Unfortunately, neither that nor anything else did much to stem the tide of online rumors about Bernbach. By mid-afternoon, two members of the House Intelligence Committee were calling for investigations of Chinese plans to interfere in American elections. A Republican member jumped in first, linking his demand to web reports about “prominent Democratic fund raiser, David Bernbach, whose father was an adviser to the Chinese government.” That prompted the call from a Democrat colleague on the committee, who blamed Trump for failing to protect the integrity of the American electoral process.
Later that afternoon, Ward sent a text to Bernbach: “CnEyeco says they built image editing SW. Our guys think source code looks U.S. If doubts, try Chen.”
◆◆◆
When Ward got home after eating dinner at the office, she accessed the hard drive for her home security cameras and copied her backyard encounter with Zhang onto an encrypted portable disk drive she kept in her safe. After putting the portable drive back in the safe, she returned to erase all the footage on the security camera hard drive with any images of Zhang. She decided to not to bother with the cloud backup, as it would overwrite in 30 days anyway. Zhang was right, she thought. You never know when you might need insurance.
Chapter 49
At 7:15 that evening, Bernbach took off from Westchester County Airport in White Plains, bound for San Francisco. Other than his two pilots, he was the only passenger on his Gulfstream G450. The flight would take about six hours. With the time change, the plane’s flight control system estimated the arrival time at 10:08 p.m. Pacific.
The afternoon had been a blur. Professor Lee had finally called him back and agreed to meet early the following morning if he could get to San Francisco overnight. They were scheduled to meet at a tea house near UC-Berkeley at 7:45 a.m.
After Lee had phoned Ward to tell her about the meeting, Ward had called back, saying, “I talked with my Stanford classmate, Zhang Xiu Ying. She’s been in touch with her people in China. She wants the three of us to get together tonight at my house after your plane lands. She doesn’t want you meeting with Lee until she’s talked with you. I know it will be late. You can just crash in my guest bedroom if you want and I’ll drive you to Berkeley in the morning so we can talk on the way.” Bernbach had agreed.
Before he’d left for the airport, Bernbach had sent Franks the most salacious of the photos of Dan and Hope at his house party and the edited video of their sexual encounter in the guest cottage, along with specific instructions about when to get them to Eva Johnson by text or email from a no-reply address. The photo would come first, followed a day or so later by the video.
When Bernbach arrived at Westchester County Airport, he took an Ambien pill to get him through the flight. He needed rest, but what he really needed was oblivion, so he could stop thinking about the chaos and danger swirling around him. He knew the trip to the West Coast well. Half the sleeping meds would be out of his system in three hours. The rest would be gone when they landed. He might still be a little groggy, but he’d start the strong hot tea when the plane began its descent into SFO.
As the plane was on its way to cruising altitude, Bernbach called Franks directly to discuss the situation in Austin. He said, “I’m on a short time schedule, so I’m calling you instead of running this through Billings. We need to clean up some things in Austin. I need you to handle this. I don’t care what it costs, so use the people you need. Be sure it gets accomplished over the next 24 to 48 hours. Don’t just send people. I expect you to be on the ground there to confirm the results. I’ll put one of my planes at your disposal. I’ll send you the contact number for scheduling. Tell them you’re Jim Jones. Use aliases for the manifest names.”
Franks listened and simply said, “Yes, sir, Mr. Bernbach. What do we need to do?”
“We need to take out the reporter. We also need to convince Dan Johnson, the man who runs JPAC, to do two things: First, stop his present internet campaign against me and publicly indicate it was fake news. Second, hand over a copy of the source code for the software and algorithms he’s created for Rakesh Jain’s political project to reunite America.”
Franks said, “Sir, those are serious orders. Are you sure you want this done?”
Bernbach said, “Mr. Franks, as sure of anything in my life. If we fail on these, our entire project will hit the wall. Do you understand?”
Franks said, “I understand. Given your time requirements on the software, capturing and holding Mr. Johnson may be the only practical approach, but kidnappings have a record of going badly for the victim. Is that an issue?”
