Targeting the Telomeres, A Thriller

by R. N. Shapiro

  "Yes sir.”

  Solarez wanders back to his office and tries to focus on various files on his desk, but can’t. He’s thinking about how to get ahead of Amanda and Ryan, especially because he refused to put Amanda into protective custody before her disappearance. Shannon buzzes him and says she has information relating to Ryan's whereabouts over the last several days. He asks her to come see him immediately. With only two years in counterintelligence, Shannon’s sleuthing skills never cease to amaze him.

  "So, we figured out he took a short trip to South Beach, Miami. Besides being at the hotel we didn't have anything at first. He only stayed about twenty-four hours, so I asked the hotel for all their surveillance footage, which included a camera with a good view of the pool area. I pulled in two other analysts to review the footage, and we found Ryan at the pool the day he arrived. He spends some quality time with a female he was obviously acquainted with before the trip. Our facial recognition team identified her as Liza Zhang. Get this: she's former CIA, retired from the agency after a short career, no black marks against her. Her exit interview indicates she just burned out on intelligence work. Now she’s working for Michael Morse, and—"

  "The clothing line?”

  "I know, pretty weird, right? She's Chinese-American and speaks fluent Chinese, so she acts as a QC rep for Morse and travels to China often."

  "And you’re thinking Ryan knows her from their CIA days and they’re up to something in China?"

  "Yeah, but I’m not ruling out that she’s been recruited by the Chinese either. Here’s where it gets even more interesting. She flew back to New York City the day after their rendezvous, and within a number of hours left again for China, using her own passport. She stayed in Beijing for a day and a half, then went to Guangzhou."

  "Where the hell is Guangzhou, and why was she there?"

  "Guangzhou is in southern China, not too far from Hong Kong. Michael Morse has factories in nearby Guangdong Province, about an hour from the airport. But Morse doesn't have a factory or office in Beijing, so what did she do there? Or who did she meet? Maybe she’s working for the Chinese? We're going to need the embassy’s help on that part.”

  "Excellent work. Where is she now?"

  “We assume she's still in Guangdong Province, perhaps at the factory or staying in a hotel nearby."

  Solarez leans over, stabs a button on his phone, and talks into the speaker.

  "Paula, connect me to Brittney Hayes.” He releases the button. “Shannon, good stuff. Find out where Zhang is and tell me the moment you do.”

  David takes a seat in Solarez' office and sets his manila folder full of papers on his lap.

  "It looks like Amanda was extensively investigating the Chinese government, their president, and the announcements relating to the North Korean ruler’s first visit to Beijing. I compiled a list of the websites she looked at and it takes up about two pages, single-spaced.” He places the papers on the desk facing Solarez.

  "Then you would agree it appears she's headed to China?"

  "I can’t say for sure, but she was researching the area and the President’s visit."

  "She never intimated to you she was considering something like this, did she?” Solarez doesn’t quite believe David has told him everything.

  "No sir. I’m baffled about this, she never said a word to me.”

  "I have intel suggesting Ryan and Amanda both left the U.S. for China, and I think he’s helping her plan something. I'm not sure whether she approached him or vice versa, but we’re pretty sure they’re together."

  Solarez runs his hand along the edges of the paper David gave him, pondering what to divulge to David, and decides to hold back that Justin Michaels was swapped with another baby immediately after birth.

  “Is there anything else I can research for you?”

  “Not right now. Thanks for this material.”

  Chapter 83

  Hard Way

  Ryan peers through the small porthole mounted in the metal hatch door, providing a partial view of the pier. The walkway along the warehouse area appears mostly dark; a couple low-watt bulbs on the corners of the building make dim puddles of light.

  “Let’s go!”

  They make their way toward the passenger gangplank on the starboard side of the bow at the same time a figure comes around the side of the warehouse and shines a flashlight in their direction. They back away just as the ray of light approaches and trot back towards the wall of the hallway where they had been hiding.

