panicked. “Shit. Shit, shit, shit.” He turned to her and said, “We have to go. Right now. Go get dressed. We have seconds.”

  She saw the sweat on his brow and smelled the fear. She said, “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t have time to explain. Go get dressed!”

  She nodded and ran into her room. Ten seconds later she was pulling on a sweatshirt over her bare breasts and hiking up jeans without panties. She shoved her feet into a set of flip-flops and said again, “What’s going on?”

  “No flip-flops. Put on shoes.” He pulled the shade back again and said, “Jesus Christ! Do it now!”

  She heard the urgency in his voice and ran back into her room. When she came back out, Dunkin was on the balcony at the back of the apartment, looking at the drop. She came to him and said, “What the hell is going on?”

  “I don’t have time to explain, but we need to leave right now. Right here.”

  “Over the damn balcony? Have you lost your mind?”

  Dunkin cupped her chin in his hands and said, “You know when I talked about my past? Where I was some secret American commando?”

  She hesitantly nodded, then said, “Yes?”

  “Well, that was all bullshit. I worked for some commandos, but I wasn’t one. Now someone’s hunting me, and I don’t know if I can keep us alive. I don’t have the skill. We need to run. Run like hell.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  He pushed her to the edge of the balcony and said, “You need to jump. I’ll be right behind you. We need to do it now. We have seconds.”

  “Are you crazy? Jump? Why?”

  “Because there are some men coming here who want to kill me! And they’ll kill you! They’re about five seconds away!”

  He pushed her to the railing and said, “Hang over and drop. Please, dear God, don’t fight anymore. They’re coming.”

  She did as he asked, seeing the absolute terror on his face. She crawled over, hung for a moment, looked below her, then said, “I can’t do this! Pull me up.”

  Instead, he pried her hands from the railing. She screamed, falling into the bushes below. He scrambled over and followed her, landing on his ass right next to her.

  She stood up, incensed and confused, holding her hip. She punched him in the face, screaming, “You son of a bitch! I’m calling the police!” He took the hit, grabbed her hands, then held a finger to his lips, pointing to her balcony. She looked up and saw an Asian man exit. She said, “What—”

  He cut her off, dragging her into the bushes underneath the balcony, out of sight. He said, “Where is your car?”

  She pointed and he said, “You need to trust me. Let’s go. We need to get the fuck out of here.”

  She said, “Are you nuts? I just fell twenty feet into some bushes. It’s amazing I can even walk. I’m pretty sure I won’t be walking tomorrow. What the hell is going on?”

  “Nicole . . . Nicole . . . I can’t explain right here. I just can’t. We need to leave.”

  She took a breath, glanced upward toward her apartment, then nodded, saying, “Whatever you tell me had better be good.”

  The man went back inside, and they raced to the rear parking lot, entered her car, and fled the area, saying not a word. When they were back on the A9, headed away from her apartment, Nicole said, “Okay, what the hell is going on? Who are you?”

  Dunkin pulled out his phone and said, “I’m a nobody. I lied to you before. I’m not some secret agent man. I’m just a computer nerd. And I don’t know why those guys were chasing me, but they were. They were trying to hurt me.”

  She said, “Wait, so you weren’t in Special Forces?”

  He saw a missed call from Pike Logan and breathed a sigh of relief. He turned to her and said, “No, I wasn’t, but I have some friends who were. And they’re a holy terror.”

  Chapter 18

  Chen entered the apartment with his pistol drawn, not wanting to make a mess of blood and gore, but willing to do so in order to cut off further disaster.

  His team swiftly cleared the small area and found nothing. He saw the open balcony door, ran to it, looked over, and said, “They’re in the wind.”

  His female partner, Zhi, said, “We need to find them. Kill them quickly. This is getting out of control.”

  He nodded and began giving orders, saying, “Find me anything that ties to this apartment. Find out who lives here.”

  Zhi said, “Let me recontact the 3PLA. That’s the quickest way to locate him. They probably have the phone now. He needs to be put in the ground before this spreads like a virus.”

  Chen said, “I don’t want to get them involved. We’re on our own here. We’ve been given our orders, and they expect us to succeed.”

  She approached him and gently touched his arms. “You were willing to get them involved earlier.”

  “That was before we had a thread to him. We have one now.”

  “How? We have an apartment. And no bodies.”

  He said, “Did you kill the politician we’d recruited because you wanted to? Or because it was necessary?”

  He saw the shock on her face, and the abrupt change in demeanor. She dropped her hands and said, “Are you questioning my commitment?”

  “No. Not at all. His death is proof of your commitment. I’m questioning your judgment.”

  She shifted yet again, closing on him and wrapping her hands around his neck, stroking his jugular with the middle nail of her right hand, saying, “You didn’t question that judgment last night.”

  He felt the heat and pushed her away, seeing the crazy blossom in her eyes at his rejection.

  He said, “Not here. Not now. Last night was a mistake. Get back into focus.” She turned feral, looking like she wanted to use the nail for real.

  They waited in silence, letting the men search. A cat jumped on a counter, allowing Zhi to pick it up. She scratched behind its ears as if she were rebuking Chen for his rejection of her. Eventually, one man came back with an assortment of bills and said, “These are all for a woman named Nicole Shoemaker. She’s who lives here.”

  Chen took the bills and said, “Why did he come here? Who is she?”

  “No idea. That’s all we’ve found.”

  Zhi said, “You want to keep dancing around the issue? Or find the guy? We have his phone.”

  Chen saw her anger, and said, “Okay. Call the Third Department. Let’s get them in play.”

  She gave him a smile, a dead thing that reminded him of teeth from a roadkill, and dialed the phone. He turned back to the men and said, “Get me an anchor here. Besides a name.”