The Patriot Attack (19 page)

Northeastern Japan

J
on Smith opened his eyes and stared up at the fluorescent light hanging above him. Beyond it was an earthen ceiling, and judging from the rock jammed into his spine, the floor was similarly constructed.

He eased into a sitting position and made a quick survey of his surroundings: a small cave that, based on the uniform striations in the walls, had been created by machine. The space was no bigger than ten by ten feet and there was a single door built out of a reddish material with a visible carbon fiber weave. Other than that, there was only a simple wood table and a couple of matching chairs.

He stood unsteadily, focusing for a moment on his physical condition. His back wasn’t as bad as it could be—thank God Ueda’s office had been on the first floor. Not that it had done the engineer much good.

He remembered hitting the ground with the man’s injured wife and calling Randi. After that, there was nothing until he’d woken up in this place.

Smith took a seat in one of the chairs and saw that a cut on the back of his hand had been patched up. Better than the alternative, he supposed, but waking up in unidentifiable places with a bunch of doctored wounds hadn’t been working out all that well for him lately.

He considered going to work on the door with one of the chairs, but after a few moments decided it would be a waste of time. Instead, his thoughts turned to Randi. Had she done what he’d told her? Had she turned tail and run?

He hoped the fact that she wasn’t there with him suggested yes, but she could just as easily be dead. Or imprisoned at a facility closer to her target.

The door began to slide back and Smith rose from the chair and took a step back. He put a hand on the chair, but as weapons went it wasn’t exactly state of the art. For now it might be better to just figure out where he stood. If an opportunity arose, he could always take it.

The man who came in was immediately recognizable. A full five inches shorter than Smith, he had a solid, stocky build and a weathered face beneath military-cut gray hair.

“General Takahashi,” Smith said, bowing subtly. It was vaguely possible that he could kill the man before anyone came to his aid, but there was no way to know if that would solve problems or create more. Civility seemed to be a wiser course of action at this point.

Takahashi returned the bow as the door closed automatically behind him. “Colonel Smith.” He motioned toward the table. “Please sit. It’s my understanding that that you’re injured.”

It would have been disrespectful to refuse, so Smith took a chair and watched the general as he did the same.

“Randi Russell?” Takahashi said simply.

His first reaction was to lie, but that would just insult the old soldier’s intelligence. “She was on a similar mission. I told her to abort after I ran into your…toys.”

The old man nodded. “A self-propelled, self-directed antipersonnel weapon. As yet a bit unsophisticated. We can limit them to a certain area but beyond that they just seek out body-heat signatures. I’m told that more advanced targeting computers are too heavy.”

That explained why they hadn’t gone for him specifically and why they hadn’t chased him through the window. Lack of sophistication notwithstanding, the weapon had terrifying potential if dropped into the middle of an advancing infantry. And as far as Smith knew, nothing even remotely similar was under development by the United States.

“But that’s not what got me, is it, General?”

“No. Genjiro’s house was surrounded by tiny grains of silicon that are very similar to sand but charged by solar radiation. When a certain remote signal is given, they rearrange themselves into a circuit and can deliver quite an electric shock. Think of it as a twenty-first-century minefield. Depending on the circuit created, it can kill or incapacitate. More important, though, it can be permanently shut down after hostilities end. No more generations of children having their limbs blown off by mines left behind. A significant improvement, don’t you think?”

Smith actually did, but decided not to admit it. “Ironic that Genjiro would be killed by something he had a hand in designing.”

Takahashi nodded. “And unfortunate. He made significant contributions over the years. Having said that, his time was coming to an end. As a soldier and scientist, I imagine that you’ve discovered the same thing I have: War favors the wise and experienced. Science prefers the young and inspired.”

Smith didn’t respond.

“Do you know where you are, Colonel?”

“I can only speculate.”

Takahashi leaned back in his chair and waved him on. “Please do.”

“After losing Reactor Four, you’d need a new venue to work on your nanotech weapon that eats metal, concrete, and plastic. I notice none of those materials are present in this room. You’d still need radiation to kill it just in case, though. So, I’d have to guess an underground nuclear waste storage facility.”

The old soldier smiled. “I would say that you live up to your reputation, but I have to admit that I know surprisingly little about it. We have excellent penetration into America’s military computers as well as those at the CIA and NSA. They all seem to indicate that you’re a microbiologist. I think you’d say virus hunter.”

