Jermaine Simmons’s team had successfully breached the trap door from the roof and had stormed into the top floor. They were met in the inky darkness by a number of young Chinese men and women who’d clearly been sound asleep just a moment ago, but who were now frantically trying to collect themselves and their possessions. His team worked quickly in the darkness to secure everyone and locate and neutralize any weapons. They had an extreme advantage with their night vision, so the lockdown went smoothly and rapidly. Simmons estimated that it had taken less than thirty seconds to accomplish this feat. By the time they’d finished, they’d collected a total of two pistols—one that had been stashed in the pocket of an overnight bag, the other lying in the open, underneath a cot.
As they worked, they could tell from the transmissions from Alpha Team that things weren’t going well down below, which made them move even quicker than they would have otherwise. Once the fourth floor was secure, Simmons immediately gathered the team at the doorway that would take them down to the next level. Jon Suzuki set the charge and they backed away, awaiting the explosion. However, after the detonation, Simmons found, to his chagrin, that the door remained intact.
“Command, this is Echo One. Initial detonation on entry to charlie level unsuccessful. We’ll try it again.”
“Roger that, Echo One. Try it again. Over.”
Eric Martin stood near the rear entrance into beta level, taking advantage of an occasional opportunity between gunfire to peer inside the room where Birch, Escobar, Harvey, and Metz were still pinned down. Johnson was groaning in pain as Oteri, kneeling on his knees, tied a cloth around his leg where the wound was.
Oteri said, “Hang on, Johnson, we’ll get help here asap.”
Oteri was tying the cloth and reporting Johnson’s injury to Command when he heard a thud off to his left, which drew his attention. Something had fallen from above and landed near them, a bag of some kind. He felt a hand on his left shoulder. Oteri looked over at Martin, who was pointing upward. Martin was pointing upward with his arm and saying, “The stairs…up on the third floor landing.”
Oteri adjusted his vision to where Martin was pointing. Standing on the third floor landing of the fire escape was a young male who had already spotted the three of them. He had both of his arms raised in the universal sign of surrender. Martin said, “He dropped something—a bag, or something.”
Martin was moving to retrieve the bag when a hail of gunfire ricocheted around them. Martin grunted involuntarily as he felt the sting of a bullet wound in his left hip. Oteri pointed to something behind him and said, “Behind there.” Martin limped as quickly as he could behind a heavy industrial steel trash bin and moved around to the opposite side, peering from behind it down the alley. Approaching them were two tiny motorcars—smart cars. In the one in front, there was a man leaning out of the passenger side window, a grenade launcher in his hands.
Temerak Hill’s immediate attention had been on the sudden appearance of a man on the third floor landing. He’d been peering through the scope of his rifle, trying to make out as much detail on the man as he could. Having the use of night vision was useful, but it was still more difficult making a read on finer details than it was in broad daylight. For this reason, he didn’t notice the two tiny smart cars until they were virtually on top of the remainder of Alpha Team, now huddled behind a refuse bin in the alley below.
In a flash, Hill thought he glimpsed a rocket-propelled grenade launcher appear out of the passenger-side window. He said into his mic, “Jeezus, Ollie, is that an RPG down there?”
“Affirmative, T. Better take him out.”
Hill lined the man holding the RPG up in his scope, as he’d done thousands of times on the range, and fired. His shot was followed almost instantaneously by Ollie’s. Hill had no way to tell for sure which of the two bullets struck, but the man’s torso slumped forward, the RPG falling to the asphalt beside the car.
Through his scope, Hill saw that the driver of the first vehicle had exited the car and had picked up the bag that had been dropped from the firehouse above. Judging by the effort required of the man, the bag appeared to be heavy. He was crouched over at the waist, folding the passenger-side seat back, and was trying to fit the bag behind the seat. Hill moved his finger to the trigger for another shot and fired, but the angle wasn’t the best and the driver had most of his torso protected inside the vehicle. The shot missed its mark.
