by James Rosone
“We’ve been questioning him since we apprehended him yesterday,” Captain Rodriguez replied nervously.
Colonel Cintra eyed the man intensely for a moment before asking, “Has he given you anything useful?”
Rodriguez’s cheeks flushed, and he lowered his head. “He will break soon enough.”
Colonel Cintra shook his head in disappointment. “Captain, I will take possession of the prisoner and take him to the Villa. Have him dressed and brought to the courtyard. My helicopter will leave in thirty minutes.”
Colonel Cintra turned on his heel and left Rodriguez there, dumbfounded. When he’d recovered from the sting, Rodriguez barked some orders to the guards, who went to work on getting the prisoner dressed and ready to leave.
*******
Three Hours Later
Colonel Leopoldo Cintra looked at the dirty prisoner sitting opposite him. He smelled of urine and feces. His nose was clearly fractured, and he was missing a couple of teeth. The local intelligence officer had worked him over well, but he hadn’t broken. The prisoner, whoever he was, was doing his best not to make eye contact.
Colonel Cintra walked up to one of the guards. “No one is to touch or harm the prisoner unless I give the order. Is that understood?”
The head of the guard force nodded and said he’d relay the instructions to his people.
“Have a doctor see him in the morning. In the meantime, bring him some water and food.”
Cintra headed up to the office he was using while he was here. It was nearly five in the morning, and the sun was starting to push away the dark of night. He sat down at the desk and reviewed the possessions the man had when captured: a high-end Nikon digital camera, a telephoto lens, a separate night vision lens, a small directional antenna and a few high-energy protein bars.
Whoever this man was, he clearly wasn’t a birding tourist who had gotten lost like he had claimed to be. This was spy equipment.
No matter—by later today, we will know exactly who he is, Colonel Cintra thought.
A knock at the door broke his attention. When he looked up, he saw Colonel Luan and smiled. “Good morning,” he said. “Come on in.”
The Chinese colonel walked in and took a seat. A moment later, an orderly walked into the room and asked if they’d like anything, and the two colonels requested some coffee before the man left to fill their order.
“I hear your people apprehended a spy near the new airport,” Colonel Luan said, a bit of unease evident in his voice.
Cintra waved off the man’s concern. “We did. But he is in custody, and soon, we’ll know who he is and who he’s working for.”
Colonel Luan sighed as he shook his head. “I had hoped we could keep our activities on the island a secret for a bit longer. The Americans will not like what is going on there.”
“The Americans don’t like anything we Cubans do,” Cintra countered with a laugh. “What will they do to us? Place an embargo on Cuba? They’ve embargoed us since the 1960s and yet here we are, still moving forward. No, my friend—the Americans have been overextended for decades, and now they’re in the midst of a pandemic and an economic depression. They will not do anything.”
“You are assuming this person you captured is American and not from some other Western country’s intelligence agency,” Luan said. Cintra felt as though this statement was a sort of test.
“Luan, China is new to this area of the world. You must understand something. This is America’s backyard. I doubt the Europeans care if China is building a military base in Cuba. The Americans, however—well, they will certainly care.”
Luan bristled a bit at Cintra’s cavalier response. “It’s a bit more than a military base we are building, Leopoldo. It’s an entire military complex, port, and refinery.”
“How much longer until your base is operational?” asked Cintra.
The Chinese colonel did not respond right away. “Soon. We have more workers arriving each day. Would you like to question your prisoner to learn his identity, or would you like me to save you the trouble and tell you who he is?”
Cintra’s left eyebrow rose. “You mean to tell me you already know who he is? If so, then yes, tell me who he is and save me the trouble of having to beat it out of him.”
The Chinese colonel reached down for his leather briefcase. He placed it on his lap and unlocked it, then reached inside and pulled out a manila folder, which he handed to Colonel Cintra.
