The Conspiracy II

by Laurence OBryan

  “If the target has not moved in the previous two-hour window, the location will turn red. All data will be scrubbed from our records, on your request or the termination of your mission.”

  “All data will be copied to Beijing?” said Wang.

  “Yes, we have that enabled.”

  “Good.”

  The eyes of half the room followed him as he exited. The women in the room, mostly young, would rarely see someone from Beijing down here in the bowels of the embassy. The makeup he used to hide his facial discoloration worked well, but some young people would wonder at the obvious slickness on his skin.

  He remembered how Gong Dao used to prefer him without the makeup when he came to see her. She was attracted to him because of it, she’d said. Had it all been a lie? Had she just used him to get to the next more important man?

  Well, soon she would face her just punishment for her lies and tricks. He would expose her for what she was. Her involvement with McNeil had given him the opportunity to do so, and he would not let it go now.

  He went back to the tearoom and opened his Baidu map app. The next location was still red and she was at the hotel he’d left her in. It looked as if she’d taken the whole day off. Someone high up in the embassy clearly protected her.

  41

  Washington DC, June 5th, 2020

  Vladimir walked into Ivan’s office on the third floor of the Russian Embassy early the following morning. Ivan was on the phone. It was one of those thin Russian office phones that had been popular in Moscow offices twenty years ago.

  Vladimir sat, took out a Russian cigarette from the black cigarette box with the Russian eagle embossed on it lying on the desk. He picked up the black marble lighter and lit the cigarette. There was no ashtray. He tapped his ash in a plastic bin with a black eagle on it. He took it from beside a coffee table and two leather couches in the far corner of the room. The couches were stained. It looked like Ivan held parties here.

  “No smoking in the offices anymore,” said Ivan, coming up behind him. “Come here, I’ve found a way to get one of these windows open.” He walked to a window and pushed at its handle. The window swung open and a cool breeze flowed in.

  “Why do you have cigarettes and a lighter on your desk if we are not allowed to smoke in these offices?” asked Vladimir.

  “The colleague I replaced shot himself here.” Ivan pointed at the roof of his mouth. “When he received his late-stage cancer diagnosis after returning from Moscow. I thought it would honor his memory if I left the room the way he had it for over twenty years.”

  “The things that went on back then,” said Vladimir. “No one would believe it if we told them.”

  Ivan dropped his part-finished cigarette in a large coffee cup, a quarter full of cold coffee. Vladimir did the same with his.

  “They would not believe it if I told them what you are up to now,” said Ivan.

  “It would be a lot easier, a lot less messy, Ivan, if Moscow supported me properly.”

  Ivan went back to his desk, sat down heavily, and said, “There is a lot going on, Vladimir. What you’re doing is just part of a bigger operation. You will get the support you need, when it can be delivered.”

  “I know about the other parts, Ivan,” said Vladimir, coolly. “I know we are tracking infected Russians and guiding them.”

  “Good.” Ivan’s expression gave little away.

  “And I understand the objective of all this is above my paygrade, Ivan. I just want to get my job done and go home.”

  “What else do you need, Vladimir?”

  Ivan’s phone rang before Vladimir could answer. He picked up the handset, shouted, “Call me back in two minutes,” and put the phone back in its cradle.

  “I need a better video. The ones I have been sent are not working. That’s it.”

  Ivan’s face lit up. “What about this,” he said. “Why don’t I ask them to set up a live call from Dr. McNeil to his very alive wife.”

  “That would be a useful next step,” said Vladimir.

  “The boys back in Moscow are cagey about live calls. The Brits have a way to track calls through the internet cable entering Russia through Sweden and Finland, but we can figure something out.”

  “I have her medicine too,” said Vladimir.

  “That should seal it.”

  “Can you get it set up for tomorrow? Early morning here. Afternoon in Europe.”

  Ivan waved his hand through the air. “Miracles like speaking to the dead are easy for me to arrange. Getting it done on time is up to Moscow.”

  “You have good connections, Ivan.”

  “Do you think McNeil will want to meet her too?”

  “I am sure he will; wouldn’t any good husband? I will keep him waiting for that. It’s the big pay-off. He’ll have to follow orders like a good soldier before that,” said Vladimir.

  “Did the boys in Moscow think all of this through when they started the operation?” asked Ivan.

  “I wasn’t in on it at the start,” said Vladimir.

  “I have to admit it’s a clever plan,” said Ivan. Vladimir headed for the door. One thing was clear, Ivan knew a lot more than he was saying.

  42

  Washington DC, June 5th, 2020

  Rob walked into the restaurant at TOTALVACS, poured himself some coffee, and sat down. Faith arrived a minute later and joined him.

  “They’re talking about making face masks mandatory at all meetings,” she said.

  “I agree with it,” said Rob.

  “Maybe, but we’re getting a lot of push back. Some people are saying we’re overreacting. If the president isn’t for it, we shouldn’t be doing it.”

  “Any news on Gong Dao?” He had to keep himself busy while he waited for Vladimir’s next move.

  Faith shook her head. “When I told you she was in Washington, that didn’t mean I’d track her movements for you.”