  “Looks like we’re doing it the hard way,” Ryan says, never turning around. He pushes open a door to the left, then kneeling on one knee, hurriedly fishes two sets of swim goggles out of the duffel. He tosses one pair to Amanda and straps some kind of tool belt around his waist.

  “Ditch the duffels in here.” He points toward a dark corner in the utility room and grabs a length of dock rope looped like a figure eight. “We’ll wear our shoes for now, but if you feel they’re weighing you down, just kick ‘em off.”

  Ryan takes off again running and Amanda follows. Ryan has become her fearless leader, almost like her spirit guide. They both hear the distant whooping sound of an alarm, which gets significantly louder when they emerge on a small rear deck. The alarm is coming from somewhere off the boat.

  “We’ve got to get off this boat, someone is bound to be searching it.” Ryan loops one portion of the rope around a metal cleat mounted on the waist-level wall of the ferry. He pops his goggles on and she follows suit.

  “You climb down first, when I hear you hit the water I'll start climbing down,” he instructs.

  “Are you sure you don't want to be first?”

  “I want to make sure you're in safe before I drop down. I can swim ahead of you and lead the way once we’re in the water. Liza said there are some ladders along the pier we can use to climb up. Lower yourself down slowly.”

  Amanda climbs up on the short wall and starts to descend into the blackness off the rear of the ferry. Using her sneakers to glide down the stern, she reaches the waterline and feels the cold water soak into her shoes as she sinks down into the water. She glances toward the pier, getting a fix on the direction, then she notices a moving flashlight beam cutting through the darkness and paddles back into the shadow of the ferry. Once she sees Ty’s silhouette sliding into the water and swimming just below the surface, she lowers her head and mirrors him, seeing nothing except his amorphous figure ahead, even with her goggles in place.

  As they approach the pier, Ryan slows down and signals with his hand for her to do the same. He holds a finger in front of his mouth, indicating not to speak, and points toward the pier. The guard stands no more than twenty feet away on the sidewalk, his flashlight shining downward. Ryan disappears, and Amanda maintains her position, treading water, assuming he has a plan. The ray of light starts scanning the water in her direction so she pushes her arms up and silently lowers herself underwater. From below the surface she watches the light shake spastically, then hears a loud splash.

  He's coming for me, she thinks, and begins swimming away frantically. The thrashing sounds, which come closer for several seconds as she strokes toward the ferry, suddenly stop. She turns and looks back, but sees nothing.

  Now what? Ryan didn't tell me what to do if someone came after me in the water. Since there is no sign of the guard in the water, she decides to try to find her way back to the pier and hopefully get out of the cold water.

  She begins swimming under the surface, coming up for air for a split second, and wondering if another guard will be waiting for her on land. A few feet away from the pier, she starts looking for one of the ladders Ryan mentioned when something on her left touches her torso. She jerks away, like a fish instinctively leaping to avoid a shark attack, and prepares to slam her fist down on the top of the guard’s skull.

  "It's me," Ryan hisses, just before impact.

  Amanda lowers her arm and lets out a shaky breath.

  "I had to take out the guard. C�
�mon, there's a ladder over this way.”

  He doesn't even sound winded, Amanda thinks to herself, her heart thumping inside her chest. They climb a metal ladder to a flat, concrete walkway. They run through the darkness into an alley behind a warehouse where Ryan climbs into a large dumpster and searches through it. He drops back down, holding a couple small, dirty towels. Amanda wrinkles her nose as he offers her one.

  “Sorry, but this ain’t the Ritz. Dry yourself off with this,” he orders, pressing the other towel against his clothes. “Here is a dry top, I brought one for each of us in a dry pack.”

  “Where was that?” She asks.

  “Tethered to my pants just above my butt.”

  Amanda takes the dirty towel with two fingers and begins dabbing at her wet clothes while Ryan combs his hair.

  “Where’d you get that?”

