by Andrew Watts
David still didn’t fully trust Tom after the kidnapping. But if this were all true, then this time in history could be like the days before Pearl Harbor. Or perhaps like the days before Germany invaded Poland. Much of the world was just going about its everyday routine, unaware of the massive conflict that was about to erupt.
Over 60 million people died in World War Two, or over 3% of the world’s population. If a war of that scale were really on the horizon, David must do his part to prevent or win it.
David was exhausted from the earlier drama. He turned and looked at the other two men, both of whom were now sleeping in their fully reclined seats. Well, they likely wouldn’t be sleeping with him unrestrained if they meant to do him harm. He still wasn’t sure that he wanted to sleep himself. Or that he even could. But he sure was tired.
Brooke came around and sat in the empty seat across from him. She smiled and raised her eyebrows like she wanted to talk.
She said, “How are you doing?”
“Well, I just got kidnapped from my home and now I’m being flown to God-knows-where on some sort of CIA plane to help save the country from World War Three. I’m good. How are you?”
“It’s good to have a sense of humor about it.”
“I suppose.”
“I just found out about twenty-four hours ago. My boss made me meet him off the grounds of Ft. Meade. He introduced me to Tom and gave me the quick and dirty. I can’t believe it either. I work in signals intelligence. To be completely honest, I spy on the Chinese for a living. Used to be on the Iran team. Now I’m on China. I work in cyber operations. We hack into their computers. They hack into ours. It’s like the cold war all over again but over the Internet. But just like the cold war, there are rules. Over the past couple of weeks though, I’ve noticed a few things that were very unusual. Some of the rules were being broken.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, like this CIA guy that they killed. Tom didn’t tell you what he was looking for. It was part of an op that I was working. Have you ever heard of the CCDI?”
“No.”
“It’s the Central Commission for Discipline Inspection. A Chinese organization that is supposed to root out corruption in their government. A few months ago, it got a new boss. A guy by the name of Jinshan. Cheng Jinshan. Heard of him?”
“Uh, no.”
She laughed. “Sorry, of course you haven’t. Sometimes I forget that everyone doesn’t spend all day studying obscure Chinese businessmen and politicians. Well, this guy Jinshan is well-connected. He’s a very successful entrepreneur, but also was rumored to be tapped into the Chinese cyber warfare units with some of his Internet companies. We knew he was working closely with the government agency that heads up their internet censorship program. Turns out, he’s more than tapped into the government’s cyber warfare. He practically runs China’s cyber warfare. This guy has been interwoven into their operations from the beginning. Anyway, Jinshan is put in charge of the CCDI, a position that is almost always given to a politician. But this time the Chinese President himself picks Jinshan, a businessman. So the Chinese President has been using Jinshan and the CCDI to whittle away at the government’s leadership and shape it the way he wants. It’s Tyrant 101; clean house of all who could oppose you. Well, naturally we started hacking into Jinshan’s files and computers more closely. Turns out he really is a much bigger fish than we thought. He had his hands in everything. He rubs elbows with their highest-ranking military brass and has played golf with several members of their politburo. Some people think he might even be responsible for getting the current Chinese president in office. So we started an operation to monitor him more closely. The CIA agent that was killed was our man on the ground. But I had no idea what he had uncovered until yesterday when Tom read me in.”
David said, “So what does Jinshan have to do with a Chinese attack on the U.S.?”
“I don’t know exactly. I just know that our ground asset had started getting close to people in the CCDI. He began to realize that the whole point of that organization, which is supposed to be about stopping corruption, was now to fill key government leadership roles with people who were handpicked by Jinshan. I told you that before Jinshan got tapped for the CCDI leadership role, we didn’t have too much on him. Well, that isn’t true for the people he was picking to fill different political leadership roles. They are stacking the deck with politicians that are or have been closely aligned to the military or intelligence services. It’s like they’re militarizing all government posts over there. The CIA agent was supposed to get into some secure hard drive that would give us more info on their strategy and end game. That is where he must have gotten the info Tom shared earlier. Someone must have been onto him though…”
“Shit. This reminds me of the Soviet Union.”
“Well, they are Communists too, you know.”
“Right. So who else at the NSA knows about what Tom told us? About China having a ton of spies in the US, and about the invasion?”
“My boss was working with Tom and some others in the CIA. But at the NSA, it was just my boss and me. We compartmentalize information like crazy. Thank goodness we do. If there really are sleepers in the NSA, we wouldn’t want this to get out. We wouldn’t want them to know that we know. With any luck, we still might be able to get out ahead of this thing.”
Brooke and David talked for another hour. She was a local Maryland girl, had gone to UMBC, and excelled in mathematics and computer science. She had interned at the NSA while in college and worked there for the past 15 years.
Eventually, David politely hinted that he needed a nap. He got the impression that she would talk the entire flight if he let her. But they ended their conversation and David found himself alone looking out the oval window into the vast evening sky.