“Maybe your access isn’t as good as you think, General.”

“I believe it is. We’ve been developing supercomputer and cyber warfare technology since the early eighties. Your own NSA is about ten years behind us. A much more likely explanation is that you’re not here at the behest of any of those organizations.”

Fred Klein insisted that Covert-One’s computers be completely cut off from the outside world. If you wanted to access them, you had to be physically sitting behind one of the terminals at the marina. And getting to one of those terminals without Klein’s permission would be a challenge for the Eighty-Second Airborne.

“Knowledge is power,” Smith said noncommittally.

Takahashi smiled, obviously not expecting him to just roll over and give up his employer. “As is technology. You directed the military’s development of Dresner’s Merge unit, did you not?”

“Yes, sir.” It was more or less public knowledge, so he didn’t see any harm in admitting it.

“A fascinating system. Limited, of course. But I was very interested to see where you were taking it.” He looked at Smith as though he were a gifted child. “I greatly regret that you weren’t born Japanese, Colonel. You would have done very well on my staff.”

Smith accepted the compliment with a respectful nod. The endless pages of information he’d gone through on Takahashi had painted a picture of an extremely formidable soldier. But sitting there across from him, Smith realized they hadn’t captured the full extent of the man.

“So you weren’t as impressed by the Merge as I was,” Smith said, trying to draw him into saying more about the technologies his people had developed. Surprisingly, Takahashi seemed completely unguarded on the subject.

“What you were working on was already obsolete, Colonel. There’s no way to improve the soldier. No matter how well equipped he is, he’s still flesh and blood, driven by unpredictable and unstable emotions.”

“Obsolete,” Smith repeated, thoughtfully. “Like your battleship?”

From his expression, it was clear that Takahashi knew he was being baited. He just didn’t seem to care. “The
Izumo
was just a piece of military theater. Something for our people to rally around and to keep the Chinese off balance.”

“But you’ve obviously done better.”

“Unquestionably. My predecessor started with a blank page. He threw out everything we thought we knew about warfare and brought in philosophers and scientists who’d never had anything to do with the battlefield. Together they imagined something completely new.”

“And you managed to find the talent to build it.”

“Young people in America are quite self-absorbed, don’t you think? The Japanese are nationalistic by their very nature. Most of the people I approached were honored to be asked to serve their country. The rest were convinced by my financial resources.”

“Convinced to do what, though, sir? Start a war with China?”

Takahashi’s face became a mask. “At your country’s insistence, the Japanese people gave up their right to project power militarily. We made up for that somewhat with the strength of our economy, but a superpower needs both. Certainly you understand that. You’re a soldier serving the second-most-powerful military in history.”

Smith ignored the sudden demotion to runner-up. “I can’t help thinking that you’re telling me a great deal, General.”

It was likely that it didn’t matter because he was going to be tortured for information and then killed afterward, but it seemed sensible to bring up the subject.

“Our countries are allies, Colonel. Nothing I’ve done is intended to harm our close relationship.”

Smith noticed the lack of emotion in Takahashi’s voice. At best, he saw the United States as a necessary evil. At worst, a problem that he hadn’t yet figured out how to solve.

“Can I assume, then, that I’m free to go?”

Takahashi actually laughed. “I think that can eventually be arranged, Colonel. But first, I’d ask a favor.”

“Sir?”

“Your president is personally hosting a meeting between China’s leadership and our prime minister. It begins tomorrow in Australia. I’d like you to contact your superiors and request a private meeting between him and me while he’s there.”

Takahashi reached into his pocket and retrieved a phone, sliding it across the table.

“Take me at my word that this summit is meaningless, Colonel. We’re entering a new era and it’s time our countries discuss how it can be brought in with the minimum chaos.”

“You mean how the world will be divided up between us.”

“If you prefer.”

Takahashi stood and gave a short bow before walking to the door. A moment later Smith was alone again in the locked cave.

There was no way to know for certain the capabilities of Takahashi’s military, but even if it was just what Smith had experienced firsthand, the face of war would be changed forever. If the man had actually found a way to control his nanotech to the point that he could deploy it as a weapon, then the US military and the rest of the world’s militaries combined were now irrelevant.

