“There are still whores in Washington?” said Vladimir.
“The best Washington ones advertise on Russian-based websites now. Can you believe that?”
Vladimir excused himself and found the restroom. As he was washing his hands, Ivan came in.
“You’ll be leaving after the Borscht, I expect,” said Ivan.
Vladimir didn’t reply. He continued drying his hands with a paper towel.
“What do you want me to do?” he asked.
Ivan checked the stalls were empty, then reached inside his jacket and pulled out an inch-long black pellet. It was one of the toughened ones you could swallow and expect to see, still shining, come out the other end in around thirty-six hours.
“Who?” said Vladimir.
“Wait for a message.”
“I suppose you have records showing me as a psychotic loner and a traitor ready for any investigation, if I fail.”
Ivan shrugged. “Of course. These things are ready for all of us, if we fail,” he said. He washed his hands with great care.
“And anyhow, it’s mostly true in your case, isn’t it? Stints in the SVR and the FSB with all the people you’ve rubbed up the wrong way cursing at you behind your back.”
“I speak my mind, Ivan. The Russian way. Our way. And I get the job done. That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?”
Vladimir strode from the restroom, went back to the reception room, and enjoyed the Borscht, slowly. Ivan had been right. It was the best this side of Minsk.
37
Washington DC, June 4th, 2020
Rob woke early. He was on the internet by five. There would be no jog for him this morning. He’d arranged to be picked up at seven and taken to the TOTALVACS building. The breakfast there was great, so Faith had claimed. Tasty bacon, organic eggs, and hot pancakes with the best maple syrup in the world was her description.
She’d promised to be at the apartment building at seven-thirty to collect him.
At seven he sent a message to the number the Chinese had contacted him from. “Manufacturing stopped on my vaccine. Do you want me to help get yours moving?”
It was a risky message. Bishop would probably see it, but he didn’t care. He might be able to extract some information about this Gong Dao from the Chinese. And he was only sewing fake news. And if they told him he was lying, he’d know TOTALVACS had a leak.
If anything, he was helping TOTALVACS. As seven-thirty came and went, he was picked up and driven into the city, in light traffic. He expected a call from Vladimir at any moment. But it didn’t come, even though he kept his phone in his hand the whole way.
It was a calculated gamble. If Jackie was still alive, the Russians would figure out they had to do more to convince him. That was what he needed. He needed to talk to her. Properly.
At eight he was in the restaurant at TOTALVACS. There were only a few other people thinly spread out in the giant room. The hot food counter was closed. All that was available were individually packaged cereals, a selection of juices, and dishwater water from coffee machines. Faith must have been thinking about the breakfasts long before the virus.
No one was wearing a mask either, but people were keeping their distance and using the bottles of hand sanitizer on the walls. One thing was sure, hand hygiene had taken a great big leap forward with the virus.
At 8:05, Faith came in. She did not look happy.
“What are you doing texting the Chinese?” she said.
“I am helping TOTALVACS to find out if they have any Chinese spies,” he replied, firmly.
“Yeah, yeah, right, and what are you going to give them?”
“Good morning to you too,” he said.
“You know they want to revoke your security clearance,” she said.
“I don’t care,” he said. He’d made a promise to himself on the way here, that he wasn’t going to be the lab rat they wanted him to be. He had to focus on one thing now—Jackie—and if was she still alive, how could he free her?
He took a sip of his coffee. “You guys aren’t reliable anyway.”
“What?” she grimaced, anger flashing across her face.
“There’s no hot breakfast. You said there would be.”
She shrugged. “You’re getting into bed with mass murders, Rob. You know they revere one of the biggest mass murders of all time, Mao. He has the blood of fifty million Chinese on his hands.”
“They’re not alone in revering dictators, Faith. Stalin had the same number of dead Russians on his conscience, and a lot of people in Russia would love to put him back in charge.”
“There’s no good excuse for helping the Chinese.”
Rob shook his head. “Revoke my clearance. I don’t care. Your people are super clever. I’ve given them enough information to finish the vaccine, both versions. They’ll probably do it faster than I could too.”
“You want to be a spy now.” She sat opposite him. “I’ve been trying to help you, Rob.” She looked serious. “I told them you were probably trying to find out about Gong Dao, because if your wife had been murdered, she’d be the person to ask about it.”
“So, you can join dots,” said Rob.
“You make it too easy.”
“That’s the plan.”
Faith put her hands together as if she was going to meditate, or about to say something she didn’t want to. “We can provide better information than your Chinese contact.”
“Go on,” he said. The conversation was getting interesting.
“There was a break-in at your house the day after we met, before we went to Beijing.”
“What the hell?” He felt a feeling of violation, as if his most personal possessions had been strewn on the road.
“It was the Russians,” said Faith.
38
Washington DC, June 4th, 2020
Wang closed the door gently. The Head of Security at the Chinese Embassy waited for him behind a small wooden desk in an office crammed with locked filing cabinets and metal boxes. Three thin faded-red Chinese Ministry of Foreign affairs folders lay on his desk, near a set of yellow pencils in a row in front of an old Chinese calligraphy brush set with a long marble holder.
