The Widow's Strike (24 page)

K
urt was doing
all he
could to keep from outright yelling at me through the computer screen, clearly on the verge of exploding about the actions at Kowloon Park.

I said, “Sir, it wasn’t our fault! They laid a trap, and we came close to triggering it. If it hadn’t been for Jennifer, we’d be in the custody of the Hong Kong police.”

“Jesus, Pike, I sent you there to develop the situation. Not get in a gunfight. Especially not get in a gunfight on Chinese soil. The council’s losing their mind right now. No telling what they’ll do when they hear this.”

The comment gave me pause. “What’s that mean?”

He backpedaled. “Nothing. It’s just that this virus threat is really scaring the shit out of everyone, and people are starting to wonder if the Taskforce is the correct tool. They want to go on war footing over it, to include punishing Iran preemptively.”

“What the hell are you talking about? They’ve been building a nuclear weapon for the last ten years and we’ve done nothing but blow a lot of hot air. Now we think they have a bioweapon and we’re going to nuke them? Who the hell is running the show back there? Jesus, give me some space to do what you pay me for. To figure this thing out.”

His next words sent a chill down my spine. “Are you alone?”

I turned and saw Decoy out of camera range. I motioned him out of the room and said, “Yeah, I am now.”

“Look, the president isn’t involved right now. He’s read on the vice president, and he’s running the show. Which means nobody is.”

I was amazed that the political world still had the ability to astound me with its stupidity. “Why is that? If this is so dangerous, the president should be front and center.”

Kurt said, “Well . . . believe it or not, the president has come down with the flu. A very bad case of the flu. They don’t want anyone to know, but he’s doing nothing but the public stuff that was already on the calendar. If it’s a private meeting, it’s postponed, which means he’s waved off on all Taskforce activities. He’s apparently getting briefed, but the doctor has ordered rest for at least two days. He’s put Vice President Hannister in charge.”

Phillip Hannister had been put on the ticket for domestic reasons in the last election. A genius at economics, he’d spent his entire career working with the Federal Reserve and the International Monetary Fund. He was a wizard at domestic debates on the deficit and reducing the debt, but he was an idiot on foreign policy. Which was why he’d never been read on to Taskforce activities. He had no need to know.

And now he was in charge.

I said, “What’s that mean to us? I mean right now?”

“Nothing currently. I haven’t had a chance to brief them on your escapades. But it would help if you could give me some good news before he makes a decision we’ll all regret.”

“Well, I don’t really have any. I’m trying to track some phones to get some intel and I’m told you guys won’t play ball. I have Jennifer on a goose chase to Macau and have everyone else coming back here. These damn ten-minute phone pings aren’t working.”

I’d pulled in Retro and Decoy but let Jennifer run out her hunch, even thought it meant she’d be on her own in Macau. I was pretty sure getting on the ferry was stupid, but she seemed to think that nothing else explained the last cell ping.

I knew I had been right when she called after docking and said there were no males of Arabic descent anywhere on the boat. In fact, nothing of any suspicion whatsoever.

The final ping we’d received was in the general vicinity of the Hong Kong piers, and because we couldn’t get any drill-down, we’d had to use a little deductive reasoning. Jennifer had boarded the boat to Macau, and Decoy had boarded the next ferry across the harbor. Neither had panned out. The next ping had been dead, with no location.

Kurt said, “I hear you, but we aren’t going to start a war with China over this. We can’t dig into their network.”

I said, “Can’t, or won’t? I mean, you talk about how scared everyone is, then when I ask for a lock, I’m told that we’re afraid of someone over here
suspecting
we’re hacking their network. Who gives a shit about that? So they say we did it. If we stop a damn pandemic, they’ll give us flowers.”

Kurt looked down, then back at the camera. “It’s a little more complicated than that.”

And I realized exactly what was going on. It wasn’t about someone
suspecting
a hack and a little bad press. It was because we
were
hacking them, and the additional scrutiny could flush that out. They were worried that my actions would blow some other top-secret covert operation.

I said nothing for a second, turning the implications over in my mind. I understood how hard such activities were, and the reluctance to risk the effort, but also that at the end of the day you needed to measure what was gained by acting versus what was lost by inaction.

“Sir, I hear everything you’re saying loud and clear. And I realize that’s not a Taskforce call. Not our operation. But someone needs to get a handle on the damn ten-meter target. This guy has a weapon that could potentially wipe out a third of the human race. Stack that against the intel we’re getting from whatever mission is going on.”

“I know. Give me something to work with.”

“I did! The damn phones, but we lost them.”

“Both? What about the other one at the Islamic center?”

“It ended up on the ferry piers as well, on the Kowloon side. By the time we staged, it was dead as well. I think they met up and no longer needed the phones. Other than that, Knuckles got Ernie’s phone. He saw him get arrested, but the cops missed the phone he tossed in the bushes. It’s the same one we were already tracking. We’ll check it for forensics, but I’m sure it’s clean. That’s what they were using to bait us.”