Bernbach said, “Not at all. Get it done.”
Bernbach put on his noise-cancelling earphones and stretched out on the couch, loosely fastening a seat belt around him and pulling a blanket over him. He woke when the co-pilot came out to bring him a chocolate brownie Clif Bar and his hot Irish breakfast tea, bolstered with a second tea bag.
◆◆◆
While Bernbach was in the air, Ward and Zhang ate burgers and fries Ward had grabbed from In-N-Out on her way home. They made sure the house was ready for the meeting. Zhang asked Ward about her security cameras. Ward said she’d turned them off. Zhang asked to check. As Ward took her to the security DVR, Zhang asked, “Am I on this from my last visit to your house?”
Ward smiled and said, “No, I erased that time period. Want to see?” Zhang nodded she did. Ward pulled up the date to show nothing was there from her visit.
“Was that a test?” Ward asked.
“No, silly,” Zhang said. “But it’s always good to be sure.”
“Well, notice it’s off now too.”
Zhang talked about how to handle the conversation with Bernbach. “I need to get a sense of where he is on his project, who’s involved and who knows what. I also need to assess whether he can control the situation with the reporter and the internet traffic. In China, we expect to see strength when problems like these arise. You have different laws over here, but we still expect to see action and results.”
Ward said, “Are you still having a car from the Consulate pick you up after the meeting tonight?”
“Yes. The same driver who brought me here earlier.”
With time to spare before the meeting, Zhang started unbuttoning Ward’s blouse. “We should play in the shower together. It’s always good to relax before an important meeting. Bring some wine. I’ll meet you in there.”
Ward showed up with two glasses of Cabernet, smiling at Zhang, who was already in the shower. “I was hoping we’d have time for some fun,” Ward said.
They did, first in the shower and then in Ward’s king bed looking out on the pool.
Finally, Ward said, “What do you want me to wear?”
“As little as possible.”
“Oh, that won’t tip him off about anything.”
“I’m kidding, although it was an honest answer. Something casual with a little sex appeal to keep him awake. How about a wrap dress with a little cleavage?”
Ward looked through her huge closet and pulled out a Diane Von Furstenberg silk jersey wrap dress with a navy and cream leaf print. “I have this.” She held it up to her bare body. “What do you think?”
“Nice. Tie it loose and wear it commando, just for me.”
She complied. “Did you bring something else to wear?”
“No. Much as I’d love to get in your closet, I’m on duty. I’ll just put my China work outfit back on.”
◆◆◆
Ward’s driver was waiting for Bernbach’s plane as it pulled up to the Signature Flight Support terminal just after 10:15 p.m. Pacific. After Bernbach made a pit stop inside the terminal, the driver took Bernbach’s bags and opened the car door for him. Bernbach carried a takeout cup of hot tea in the car. As they pulled away, the man said, “Welcome to San Francisco, sir. We should be at your destination in 25 minutes.”
When they reached Ward’s house in Menlo Park, the car pulled into the circular drive. Ward appeared as the driv
er opened the car door for Bernbach. The driver placed Bernbach’s bag on the front porch. Seconds later, the car pulled away.
Giving Bernbach a hug, Ward said, “Welcome. You’ve had a long day. I hope you got some sleep on the way out. My friend Xiu Ying is in the house.” Ward pulled his bag into the foyer. “The guest room’s right here off the hall,” she said, pointing. He was still wearing his business suit, without the tie.
After introductions, they sat in the family room. Ward said, “David, would you like something to eat? I have bagels with lox and cream cheese. I can make grilled cheese sandwiches or some eggs if you’d prefer.” He chose the bagels. “What can I get you to drink? We have coffee and tea, as well as wine and plenty of hard stuff.” He went for the hot tea. Zhang and Ward joined him.