“You have been busy, Mr. Wang Hu,” said the Head of Security.
“I am sure you are aware of the top-secret nature of my mission here,” said Wang. He didn’t sit on the wooden, straight-backed chair nearby. He hadn’t been invited to.
“A senior embassy staff member of high rank, a Ms. Gong Dao, has complained formally, about you, Mr. Wang Hu.”
Wang stared at a spot on the wall above the man’s head.
“I understand you are from the old school of learning on the job, Wang Hu, but you are also expected to conform to all the latest directives, especially those from our great leader concerning the respectful treatment of women.”
“I am aware,” said Wang, stiffly. “And I have not committed any breach of the great leader’s directives. Not even one.” There was no choice in these situations but to deny everything, unless confronted with multiple high-ranking witnesses.
To accept you had broken a directive would lead to instant dismissal and a return to Beijing under a cloud of shame on the next suitable flight, possibly with two guards or maybe more, depending on the infraction.
“Well, I expect she will have to withdraw the accusation, if she provides no evidence and no witnesses, but I must warn you, Wang Hu.” He’d dropped the Mr. “I do not want to hear another accusation from her with your name involved in it.” The Head of Security entwined his fingers and rested his elbows on his desk. He bent his head to one side.
“I understand affairs of the heart, young man, but you must put your head above everything. Not this.” He pointed at his crotch.
“And finally, let me say, in case you have orders which may require you to move like the nine-tailed fox.” He paused. His eyes were as hard as marbles. “Break no laws of the United States, while you are here in their land.” His eyes narrowed. “T
here will be harsh repercussions if I have to mention your name to the ambassador. My order to this effect overrules any orders you have received in Beijing. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Dismissed.”
Wang exited the office and closed the door. He would have loved to slam it, but to get away with just a warning after almost forcing his way into Gong Dao’s room was a piece of good fortune, and he had to take it. One piece of good luck often led to another.
He went to the staff tearoom at the back of the embassy. It was as clear as mountain spring water what he had to do next.
39
Washington DC, June 4th, 2020
Vladimir looked at the video playing on his phone. One thing was for sure, McNeil’s wife, this Jackie lady, was a fine-looking woman. He could see how McNeil would find it difficult to give her up.
The woman on the screen held up an iPad type device with a picture of President Trump speaking outside the church near the White House, which he had walked to a few days before.
This would prove to McNeil that his wife was still alive. He’d failed to turn up that morning at the park for his run, so Vladimir had recommended that a new video be made with McNeil’s wife. The man had to be taught a lesson.
At the end of the video, the woman handed the iPad device to someone. She looked frightened now. Her eyes were wide. She was handed a black hood. As she put it on, she shook.
This should be enough to get McNeil to do what was needed. He headed out of the embassy and climbed into the yellow cab waiting for him at the side exit. The taxi dropped him near McNeil’s condo complex. He’d already received a message from the camera monitoring unit that a car had been tracked from TOTALVACS to this complex in the last half hour.
He would show the video to Rob. And this was not like the other video, which could easily have been a piece of video trickery. But he had to be careful. There could be no repercussions for Moscow. It was one thing knowing that a person believed to be dead was alive. It was something very different to share a video of that person being threatened. Deniability was the glue that kept many field operations alive. Flagrant deniability was only possible if a video disproving your case had not been watched a million times on YouTube.
He used a forged entry card at the unoccupied reception area for the condos and walked straight in and toward Rob’s rooms. He hoped McNeil hadn’t just eaten. The sight of your loved one being threatened had the power to turn people’s stomachs. He’d had vomit on his shoes a few times, and once on his jacket too. He had been glad, a few times, that he only ever wore out of date baggy gray suits.
He knocked on the door of Rob’s room, waved at the spy hole. The door opened a minute later. Rob stood aside to let him in. His face was grim.
Sitting in one of the chairs was the State Department spy he’d brought back with Rob from China.
“It is Faith, yes?” said Vladimir, giving Faith a half salute.
“Yes, you remembered, now why don’t you tell me why you’re harassing this American citizen with your clearly fake video. It’s a grotesque insult to the dead to do this. Have you no shame?”
Rob put a hand up.
“Vladimir, what do you want? Why are you here?” He was angry.
Vladimir threw his hands in the air, as if he was the one who should be angry.
“I hate to break up your private reunion,” he said. “But I have important news for my friend Dr. McNeil regarding his wife.” He pointed at Faith. “And you are the people who spend half your lives doctoring videos of a few dozen protestors in Russia, to show that thousands are protesting against our president. Would you like to see the evidence for that?”
“No, I wouldn’t. Spit it out. Why are you here?” said Rob.
“Ask your friend to leave or be quiet,” said Vladimir, softly, nodding toward Faith.
“No,” said Faith. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Why do you want her to leave?” said Rob.