  “Same place, the dry pack. When you spend as much time in H2O as I have, you learn how to carry the bare necessities. Here, it’s yours now.”

  Pulling the basic black men’s comb through her tangled hair, the only positive thing Amanda can conjure about her appearance is that no one knows her in China. She modestly turns her back to Ryan and slips on the long sleeve shirt, grateful one article of clothing will be dry.

  “Next stop, the locker in the ferry station,” Ty says. “Now that we’ve gotten past customs and immigration, we can carry baggage like everyone else. I'll get the luggage, and you’ll follow me to the train station a couple blocks away. I'll wheel both of the suitcases to the restrooms and put one in front of the women's, which you’ll take in with you a few seconds later. Your Canadian passport will be in a purse stowed in your backpack, along with all kinds of supplies, including other dry clothes and a modest disguise. You can dry your hair with one of the hand dryers. Liza bought us tickets, yours should be in the purse with your money and passport. We won’t talk again until I find you on the train, and only if it looks like the coast is clear.”

  The large, wheeled piece of luggage stands upright in front of the women's room. Amanda casually walks up, grasps the handle, and wheels it into a spacious handicap stall. She unzips it and flips open the top, revealing a gray backpack nestled in some clothing and other items. Inside she finds a small purse, a KA-BAR knife like the one Ryan trained her with, and a sheath with a Velcro strap, which Amanda straps to her leg below the knee before she slides the knife into it. A pair of sweatpants with a matching top are neatly folded under the backpack. Thank God, she says to herself as she kicks off the sopping sneakers and sheds her wet clothing, tossing the items in a pile on the floor. Using long pieces of toilet paper, she dries her skin as best as she can before putting on the clean clothes.

  Now that she feels a little more human, she investigates the contents of her suitcase a bit closer. She leaves the pistol with the loaded cartridge in the backpack and sets it to the side. Underneath is more clothing packed by outfit in vacuum-sealed bags. She also finds a long, hard case and assumes it contains more weapons, along with some other unfamiliar items in soft, black cases. She opens the purse, which is full of Chinese yuan and Canadian dollars.

  Shoot, what's my name again? She looks at her Canadian passport. Rachel Michelin, right.

  Chapter 84

  Fly List

  It's 10:42 a.m. as Andy Michael stands in the TSA line at Washington National Airport. He glances at his phone and happily notes it’s more than two hours before his departure time to Beijing, China. Using his contacts, it had taken him less than a week to arrange for his Chinese visa. He inches forward in the TSA line carrying nothing more than a small satchel with a tablet and his necessary travel information.

  Andy hands his passport and his phone with his mobile boarding pass to the TSA clerk, a guy with a smoothly shaved head. The agent dutifully hands him back his phone but he makes a face after he scans his passport.

  "Uh, Mr. Michaels, step off to the side a moment, my supervising agent needs to speak with you."

  "What's the matter?"

  The TSA agent calls up the next person and doesn’t answer him. Within moments the supervisor, a heavyset woman with salt-and-pepper hair almost to her shoulders, saunters over to Andy.

  "Please follow me, Mr. Michaels, and I'll explain everything.” She leads him to the side of the busy TSA checkpoint.

  "Mr. Michaels, you're on our do-not-fly list. Our instructions are to contact the federal government if you try to board a plane. Just wait right here while I make a phone call.”

  She takes her phone out of a small pocket on her uniform and dials.

  "This is TSA supervising agent Jennings, Mr. Andy Michaels just came through security and came up on the DNF list with instructions to contact the FBI at this number. Yes, I can hold for a moment.” She shrugs apologetically toward Andy. "He's right here, I'll hand him the phone."

  "Andy, this is Solarez, you're on the do-not-fly list."

  "Yeah, that’s what she said. What the hell?"

  "Why are you trying to go to Beijing?"

  "To find my niece, and maybe my brother too, but you knew that.”