Decoy entered the room. “Pike, I hate to interrupt, but Jennifer’s calling. She wants to know how many telecom companies are in Macau. She thinks maybe we’re using the wrong one for the pings.”

I turned from the computer and said, “This isn’t the United States, with a hundred different networks. Tell her to get back here. We’re going to need everyone to figure out a direction to go.”

Kurt said, “What was that about?”

“Jennifer. She wants to start pinging other networks on a fishing expedition.” As I said it, a horrible truth dawned. “Sir, does Macau have a different network than Hong Kong? Did your guys check that?”

I’d assumed that it would be the same telecom architecture, since the islands were so close together and it was Communist China terrain now. But it hadn’t always been that way. Macau had been turned over to the Chinese
after
Hong Kong, and long after an independent network would have been established.

I could tell he’d clicked on the same screw-up I had. “I don’t know. Stand by.”

I hollered out the door, “Start packing your things. Blood, check on the next ferry to Macau. Retro, get down there and recce the customs and transfer procedures. I want to know if they search bags or put anything through an X-ray. Decoy, call Jennifer back and tell her to stand by. Tell her to get us some hotel rooms in Macau.”

Decoy came through the door, dialing a phone. “What’s up?”

“I don’t think the phones are turned off. I think they just shifted to another network, and we were too stupid to ask the Taskforce to do the same.”

Kurt came on. “You get the tracks? They’re still active.”

My phone vibrated, showing one phone on the island of Macau and the other in the South China Sea.

On a ferry.

S
taring out her
window on
the fourteenth floor, eating her final bit of room service, Elina studied the purple neon monstrosity near her hotel, called, of all things, the Hard Rock Hotel. She had no idea why someone would give a hotel such a moniker. She had seen young Chechen men wearing T-shirts with the same logo and wondered if they had come from here. Maybe she’d find out, since her meeting was in a bar off the lobby. In fifteen minutes.

She studied the street in front of the hotel, looking for landmarks. Adjacent to the Hard Rock, she saw another large neon sign proclaiming
CITY OF DREAMS
. She Googled it on her iPad and found it to be nothing more than a shopping mall. Something that should be easy to ask directions for—and get her to the Hard Rock Hotel.

She placed her plate onto the room service tray and checked her phone for any new messages, halfway hoping there would be one announcing that the meeting was postponed. The phone log was empty. She placed it in her purse and left the room.

Reaching the lobby, she turned away from the main entrance and walked through a small level of shops, following the signs for the City of Dreams. Reaching the street, she saw the Hard Rock, the neon lights covering its tower flickering a multitude of colors in the night.

She reached the ornate entrance and studied the lobby bar, a sunken, dimly lit den filled with couches and overstuffed chairs. In the back, at a table for two, was Malik.

She paused, wondering if she was supposed to acknowledge him. He half stood and waved, a smile on his face.

He pulled out her chair, as if for chivalry, but she knew it was so that he could keep the chair against the window, allowing him to view the room.

His first words were a mass of information on what to say if she were ever questioned about this meeting. A false story that would provide an innocuous cover and lead away from the truth. He told her to repeat it back, and she did, respecting his attention to detail. Respecting how he had her welfare uppermost in his mind.

He said, “Did you have any trouble coming here?”

“No. Not really, other than the fact that nobody speaks English.”

He laughed and said, “So you’ve seen nothing strange? Nobody who looked like they were following you? Any western men that you’ve seen more than once?”

She wondered why he asked. “No, nothing like that. Is there something I should be aware of?”

“Yes. I believe there’s a team tracking me, and I want to make sure they never connect us. I can be forfeited, but you must remain in the shadows. Keep your eyes out.”

He reached beneath his seat and brought out a small black Pelican box made of hard plastic, the lid snapped shut. He placed it delicately on the table.

“This is the virus. It is very, very deadly. You took the vaccine, yes?”

She nodded, her eyes wide.

“Open this when you are back in your room. It won’t harm you but will kill anyone else who has the misfortune of contacting it. Inside is a glass syringe packed in several different plastic bags for protection. Next to the syringe is a rubber-stoppered vial with a cleansing solution. After you have injected yourself, put the needle into the solution and draw it into the syringe, filling it completely up. Let it sit for a few minutes, then spray it down the sink. Use the rest of the solution to thoroughly wash the outside of the syringe.”

“Where do I inject myself?”

“Doesn’t matter. You only need a drop inside your bloodstream, and there’s much more than that in the syringe. Your arm or thigh would probably be easiest.”

She placed the box into her shoulder bag, then said, “What about the explosives? And the actual target? When will I get that?”