“Because every word that spouts from her mouth is a lie. She will make me crazy with her lies piled upon lies. I won’t be responsible for my actions if she stays and barks out lies.” His voice grew angrier with each word.
Rob turned to Faith. “Please, let me find out what he has to say.”
Faith pressed her lips together, made a frustrated noise in her throat, and nodded briskly.
“I promise to be quiet,” she said.
“Good,” said Vladimir. “Perhaps you will learn what so many American women need to learn—to respect their men.”
Faith’s mouth opened.
“Cut that crap out,” shouted Rob. “Be respectful. You can leave now if you’re going to continue with that.”
“OK, OK,” said Vladimir.
“What I have for you cannot be easily dismissed, Dr. McNeil. Your friend will tell you we can take any face from a stolen video, perhaps from any smartphone account, and place it on a character who then says or does something that we want said or done, but she is wrong. I have never seen something like this to be faked. It’s impossible.” He pulled his smartphone from his pocket and started tapping at the screen.
Rob looked at Faith. Her face was a picture of skepticism.
Vladimir turned the screen to Rob. Faith came up beside him. The two of them stared at the video of McNeil’s wife. Faith’s face grew pink, and her mouth twisted in disdain.
Rob’s looked interested at first, then sad, as he saw his wife. Then a distasteful expression came over it, as if he’d swallowed something bad.
“How can you show me this?” he bellowed. “How dare you take my wife’s videos and make this.” He swung a fist up into the air. “Get out of here. That’s disgusting that you would bring that here. Go!” He pointed at the door. “Now.”
Vladimir turned the screen back to himself. “You didn’t watch it all.” He shook his head. “None are so blind as those who cannot see.”
“If you bother Dr. McNeil with these videos again, a complaint will be made to your embassy and you will be asked to return home to Russia as quickly as possible,” said Faith, as Vladimir walked out of the room.
40
Washington DC, June 4th, 2020
Wang knocked on the door of the on-site embassy doctor. A female voice called for him to come in. The doctor had a lilting Mandarin accent. She was probably from Canton and spoke Cantonese growing up and her accent carried over to her Mandarin.
“You have special request, yes, Mr. Hu,” said the doctor as a greeting. She was small and had a dimple on her chin.
“Yes, you should have received a message from Beijing,” said Wang.
“I did. I will provide the medicine requested.”
Wang looked around the room. White shelves filled every wall. Each was stacked with medicines in a bewildering array of plastic containers of different sizes. One shelf held glass jars. Another had a row of herbs in envelope-shaped plastic bags.
“You have every medicine here,” said Wang.
“Do you need something else?” said the doctor. “Perhaps a little boost?” She made a fist of her hand and raised it.
“No, no problems there.” He wanted to ask for something to reduce desire, not raise it, but he couldn’t. Every request would undoubtedly be logged into the computer system sitting on her desk and be visible to his superiors the next day.
In any case, the cure for what troubled him would be found in either winning Gong Dao or crushing her for the insults she had inflicted and the torture of unrequited desire she had put him through.
He put his hand out.
“I have been asked to do a check-up on you while you are here, Mr. Wang Hu, so please jump on the examination table.” She pointed at the leather-covered table.
“I don’t need this,” said Wang.
“Just your blood pressure, temperature, and afterward a urine sample,” said the doctor. She handed him a small plastic container.
“Every morning when I come to the embassy, someone takes my
temperature,” he said.
“Good, this is a second check,” said the doctor, holding a thermometer gun to his forehead. “Now please, roll up your left sleeve.”
As he was leaving the doctor’s office, the doctor put her head to one side. “Do be careful with that medicine, Mr. Hu. It will reduce blood pressure very, very fast. Do not use it unless you are experiencing super high readings.”
Wang nodded and left the room. Every morning when he came to the embassy, someone would have an opinion they wanted to share with him. Perhaps working here in America was as dangerous as he’d heard. The contagion of free speech and expressed opinions was hard to put an end to once anyone got into the habit.
It would be better when he got back to Beijing. People still had opinions there, but they knew their place and to keep their thoughts to themselves.
His next stop was the surveillance room. The senior officer was at a desk at the top of the room. Rows of operatives sat in front of him with their laptops on. There were forty-eight surveillance officers in the large, open-plan room. At any one time, they could be tracking the locations and cell phone data for thousands of individuals, both Chinese and those with an interest in China.
The room’s walls were lined with a metal mesh, to create a Faraday cage, inside the larger Faraday cage of the embassy. This helped to ensure that any eavesdropping equipment that had been snuck into the embassy would not be able to pick up electronic signals from this room.
Wang went to the top of the room and saluted the senior officer. He was a lifetime staff member of the Ministry of State Security. He did what was expected of him without question.
The man watched Wang approach and returned his salute.
“Your target data will appear on your Baidu maps app on your phone as your next destination, Mr. Wang,” said the officer. He kept his expression stiff.
The Conspiracy II Page 12