"Do you know that the virus is going to hit your big cities in a couple of days?"
"It was only a matter of time, no matter what the government did. The more, the merrier."
Austin stared at the apparition.
"You're willing to wipe out scores of your countrymen to stir up trouble with your government?" he asked.
"You know a great deal and very little," she said. "What if we killed a few hundred, or even a few million, Chinese? We have a billion people. An epidemic would be far more effective for population control than the one-child-per-couple rule."
"You'll never be able to keep that virus contained, even with the vaccine the lab has been working on. It will move too fast. It will be in every country in a week or so."
"Wouldn't you say that the deaths of millions will be the most convincing reason for people to buy our vaccine?" she said. "Think of it as marketing and promotion."
"You're insane to think a scheme like that will work," he said.
"It is our government leadership that is insane. Pyramid has been in our family for generations. Past governments that have tried to destroy our organization have paid the price. We were here long before those so-called leaders were even born. We won't be thrown into history's dustbin."
The figure at the table seemed to glow incandescently as she launched into a diatribe against the Chinese Communist government for having the audacity to take on an organization that goes back hundreds of years.
Zavala had been staring spellbound at the woman.
"Kurt," he whispered, "I can see through her. Look at her right arm, the one she's waving around."
Austin focused on the moving right arm. Through the material of her loose-fitting silk sleeve, he caught faint glimpses of the brick wall behind her.
"You're right," he said. "She's nothing but a projection, like Max," referring to the name Hiram Yeager gave to the holographic personification generated by his interactive computer.
The Dragon Lady noticed Austin's grin and stopped her tirade.
"You are a strange man, Mr. Austin. Don't you fear the prospect of death?"
"Not from someone who's no more real than a comic strip."
"Enough!" she snarled. "I will show you how real I am. My brother Chang awaits your arrival. He will make sure your death is long and painful."
She issued an order in Chinese, and the guards moved in. "Wait a minute," Austin called out. "What if I can produce Dr. Kane?"
She barked a second order, and the guards froze in their tracks.
"You said that Kane was in protective custody," she said, "and couldn't be reached."
"I was lying… I do that a lot."
"That's true," Zavala threw in. "Kurt is one of the biggest liars I know."
Austin gave Zavala a sidelong glance that told him he was laying it on a bit too thick.
"Let me make a phone call," Austin said, looking back at the Dragon Lady, "and I'll set him up."
Austin was trying to buy time, hoping to talk his captors into freeing him from his chair. His immediate plan was to grab a gun. It was a throw of the dice, but was all that he had.
"A futile effort, Mr. Austin," she said. "I no longer care whether Kane lives or dies. His project is near completion and his services are not needed… Good-bye."
Austin expected the Ghost Devils to move in again, but they had hoisted their weapons high on their chests and were staring toward the rear of the warehouse.
The hologram shimmered.
"What is that?" she asked.
In answer, an amplified voice came from outside.
"This is the FBI. Throw your weapons aside and come out with your hands up."
It was a woman's voice, speaking through a bullhorn.
Gordon Phelps had been off to the side, watching the exchange between Austin and the hologram. He stepped out of the shadows and into the spotlight. He yelled a command in Chinese to the Ghost Devils, then in English said to Austin and Zavala, "Don't go away, boys."
Then he and the guards ran back toward the loading-dock door.
Austin and Zavala exchanged a glance.
"No time like the present," Austin said.
He jerked his wrist against the cuff, rose from his chair, and dragged it behind him, moving toward the Dragon Lady. After a few steps, he raised the chair to his chest, with the legs sticking out straight in front.
Zavala followed suit and got his chair into a similar position.
Together, they charged the table.
An actual person would have ducked or run for her life. But the system of camera, projectors, microphones, and computers that were the lifeblood of the holographic projection were not endowed with human instinct.