As Ward fixed the bagels and Oolong tea, Zhang thanked Bernbach for coming and explained why she had wanted to meet. She said, “As you know, my colleagues in China are concerned about the Sentinel Observer reporter and all the traffic about you on the internet this week. Part of my job is to try to re-assure my colleagues you are handling these situations and they will not create risk or embarrassment for us.”
Ward watched as Zhang moved through her questions and Bernbach responded. As Zhang pressed Bernbach on who he was working with and what they knew, Ward suddenly realized Zhang was probing what Ward was doing and what she knew. Is she trying to find out what I know? Ward wondered.
Ward was relieved Bernbach didn’t tell Zhang about Ward’s demand to be a general partner or about the additional information he had shared with her as part of that arrangement. I wonder if he realizes what she’s doing, she thought.
Zhang’s questions shifted to what the reporter knew and who might be behind the barrage on the internet. Ward thought Bernbach seemed frustrated he didn’t know as much as he should have. At one point, he said, “Your colleagues must realize this internet traffic is fake news.”
“What they see includes some allegations they know are real. But real or not, the information implicates China.”
“But look at how rapidly this arose. It looks like a disinformation campaign run by a political advisor like JPAC. Surely your colleagues face false allegations like this all the time. Clear denials and the passage of time usually suffice.”
Zhang stood and said, “I don’t think you understand. In our presently strained relationship with the United States, these are unusually inflammatory allegations. The situation is made worse by the continuing controversy about the Russians’ involvement in your last presidential election. Our leadership has no tolerance for this embarrassment.”
After 40 minutes, Ward noticed Bernbach was looking beat. She walked to the kitchen and put on the tea water. When it was ready, Zhang made the tea and served it. Neither Bernbach nor Ward noticed the white powder Zhang artfully dissolved into their tea.
After she served the tea, Zhang hammered Bernbach about the reporter and why Bernbach thought the Sentinel Observer was allowing him to pursue the story. She said, “We have had good relations with that paper. Why would they let him work on this story?”
“I don’t know. I’ve told their publisher it makes no sense. They have put the reporter on two weeks leave of absence. I expect they will kill the project when he comes back to work in about a week.”
“Where is he now?”
“He’s in Austin, Texas.”
“Yes. I see.”
Ward was getting sleepy. She left to go to the bathroom. When she got back, Bernbach looked worse rather than better. He was rambling about how much he valued his relationship with China, barely making sense. She looked at Zhang, who still seemed sharp. I wonder if I should suggest we take a break, she thought, just before she fell asleep in her chair.
Chapter 50
The following morning, Ward was awakened by a call on her cellphone. She picked up the phone, which was on the bed beside her. She was momentarily disoriented. She was naked. It was light outside. The time on the phone screen was 8:23 a.m. Thoughts raced through her mind. How can it be that late? What about the meeting? Why am I in bed? Where’s David? The call was from an unknown number. She answered it anyway.
Zhang said, “Are you by yourself?”
She recognized Zhang’s voice. “Yes.”
“Listen to me very carefully. I can only say this once. We met with David last night as planned to discuss business opportunities in China. You fell asleep and don’t remember what happened. You woke up in your bed this morning. David is in your guest bedroom, which is where he was supposed to sleep last night.”
Ward said, “What about the meeting this morning? I was supposed to take him.”
Zhang said, “Don’t talk. Just listen.
“When you open the door to your guest room, you are going to find David is dead. You will call the police. The authorities will find he died of a tragic heart attack sometime after the car from the Consulate picked me up from your house after our meeting. They will also find some Rohypnol pills in the pocket to his pants, along with some Ambien he probably used on the flight out. You know Rohypnol, it’s the date rape drug. The police will assume he slipped it to you to knock you out. The good news is you weren’t raped. As usual with Rohypnol, you won’t be able to remember what he tried to do. The police may find some of your DNA in his bed.”
Ward started shivering uncontrollably. My God. Poor David. What have I gotten into? I went to college with this girl. Who is she? Am I next? She grabbed a robe from her closet and wrapped it around her.