  “I didn’t ask for that.” He put a hand flat on the table. It was trembling. “This stuff with Vladimir is making me crazy, Faith. I barely slept last night. Look at my hand.” He gripped his two hands together, closed his eyes for a long moment. “I need to know I’ve done everything I can for Jackie.”

  Her expression was unmoving.

  “You’re not a government drone,” he said. “I got you out of China. You might still be there if I hadn’t demanded they release you. You owe me.” His voice rose as he spoke.

  “I don’t owe you,” said Faith, shaking her head. “But if I do tell you where she is, when we find her, it will be a one-off and you must not give away how you found her.”

  Rob smiled for the first time that day. “What happened to you?” he said. “That was easy.”

  Faith stood. “Bishop wants to see us.”

  She led the way to the elevator. They went down to the sub-basement. Level-3.

  Faith led the way to a large room with a panel of computer screens on one wall. Two operators, with headphones on, sat at desks in front of the screens. The screens showed images of the front and sides of this building on K Street and the building at Fort Detrick. It also showed the restaurant and the interior of meeting rooms and labs. Text labels at the bottom of each screen indicated what was being observed.

  One row of screens showed hotel entrances and streets around the TOTALVACS building.

  Bishop was sitting at a table in an open area in front of the screens. He motioned for Rob and Faith to join him. They sat sideways to the screens. The chairs allowed them to rotate.

  “We know you’re being watched, Dr. McNeil. That’s how your friend Vladimir found you. The Ruskies are a clever bunch, but you know that already.” He looked downcast. “I’m real sorry they’ve resorted to such underhand tactics with you.”

  Rob waved his hand, dismissing Bishop’s sympathies. “I understand you can help me find Gong Dao, the woman who visited my wife,” said Rob.

  Bishop shot a glance at Faith.

  “My colleague discussed your request with me.
There is a way we can assist you.”

  “How’s that?” asked Rob.

  “Let me make it clear, first, that you are not obliged to do anything you don’t agree with for TOTALVACS or the United States government. We’re not China. We don’t compel compliance.”

  “What is it you want?”

  “This person you want to contact, this Gong Dao, is on our radar. We’d like you to take her a message.”

  Rob looked skeptical. “A message? Are you crazy?”

  “We want her to come over. It’ll be your best shot at getting her to talk.”

  “You want her to defect?”

  Bishop nodded.

  “What makes you think she’ll listen?”

  “First, she’s the right profile for monitoring. And second”—he smiled—“you’re the right profile for the type of person she’ll believe. You’re not a trained spy. You’re a scientist, someone who has suffered, as she has. You won’t be recruiting her, OK, we have trained agents for that, but you’ll plant the seed, you’ll tell her we want her, and that she can have a new life as a millionaire in any city in the world. I believe Rio is nice this time of year.”

  “What the hell?” said Rob, angrily. “I don’t want to manipulate her for you. Maybe she won’t go for it.”

  Bishop looked like a dog whose bone was in reach.

  “Rob, this is the best way to get her to tell us things,” said Faith. “If you just ask her why she went to visit your wife, she can deny everything. This is our best shot.”

  The room went quiet as Rob thought about what he was being asked to do. “You think this will work?”

  Bishop raised his hand. “Yes, if she comes over to our side, she’s going to spill the beans on everything related to your wife: who ordered her to go there, was it official or some rogue operation, and anything else she can tell us. Our chance of getting reliable information jumps a thousand percent this way.” He smiled.

  The room went quiet again.

  “So, where is Gong Dao?”

  “She’s on her way to New York. As we speak, she’s being driven down I-95. We expect her to reach Manhattan in about two hours.”

  “You know where she’s going?” said Rob.

  Bishop looked at Faith. It was a searching look.

  “We have a hunch. We’re good at that.”

  Rob looked around the room, looked up at the camera pod. “Is TOTALVACS some part of Homeland Security? You guys are good with your surveillance,” he said.

  “Any large corporation needs good security,” said Bishop. “But to answer your question, no, we’re not part of Homeland Security, although we do align ourselves with their mission.”

  “Recruiting Chinese defectors is their mission?”

  “Rob, this is about killing two birds with one stone,” said Faith. “We all get to find out if China’s been seeding the virus, as you’ve been claiming they did with your wife, and if she admits to it, we’ll find out how, and lots more details. It’ll help TOTALVACS and Homeland Security and other federal agencies understand what we’re up against here in the United States and hopefully how we can stop it all.”

  “I don’t want what happened to Jackie to get lost if Gong Dao does come over,” said Rob. “I need to know what they did will go public, if she admits it.”

  Bishop shook his head, as if shaking off water. “I gotta tell you, I don’t have time for debate on that. If you don’t want to cooperate, so be it. We’ll do it ourselves. Expecting us to go public is unrealistic. There’s so much going on these days the story of one infection will be buried in five minutes. If the Chinese think you have found some way to expose them, expect them to start leaking your internet search history for the past ten years, and your wife’s—with added child porn. They’re good at smearing people. Is that what you want people to know about you?”

  Rob sighed, put his hands up. “OK, we do it your way. When do we get going?”

  Faith smiled. “There’s a car waiting. We can use a blue light and cut an hour off the journey.”

