The Elephant Game
Page 18
But it wasn’t her only profession.
Tetsuo’s team had been watching her for a few weeks now. The orders to take her had come twelve hours ago. The CIA was getting desperate for information. No one knew what the hell was going on in China, and they needed leads.
He had been advised to approach her with extreme caution. His team had two vans outside around the corner. There wasn’t any place to park on the street outside. A female CIA operative sat across from him, pretending to keep up conversation.
They heard another loud burst of laughter from the group of service members, and the woman and one of the men began walking out the door, her arm intertwined in his, with her free hand resting on his broad shoulder. She glanced back at the other men, giving them a wink as if to say, Maybe you’ll be my customer next time, boys.
“You stay. Follow me after you pay,” Tetsuo said to his colleague. Then Tetsuo whispered into his wrist microphone, “She’s on the move with the tall white guy on her right side. They’re walking out the front door now.” He put his leather jacket on and walked out of the bar, about ten seconds behind them.
The whore and her mark walked up the road for a few minutes and then veered off into a massage parlor with pictures of attractive women plastered on the outer window. The man dug out his wallet and paid at the front door, then the two disappeared inside. Poor stupid kid. Tetsuo hung back, watching.
He could see one of his vans move into position at the nearest intersection. The driver made eye contact and nodded. The female agent he had been sitting with walked up behind him.
“How do you want to play it?”
“I’ll see if I can pay off the woman working the front desk. If I give you the thumbs-up, get the vans right outside and use the curtains.”
She nodded.
Tetsuo walked into the massage shop and approached the older woman sitting at the front desk. She barely glanced at him, her eyes fixed on her phone as she asked him to choose from a menu of services. Her Japanese was heavily accented—Korean.
“You the owner?”
She looked up at him suspiciously. “No. My husband is the owner.”
He took out his wallet, thumbing through a wad of cash. “You know that woman that just came in? Is she a regular?”
“Yes,” the Korean woman answered, taking a few bills.
“I need to speak with her.”
“She is busy.”
Tetsuo placed his hands on the counter. “I don’t want to cause trouble. But I don’t think that she’ll come with me unless I make her. I need you to go in that room back there and close the door for the next five minutes. Can you do that for me? I promise you that I won’t hurt her, and I won’t get you in any trouble. But I don’t want anyone to see it when my friend and I take her out. Okay?” He slid over a thick wad of cash.
She looked down at it, counting, and looked back up towards him, a curious smile appearing on her face. “Who are you?”
“What room are they in?”
“Room four. Upstairs.”
“Is there a lock?”
“No locks. We’ve had problems with locks. Who are you?”
“Five minutes.” Tetsuo held up his hand, thumb and fingers extended.
The woman shrugged. “Knock on the door if anyone comes. And don’t get me in trouble with the police.”
“I won’t. Is that camera on?” He pointed up at the black orb hanging down from the ceiling.
She nodded.
“Let me see you turn it off. You can turn it back on when you come out.”
She picked up her phone and tapped a few times, then showed him the screen as she selected OFF on the security camera’s application. Then the woman disappeared into the back room.
Tetsuo waited until the door was shut and turned to give a thumbs-up to his agent standing outside. She turned and gave a nod to the van, which in turn made a call to the second van. Both pulled up close to the curb, only feet from the door.
Then the back doors of one of the vans opened and Tetsuo’s team members set up curtains that shielded the short path from the parlor entrance to the vans.
“Room four, upstairs. No locks.”
The three men who moved ahead of him were members of the CIA’s Special Operations Group. Most of these men were former special forces guys. They had made a career of apprehending and killing terrorists. This operation was a little different, and they had been warned. If their information was correct, she was one of an elite group of Chinese intelligence operatives, and she could be quite lethal.
The team crept towards the door marked with a 4. Two held silenced pistols. Tetsuo and the other man gripped Tasers.
It happened in a flash.
The door opened, and the three professionals sprinted into the small room. The woman was in her bra and panties, straddling the American service member, who lay on his stomach, while rubbing oil onto his back. She jerked her head around as the door opened, hopping off the man and trying to respond, but they were too quick. Tetsuo’s men grabbed her, separated her from the American man, who was yelling, and then zapped both of them on the side. Then one of the CIA operatives removed a pair of syringes from a case attached to his waist. Both the American service member and the Chinese spy were injected with a solution that would keep them unconscious for the next few hours.
The men quickly dressed the limp bodies and carried them into the back of the lead van, where they were tied down on stretchers and carefully monitored. The American would be dropped off with his military ID and otherwise empty wallet just outside of the base. Tetsuo wanted it to look like a robbery. The service member wouldn’t remember much, but his buddies would know that he’d left the bar with a prostitute. They would assume that she had been part of the heist.
It would make sense that she would never show up around that area again.
The hooker was one of Jinshan’s operatives, they had learned, but she wasn’t anything like the highly trained Lena Chou. This one was straight honey trap, used to lure in men who might know something about American and Japanese military movements or technology.
After they’d interrogated her for a few hours, promising her the reward of a safe life in America, without the threat of retribution from her Chinese handlers, she finally talked.