David kept thinking about his family. He was worried about the short-term and how his wife would react to his being missing. And he was worried about the long term—about how their lives might change if America really was thrust into a war of this scale.
Could this really be true? He kept asking himself that question. It was all just too hard to believe. What was the saying? The simplest explanation was usually correct. The problem in this situation was that there didn’t appear to be any simple explanations.
The answer to the truth question had a significant implication. He had a choice here. David could go or stay. Tom didn’t say that he had a choice, but David could try to escape when they landed if he really felt this wasn’t safe or legitimate.
He decided he would go. David would get on the next plane. He committed. Cautiously, but firmly. For now, David chose to believe that Tom was being truthful. After all, no one in the CIA ever told a lie. Talking to Brooke helped. After the first five minutes of speaking to her, David instantly liked and trusted her. And she was smart. If he had learned anything from his days at the Naval Academy, it was to follow smart people. It almost never failed. Almost.
David leaned against the hard plastic of the plane window. One thought led to another. If China truly was planning an invasion, then David felt a patriotic obligation to help. If this so-called Red Cell was what help looked like, he would work hard to contribute.
He saw a pen and paper on the table and decided to write his wife a note. He wrote what he thought he could say. Mostly he just wanted to let her know that he was okay. He put in a few details to let her know that it was really him. Then he leaned back into the window and shut his eyes. Sleep was not quick to come. The cold window pressed up against his forehead, and his mind began to drift to thoughts of what a war with China would really be like, and what kind of world his daughters might grow up in.
*****
David awoke to a firm shake of his shoulder. It was the big guy in tactical gear.
“We’re here. Time to go. ”
He looked up, dazed and still sleepy. “Okay. Where is here?”
“Let’s go.” replied Big Guy.
The plane was shut d
own. David hadn’t intended on sleeping but eventually the fatigue got to him. He had slept through the landing. The note. He grabbed it off the table, got up and walked out the open door of the plane.
An empty twilight sky cast grey and purple hues over a silent runway. There were two identical planes parked next to each other. Other than that, the airport seemed deserted. The faint runway lights were the only man-made illumination.
Tom walked around the nose of the plane and handed David a large black duffel bag. “Here. It’s clothes and toiletries. Not your own, but they should fit. You’ll get your phone and wallet back when you return. Sorry about the inconvenience.”
Suddenly David realized that there were voices coming from the other plane. He ducked under the fuselage to see a similar-looking private jet that had people getting on.
“Who are they?” David asked.
“A few of the other consultants. That’s what we’re calling you guys. Consultants. You’ll meet them on the plane.” said Tom. “We’ve got to go. Like I said, I’ll tell your wife you’re okay, and don’t worry about work. It’ll be there when you get back.”
He grinned, but the wrinkles stopped at his eyes. David didn’t have a good feeling about this.
David handed him the note and said, “Here. Please deliver this to my wife.”
Tom looked down at the paper note. He nodded and said, “Of course. Sure thing.”
“Mr. Manning?” called a voice. David looked over and saw a guy in a silly-looking airline uniform, his cap half cocked to the side.
“That’s me.”
“Right this way, sir.”
Tom waved and said, “Good luck. Remember, this may be one of the most important things you ever do. So do your best and don’t screw it up.”
David frowned at that. Hell of a pep talk. He walked over to the other plane, still unsure whether this was the best decision. David took a deep breath and walked up the ladder and into the aircraft.
*****
A few minutes later, Tom and his assistant stood on the flight line, and watched as David’s jet disappeared to the west. Tom closed his eyes and took a long drag from his cigarette. No turning back now.
The man in tactical gear said, “Are you really going to call his wife?”
Tom glanced at him. This guy was such an idiot. Where did his company get its goons? He was barely a step up from the henchmen on the Sopranos.
“No.” Tom replied.
There is no need. They’ll never see each other again.
Tom said, “Come on. Let’s get in the plane. We’ve got work to do.” He flicked the smoldering cigarette onto the tarmac and headed up the stairs of the jet.
CHAPTER 2
“Our historic dominance that most of us in this room have enjoyed is diminishing…China is going to rise, we all know that. [But] how are they behaving? That is really the question…” - Admiral Samuel J. Locklear III, US Navy, Commander of the U.S. Pacific Command, January 2014
The plane ride was long and uncomfortable. David’s face was covered with day-old stubble, and his eyes were slightly bloodshot from the lack of sleep. He also needed a shower. Badly. While the seats on the jet had the same luxury cushions as the first aircraft, there is nothing in the world that can make a nine-hour plane ride comfortable.
As soon as they had gotten in the aircraft, a male “flight attendant,” who David was pretty sure held no formal position with an airline, had given them each 20-page briefs to read. He also provided them food and drinks. Other than that, the man didn’t speak for the duration of the trip.
David rather liked the two other passengers he met on the plane. Each of them was going to participate in the same capacity as David. Brooke and he found that they were the best-informed of the group. All the other two had been told was that they were to be consultants on a national-security project.
