by Tony Bulmer
The world’s wealthiest man was leaving town and he was hosting this glittering evening of indulgence as a salute to his wealthy and influential friends. With rumors running wild that Deng Tao was jetting in celebrity guests from around the world, to mix with his wealthy friends, the event had drawn a large contingent of curious citizens and camera-‐wielding paparazzi, who were jostling at the gates of the pier, engaged in an unseemly melee, so they might find a vantage point to gawk at the party guests.
Security was tight and well organized. As the glittering limousines pulled up to the key, the red carpet guests were marshaled into the white-‐ screened VIP area and furnished with champagne and canapés.
Wearing a classic yet understated evening dress in black silk, Karyn arrived at the event on foot. She mentioned her name to a heavy muscled security guard and he scanned the guest list, before allowing her to and slip unobtrusively behind the velvet rope.
Melding seamlessly with the crowd of party guests, Karyn noticed many familiar faces from the previous night at the Fountainhead Country Club. Deng Tao liked to keep his friends close, a very select and wealthy band of fellow travelers, all of them dedicated to the values of his new world order. Karyn allowed herself a grim smile, the whole scene was so seemingly beyond reproach, and yet underneath the façade, an ugly alternate reality lurked, a dark and voracious leviathan, circling beneath the waters of social nicety.
Karyn accepted a glass of champagne, but did not sip it. Agency protocols dictated a one-‐drink maximum at social gatherings. You had to stay sharp, if you wanted to stay ahead of the
competition. Karyn held the glass like a social foil, making small-‐talk with her fellow guests and smiling at everyone she met, as though she was engaged in the most delightful and carefree of evenings, rather than a trip into the jaws of a mysterious enemy who had proven he had no scruples when it came to murder.
Feeling a raw charge of adrenaline running through her—Karyn knew that was the fear. Long
experience in he field—Afghanistan, Iraq, East Africa and former Soviet Asia had taught her that fear could be harnessed and converted into an insurmountable source of energy to be thrown back at the enemy. Harnessing the fear took guts, training and a whole lot of combat experience. Karyn felt the raw energy building within her, charging her muscles.
The fear was close now—she was surrounded by enemies—behind every laughing face, every social nicety, there lurked the potential for betrayal. If any one of these people discovered she was a deep cover operative for the Central Intelligence Agency, she would be dead in a second.
But no one suspected.
Melding into the social thong, those laughing judgmental faces most likely entertained the idea she was a vacuous socialite, prowling the
night in pursuit of social-‐acclaim; or a wealthy husband. Husband. The word made Karyn think of Reed Goodman, at home in L.A. playing daddy to little Carly. Reed would be reading bedtime stories right now, or sitting back on in front of the television watching those lunatic cartoon shows that Carly loved so much.
It hadn’t always been this way.
Trucking through dusty Helmand province Afghanistan—over a decade ago now. Working a five-‐man team. Reed had always been the guy. They had been thrown together in the face of almost insurmountable adversity, united by duty and the idealistic vision that they could make the world good again. It seemed like falling in love was the
last thing that would be possible under such circumstances. But that’s what happened.
Unfortunate.
A moment of weakness.
Karyn gritted her teeth. She could never
allow such a thing to happen again. Distracted, she felt the overwhelming compulsion to draw out her cell phone and check on Carly, via the secret cameras—make sure that her little girl was safe and warm, make sure that bitch Julia wasn’t treating her mean—there was no evidence to say that she was—not yet at least, but Karyn wasn’t going to leave anything to chance when it came to the welfare of her precious daughter.
The sound of laughter and excited voices brought Karyn back.
Sparkling decorative lights garlanded above the pier swayed in the night breeze. Acrobats and jugglers and street magicians moved amongst the guests, delighting and surprising everyone with their light-‐hearted antics.
Now—half a world away from Afghanistan, it was almost impossible to believe that such a time had ever existed. No one would ever be able to know of those dark unspoken times; almost everyone involved was dead and those who weren’t were sworn to secrecy.
Jack Senegar had named the mission Operation Ascension, a deep cover strike into the tribal heartlands of Pakistan, to punish the insurgent elements behind the Camp Chapman attack. But the treacherous mountains of North West Pakistan were a refuge and breeding ground for dark armies of fanatics whose twisted ideology infected everything it touched. Death, destruction
and opium were the only products of this savage land and it was here that dagger of justice and revenge struck deep. It had been a bloody—some might say misguided mission. In a brutal exchange with the enemy deep inside Pakistani territory, the mission ran out of luck and ammunition, falling short of the intended objective of taking out the chieftain responsible for enabling the Camp Chapman suicide killer. It had taken almost three weeks to get back to the relative safety of the coalition controlled sector in eastern Afghanistan— just her and Reed together, Everyone else dead—all of them.
