Gambit

by Karna Small Bodman

  He told her about the meeting that day with the Intelligence Committees. He didn’t talk about the details of a classified briefing, but he did mention that he had told them about her laser project. Next he asked for an update. She told him she had made some progress and that her team might be ready to put it on a test plane in the next few days.

  He was excited about that. He said he’d talk to some people about the best place to hold the tests and get back to her. When they ended the call, she had wondered where that relationship was going. The conversation had been mostly business, so maybe the goodnight kiss at his place had been just a spur of the moment thing. She wasn’t sure.

  The trouble was that on the drive home from that dinner, the whole experience brought back a flood of memories of other dinners, other kisses, other intimate scenes. All of them with Hunt Daniels. Every time Hunt had touched her, she’d felt that frisson of electricity. Every time Hunt had looked at her, she’d felt a tether, a connection that was hard to explain but wonderful to feel.

  Now she felt nothing but exhaustion as she lugged the grocery bags inside and kicked the door shut. Weird, she thought. Something’s weird. She glanced around the living room where the painting of the Golden Gate was hanging perfectly straight over the fireplace. Nothing appeared out of place on the coffee table. The two ficus trees, standing sentry in the corners looked the same.

  So what was it? Ever since her encounter with an Islamic militant a few months before, her instincts had been honed, and she always had that watch your backside feeling. She couldn’t shake it.

  She walked around the room, still holding the bags, and finally went into the kitchen. Again, nothing seemed to have been moved and yet … she sniffed the air. That was it. Something in the air. Was it cologne? No. Something even worse than that. It was almost a dirty male smell. Sweat. The hint of a man who needed a shower. Strange.

  She set the bags on the kitchen counter and then moved into her bedroom. The scent wasn’t there. Interesting. She checked a box on the shelf of her closet where she always kept her grandmother’s ruby necklace and earrings. They were still there. If someone was in here, thank goodness he didn’t find these. She quickly changed into a pair of pull-on pants and a tee shirt and went back into the kitchen.

  She started to put her groceries away and then remembered that she had promised Melanie that she’d go up and feed the new kitten since Mel had one of her Tae Kwon Do classes. Cammy reached inside one of the kitchen drawers and was relieved to see her set of sterling silver still lined up inside. If someone has been in here, why wouldn’t he take the sterling? She grabbed the extra key to Mel’s apartment that she kept there next to the forks, took along her own key and went upstairs to see little Domino.

  Once inside, the kitten ran over and rubbed up against her leg with a plaintive meow. Poor little thing must be awfully lonely. I’ll just take him down with me for a while and feed him in my place. She picked up the kitten, closed the door and took the elevator back down to her floor.

  When she was in her kitchen again, she took out a carton of skim milk, poured a little bit of it into a small dish and set it on the floor. The kitten eagerly drank the milk while Cammy tried to decide what to fix for her own dinner. She thought about heating the oven and broiling a small steak she had bought. She was about to turn on the stove when she changed her mind and decided to just fix a salad instead.

  She wasn’t very hungry and she was still worried about who in the world could have been in her apartment. Maybe it was the supervisor trying to fix that leaky bathroom faucet she had complained about. Yes, that’s probably it.

  She went into the bathroom to check. But when she turned on the water and then turned it off again, sure enough, it just kept dripping. She stared at it and thought, whoever tried to fix that thing certainly did a lousy job. Or maybe he hadn’t shown up at all.

  Then she heard it. A strange little howl. What the heck was that? Sounded like it came from the kitchen. She raced in. Here, next to the saucer of milk, the kitten lay on the floor emitting a squeaky moan.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  NORTH OF GUANGZHOU, CHINA

  General Zhang Li marched quickly through the missile factory with Colonel Tsao in tow. “Amazing what a little money put into the right hands can build these days,” the general remarked as they toured the new facility.

  “Yes,” the colonel replied. “Our network in the southeast region has provided us with plenty of yuan for new buildings and new machinery. The drug trade has been good for our military people, adding to our rather low salaries.”

  “True. Even though the Central Committee has authorized an increased defense budget, the money doesn’t always get to our soldiers, our faithful warriors. We have to take steps to protect ourselves. And when we want to build a special factory like this one, we can do it with our separate revenues.”

  “Do you think Beijing will find out about this factory?”

  “Of course not! With all the building going on, much of it involving foreign investors, it is impossible for our leaders to keep track of every project. No, we are quite safe using the drug money and our own ingenuity to produce these new weapons.”

  The general walked over to a worker in white coveralls who was polishing a long piece of tubing. The general picked it up. “These are our latest models. Easy to transport, simple to fit together with our new photo seeking device, difficult if not impossible to detect. Our scientists have come through for us once again.”

  “The only trouble is, after four attacks on their airplanes, I am afraid the Americans may figure out who is responsible,” the colonel said.

  “And how do you think they will find out,” the general demanded.

  “I don’t know, but I have an idea.”

  “What is it?”

  “Perhaps we should take a gambit and sacrifice one of our own planes. That way it would remove all suspicion.”