Hill’s second shot seemed to alert the occupants of the cars to their presence on the roof. A second RPG appeared in the hands of the driver of the second vehicle. He’d exited and was standing, hunched over, trying to hide behind it. But Hill could see the weapon appearing from above the driver-side door, and he was pointing it directly at him. Hill put the sights on the man’s head, willed himself to be still and focus, and pulled the trigger. The man collapsed behind the car, the RPG falling to the ground.
The driver of the first vehicle had settled himself behind the wheel and whipped the little car into a U-turn, taking automatic weapons fire from the members of Alpha Team as he went. The bullets seemed to deflect off of the motorcars and he thought, for sure, that they had to be armored.
The first motorcar accelerated back down the clearing from where they’d come. Ollie and Hill unloaded rounds from their rifles, but, again, the bullets deflected harmlessly off of it. It passed by the second vehicle, which was still motionless. It was impossible to see inside the second vehicle, but Hill imagined that the passenger was trying desperately to switch his position over to the driver side. There were a few more moments’ delay, during which they continued to pummel it with rifle fire. But its armor won the day and, after another tense few moments, it veered into a U-turn and sped away.
Inside, on beta level, Metz realized his initial estimate of the number of adversaries behind the brick barrier was inaccurate. He’d since added three more soldiers, for a total of six. Simmons reported that Echo Team still had not been able to breach the door leading down from charlie level. After four attempts, the general agreement was that the Chinese had to have installed a significant barricade. Command advised Team Echo to cease any further breach attempts, while beta level fell into a heated standoff. The standoff lasted for nearly forty-five minutes, the Chinese and FBI exchanging bursts of gunfire, until the Chinese ran out of ammunition and surrendered after a short and rather clumsy negotiation. Once everything was under control, the FBI led the six armed Chinese soldiers, as well as the other Chinese men and women retrieved from charlie and delta levels, into the sedans. They would be transporting them to an FBI holding facility in Brooklyn.
Manhattan, New York
Monday, March 3, 7:23 a.m. EST
Andrus Fleischer stood with John Rose just off the corner of 138th and Hamilton, scratching his chin.
“I’m afraid we committed a cardinal sin,” Fleischer said, rubbing his chin with his index finger. “We failed to secure our perimeter.”
In front of them, the men were examining a narrow gap between two apartment buildings, the only such gap in the entire block.
“It never occurred to me that they would attempt to get an automobile into the alley like that. It can’t be more than ten feet across.”
Rose ambled closer to the opening and knelt to the ground. With his right hand he grabbed hold of a piece of the green iron metal that was now lying on the ground, its bars bent in where the smart cars had collided with it. “I suppose it wouldn’t have taken much to break through the gate.”
“True enough,” Fleischer said, “but the alley is only ten feet across, and when you consider the clutter in the alleyway, those cars must have been tiny.”
“So two of them broke through the gate, sped down this narrow alley, and then made a right turn into the courtyard, evading the trash bins and other obstacles along the way.”
“That’s how I understand it, yes.”
“And, in the process, made off with all of the electronic communications and other evidence. I’m not sure, e
ven with what we’ve seen up to this point, that we’ve been giving them enough credit for the lengths they’re going to pull this whole thing off.”
Fleischer was going to respond, but Rose’s cell phone buzzed. He pulled it from his coat pocket.
“Rose here.”
“John, this is Benny. We’ve got another abduction. It’s a Dr. Zina Natarajan this time. She was visiting a friend of hers out on Long Island when she was taken early this morning.”
“You’ve confirmed she’s with Brooklyn Capital?”
“Sí, she works in one of the research facilities in Brooklyn. She’s a physicist. That’s about all I know at this point.
Oh, and John?”
“Yes, Benny.”
“There been another demand to Monroe for money. Same account.”
“Monroe still isn’t budging?”
“No.”