The figure seemed frozen in place. Only the facial features changed, and Austin and Zavala almost hesitated when the Dragon Lady morphed into a fierce-eyed man wearing a scarlet silk hat, then a series of fearsome male and female faces. Then the last face fuzzed at the edges and broke up into a cloud of swirling and sparkling motes.
There was only empty space by the time Austin and Zavala crashed into the table, overturning it. They climbed to their feet and saw Phelps standing under the spotlight where they had been sitting a moment before. He had the Bowen pointed in their direction.
"The boss isn't going to like that," he said in his lazy way.
"No, I suppose she won't," Austin said. "And that's too damned bad."
The corner of Phelps's mouth turned up slightly.
"What were you saying about the lab vaccine and the virus?" he asked.
"The American and Chinese governments have been secretly working to develop the vaccine to head off a deadly virus, but your boss's outfit stole the lab."
"I know all about the lab," Phelps said. "I'm the one who hijacked the damned thing."
"If that's true," Austin said, "then you know where the lab is. Work with us to take it back from these clowns."
"You weren't kidding about the bug spreading to the States, were you?"
Austin looked him straight in the eye.
"What do you think, Phelps? What do you really think?"
"It's not what I think but what I know," he said. "I've got family in the States," he added after a pause.
"There's nothing to prevent them from getting sick," Austin said. "You can't let that happen."
"I'm not going to let it. But I've got to do it my own way, and I work alone."
He turned his head at the sound of more shots and shouting in the distance.
He reached in his shirt pocket and pulled out the keys to the handcuffs, which he set on the floor. Then he unclipped the holster from his belt, slipped the Bowen back in it, and, bending low to the floor, sent it skittering across the floor and out of sight. A second later, he disappeared into the shadows.
When the warehouse lights snapped on a moment later, he was gone. Cate Lyons had one hand on the light switch, the other on a pistol. When she saw Austin and Zavala, she came running over to them.
"Are you guys okay? God, Joe, you look like hell. Sorry I'm late. I was waiting for backup. They're searching the building, but I think everybody got away. Will one of you tell me what's going on?"
Austin picked the key off the floor, unlocked his handcuffs, and did the same for Zavala. He stood up and retrieved his Bowen.
"We'll tell you what we know on the way back to Washington," he said. Austin clipped the holster to his belt. "Then we want to talk to a certain Agent Yoo."
CHAPTER 29
After leading Zavala to Falls Church, Charlie Yoo had headed back to FBI headquarters. He chatted with an agent from the Asian Crime Unit, looking for tidbits of information to pass along to his employers. As a member of one of the world's largest crime organizations, Yoo got a perverse thrill wandering the halls of the world's largest law-enforcement agency. He was still at the Hoover Building when Caitlin Lyons called and asked if they could get together for a drink at a Georgetown bar. Yoo jumped at the invitation. Caitlin was a good source
of FBI gossip, and she was attractive as well.
He took the elevator down to the garage and was walking to his car when Lyons stepped out from behind a concrete pillar.
"Hello, Charlie," she said.
Yoo gave her his widest grin.
"Did I misunderstand?" he asked. "I thought we were meeting at the bar."
"I decided to save you the trip. You must be tired after setting up my friends Joe and Kurt for a hit."
Yoo maintained his grin with some effort, and his hand reached inside his jacket.
"Hi, Charlie. How's by Yoo?"
Zavala had stepped out behind him.
"Joe!" Yoo said. "Am I glad to see you. What a great surprise…"
"That I'm still alive?"
"Huh? Don't know what you're talking about, Joe. Guess we got separated at the warehouse."
Yoo's hand was moving under his jacket in a way that would have seemed casual to the untrained eye.
"Make a bet with you, Charlie," Zavala said. "Five bucks says Lyons drills a hole through the back of your skull before you get that gun out of its holster."
"I'm feeling lucky," she said. "Make it ten."
She held her pistol with both hands, arms extended.
"Take your jacket off slowly and drop it on the floor," Zavala said.