  “No! Our agents would refuse.”

  “But wasn’t it Chairman Mao himself who always said, ‘Wherever there is struggle, there is sacrifice. And death is a common occurrence’?”

  “Yes, but he also said, ‘We should do our best to avoid unnecessary sacrifices’.”

  The general started walking down the aisle of machinery again and waved his hand, “Don’t spend your time thinking of ways to kill our people. We have to concentrate on killing their people.”

  “Which ones this time, general?”

  “That scientist, for one. What’s the latest from our Washington agent?”

  “I don’t have his report yet. I do know that he tracks her every move, so do not worry. He will dispose of her very soon, I am sure.”

  “And what about that vice president of theirs and that other colonel working with him that I’ve heard about?”

  “The vice president of the United States is always surrounded by his Secret Service detail. Whenever he goes anywhere, he has at least ten agents with him. He is a very difficult target.”

  “And the colonel?”

  “You mean Lieutenant Colonel Daniels, I believe.”

  “Yes, that one,” the general said. “Our North Korean friends are particularly incensed at his meddling in their affairs. Our Russian allies mentioned his name as well. And now we hear that he may be working with that scientist again. He worked with her once before, so inform Washington that he is to be taken care of as well.”

  “Yes, sir. But if I may, as we move ahead with our plans for the military exercises, I have a question.”

  “You ask too many questions,” the general snapped. Then he turned back to his aide and said, “What is it this time?”

  “As we were discussing the wise observations of Chairman Mao a moment ago, I was remembering how he said that a frog in a well thinks the sky is no bigger than the mouth of the well.”

  “And what is your point?” the general interrupted.

  “My point is that we must have a wider vision than just our attack on the island. We must
plan the rest of the takeover, placating the people, and setting up the new government.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” the general replied with irritation. “I have a separate group working on the entire transition, putting a complete shadow government together that can quickly take over their capital.”

  “And you don’t believe the Central Committee will learn of our plans?”

  “When all they think about now is their precious economy?” the general scoffed.

  “But what if our attacks on the Americans don’t work to distract them enough, and they rush to Taiwan’s aid?” the colonel asked.

  “We have been over this a hundred times. You have been in the meetings. Why do you keep bringing up the same subjects?”

  The colonel hung his head and kept walking silently as the general continued. “America has become incapacitated by our attacks. And when our agents inside that country finish their work, the White House and their Congress will be impotent to act.

  “Besides, the general went on, “remember when the Russians took over Crimea in spite of the fact that they, the Brits and the U.S. all signed the Budapest Agreement to respect Ukraine’s sovereignty if they’d give up their nuclear weapons? What did the stupid Americans do when the Russians moved in and not only disrespected—but attacked and acquired the whole Crimea region of Ukraine? Nothing! Oh wait. As I recall the feckless Americans did offer Ukraine meals for their soldiers. How do you think Ukraine could have fought Russian tanks with canteens? No. Once again, the Americans will do nothing.

  “Even though they have a different administration now. I still don’t believe they’d have the guts, or the voters’ support or that matter, to go to war over our trying to reunite our country. In addition, the rest of the world doesn’t give a damn about Taiwan. The only European entity that has recognized the island is the Vatican. And as they say, how many troops does the Pope have?”

  The colonel again remained silent.

  “The answer is none. No! The Americans won’t be able to react, and the rest of the world will turn a blind eye.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  BETHESDA, MARYLAND

  Cammy stared down at the kitten? My God! What happened? Mel’s only had the little thing a few days. Maybe it got sick at the shelter and nobody knew. She looked at the almost empty saucer on the floor, reached down and picked it up. She sniffed it. Garlic. It smelled a little bit like garlic. That means it could have been laced with arsenic! Fear raced up her spine as she dropped the saucer in the sink and quickly washed her hands.

  She picked up the kitten, still making the plaintiff mewing sounds, grabbed her purse and raced down to the garage. With the kitten on her lap, she drove as fast as she could to the Bradley Hills Animal Hospital. She had driven past it many time when she and Mel had gone to dinner in the area. She screeched to a halt, parked in front, ignoring the “No Parking” sign and ran inside.

  “Please help me,” she begged the woman at the counter who looked like she was getting ready to close for the day. “This kitten has been poisoned. Please!”

  The receptionist took Domino saying, “Wait here,” and rushed through a set of swinging doors.

  Cammy kept looking at her watch, calculating when Mel would get out of her class. She paced up and down the waiting area, praying the vet could save the little kitten, the innocent victim of a bad guy’s plan to dispose of her, if that’s what happened.

  She thought again about how her friend and colleague, Wen Ho, had been killed in the Boston explosion, an attack that might have been aimed at her as well.

  What in the world was going on? She finally sat down, tried to check her email and texts on her cell, but couldn’t concentrate. She’d do that later. What she wanted to do now was make sure that the kitten didn’t die.

  As the time wore on, she was becoming more scared just imagining what could happen next. Finally, a young man in a white coat with a plastic name tag that said, “Dr. Petrie” emerged into the waiting area.