“Keep me updated.” Rose disconnected.
“Another abduction?” Fleischer asked.
Rose nodded. “I’m getting damned tired of this, Andrus,” Rose said, shaking his head. “I’ll have to let you finish up here. I’ve got to get back to the command center.”
Chapter 34
Brooklyn, New York
Monday, March 3, 10:59 a.m. EST
In the shadows of Wang’s apartment, the light from his computer monitor flickered light to dark and back to light as he typed rapidly. He could make his keyboard sing if he wanted to and, having taken the day off from work to help Lee, he was taking full advantage. As Wang worked to stay on task at a project due for work and to keep up with his myriad of hacker contacts spread out around the globe, Lee had transformed her temporary workspace into a miniature battle room. She had detailed notes on five different tier three and tier four cities in China spread out before her, multiple sticky notes with facts and figures on start-up requirements in these cities, and a listing of competitor firms and their strengths and weaknesses. Her notebook had already suffered through three major coffee stains. She’d written her new assumed name—Meiying Choi—on a corner of the open page and had been doodling around it for the past hour.
The tapping at Wang’s keyboard stopped abruptly. “Let’s try again.”
Lee sighed heavily. For everything Mulala had done to help her, she had failed to give proper warning as to the difficulty of actually getting through to Meng. All she’d gotten to this point was a series of blunt notifications: Meng was in an important staff meeting, Meng was speaking to a potential high dollar value client, or Meng was away from work tending to a family issue.
Once again, Lee reluctantly dialed the general customer service number for Zou, Meng, Tong, and Associates. She was greeted with a soft, rather distant female voice—the same voice she’d spoken with four times previously. The voice belonged to the firm’s administrative clerk.
“One second,” the voice said. A few moments passed before the voice came back on the line. “Mr. Meng is here and has agreed to speak with you.” Lee exhaled softly and signaled with her hand to Kep that she was going to be put through to him. “If I may give you a short word of advice, Ms. Choi.”
“Yes, that’s fine,” Lee said.
“Don’t wait long to get to make your pitch. Mr. Meng receives numerous solicitations every day and I’m afraid his patience has grown shorter with these sorts of requests.”
“I’ll make it brief, ma’am.”
There was another moment of silence before a brusque male voice said, “This is Meng.” Like the secretary’s voice, Meng’s voice sounded tinny, distant. She hoped somehow her voice quality translated better than Meng’s.
In Mandarin Lee said, “Mr. Meng, my name is Meiying Choi. I’m calling from Frontier Consulting. We specialize in resolving the significant barriers to entry for foreign firms hoping to break into the Chinese marketplace.”
“I’m listening,” Meng said.
Lee continued. “We’ve built up a wealth of experience over the past ten years with small businesses. We’ve been successful enough to where we’re beginning to transition into larger projects involving medium- and large-sized firms.”
“One second,” Meng said, cutting her off. Lee heard a shuffling of papers and then the tone at Meng’s end of the line changed abruptly and for a moment her heart sank as she thought he’d disconnected. Her facial expression must’ve reflected confusion because Kep gestured at her with his hands as if to say, “What’s wrong?”
Lee heard a clicking sound and then, abruptly, Meng’s voice. “Ms. Choi, I have about forty seconds. I take calls from people soliciting their services every day. What can you offer that the others can’t?”
Lee took a moment to gather her thoughts, a moment too long, apparently.
“Ms. Choi, thank you for your time. I really must go.”
“Wait! Mr. Meng, please just give me thirty seconds of your time! Please!”
“Go ahead, then.”
“Thank you, Mr. Meng.” Lee focused to try and bring all of the information she’d gathered and synthesize it into a short, succinct message. “We’re an industry leader in getting foreign businesses to market quickly and in many of the growth markets in China. For over twelve years, we’ve been carefully developing a network of contacts within the local and provincial Chinese bureaucracy. In particular, we’ve targeted the processes that have traditionally caused barriers and bottlenecks for foreign firms in their attempts at establishing themselves in mainland China. We have partners situated in most of the relevant local and provincial bureaus responsible for issuing the working cards and employment permits within our chosen areas of operation. This includes the Public Security Bureaus where the Foreign Resident Permits are obtained.”