He reached for the phone and dialed one of many emergency numbers he’d committed to memory long ago. It would be routed through the analog phone system of Myanmar, passing through a house with two handsets literally taped together. And when the conversation was over, that house would conveniently burn down.

Not surprisingly, Klein picked up on the first ring.

“Yes.”

“We have a bit of a situation, sir.”

“Are you all right?”

“For now.”

“But you managed to get to a phone.”

“A phone was provided.”

“I see. To what end?”

“The general would like a private meeting with our friend while he’s on his southern vacation.”

“Understood. And are you recommending that our friend take the meeting?”

“I think it would be wise.”

“Can he contact the general directly with his response?”

“I imagine so. He doesn’t seem particularly concerned about confidentiality.”

“And you? Is there anything we can do to help you?”

It was an interesting question. In the end, though, he appeared to be inside the facility where the nanoweapon was being developed. While the chances were remote, it was possible that he could figure out some way to cause trouble.

“No. I’ll be fine.”

“Thank you for the call. And good luck.”

Tokyo
Japan

R
andi Russell slung the bag over her shoulder and dodged along the crowded sidewalk, watching her reflection in the store windows for anyone taking undue notice. Beyond a few admiring glances from the men she passed, her practiced eye spotted nothing. By design, she wasn’t the only Caucasian on the street. Covert-One didn’t keep a safe house in Tokyo, and Klein had been forced to set one up with less time and forethought than he usually brought to the task. They’d agreed that the best bet would be to hide in plain sight—to rent an apartment in a part of the city heavily frequented by foreign tourists and businessmen.

Randi cut right and jogged up a stairway leading to a set of glass doors. She pressed her hand against a palm reader—the Japanese loved technology—and heard the lock buzz. A moment later she was striding across a tastefully minimalist lobby toward a bank of elevators.

The one on the right was open and she ducked inside, keeping an eye on the glass front of the condo building as she punched in her floor number. Still nothing, but it didn’t mean much. In that kind of a crowd, a professional surveillance team would be virtually impossible to detect. And that didn’t even take into consideration probable hacks into the surveillance cameras that bristled from just about every wall in Tokyo. At this point, pretty much everything had become a roll of the dice. And those dice were most likely loaded.

The elevator rose smoothly to her floor without anyone else getting on. Randi put a hand on the Beretta under her jacket as she stepped into the hallway. Empty.

She moved quickly, feeling uncomfortable out in the open. A wave of her key card in front of a door near the back of the corridor caused it to pop open and she stepped through.

A man jumped up from the sofa that was nearly all the furniture that would fit in the tiny space, watching her with a startled expression.

“You’re not Jon.”

“They told me you were smart,” Randi said, entering the kitchen to empty her bag of the ramen and beer it contained. As expected, the refrigerator was no bigger than the one she’d had in college. Space in Tokyo was at an incredible premium, and while she would have liked to go with something a bit roomier, those kinds of condos tended to attract attention. Better to be just another one of the anonymous millions wedged into three hundred square feet.

“Who are you?”

“That’s not really important,” she said, tossing him a beer and taking one for herself. She came out of the kitchen and went straight for the couch. “Now, let’s have a chat about nanotechnology.”

Greg Maple looked down at her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Instead of looking away after the lie, he kept staring—studying her face with an enigmatic expression that was more complicated than the fear she expected under the circumstances.

“What?” Randi said, popping open her beer and taking a swig.

“You…” Maple started. “You look like someone I used to know.”

Randi didn’t immediately react. Maple and Smith had been friends for a long time. Long enough for him to have met her sister.

“You mean Sophie.”

His eyes widened. They looked enough alike that Randi had become used to the reaction. It was still gut-wrenching to think about her dead sister—Jon’s dead fiancée—but at least she was practiced at it now.

“You’re Randi Russell?” Maple said.

“In the flesh.”

“CIA.”

She nodded.

“I knew it!” Maple said, pulling up a folding chair. Their knees almost touched in the tiny space. “He’s military intelligence. You’re working together.”

“That’s right,” she said. It was the obvious assumption and she decided to run with it.

“Where is he? Is he okay?”

That was a hard question to answer because she honestly didn’t know. According to Klein, when Smith had called to set up a meeting between the president and Takahashi, he’d sounded fine. There was no way to know if that was still the case, though.

“We’ve lost him.”

“Lost?”

“Misplaced,” she corrected. “Temporarily. And in the meantime, I’m filling in.”