And she had a lot to say.
The hooker had a prodigious customer list. It included low-ranking clientele, like the enlisted men in the bar, who had access to flight schedules and deployment status, but also higher-ups, including a colonel in the US Air Force who had bragged about the F-22s that were coming to his base. She had even worked her magic on a Japanese executive who was giving her access to AEGIS radar technology being sold to the Japanese Self-Defense Forces. Some of the classified information these men provided was knowingly exchanged for sex. Others were clueless as to the importance of the details they let slip—at least, according to her.
Under normal circumstances, each one of these clients would be investigated, questioned, and charged. But these were not normal times, and that wasn’t what Tetsuo was interested in today. The woman was working for Jinshan’s agents, and Tetsuo wanted to know any special instructions that Jinshan’s office had given her in the last few weeks that might be related to the shipping containers being managed out of the Tokyo office.
“They told you to meet someone coming from China?”
“Yes, they wanted me to keep him company.”
“Is that normal?”
“Not at all.”
“Why do you suspect they are doing that?”
“They said that his confidence is low. This man is upset about the things he is doing. Stressed out. They thought that I might be able to help with that. And they wanted me to keep an eye on him.”
The woman was sitting on the couch, drinking from a bottle of water. She observed her three interrogators with careful suspicion but seemed indifferent to the work she was involved in. As if it was totally normal.
Tetsuo said, “What were
you supposed to do?”
“If the Indian-American man said anything that made me think he was disloyal, I was to notify my handler immediately. They told me that they were worried about him having second thoughts. They want to keep using him. Apparently, he’s a boy genius or something. But if he’s not able to keep working for them, they want to take care of the problem soon.”
Tetsuo’s face remained impassive at the mention of the man being Indian American.
“Does he have a name?”
“His name is Natesh Chaudry.”
Tetsuo wrote down the name on his notepad.
The woman said, “He doesn’t know me…yet. I’m supposed to make it appear natural.”
“Tell us when and where you’re supposed to meet him.”
16
David’s youngest daughter was staring at him from her baby seat, the tower of plastic that rolled up next to the kitchen table, ensuring that her head was slightly above theirs when she ate. Maybe that was where she had gotten the idea that she ruled over them.
He had stirred together a little baby rice cereal with warm water, placing the tiny spoon into her mouth. She just glared back at him, the sludge dripping back out and down her chin. Not today, Dad. Nice try.
The side door to the carport opened and his wife and oldest daughter came in. “Hello, Dad. How’s the feeding going?”
“Well…”
Lindsay made eye contact with the six-month-old, who smiled wide at the sight of her mother. David used the opportunity to stuff a little more food into her mouth. She made a face, but he was pretty sure at least something got in there. Little wins.
“Have a good class?”
“Yeah, actually. Thanks for letting me go.”
Lindsay had taken Maddie to the gym nursery while she took a class. David had stayed home with Taylor and made breakfast, catching up on a little Saturday-morning SportsCenter on ESPN.
“I made some eggs. They should still be warm. And the bacon is in the pan.”
“Mmm. Thanks. I’m just going to jump in the shower. Can you see if Maddie wants any? She didn’t really eat before we left.”
David’s phone began buzzing on the kitchen counter. Lindsay stopped walking and eyed him as he picked it up.
“This is David.”
“David, it’s Susan. We need you to come in. Sorry for the short notice, but something big is going on and we need you.”
“Sure, what’s up?”
“I’ll see you when you get here. Actually—David, pack a travel bag. You’ll be flying out tonight.”
The phone call ended, and David gave his wife a look that she was beginning to know all too well.
She put up her hand, rolling her eyes. “Don’t apologize. Just let me shower. Five minutes, then you can go.”
“David, your debrief from the island says that you befriended him while you were there.”
“Yeah, but then Natesh betrayed me. He betrayed all of us.”
Susan folded her arms, looking at General Schwartz. “The psychological profile we have on him says he’s susceptible to recruitment. You have a relationship with him. Our source says that he was showing signs of cracking up, and that’s why he’s being sent to Japan. To work with a logistics company that runs Jinshan’s shipping operators.”
David said, “Look, Susan. I’ll do whatever you want, but I don’t see how much I’ll be able to help. I have zero training in this kind of thing.”
“You would be surprised how much a friendly face can do when trying to turn someone. You’ll have someone good there. Tetsuo is one of our best operations officers. He’ll brief you. Just follow his lead.”
David was incredulous. They were going to send him to Japan to meet with Natesh Chaudry. The Silicon Valley consultant who had partnered up with Lena Chou and Cheng Jinshan. The architect of many of Jinshan’s war plans. David understood the value in recruiting him as an agent of the CIA. He would be able to provide insight and information that would be immensely valuable, especially given that Jinshan was now the most powerful man in China. But David knew nothing about how to play these spy games. His expertise came from watching a lot of James Bond movies when he was younger.
“Your flight leaves as soon as you get to the airport, David. A car is waiting outside to take you there right now. Sleep on the plane. You’ll need to move fast once you get to Tokyo.”