He smiled and held up his hands. “Wait, wait. We’re not through with the virus yet. I’ll provide that information when you need it, and I’ll provide you with the explosives. Don’t worry.”

She nodded, waiting on him to continue.

“After you have injected yourself, do not leave your room for at least twenty-four hours, maybe longer. The doctor indicated that initially you might be virulently contagious, as if you had no vaccine, but he was sure that would pass. The key will be your eyes. They will turn bloodshot. Very, very bloodshot. When that clears up, you can enter the population. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“When you do leave, remember what we talked about before. Use a hand sanitizer all the time, drink only bottled water, don’t eat anywhere that has silverware and plates to wash. Avoid anything that has the chance of spreading the virus.”

He passed across a thin envelope. “This is an open-ended round-trip ticket to the United States. You’ll also find a rental car and two hotel reservations. Land, get the rental, and begin driving. The first hotel is midway. The second is your destination. But not your target. You’ll have final instructions in the room. Keep your phone and check your e-mail account.”

She said, “What about my passport? Won’t I need a visa?”

“No. Your passport is from Latvia, correct?”

“Yes. It was the best country because they still have a large population that speaks Russian.”

“They’re on the United States visa waiver program. You don’t need one.”

“And money?”

He passed across another envelope. “There are five prepaid credit cards in there with one thousand dollars each. That should be enough.”

She felt she should have more questions but couldn’t come up with any.

He said, “This will be our last meeting until I see you just prior to the attack. Remember all that I have said. Remember to look around you and to not highlight yourself in any way. You are invisible right now. I want to keep it that way until the time is right.” He took her hands. “You are the weapon that will free your people. Remember that when you feel lost.”

She started, wondering if he could read her mind. She nodded. “I will. I promise.”

He leaned back. “Good. Now go, and good luck. I’ll give you twenty minutes before I leave.”

She stood and turned without a word, walking back toward the lobby. As instructed, she surveyed the room looking for invisible spies.

She saw a woman in the corner, by herself, and felt a flush of adrenaline.

It was the woman who had helped her on the ferry.

J
ennifer paid no
attention to
the meeting occurring at the end of the lounge. She simply sat and sipped her club soda, as if she were waiting on someone to meet her. Which, in truth, she was. Thirty minutes ago, the final ping had placed both phones directly inside the Hard Rock Hotel. She’d called Pike and found that the rest of the team were still minutes from landing at the ferry pier, so she’d gone in alone.

The geolocation of the phones didn’t work in three dimensions, so there was really little chance that she’d find anything. The meeting could have been happening at any room on any floor. She simply intended to find a good location with a view of the elevators to gather what she could and await the team’s arrival.

She had been astounded when she’d spotted the general in the lounge, then shocked again at who he was meeting. She’d surreptitiously studied the meeting for the last fifteen minutes, praying the team would arrive before it ended.

It didn’t work out that way. She saw the woman from the ferry rise and called Pike again.

“Meeting’s over. General’s still in the lounge, but the unknown is leaving. Pike, it’s a woman who was on the ferry with me. A western woman.”

“We’re in some rentals and we’re about two minutes out. Did he pass anything to her?”

“Yes. A number of things, but they were too far away to identify.”

“Take the unknown. We’ll take the general.”

“How tight do you want the follow? What’s my compromise level?”

“Very low. If she’s got the virus, we can’t lose her. Don’t worry about her suspecting something. Just find her bed-down site. If you’re compromised hard and she rabbits, take her down however you can.”

Great. Just perfect. We’ll both go to jail from a catfight.

The woman passed right in front of her and glanced her way, then hurriedly exited the lobby. Jennifer followed, seeing her on the street headed toward the Venetian casino.

She considered her options. She knew she stood out in the mass of Asians and would be easy to spot if the woman had any training whatsoever. She considered simply jogging up to her and engaging her in conversation, just another single female looking for some companionship. She’d sensed the woman wanted that on the ferry. Seeing her caught at the light, she decided to execute that plan.

Casually get next to her at the crosswalk, then express surprise at seeing her.

She quickened her pace so as to be held up at the light as well. The woman sprinted through the traffic to the far side of the road.

Shit
.

The woman hadn’t glanced back, hadn’t acted like she was fleeing, so Jennifer felt fairly confident she was just jaywalking. Having done her homework while waiting on the phone geolocation, the woman’s destination was problematic. The Venetian was the largest casino in the world, encompassing a multilevel indoor mall complete with faux indoor canals threaded throughout, along with the enormous casino itself. If the woman entered out of Jennifer’s sight, she’d be lost in seconds.

Jennifer waited on a break in traffic, then sprinted across as well, seeing the woman going up and over a bridge that spanned a giant man-made lake.