Zhang continued, “I’m on a flight back at 10:55 this morning on my diplomatic passport. If I must, I’ll give a statement to your authorities at some point before I go. You can tell the police I called you this morning to check in before you found David. In case you’re wondering, some of my colleagues wanted you to join David in his permanent nap. They took my advice to protect you for future use. Understand this is a test. For our sake, don’t do or say anything stupid. I’ll be in touch on the software at PaprW8. For now, just keep your people working.”
She added, “I need to go. Do you understand what I said?
Ward said, “Yes.”
Zhang ended the call.
Ward went into the bathroom, looked at her white terrified face in the mirror and threw up.
After brushing her teeth and checking the house to be sure she was alone, she turned the doorknob on the guest bedroom. It was locked.
Wonderful, she thought. She went to the kitchen for a paperclip. Inserting the end into the hole on the back of the knob, she overrode the passage lock and slowly opened the door. Bernbach was naked, lying face down on the bed. A sheet covered him from the waist down. Ward’s legs buckled. She knelt to keep from passing out. Moving to the bed, she touched his body. It was cool. She watched his back for signs he was breathing. There were none. She felt for a pulse, with the same result.
Ward stood and screamed. Crying wildly, she ran to her bedroom and dialed 911 on her cellphone.
The Menlo Park police arrived seconds behind the Fire-Rescue ambulance. Ward was still in her robe, although she had run a brush through her hair. She was still crying off and on.
When the paramedics said Bernbach was dead, Ward collapsed into a chair and sobbed. She gave them his assistant’s name and number in Westport. She didn’t know any family members.
The police questioned Ward, who told them about the meeting with Bernbach and Zhang. She went through what she could remember, then said she had awakened this morning with a call from Zhang and found David in the guest room. When she said she had no memory of when the meeting ended or how she got in bed, the police became suspicious and checked Bernbach’s pants, which had been thrown over the back of a chair. They found his wallet, a small plastic container with some Ambien and another small container with some other white pills.
“Roofies?” the policewoman asked her partner. He nodded affirmatively.
“Ma’am, have you had a sexual relationship with Mr. Bernbach?” the polic
ewoman asked.
“No. We are purely business colleagues.”
“Did you have sex with him last night?”
“No. At least I certainly hope not.”
After a few more questions and a call to their superior, the police decided to bring in a crime scene tech and the Medical Examiner. Ward reluctantly agreed to do a rape kit. Still in shock, she was emotionally shattered. As the morning went on, reality set in and her distress about Bernbach’s death shifted to her own survival.
Chapter 51
While Ward was experiencing her terror, Franks was in Austin, lining up the team he would need to implement Bernbach’s instructions to deal with Andy and Dan. Despite Bernbach’s offer to use one of his planes, Franks had flown out commercial the night before, carrying the bundle of cash he expected to need.
For Andy, he called a former member of Seal Team 6 who lived in San Antonio. For $35,000 up front and the same amount on completion, he would arrange the job and make sure it happened in 48 hours. Franks had used the man on other sensitive jobs that mandated his competency and discretion and justified his high compensation. The Seal would not do the job himself, but his connections would assure success.
Franks was more concerned about Dan. He mentioned the job to the Seal, who turned it down. “Software’s too complicated,” the Seal said. “Plus, hostage situations always end badly for everyone. You need a software guy and a gunman. I don’t need the aggravation or the risk. You may need to separate the job. I might be willing to help with securing the target if you can handle making sure you get the deliverables you want.” Franks agreed to think about it.
Franks met the Seal at Zilker Nature Preserve in Austin. After turning over the package of $100 bills, Franks drove around the city with the Seal in his white GMC Sierra Denali pickup truck. Franks told him about the firefight with the two men in the Charger. The Seal said, “Jesus, you should have called me on that one. You say this Eva woman took them both out? And she’s married to the Dan guy you’re after now on the software? Where did she learn to shoot?” After Franks added some more color, they drove out past the Ball’s house. The trees by the road were still slashed and broken from the Charger’s impact.
Intentional Consequences Page 26