“I received this prior to coming here. This is everything we have on the prisoner. His name is Isaac Jacobs. He was born in Toledo, Ohio, on February third, 1988. He’s married, with three kids, two girls and one boy. He joined the Army in February 2006. He completed Ranger school a year later, serving two combat tours in Iraq and a single tour in Afghanistan. And then his military record disappears in 2017.”
“Where’s the rest of his record?” Cintra asked, folding his arms. “Why did it suddenly end in 2017?”
Luan smiled a crooked grin. “That’s when he transferred to a clandestine group called Task Force Orange. They are an intelligence and surveillance group that supports their Delta Force, SEAL Team Six, and the CIA’s Special Activities Center. My suspicion is he was sent to Juventud Island to see what their satellites couldn’t tell them.”
Cintra thought about that for a moment as he scanned the man’s dossier. “How did you acquire all of this information about him?”
Chuckling softly, Luan replied, “Roughly a decade ago, the American Office of Personnel Management had a data breach. Do you remember hearing anything about it?”
Colonel Cintra shrugged; he honestly had no idea. Cuba wasn’t exactly the most cutting-edge place for outside news or information.
Luan went on, “It’s OK if you don’t. One of our intelligence groups hacked into this organization, which is responsible for maintaining the security clearance information for all their military, government, and contractors who work for the American government. Once we had the information, we created profiles of each person based on where they worked and what they most likely had access to. Our agents then went to work on creating compromising situations and blackmailing some individuals into working for us.
“As to why we suspect our Mr. Jacobs—or rather, Master Sergeant Jacobs—is most likely working for Task Force Orange, we apprehended one of their members in the South China Sea several years ago. It took many months to break that individual, but once he broke, he confirmed to us a list of twelve other members. Then it was a matter of monitoring those individuals and seeing who else they came in contact with over time. After doing this for a couple of years, we are confident we’ve figured out who most of their members are. Then it was a matter of observing where they went to know what they were up to.”
“OK, so if we know who he is, and who he is working for, then what do you want to do with him now?” asked Cintra.
Luan leaned forward. “We use him as leverage. You see, since we know what he was doing, and we know who he is, we use that to get the Americans to trade for him. What I propose is we trade him for one of your spies they’re holding and then ask for two of our citizens they grabbed in January. This can work out well for both of our nations, Leopoldo.”
The Cuban colonel thought about that for a moment. Then he realized this might work to his own benefit. If he could secure the release of a Cuban spy from the Americans…that might go a long way toward helping him with the Party. If he could secure two Chinese prisoners while he was at it, all the better.
A smile crept across Cintra’s face. “I think a trade would be a good idea. Let me propose it to my superiors. If you’ll do the same with your own, it might help me better make my case to include your two citizens in the request.”
*******
CIA Headquarters
McClean, Virginia
It had already been a long week and it was only Wednesday. Dotty was in a foul mood. Her and her husband’s trip to Antarctica had been officially canceled as of last night due to th
is new virus that was springing up all over the world. After the lessons learned from both SARS and COVID-19, the government had acted swiftly this time, shutting down foreign travel and locking down the two hundred cities in thirty-nine states where the virus had already popped up. Everyone hoped to avoid a nationwide shutdown like last time, but it might become inevitable.
Dotty had been looking forward to this cruise for more than a year. The chance to kayak around some icebergs, have photo ops with penguins, and camp on Antarctica itself was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
Maybe next year…or the year after, we can try again…
Only two more days until the weekend. Dotty hoped she wouldn’t have to work through it again.
Normally, Dotty and her team stayed focused on Latin America. Lately, they’d been tasked with determining why some countries in their area of responsibility or AOR had few or no cases of this new virus while others were being ravaged by it.
Something seemed off. The virus had spread like crazy in Mexico, Colombia, and the rest of South America. But there were hardly any cases in Panama, El Salvador, Cuba, and Venezuela. This virus unnerved everyone. Dotty wasn’t exactly the epitome of physical health. Like both her parents and her brother, she’d developed diabetes in her forties, and her sedentary job meant she was carrying a bit more weight than she should.