Operation Ascension was an assault Karyn would never be able to speak of. An act of war carried out deep inside the territorial borders of a country that claimed to be a friend. Reed had got his Purple Heart. Special Operations Command badly needed a hero in uniform, so they provided him with a neat little cover story, told the assembled press at the medal presentation that USMC sniper Goodman had fought off an entire Taliban unit, that he had held his position despite overwhelming odds and saved many lives as a result. It was all high command bullshit of course, the kind of spin all wars come down to in the end. Reed was so embarrassed by the whole thing he shipped out of the service just as soon as he got the chance.
So Reed the hero got his medal, but members of the CIA could never break cover to receive such public awards. For the most secret operations, even such awards as the Distinguished Intelligence Cross were out of bounds for deep cover operatives—that’s the way the dice rolled in
the covert operations community—That was how Reed Goodman became an national hero—and she, Karyn Kane, disappeared into a netherworld of secrecy and cover story subterfuge.
Then came the aftermath.
It was no easy job, playing partner to a national hero. They ran away to Vegas figuring if they got married it would have to stand for something. Unfortunately it didn’t—separation, divorce, exclusion. Jack Senegar was the man responsible. He told her she would be finished if word of her relationship broke into the media. The news n
etworks would haul every aspect of her life under the microscope. That couldn’t be allowed to happen—not ever. When Senegar told her, his voice had the hard-‐edged ring of finality, like he was throwing down a threat. Karyn told Senegar she was pregnant, but the master manipulator didn’t even blink, just nodded and told her he knew people who would, “deal with it.” the words coming cold, like he was organizing yet another covert operation inside the dirty little sub-‐rosa world of deep-‐cover-‐ops.
But this was an innocent human life. A life so precious and unique Karyn knew she would have to protect it, no matter what the cost. So she made a run, disappeared off the grid until the baby was born. Carly. Beautiful Carly. She needed to be protected—
It took the Agency over ten months to find her—a small town, outside Santa Fe, New Mexico. They came heavy, a team entrance with guns drawn. They found her sitting on the bed watching cartoons with the baby. Carly had always liked cartoons, the crazier the better.
They took the baby.
They gave her a black site debrief, Told her she could never speak of these
events—not ever. Told her she needed, “help”, what kind of help they didn’t say, but she guessed it would be the kind she couldn’t use.
Next, they told her the baby was in danger. She believed them. But not for the reasons they so persuasively offered.
And now, here she was, teetering on the edge of paradise, looking at the biggest boat she had seen outside a naval dockyard. Tikki torches flared, fireworks exploded out across the bay. The finely attired guests let out a spontaneous cheer. Karyn stared blankly as the fireworks melted out of the sky. She felt dead inside. She would never be able to lead a normal life, or enjoy the things most everyone else did. The Agency had stripped everything away from her, leaving death as the only focus. It was her life, her vocation, it was the only thing left. Karyn closed her eyes momentarily. She breathed slow and deep, let the gentle sea air roll into her lungs bringing the world slowly, ever so slowly, back into focus. She let her eyes drift open and the very first thing she saw, was a powerful motor launch pulling up to the quayside. Picked out by powerful searchlights, the launch moved close to the quay and began loading up with excited party guests. Here it was, a ferryboat to an evening of excess with the world’s wealthiest lunatic. As she walked down the gangplank with the other guests Karyn noticed that the glittering Tao Corporation logo was emblazoned on the prow of the launch. The logo seemed alive, dancing in time to the soft
rising swell of the ocean and the burn of the flaring Tikki torches.
34
The Pacific “You are arrogant fools if you think you can resist. Who do you think you are dealing with?” Captain Kim had the crew of NOAA ship Nautilus gathered together in the mess hall below decks.
“Perhaps you think that I know nothing of your duties? Perhaps you think that I am somehow unfamiliar with the number of crew you have on board?” Kim was a slight figure, no more than five-‐ three, but he could strut like a much larger man. He turned swiftly on his heel and almost stamped his foot with annoyance. “There are two crew members missing. Their continued resistance will serve no purpose. With every minute we pass farther from the shipping lanes—farther still from the nearest land. If you imagine for one moment that there will be a rescue party rushing to your assistance, you are quite wrong. Wrong, do you hear me?” Unable to resist any longer, Captain Kim stamped his foot. The flat slap of shoe leather on metal did not offer quite the emphasis he had hoped for. Kim stopped turned and perused the cowering figures, kneeling before him.
“You will remember that I promised you no harm when we first came aboard. I am still prepared, despite your stubborn disobedience, to make good with that promise, providing of course you reveal to me exactly where the two remaining members of your party are hiding.”