She lost sight of her entering the building and picked up the pace to close the distance. Pushing through a crowd in the lobby, she jogged around a sculpture, her head swiveling left and right. She saw nothing but Asians. She stopped and did a slow circle, focusing on the stores lining the hallway to the casino. A flash of movement caught her eye, going much faster than the crowds window-shopping, and she saw the woman entering the casino, looking back at her. She waited a beat, then followed.

The room was huge and manned, like all casinos, with massive security, both electronic and physical. If the woman was smart, she’d simply stop and wait Jennifer out. Worst case, she would alert security about someone following her.

Keep going. Please keep going.

And the woman did, speed-walking straight down the middle, bypassing the bar in the center of the hall and continuing to a set of escalators at the back. Jennifer kept her in sight, matching her pace but continually looking for any sign that she was spiking interest.

She reached the escalator with the woman two-thirds of the way up. Knowing it was a huge risk, but also realizing she couldn’t allow the woman the head start by waiting until she was out of sight, she stepped on and began climbing. She saw her target’s eyes widen, then watched her take off, hopping the steps two at a time.

So much for compromise.

Jennifer did the same.

She reached the top and entered the Venetian mall, a maze of hallways all lined with high-end stores. She saw the woman sprinting down the corridor to the left, looking back every few seconds.

Here we go.

Jennifer considered pulling off and attempting to circle around, to get the woman complacent again, but couldn’t risk losing her. There was no chance the woman would outrun her. Not unless she’d spent the last six months exorcising demons through the same roadwork Jennifer had done. She pumped her legs, building up speed, flying by and drawing stares.

The woman reached a large open area and swerved right, Jennifer a few seconds behind. When Jennifer turned the corner, she was faced by a food court peppered with tables and people milling about. The woman was at the far side, now drawing attention because of her sprint. She glanced back once and barreled straight into a table, knocking food and beverages into the air as she fell to the ground.

Jennifer increased her speed, intent on ending the chase here and now, while the target was on the ground.

Scrambling to her feet, an expression of terror on her face, the woman stumbled out of the food court and into another passageway.

Jennifer ignored the people openly gaping at her, making no attempt to justify her actions.
Only a few seconds before security shows up. Need to end this now.

She raced to the end of the food court, coming up with the rudiments of a plan: Get the purse. Let the woman go, but get the virus.

She had seen the target put everything she had been passed into her shoulder bag, and maybe, just maybe, she could gain control of that before security closed down on them both. A fight was now out of the question, although if it came down to it, both ending up in jail would be preferable to the woman escaping with her deadly prize.

She turned the corner and slowed, seeing a split in the hallway. One corridor was narrow and deserted, an antiseptic beige with no decorations of any type, ending at two double doors. The other led back into the concourse of shops.

She followed the crowds to the concourse, scanning for the target, a full head taller than the people milling around the stores. She saw nothing. She stopped and glanced back to the other hallway, the press of time eating at her. Every second she gave the target led to an exponential advantage, as the possible avenues widened like the ripples in a pond.

She sprinted back to the deserted corridor and raced to the doors at the end. She flung them open and found herself in a large storage room full of cleaning supplies. The target was on her knees at the far end, next to another set of doors. Seeing Jennifer enter, she whipped her head up and snarled.

Jennifer saw a glass syringe in her hands. She screamed, “Don’t!”

And the woman stopped.

Jennifer held her hands up in a gesture of surrender. “I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.”

The woman pulled off the cap to the needle.

“Don’t do it. Please. Put the shot down. I don’t know what they told you, but you’re holding something that could kill thousands of people.”

The woman hesitated.

Jennifer continued. “Don’t let them use you. That man you met doesn’t care about you. He only cares about harming others. Killing innocent people.”

The woman spoke for the first time, her face a neutral mask. “There are no innocents.” And jammed the needle into her thigh.

Jennifer sprang forward, not even consciously sure what she was doing. The woman forced the plunger home, ripped the syringe out, and hurled it at her.

Jennifer snatched a tray off of a shelf and used it as a shield, hearing the syringe thump against it, then shatter on the floor. She held her breath and backpedaled the way she had entered, watching the woman escape through the other double doors.

Every instinct in her body screamed at her to run, a prehistoric fear of the invisible death the syringe held, now out in the atmosphere. But she couldn’t leave it for others to find. A time bomb for the end of the world.

Taking shallow breaths, she searched the nearest shelf, finding a bottle of chlorine bleach. She took in a lungful of air and advanced, squinting her eyes out of instinct.

She dumped the entire bottle on the shards of the syringe, coating everything in a pool, the undiluted chlorine vapor causing her to squint for real.

Feeling her lungs demand air, she dropped the bottle and fled, not opening her mouth until she was back in the hallway.

She sagged against the wall and gulped fresh oxygen, feeling nauseous, the thought of the virus inside her making her skin crawl. A lethal, mindless organism replicating in her lungs, starting on its path of destruction.

She wondered if she was now walking dead.