“Specifically, Ms. Choi, where are your areas of operation?”
“We work primarily in selected areas of growth, which include the cities of Wuxi, Foshan, and Xuzhou. We work mostly in third- and fourth-tier cities that have economic and legal conditions favorable for growth in the near- and long-term.
Meng said, “Hmmmm…What about Tangshan? Do you have any experience there?”
Lee furiously rifled through notes she’d prepared until she found a small section on Tangshan.
“Ms. Choi?”
“Yes, Mr. Meng. Sorry for the delay. In fact, we recently assisted a company called Sanborn Electric, a medium-sized firm based in Baltimore, Maryland with the process of establishing operations just outside of Tangshan. This was one of our larger projects to date.”
“Electrical, huh? That’s a tough industry to break into. Highly regulated. State-owned and controlled directly by the power ministry for many years.”
“To be sure, the project was an enormous challenge for us, particularly the process of negotiating with the electrical energy transfer and distribution companies. As you may know, the Chinese government has not yet opened these types of firms up to privatization. The financing presented a challenge as well.”
“The financing is always an issue in China,” Meng said. “What else is in your company profile? What have you done in Foshan and Xuzhou?”
“For example, in Foshan we were the lead consulting firm for Tiller Manufacturing. They manufacture steel, brass, and metal alloy products such as kitchen cutlery, pots and pans, and metal fittings and fasteners.” Lee paused for a moment. “As I’m sure you’re aware, Xuzhou is a well-known transportation hub. Here, we assisted Pariah Services Incorporated, a vending machine service out of New Jersey, and a smaller business that makes gourmet hotdogs. Those were a couple of our most recent projects.”
Meng said, “What benefits are you able to provide your retail clients?”
“Even after de-regulation, it can still be disproportionately difficult for small businesses to obtain loans. We have contacts in several banks within our areas of operation that, shall I say, ease the credit underwriting process for the loan applications our clients submit. They also help to facilitate the process of obtaining bank accounts. This is no simple feat, Mr. Meng. There ar
e some banks that require multiple documents in order to take out just a single checking or savings account. By our firm’s count, there are up to fourteen different legal documents required by the various banks we work with. This involved a huge amount of time and expense by our clients obtaining all of these papers. We have legal expertise, as well.”
“May I ask which banks you work with?” Meng asked.
“We have a listing on our website. May I email you a link?”
Lee heard a female voice coming from Meng’s end of the line. To the voice, Meng said, “I’ll be right there.” She heard some more mumbling from the voice before Meng said, “Fine. I’ll be right there.”
Meng said, “Ms. Choi, I’m sorry to cut this short, but I have a meeting I must attend just now.”
“That’s understandable, Mr. Meng. Would you mind if I email to you the link to our company website. It provides a detailed listing of all our services by location and industry. I think you’ll find it quite informative.”
“Fine,” Meng said. “I’m intrigued by your banking contacts.” Meng gave her his email address. Lee didn’t have time to say anything else before the line went dead.
Lee took a deep breath and turned toward Wang. “That was intense and frustrating. I don’t think I could ever be a salesman.”
“I thought you did really well.”
“I really wanted to get him to click on the link while I had him on the phone.”
Kep shrugged. “At least you got his email.”
“Yeah, so what now?”
“You send the email and we wait and we hope Meng clicks on the link.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“Then you may need to give him another call.”
Lee waited with Wang, anticipating that Meng might click on the link in the email. As the seconds turned into minutes, the hope she had when she’d sent the email faded into disappointment. Though Lee had always tended to keep her emotions to herself, Wang always knew when she was upset.
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