Bill Stanley was a defense contractor who lived in Nevada. He had retired from the Air Force more than a decade ago, and had a wife and two grown boys. He worked on drones and “a few jets that you wouldn’t believe existed if I told you.” David learned that Bill commuted to work every day on a US Air Force Boeing 767. He would drive to Las Vegas’ McCarran International Airport, then fly to what was once known as Area 51. They joked about UFO’s and aliens, and then realized that nothing was very funny now that World War Three may be on the horizon. Bill spent most of his time working on the long-range satellite communications to and from high-tech US military aircraft and drones.
Henry Glickstein was a self-proclaimed “maker” and telecommunications guru who had worked for several of the big-tech companies. The entire time they spoke, he never stopped smiling or walking around the plane’s cabin inspecting every element. He had designed data farms and overseen the layout of fiber optic networks for a living, and gave David the impression that he was a workaholic; an engineer who couldn’t stop trying to solve whatever problem lay in front of him. He was a jokester, but a competent and driven one. It was like his mind was moving so fast that he had to throw in a few one-liners every so often so he didn’t get bored.
They were each astonished to hear David’s story of being kidnapped. Their invitations were markedly different. As with Brooke, a single person in their chain of command had contacted the two men just 24 hours earlier. They each had been sold on the importance of the mysterious project. They each had been told not to discuss it with anyone, and to pack for several weeks.
They hadn’t understood why the secrecy was so important, but all of them had complied with the request. David had been surprised that they all went so willingly, without knowing more. Each of the three had trusted the manager who had approached them. And they felt a sense of duty to participate in what was deemed a crucial project. The two men hadn’t known about the connection to a possible Chinese invasion.
David and Brooke told them. They were floored. Most of the plane ride was spent talking about different scenarios for why China would do something like this. The more David thought about it, the more he realized how hard it was going to be for Americans to believe something like this could really happen. Americans were comfortable. Human beings were reactive, not proactive, when they were comfortable. It was hard to get people to prepare for a hurricane if they hadn’t been hit in recent years. And that’s exactly what this was: an approaching storm of monumental proportions. A world war hadn’t happened in David’s lifetime. Would people prepare for the storm? Or would they watch the news reports from their couches in disbelief, waiting for a resolution?
The briefs the flight attendant handed out gave them little new information. They were to be consultants to the US government in a Red Cell. According to the document, Red Cells were used by the CIA to “think outside the box about a full range of relevant analytic issues." Whatever that meant. Each consultant was to provide the team with insights and critical knowledge from their individual area of expertise. When the group finished reading, they had more questions than answers. The second half of the flight once again was used for sleeping.
When they landed, it was late afternoon at their destination. David wondered how many time zones they had passed. The door to the jet opened and revealed bright blue skies and an inrush of thick, tropical air.
The group’s tired eyes were wide as they looked around at their landing spot. There was ocean everywhere. It reminded David of one of those old World War Two island air bases built in the middle of the Pacific. It was tiny, as islands go—or air bases, for that matter. They could only see about half of the island before it curved around into the sea. The runway looked like it barely fit, surrounded by dark black sandy beaches and turquoise waters on three sides. On the other side of the runway was a set of four concrete structures that were separated from tropical rainforest by a tall barbed-wire fence. The dense green vegetation rose higher and higher up along a towering, jungle-covered mountain.
Today was arrival day for several groups of consultants. Another jet taxied back out to the runway. It look
ed identical to the aircraft they had come in on. David watched that jet’s group of passengers carrying their bags up the sandy path to the buildings. The flight attendant directed his group to do the same.
David and his new companions grabbed their things and followed step. When they reached the buildings, they were shown to their quarters by an Air Force Major in his summer blues.
“Name?” He asked as David approached.
“David Manning.”
“Manning. Yup. 214. Up the stairs. Here’s your key. Throw your stuff in your room. Please meet at The Classroom in one hour. It’s the big building up on the hill with the large glass windows that overlook the runway.”
“Got it. Thanks.” David wanted to ask the Major a million questions, but the others were checking in and he decided to wait. It sounded like they were to get an in-brief in another hour.
An hour later, David sat admiring the swaying palms and clear blue sea through the panoramic windows of the large amphitheater-style classroom. He had showered and shaved using items from the duffel bag Tom had provided. It felt good, but he was still exhausted from the trip.
He thought about his wife and daughters. Lindsay was probably in tears. God, he hoped she would forgive him for this. If this were all really happening, he didn’t see how he had a choice. David wondered why he kept thinking like that. As if this might not be real. Was it the magnitude of a war with China? Or was it something else that caused him to feel uncomfortable?
The setting sun created a painting of bright orange and deep purples over the water. However, none of them knew exactly which body of water it was. David thought it had to be the South Pacific based on the time of flight and climate. But if that were true, why take them here, so far away?