  “You’re coming?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You better go,” said Bishop. “There’s a protest feeder march passing across K Street soon.”

  “The BLM crowd don’t want to give up,” said Rob.

  “It’s the out of towners I worry about,” said Bishop. “Thugs bussed in to break windows and throw rocks. We see a lot of people who are not DC people when we look at security camera feeds.”

  “You can identify people on the street?” said Rob.

  “Sure, with facial recognition. We watch for troublemakers.”

  “And then stop them?”

  Bishop shrugged. “If we need to.”

  43

  I-95, June 5th, 2020

  Wang looked out the window of the embassy Mercedes as they sped down I-95. Gently rolling hills with a thick canopy of trees lay in all directions. You could imagine what this land must have been like before the Europeans arrived, the native tribes living close to nature, oblivious to what was coming.

  He’d read a lot about how the United States had grown to its position at the top of the world in the twentieth century. What was obvious from the attempt to make America great again, was that its position had slipped from unassailable, to ripe for overthrow.

  China was on track to be the world’s leading nation within decades. All others would learn then what it meant to kowtow. He looked at his Baidu map app again.

  She was an hour ahead of him.

  He leaned forward to speak to the driver. “Can you go faster?”

  The driver shook his head. “I must keep to the speed limit at all times,” he said. “No matter what my passenger says.” He looked ahead, not engaging with Wang’s eyes boring into him from his rearview mirror.

  An hour later Wang got his first glimpse of Manhattan, gray skyscrapers looming on the horizon as they came over a ridge. He opened the Baidu app, tapped at it. It looked like she’d stopped at the UN building on the East River. If Gong Dao went in there, he’d have to contact the embassy. But wasn’t it closed? Perhaps better to wait nearby and see where she was heading.

  “Head for 45th Street, near the East River,” he told the driver.

  The traffic was light crossing the George Washington Bridge into Manhattan and heading across town. He kept his Baidu app open. When they reached the end of 45th Street, he got out.

  “Head back to Washington,” he told the driver. I’ll take it from here.”

  The map icon showed Gong Dao was now in the building opposite the United Nations. From what he could see from a search online, the building had a Hilton hotel in the top section of the skyscraper. That had to be where Gong Dao had gone. But why, and who was she meeting?

  He walked to the entrance of the skyscraper at One United Nations Plaza. The building was a glass and steel monstrosity rising high into the deep blue afternoon sky. There were few passersby, most of them wearing face masks, as he was. When he went inside the building, he was stopped by security guards near the elevators.

  “No visitors,” said one of the guards, a giant black man.

  “Is the hotel open?” asked Wang.

  “Only for first responders, health care workers, and local staff,” said the other guard, a barrel-chested redhead.

  “I am staying with someone,” said Wang. “They have a room booked.”

  “Room number and name,” said the black guard.

  Wang looked at his phone. “I’m waiting for a message with that. I’ll come back,” he said. He exited the building and walked slowly up the street as he called the hotel.

  “Put me through to Gong Dao’s room,” he said when someone finally answered. There was a brief hesitation, then the voice said. “We have no one staying here by that name.”

  44

  Manhattan, June 5th, 2020

  Rob sat up in the back of the Chevy. It had been a non-stop drive down I-95. He was ready for a break. Most of the way to New York, Faith had been tapping
at her phone, answering emails it looked like.

  He wasn’t in the mood for small talk. It felt as if he’d been sandbagged. He was now an unofficial agent for the State Department and TOTALVACS security. They’d got what they wanted first, him training their vaccine team, and now they were going to use him to try to turn someone.

  One thing was sure, he was going to expose what the Chinese had done, if he did get an admission from this Gong Dao in person. He didn’t care if they locked him up. If the Chinese had deliberately infected his wife, maybe they’d done it to others too. How many had died because of this? It couldn’t be hidden from the world. It had to come out.

  Perhaps there could be something like the Nuremberg trials after the virus faded away. Getting justice for people who’d been deliberately infected was not a difficult concept. In some jurisdictions, you could be jailed for deliberately spreading HIV. Why should state actors get off the hook?

  But first, there had to be credible witnesses, people who would spill the beans on the methods, purpose, and plans of all those involved in it. He had to get information from Gong Dao.

  “Where are we going in Manhattan?” he asked.

  “The United Nations.”

  Rob looked it up on his phone. “It says here it’s closed.”

  “It is,” said Faith.

  “So where are we really going?”

  “You’ll see.”

  They drove through midtown and reached the United Nations Plaza at a little after four that afternoon. The streets had been almost empty, except for the occasional bus, taxi, and garbage disposal truck. Manhattan seemed wounded, its life blood drained, the crowds of people on the streets and the lines of honking cars all gone, and who knew when they’d return.

  “Everything is closed around here,” he said, as the Chevy pulled up by the sidewalk.

  “Trust me,” said Faith, as she opened the door. “Thanks for the drive,” she called to the driver as they got out. He didn’t reply.

  “This way,” she said. She headed into the glass and steel tower in front of them. When they got inside, they were stopped by security guards. Faith pulled out her State Department badge and they waved her and Rob through.