  “Look, leave this to us. If we’re busy worrying about your safety too, we have fewer resources to commit to finding Amanda. If you want, we can meet somewhere and I’ll give you some idea of what we’re working on, but I cannot let you go to China now. You could be additional abduction bait.”

  “How is this legal? You have no justification.” Andy says.

  “Really? You haven’t thought about that last blanket declaration.”

  “Is the CIA doing everything imaginable to bring her back safely.”

  “Believe me Andy, we’re doing our best to find all your family members. I will direct TSA to escort you to the nearest exit and we can meet as soon as you’d like.”

  Chapter 85

  Sleeper

  Amanda makes her way down the platform, weaving in and out between the Chinese passengers, many of whom are wheeling large, heavy suitcases. She smiles inside because she has nothing more than a duffel bag, but knows that this is no way to pack. She’s got more weapons than she does clothes. She glances over her shoulder for Ryan, who is nowhere to be found, and hopes it will be safe enough for him to find her on the train.

  Once aboard, she shows her ticket to a uniformed attendant who she assumes is a conductor. He points in the direction Amanda needs to head. She walks through a couple vestibules and arrives at a sleeper car. Luckily numbers are universal, even the Chinese use 1-10, just like Ryan told her. The door is ajar, so Amanda pushes it open the rest of the way and walks through. One passenger is already inside, a young Chinese girl who laid claim to one of the lower bunks. Amanda doubts the beds are assigned and claims the other lower bunk. An older passenger makes her way into the car, and then another. All four bunks are soon claimed.

  Amanda hears the Chinese, then English, announcement of their impending departure. Within ten minutes, the train is knifing through the air with an occasional slight undulation that soon becomes familiar to Amanda. Lying on the lower bunk, she stares at the underside of the one above her. At some point her eyes open, and she realizes she fell asleep, but is unsure of how long she was out.

  She thinks about how she ended up on this bullet train.

  What kind of scum-sucking cockroaches kidnap a defenseless baby? She will make them regret that decision.

  She feels with her fingertips along the thin foam-rubber pad masquerading as a mattress. There it is. She tugs on the lower portion of her backpack hiding the loaded pistol with the customized silencer, nestling what constitutes all her belongings in the crook of her right arm. The sheath strapped under the left pant leg of her jeans secures the long-bladed knife that was hidden in her duffel. And in the right pocket of her hoodie are two identical burner cell phones, one of which is her only means of communication with Ryan, the other to communicate with his logistical person inside China, but only in case of emergency.

  Imagining the linen scent of her favorite candle briefly tricks
her olfactory glands into ignoring the foul odors. The elderly Chinese lady on the bunk overhead smells like mildewed clothes. On the lower bunk an arm’s length away, the Chinese girl sleeps with her jacket over her head. The sleeper car’s other occupant, a tiny woman who barely stands five-foot tall and can’t weigh 100 pounds, presses her torso against the tiny sink, paper towels surrounding the collar of her shirt, while she works some type of soapy liquid through her dark brown shoulder-length hair. Amanda decides to pass on that shower.

  All I want is to get my brother back, she thinks. If captured, what could they possibly “get” out of her? To study her telomeres, maybe that’s what they would want? Or maybe they would torture her to learn whatever she knows.

  The bullet train hurtling northbound towards Beijing at 180 miles per hour suddenly lurches, causing a metallic screech that soon fades.

  Amanda thinks for a moment about a family photo. Of her dad, her, and her mom, sitting on the front porch of the house they used to live in. The one her Uncle Andy showed her, the one she hopes to recall on her own someday. She mentally photoshops her baby brother, Justin, in too. Nothing can stop fantasies no one else can see.

  The sink-showering lady climbs back up to her top bunk and talks in Chinese with the other older lady.

  If our plan fails, I won’t have to worry anymore, Amanda decides, because I’ll be dead. So will Ryan. And Justin? She’s not even sure he’s in Beijing, but if the Chinese government is behind the kidnapping, there’s a good chance that’s where they’re hiding him. Ryan’s plan is solid.