  “As you the one who brought in the kitten?” he asked.

  “Yes. Is it going to live? Please tell me it will,” Cammy said.

  The veterinarian nodded his head. “Yes. You got him here just in time. We were able to pump his little stomach and give him a certain drug. We’d like to keep him overnight.”

  Cammy let out a huge breath and reached out to shake the doctor’s hand. “Of course. I can’t thank you enough, uh, Dr. Petrie. We’ll call tomorrow and figure out the best time to pick him up. And thank you. Thank you so much!”

  Back in her car, she called Mel, explained what had happened and heard Mel shout, “Oh my God! You said Domino was poisoned, but what about you? When you get back, leave everything. Don’t touch a thing. Not in the kitchen anyway. Bring some clothes and come up to my place. You’re going to stay with me until we find out what in God’s name is doing on.”

  Back in her condo, Cammy immediately went to her bedroom closet, grabbed her overnight bag and shoved a couple pair of slacks, some sweaters and blouses, underwear, and an extra pair of shoes into the bag and carried it into the bathroom.

  There she took her makeup, toothbrush, electric rollers, hair brush and a bottle of Tylenol and tossed it all into the bag. Her mind was racing. What else? Her computer, of course. She went back to the desk in her bedroom, unplugged the charger, shoved it along with the computer into another small travel bag.

  Heading toward the door, she had one final thought. Whoever was in here didn’t need to take out my computer or any of my other things. They just needed to take me out.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  ROCKVILLE, MARYLAND

  “I just got off the phone with the animal hospital,” Melanie said, pushing into Cammy’s lab the next morning. “Dr. Petrie says Domino is going to be fine. I’m picking him up after work. I can’t thank you enough for getting him there so fast. Otherwise … well, I don’t want to think about it. I’ve really gotten to love that little guy.”

  “Oh, Mel. I felt so awful when he was mewing and moaning. At least he’ll be okay now. It’s just that it looks like it’s happening all over again,” Cammy said in a forlorn voice.

  “Melanie pulled up a chair and put her hand on Cammy’s arm. “You mean you’re a target again, right?”

  “Yes. First there was that jogger that attacked me. But you saved the day.”

  “Just like you saved little Domino.”

  “Then there was the explosion in Cambridge. And now the poison in my fridge.”

  “I know. You should have called the police,” Mel said.

  “I didn’t want to get them involved. I mean here I am, working on a Top Secret project. I can’t afford to have some local investigation going on. I’ve been sitting here trying to figure out my next move. And thanks again for letting me stay at your place for a while.”

  “So what are you going to do? Have you told Bollinger?”

  “Not yet. You know, last time I got in trouble with that crazy militant who was stalking me some time ago, I told Hunt, and he always came to help me out,” she said wistfully.

  “And you don’t think he’d help you now? I’ll bet he would. Why don’t you just call him?”

  “I can’t. It would feel like I was begging. Besides, I might have a better idea. I was thinking I might ask Jay?”

  “The vice president?”

  “He tells me to let him know how I’m doing, what I’m working on, and all of that. In fact, the other night at his place, the last thing he said to me was, ‘Stay safe.’ Pretty ironic, huh?”

  “Actually, that’s a pretty good idea. Maybe he can get some people over to your place to really check it out. Maybe there’s more poison around or something. You can’t go back there until we know.”

  “You’re right. I think I’ll call him in a bit.” She leaned over toward the side of her desk and grabbed a copy of the Washington Post. “And since I came in earlier this morning, I’ll bet you haven’t seen this.” She pointed to a s
tory on the front page where the headline read, “White House puts faith in new technology.”

  “Oh no!” Mel said, grabbing the paper and skimming the first paragraph. Then she read aloud. ‘A high-level source with knowledge of the project disclosed that Dr. Cameron Talbot of Bandaq Technologies is developing a new laser as a defense against the recent attacks on our commercial aircraft. The administration is continuing to fund the original two contracts for missile defense at U.S. airports as well as for airplanes. However, they are banking on a quicker, more economical solution from the young scientist whose project should be ready for testing soon’.”

  Melanie slammed the paper down on the desk and stammered, “But how? Who in the world would leak that? This is dreadful.”

  “And I’m in the bull’s-eye again,” Cammy said softly.

  The door to the lab flew open. Stan Bollinger barged in waving a copy of the newspaper. “There you are,” he said, pointing to Melanie. “You’re late, and you’re in deep shit!”

  “But I didn’t …”

  “I don’t want to hear your excuses, Ms. Duvall. Everybody in this building knows you’ve been carrying on with Senator Winters. Everybody in this building knows that Winters is trying to tear down the administration and run against Jayson Keller in the next election. And everybody in this building wonders how you can put up with that piece of slime?”

  “But I …”

  “No buts,” he declared, staring her down. “You are undoubtedly responsible for disclosing Dr. Talbot’s name to Winters. You are responsible for our company’s reputation being put on the line, and you just may be responsible for leaking classified information,” he thundered.