When Natesh arrived in Japan, he immediately felt a weight lifted from his shoulders. He felt free. It was the first time he hadn’t had Lena or any Chinese soldiers looking over his shoulder in months. He used the payment cards and IDs that Jinshan’s people had provided to check into his hotel. He wasn’t back in America, but it was better than it had been.
Still, there was the knowledge that every person he passed on the street was at risk. He knew what Jinshan was planning to do with the nation of Japan. At least, he thought he knew. They would be given an ultimatum, just like several other Pacific Rim nations. Stay out of this, or be obliterated. Natesh’s money was on Japan staying neutral. He hoped to God they would. He hated to think of the alternative.
In the morning, he was taken to the logistics company. He met the chief of sales, one of Jinshan’s men. The executive provided Natesh a private office in a modern high-rise building, along with a staff that was sworn to secrecy. The technology was first-rate, and Natesh quickly had his team plugged into the supply chain, planning for the next year. Food, petrol, parts, men, tanks, aircraft, bullets. Everything needed a demand estimate, a demand signal, and a corresponding product that it was tied to.
Each item was tagged with a reference code. A specific type of rifle was 80282071. Within that rifle were dozens of parts, each with their own reference codes. The Chinese reference codes were used. That was not suspicious, since the company already did so much business with China. The products formed little tree graphs, and through each branch, Natesh’s demand signals flowed. The Chinese war machine’s supply chain would be optimized, reacting quickly to any change in the battlefield.
After the first day of working with his Japanese team, he was pleased. They were able to take the information he had been working with, first at the Red Cell Island and then in Manta, and get it transferred over to the servers in Tokyo.
After a few days of this, Natesh might even forget that he was working to supply a war. They were just numbers. And he needed to make sure that demand never outstripped supply. If one ship full of parts and materials didn’t make it to a destination, he would work on alternatives. Everything must be optimized for time and cost. He wouldn’t think about why that ship hadn’t gotten there, or about how many lives had been lost when it had sunk to the bottom of the Pacific.
He ate at the sushi bar in his hotel and smiled for the first time in a long time. The food was good. He was at peace.
A man next to him said, “You American?”
Natesh froze, not sure what to say.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt your dinner. It’s just that I used to work in Seattle. I think I might have heard you speak to my company once. Natesh Chaudry, right?”
Natesh flushed and shook the man’s hand. “Oh. Sorry, yes. That was probably me.”
“Man, small world, huh? I’m over here for a few weeks doing work and… sorry, where are my manners. My name’s Tetsuo.” He stuck out his hand.
Natesh signaled the man behind the bar to get his check. A blur of dark fabric as someone sat down in the seat next to him, on the opposite side of the talkative American.
Natesh turned to see who was sitting so close, when there were plenty of other open seats at the sushi bar.
He saw the face, but it didn’t click in his brain for a half second. Then his mouth dropped open as he realized who was sitting right in front of him.
That was impossible.
“Hello, Natesh,” said David Manning. “My friend here and I would like to buy you a drink. How about we go upstairs where we can talk in private?”
Natesh said, “Yo
u must despise me.”
They were in a room on the third floor of his hotel. Tetsuo had rented it out earlier that day, just before he’d picked up David at the airport. The tech team had come in, checked it for bugs, and then installed their own video and audio equipment. CIA countersurveillance teams were scattered around the block and in the hotel. A large portion of Agency resources in Japan were on this case now. If they could get one of Jinshan’s inner circle to turn and could extract what he knew, that could be a game changer.
Tetsuo said, “The important thing is that you’re here now, and you’re willing to help. Is that an accurate statement?”
“It is.” Natesh looked down at the floor, defeated. “I can’t go back to them. I don’t know why I thought they were right. Their end state is inspiring. But I’ve seen enough death up close now. I’ve seen Lena Chou and Cheng Jinshan for what they truly are. And I don’t want to be a part of that.”
David tried hard to control his emotions. This guy had betrayed his country and nearly gotten David killed. He was complicit in conspiracy, and his contributions to Jinshan’s operation had cost hundreds of lives, many of them Americans. David would like nothing more than to take him to the top floor and throw him off the building. But Susan and Tetsuo had convinced him of his value. If they could successfully recruit him to work for the CIA, then there was important work that Natesh could still do.
“I don’t want to go to jail. I know what I’ve done is wrong, but I also know what the US government will likely do to me once I get back on American soil.”
Tetsuo leaned forward in his chair and lightly slapped Natesh on the knee. Like they were friends, buddies. Like he was trying to cheer him up. He was, David realized. Tetsuo was working on him. Trying to establish a connection. Trust.
“We will take care of you. I’m not going to lie, I read about Lena Chou. She’s very impressive. So is Jinshan. They could have convinced a lot of people. We don’t blame you, Natesh, and you shouldn’t blame yourself. And if you’re worried about repercussions, then talk to us. It will go a long way back in Washington if you’re cooperating. Give us a sign of good faith. Let’s start a discussion—what can you help us with? What did you see over the past few weeks and months that we don’t know about?”