Dotty groaned audibly to herself as she looked at the latest cable from the US embassy in Havana. The station chief had sent it in late last night, which meant she didn’t have a lot of time to evaluate it before she’d invariably get called up to the seventh floor to discuss its contents.
The Cubans had captured an American spy and now they were demanding a trade. A trade was fine—that was normal and expected in their profession. What wasn’t expected was the additional caveats to the trade. The Cubans had included two Chinese nationals.
The audacity of them…to demand we fork over Chinese spies in addition to their own, Dotty thought.
The Cubans had sent a proof-of-life video of one Master Sergeant Isaac Jacobs, the man they’d captured in the act of espionage. Dotty watched the video. He looked like he was in bad shape. They’d clearly worked the man over. She knew the longer they left him in Cuban custody, the higher the chances he’d start singing. Everyone had a breaking point, no matter what Hollywood or survival and evasion school told people.
The whole mission had been a bust. Dotty had objected to the mission going forward to begin with. There was no reason to send an operative to the island. Her asset, Goldfinger, had already obtained the visual information of what was going on, and NRO had tasked a satellite to keep tabs on it monthly. They had everything they needed.
“You’ve seen the cable from the embassy?” asked one of Dotty’s team members.
Making a sour face, Dotty replied, “I have. What’s SAC saying about it?”
Snorting at the mention of the Special Activities Center, her colleague commented, “They want to launch a raid to free their guy. Barring that, they want us to make the trade.”
Dotty shook her head in frustration. What a cluster mess.
Ding.
An email notification popped up in her Outlook. Sure enough, there was her summons to the seventh floor.
“I need to go upstairs for an emergency meeting to discuss this. We’ll see what they want to do next. Have the rest of the team figure out if Ana Montes still has any value. I’m not opposed to trading her to get our guy back. While you are at it, investigate the other two people, the Chinese nationals, Yanqing Ye and Zaosong Zheng. They were arrested in January at Logan International. See if you can figure out why the Cubans would be interested in them.”
Dotty headed up to the seventh floor and over to the deputy director’s office. When she walked into the briefing room on the side of his office, Dotty saw a couple of members from SAC, along with a few analysis and section chiefs, their NRO rep, and a new face she didn’t recognize.
“Ah, Dotty. There you are. Let’s get started now that everyone is here,” Deputy Director Aaron Rodgers announced.
Rodgers was a rising star in the Agency—and, no, he had no relationship to the famous Green Bay Packers quarterback of the same name. Although Rodgers did like to play along and had thoroughly tricked his office out with Packers paraphernalia.
Rodgers had cut his teeth in the Middle East and then later in Ukraine as a deep-cover agent in the arms trade. He was also a bit of a darling to both the Senate and the White House. Despite all that, Dotty liked the man. He was sharp, but more than that, he really looked out for his people, a trait that wasn’t always common in the spy world, where agents were often hung out to dry if things went south.
“Uh, before we start, do you mind introducing us to our guest?” Dotty asked as she took her seat. She wouldn’t talk about classified information without knowing who all was in the room with her.
Aaron’s face flushed a bit as he probably realized he should have done that from the get-go. “This is Joel Metcalf. He’s from Defense HUMINT. He’s been working with Jessica Parker down in Doral on Joint Task Force Seven. He’ll be joining us for the brief.”
Everyone nodded at Joel but didn’t say anything. He was an outsider to their organization, even if he was part of the intelligence community.
“Let’s just get down to business, Aaron. What are we going to do to get my guy back?” demanded Jim, the director of the Agency’s Special Activities Center, known as SAC.
“The Director is weighing the options right now,” Aaron replied. “He has a meeting at the White House this afternoon with the National Security Advisor to present our recommendations. That means we have two hours to come up with a plan. I know Jim’s position. I want to hear others.”