Yoo did as he was told. Zavala stepped forward to relieve him of both his guns, not only the one in the shoulder holster but the one in the belt holster as well. Frisking him, Zavala found a short, double-edged knife in its ankle sheath.
"Let's go for a ride, Charlie," he said.
Zavala held his arm in the air as if hailing a taxi. Headlights snapped on. A car roared out of nowhere with a squeal of tires and screeched to a stop just inches from Yoo. Zavala produced a roll of duct tape, bound Yoo's wrists behind him, put a strip over his eyes, and slapped another over his mouth. Then he shoved Yoo into the backseat and sat next to him, with Lyons on the other side.
They drove in silence for a half hour before stopping. They hustled Yoo out of the back and down a short flight of stairs. He was plunked in a chair, and the tape was removed from his eyes and mouth. He glanced around at the sparsely furnished room.
"Where are we?"
"FBI safe house," Lyons said.
She was sitting on the opposite end of a rectangular table. Zavala sat on one side, staring at Yoo with no humor in his banged-up face. Across from Zavala was a pale-haired man whose eyes were boring into Yoo like blue lasers.
"My name is Kurt Austin," the man said. "Who do you work for?"
"The Chinese state security agency," Yoo said.
Austin sighed and glanced at Lyons.
"Charlie," Lyons said, "do you remember the time we went to the shooting range and I showed you how well I shoot?" She lifted her pistol off her lap and pointed it at Yoo. "Answer Kurt's question or I'll drill you a third eye."
Yoo swallowed hard.
"I also work for the Pyramid Triad," he said.
Austin motioned for her to lower her gun.
"What's your job?" he said.
"I never left the gangs," Yoo said. "I'm a high-level foot soldier. I don't make decisions. I only follow orders."
"Who ordered you to get Joe to the fortune cookie warehouse?"
"After Joe stopped by my office, I reported his visit. I usually just talk to the next in the line of command. That's as high as I go. That way, if I ever got busted, I'd be limited in what I could tell. This time, I talked to the top dog."
Austin thought back to the raid on the Beebe.
"You've been with the Triad a long time," he said. "What do you know about a guy in your organization with a shaved head and a bad temper?"
Yoo blinked in surprise.
"Sounds like Chang," he said, "the one I talked to. He's in charge of the gang network worldwide, guys like the Ghost Devils. Do you know him?"
Austin ignored the question.
"Who are the other leaders?" he asked instead.
"C'mon, Charlie," Caitlin Lyons said with impatience when Yoo hesitated, "we know about Wen Lo being the front man for Pyramid."
"Maybe," Yoo said. "Yeah, I guess so."
"Tell me about Phelps," Austin said. "He was in charge of the gang at the warehouse."
"The Ghost Devils are the local D.C. gang. They meet at the fortune cookie place. That's where major orders come through from the boss. You never know whether it's going to be a man or a woman. But, hey, that hologram is pretty cool, isn't it?"
Yoo looked around at the unrelenting stares and his grin faded.
"Okay," he said, squirming in his chair. "Phelps is a mercenary, a hired gun. I don't know much about him, he comes and goes. He does big important jobs for the Triad."
"Is it unusual to have a foreigner at such a high level?" Austin asked.
"The upper leadership doesn't fully trust anyone Chinese. They don't even trust one another, which is why they use the holograms. That way, they can just pop in anywhere around the world and give orders without even being there."
"Why did your bosses want to kidnap Joe and me?"
"They don't like you. I told Phelps we were playing with fire, snatching someone from a big government agency like NUMA. He said that didn't matter, it was orders from the top. They hoped you'd both show at the same time, but Joe worked as bait."
"How could you be certain I'd be able to find Joe?"
"Phelps was going to call, saying he was an FBI agent, to give you Joe's location. Guess you didn't get the message."
"Guess I didn't."
Austin then lobbed a question from left field.