“Is that why you had me kidnapped?” he said with a little understandable anger coming to the surface.

She decided not to acknowledge it. “It’s my understanding that you’ve taken the lead on this nanotech problem. I need to know what you’ve learned.”

“You could have picked up a phone instead of dragging me all the way to Japan.”

“Phones are too hard to secure, Greg. I prefer to have my conversations face-to-face. Now drink your beer before it gets warm.”

He popped open the can obediently and took a swig, but it didn’t seem to make him any less nervous.

“So? Have you figured out anything that can help me?”

He shook his head. “Probably not that can help you, but things that are…amazing.”

“Let’s hear those, then. Keeping in mind that I’m not Jon. I’m not a scientist.”

“Okay. I found a couple of structures that didn’t seem to have anything to do with the machine’s ability to copy itself.”

“Jon told me about them. You didn’t know what they were for. Have you figured it out?”

“I think so. The first is to control the number of times the individual unit can replicate. So you take one nanobot and you set the replication counter to ten. It makes ten new bots, but each of those can only make nine. And in turn, each of those can only make eight. When you get to zero, replication ends. In that example, you’d end up with millions of bots before it’s all over. If you were to set that initial parameter at a thousand instead of ten, you’re talking numbers that are hard to even imagine.”

Randi frowned and set her beer down. “You said a couple. What about the other structure?”

“That seems to relate to magnetism.”

“They attract each other?”

He shook his head. “I think they measure the earth’s magnetic field.”

“What for?”

“Probably to locate themselves—like birds.”

She let that process for a moment and didn’t like the conclusion she was coming to. “So, if they know where they are, it’s possible that they could be programmed to work only in a certain geographic area and to go dormant outside that area.”

“Very possible.”

They had known the technology worked—the machines were clearly able to self-replicate using steel, plastic, and concrete as fuel. What Jon hadn’t been sure of was whether it could be weaponized. Weapons had to be deadly, but just as important they had to be controllable. If you had a gun, you had to be able to aim it. And that’s exactly what Maple was talking about.

She wanted to ask more, but was unsure how much to reveal. In the end, though, Maple wasn’t an idiot. With the facts he already had, it seemed reasonable to assume that he’d already considered the scenario she was interested in.

“Then you’re telling me I could make it so these things only worked, say, in China. When they crossed over the border into another country, they’d just stop reproducing.”

“Assuming that the system is foolproof. The problem with replication is that it’s hard not to introduce errors.
Mutations
is probably a better word. Usually, those mutations are neither here nor there. Sometimes they kill the organism, or in this case break the machine. But every once in a while, they could make the machine better.”

“And by ‘better,’ you mean better at reproduction. There could be a mutation that turns off the control system.”

“Exactly. Theoretically, errors could be introduced that would allow the machines to replicate indefinitely or operate outside the programmed geographic borders. Even worse, though, you could get changes to the type of fuel the bots use. What if they became capable of eating rock? Or water? Or flesh? That’s potentially end-of-the-world stuff.”

“What if that happened? How would we stop them?”

“Radiation. And a lot of it. That’s the only thing I’m aware of that can kill these things.”

She let out a long breath and picked up her beer again. “That’s why it was developed in Fukushima, right, Doc? So they’d have a way to kill it if they lost control.”

“That would be my guess. Everything was probably going along fine and then the tsunami caused a containment breach. It forced them to irradiate Reactor Four.”

“Okay. Let’s assume they’re still working on this thing—either developing it or manufacturing it. They’d still need that safeguard, right? Access to radiation.”

“I assume so.”

“Okay. Then put yourself in their shoes. Where would you be?”

“A nuclear sub would be ideal. Easy to irradiate and even if you didn’t get them all, they’d end up at the bottom of the ocean. With no fuel chain, they’d corrode in the salt water before they could make it to civilization.”

“It’s a little hard to make pronouncements about the Japanese military right now, but building something as big as a nuclear sub without anyone knowing doesn’t seem plausible. Even for Takahashi.”

“Yeah, I thought of that too,” Maple said. “But I have a theory. Do you want to hear it?”

“Hell yes, I want to hear it.”

“A few years ago, the Japanese built a facility to store the nuclear waste from their reactors. It’s carved out of a mountain in the northeast. That’s it. If I was working on this thing, that’s where I’d be set up.”