Captain Pedro Álvares was unable to kneel. He lay awkwardly on the floor with the ugly
gunshot wound in his upper thigh oozing blood. A blood soaked tourniquet above the knee had gone someway to staunching the flow of blood. He looked deathly pale and spoke with difficulty, but his tone was strong and resilient. “What the hell do you want with us?”
“That my dear Captain is none of your concern, all that you need to know is that your ship is now under my command. Just a few short hours from now, if you and your crew do as directed, you will be free, once again, to pursue what ever futile mission you are engaged in. Until then, you will be courteous and obedient. Am I clear?”
Álvares, gave Kim a defiant look. “If you tell me why you are doing this, we can start a dialogue, get this thing over and quick, what do you say? Talk to me, then we can all sail out of here, like none of this ever happened.” Alvarez paused for a long painful moment, as the wound in his leg oozed blood. “All I ask is that you don’t hurt any more of my crew.”
Kim snorted, a thin derisive look twisting across his face. “You Americans, always quick to take the upper hand, without thought to the needs of others. You think you are masters of the world don’t you? Well, I have news for you Captain Álvares, a new dawn is approaching.” Kim drew himself up, his chest thrusting triumphantly as he announced this news.
ENS Mooney, who had been trying his level best to keep his captain as calm and comfortable as he could, with nothing more than quiet words and a blanket around the shoulders, said, “If Captain Álvares doesn’t get a blood transfusion soon, he is
going to die. I need supplies from the sick bay and I need them now.”
Kim nodded, his face showing no sign of sympathy. “I sent men to look for supplies. They didn’t return. Do you think they got lost? No. They were attacked by your friends—attacked and murdered! Do you think under such circumstances you can ask favors of me? Does your arrogance know no bounds?”
“Please, there has been enough killing— more killing will achieve nothing, I beg you Captain, spare my crew—we are not a military vessel— we are a research ship, collecting data on weather systems and geological movements. We are here to protect people from harm. People rely on us, millions of people.”
“Millions of people who care only for themselves. Cockroaches, who care nothing for the torment their smug protected lifestyle inflicts on others.”
“What the hell are you talking about? What has that got to do with us?” blurted Mooney.”
Finally Captain Kim allowed himself a smile. It was an unpleasant nicotine stained smile, filled with the limitless power of idealism. “You, me—all of us—are about to make history. We are about to change the world forever. In a hundred years—a thousand years from now, history books will speak our names. We are about to become immortals. Don’t you feel blessed?”
Mooney said nothing, he just stared wide eyed, drew the blanket tighter around Captain Álvares’ shoulders and finally, when he could bare it no more, took a long hard swallow of pure unadulterated fea
r.
35
Oahu, Hawaii As she stepped aboard the Chánchú, Karyn moved unobtrusively through the crowds of partygoers, as they quaffed champagne, and indulged in ever more raucous conversation, to the beat of a chamber music ensemble, who were pumping their way through a repertoire of Joseph Haydn classics, with an enthusiasm that matched the cacophony of voices. The event was strictly black tie for men and for the women high-‐end designer chic figured heavily, most of it hot off the catwalks of Paris, Milan and New York. Karyn figured there was something otherworldly, almost surreal about the whole event. Did these women really live like this— with their bank-‐vault diamonds and pearls, like they had just walked out of some old-‐school movie, from the Hollywood past; it was as though the Chánchú was about to embark on a luxurious voyage across the world, to some exclusive paradise, where only the most glamorous and affluent echelons of society would be welcome.
Moving through the crowd, Karyn scanned every face she saw. How many of these acolytes to the new world order had knowledge of the true nature of their master, Deng Tao, the billionaire philosopher who seemed to believe he had life changing answers to all the world’s problems. How many of these bright-‐faced socialites truly knew, as they sipped champagne and watched the million-‐ dollar firework show exploding over the ocean, just
how far their great leader was prepared to go to achieve his ends?
Karyn watched, as waiters moved among the guests, with heavy-‐laden trays of canapés. She felt her stomach heave. Every sense she had told her that Tao and his corporate enablers had been instrumental in killing Senator Tex Johnston and his dirty little partner in crime, Governor Geryon. It was a neat little theory that sounded real good to the ear. But would the diminutive billionaire really put his entire global operation in peril, just to make some half-‐witted power grab at the very heart of the American political system? It just didn’t make sense. No matter how high the evidence stacked up, a smart operator like Tao would never be tainted by such sleazy allegations—he was insulated, protected by endless layers of legal-‐eagle bullshit. Karyn gritted her teeth. Tao was so far above the law, he probably had a whole legal department peering down from geostationary orbit, just so he wouldn’t have to break a sweat doing it him self.