"What do you know about Bonefish Key?"
Yoo gave him a blank look that couldn't be faked.
Austin believed Yoo knew more than he let on and was higher up in the Triad than he admitted, but he ended his questions.
"I'm done for now."
"Can I go home?" Yoo said.
"After we talk some more," Lyons said, "we'll bring you back to D.C. But it doesn't end there."
"I can deal," Yoo said. "Let's talk."
"Good," she said. "You are going to spy on the Triad for us. If we think you're jerking our chain, we'll let it be known through our people in Hong Kong that you are a turncoat."
"That wouldn't be healthy," Yoo said. "I'll do it."
They questioned him further until deciding there was little more to gain. They taped him up again and drove back to the Hoover Building. There, they removed the tape and dropped him off on the sidewalk. Then they drove back to NUMA.
"My head is spinning," Caitlin Lyons said. "What just happened?"
"The Pyramid Triad has developed an influenza virus that they want to use to bring down the Chinese government," Austin said. "They hijacked the lab working on a vaccine for the virus, and, once the Triad topples the government, Pyramid will market the antiviral around the world and make billions."
"Hundreds of thousands of people could die before that happens," she said.
"Do you think anyone at Pyramid gives a damn?" he asked.
"Not from what I've seen. Where do we start?"
"Get the Asian Crime Unit to crack down on the Ghost Devils. While you handle this end, Joe and I will try to find the lab."
"What should I do about Charlie Yoo?"
"Use him, then lose him."
"I like that," she said with an evil smile on her face.
Lyons dropped them off at the NUMA tower. Austin and Zavala headed their separate ways home to pick up their bags and said they would hook up again at the airport.
Austin checked his cell phone while driving home. He had left it in the car when he went to investigate the cookie factory. He listened to the voice mail from Phelps, saying he was an FBI agent. Yoo had told the truth about one thing.
Austin clicked the phone off and nailed the accelerator.
Time, as always, had become the enemy.
CHAPTER 30
At three o'clock in the morning, the navy blue SUV pulled up to a hangar at
Reagan National Airport and parked next to a sleek Cessna Citation X jet that had NUMA emblazoned in black on its turquoise fuselage. Austin and Casey emerged from the SUV's backseat, and the lieutenant handed over an eleven-by-sixteen-inch plastic pouch.
"This packet contains the nuts-and-bolts details of the mission we talked about on the drive to the airport," Casey said. "Good luck, Kurt. And keep your eyes peeled for sharks."
"Thank you, Lieutenant," Austin said as they shook hands. "But I'll take a dorsal-finned man-eater any day over the schools of sharp-toothed politicians and government bureaucrats that swarm the Potomac waters."
Casey gave him a knowing smile.
"I'll remember to keep my shark repellant handy, Kurt."
"I was thinking another type of repellant might be more appropriate for Washington, but good luck to you in any case."
Austin retrieved his duffel from the SUV and handed it to a baggage handler who loaded it into the jet's cargo hold. Tucking the pouch under his arm, he stepped up to the open door and paused there. Headlights were bearing down on the Citation and salsa music blared from a car sound system as Zavala's red Corvette raced across the tarmac with its top down.
The car slammed to a stop next to the hangar, and Zavala waved. Austin shook his head. As if to balance out his soft-spoken manner, Zavala never simply arrived at a destination, he made a grand entrance. Austin waved back, then stepped into the jet's plush cabin and dropped the pouch on a coffee table. While Austin went to talk to the pilot and copilot, Zavala raised his convertible's top, grabbed his duffel, tossed it to the handler, and bolted aboard. As he stepped into the cabin, Austin was coming back from the cockpit.
"We're right on schedule," he informed Zavala.
The cabin seating was an arrangement of beige leather chairs and a sofa that all could be made into beds. Zavala stretched out in one of the comfortably padded chairs, yawned, and said, "Any idea where we're going?"
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