“I propose we make the trade,” Amber from the Directorate of Analysis interjected before anyone else could. “As I’m sure Dotty’s team will attest, we have everything useful we can get out of Ana Montes. There’s no real reason to keep her if we can get our guy back.”
“Dotty, your agent, Goldfinger. He’s still safe for the time being, right?” Aaron inquired.
Dotty nodded. “He is. But I think we should talk about the other request the Cubans attached to Ana Montes. She’s not the only person they’re asking for.”
Jim from SAC scrunched his eyebrows. “What do you mean? We only saw Ana on the cable.”
“Late last night, our station chief in Havana sent us an eyes-only cable, outlining a meeting the ambassador had last night with the First-Secretary of Cuba,” Aaron explained, his facial expression betraying his displeasure. “The Chinese ambassador was also present in the meeting. First-Secretary Ventura said if we wanted our man back, we’d not only need to turn over Ana, we’d also need to release the two Chinese nationals we apprehended this past January. Their names are Yanqing Ye and Zaosong Zheng. They were detained at Logan International as they tried to board a plane to Beijing.”
A few people whistled. “Why would the Cubans lobby for the release of two Chinese spies?” asked Jim from SAC. “That seems like an odd request.”
Tara from NRO interjected, “The Chinese are probably pressuring the Cubans to include them. I think the bigger question is, why are they so interested in these two individuals now?”
Amber chimed in, “I think it’s obvious why. Ye is a lieutenant in the People’s Liberation Army. She hid that on her visa application. She’s also a PhD student at Boston University in their robotics department.”
“Yeah, but why is that a big deal? There are thousands of Chinese nationals studying in PhD programs in the US. Many of them are probably military as well. What was so big about this particular student?” Aaron pressed.
Amber continued, “When Boston Dynamics started a research project with Boston U, it was only supposed to include US citizens. Boston Dynamics is partnered with DARPA, so anything they do is classified. Ye managed to get herself included in a program that was working to support the LS3 project for the Marines. She lied on her application, s
aying her parents were Chinese immigrants and she had recently obtained her US citizenship. Clearly, someone in the vetting department didn’t do a very good job. In all honesty, the only reason the FBI was alerted that she might be up to something nefarious was that a systems administrator at Boston Dynamics discovered someone had attempted to download some sensitive files pertaining to the OS for the retired BigDog program and the current LS3 one.”
“Holy crap, Amber. Was she able to leak that data to her handlers?” the SAC director asked in shock.
Amber nodded. “She did. However, it was phony information she stole. It was a honeytrap the company had set as a means of keeping potential hackers from finding the real stuff. When she accessed the honeytrap, that’s when they alerted the FBI. I suspect the Chinese want the Cubans to use this opportunity to get two of their spies out of our custody.”
Aaron bit his lower lip as he thought about the situation. “This request for the two Chinese nationals kind of complicates things. Trading Ana to them was a no-brainer, but these two…that’ll be a tougher sell. We’re still debriefing them. I have two questions I’d like answered, preferably before the Director has to meet with Mr. Wilson later today.”
Everyone looked at Aaron, waiting to hear his questions. Dotty had a good guess at what they were.
“First, what kind of intelligence value do we still believe these Chinese nationals have? Second, what’s going on in Cuba that the Chinese believe they can leverage the government to trade our guy for two of theirs?”
No one spoke for a moment. Dotty had a good idea, but she wanted to hear what Amber had to say.
Instead, Tara from NRO spoke first. “I don’t know specifics, but I can tell you from our perspective what the Chinese have been up to.”
Aaron nodded for her to continue.
“For the last three years, the ports of Mariel and Havana have been undergoing major construction. Both ports have more than tripled in capacity. We’ve also seen new construction taking place at Havana International and two very old military airfields. I’m talking runway extensions, new hangars, storage facilities, improved perimeter security, and guard towers. The Isla de la Juventud, however, underwent a radical transformation—”