The Thought Cathedral

by Nathan Williams

  “It was purely coincidence. I was riding shotgun at the time with one of the dealers for unrelated reasons when the dealer was called to attend this gathering at Peregrine’s place.”

  “So, once you found out Peregrine was going to be working inside Brooklyn Capital’s facility, you approached him?”

  “Yes, of course. I met him in Brooklyn.”

  “Did he remember you from the previous meeting?” Reardon asked.

  Zhang nodded slightly. “Yes, he did. I was surprised.”

  “What do you believe was Peregrine’s motivation for participating in Black Dragon?”

  Zhang shrugged. “If you’ve checked his bank accounts, which I’m sure you have, you’ll know that we paid handsomely for it.”

  “Did he mention any other reasons? Maybe more of a political nature?”

  “As you may know, Pathos is very outspoken against federal government interference, particularly against freedoms of expression. He was very angry with the FCC when they started enforcing certain regulations more aggressively. He felt this was having an effect on his conduct on his show and it was affecting his freedom of speech. There are other reasons, as well. Pathos is a complicated man, not an easy person to pin down.”

  The four men fell into silence for a few moments before Zhang asked, “Did you have any other questions for me?”

  Reardon glanced at Cardenas, his eyebrows raised. Cardenas clenched his jaw, and leaned back against his chair. “Negativo.”

  Reardon said, “You’re free to go for now, Mr. Zhang.”

  After Zhang and Pollak had exited, Reardon turned toward Cardenas, “Did the elder Zhang say that he knew about this assassin?”

  “I do not think so,” Cardenas said. “I don’t recall him ever mentioning him. But I’m glad, for Ms. Lee’s sake, that he’s dead.”

  “Me too, Benny. Let’s get out of this place. I’m getting too old to be spending any more time in prisons.”

  The two agents rose from their seats, and began the trek back out to their sedan, unsuccessfully avoiding the withering stare of the old headmaster on their way.

  Chapter 44

  Brooklyn, New York

  Thursday, March 13, 7:48 p.m.

  Keplar Wang was sitting on Lee’s recliner, his computer on his lap, while Lee sat on her sofa, chomping on a golden apple.

  “I’m worried about you,” Wang said. “Has the FBI said anything about the possibility of future attacks?”

  Lee frowned, then took another big bite out of the apple. She could only see the top half of his head over the monitor on his laptop. “They think it’s really unlikely, but they won’t rule out the possibility.”

  “Haven’t they offered any protection?”

  “Yes, but I rejected it.”

  Wang quit typing, and glanced at her over his laptop. “Why? Seems like it would be a good idea, at least for a while.”

  “Nah, I’m not going to go into hiding. I’ve spent hours going over everything with the FBI. They believe there are two possible reasons for why I was attacked, neither of which is likely to happen again.”

  “What theories?”

  “The first theory is that the Chinese man who attacked me feared that I knew of his identity and decided to take matters into his own hands.”

  “But he’s dead, right? So no need to worry about him.”

  “Yes, exactly.”

  “And the second theory?”

  “That the organization—or, I guess the FBI is calling it a syndicate—felt that I may know too much and wanted to try to get to me before I could fully inform the FBI.”

  “I see. But it’s been quite a while now, right?” Wang was speaking while typing on his keyboard.

  “Yes, exactly. I’ve already told the FBI everything I know.”

  “Do you think the FBI will still try to keep tabs on you?”

  Lee took another big bite out of the apple. “I really don’t think so, since I’ve been exonerated of any wrongdoing by Zhang. I’d be really surprised.”

  “Do you want me to keep an eye on your systems for a while?”

  “Nah, I don’t think it will be necessary. I’ll let you know if anything seems off.”

  Wang’s eyebrows shot up, and he spun his laptop around slightly. “Take a look at this.”

  Lee sprang off of her sofa.

  “I think this has something to do with your Brooklyn Capital case,” Wang said.

  Lee swung around to the side of him so she could see the screen, which was showing a video feed from a news station. Lee squinted her eyes and moved in closer. On Wang’s monitor was a thin man with long brown hair being led out of an apartment building in handcuffs.

  Lee said, “Can you turn the volume up?”

  “Already on it,” Wang said. A moment later, the voice of a newsman came through the speakers.

  “…French authorities are refusing to cite a reason for Peregrine’s arrest. Peregrine, who cut his broadcasting teeth in a number of smaller studios in New York City, rose to regional fame hosting his radio show, a mix of pop culture and political satire. The flamboyant ex-radio host has had his fair share of legal issues, including arrests related to his alleged involvement in a heroin-distribution ring. While Peregrine was never formally charged and the details of the case were never made public, it is generally recognized that Peregrine took a plea deal for information related to the heroin ring and related activity, thereby implicating one of his ex-producers in the process. Peregrine later survived an assassination attempt by the ex-producer as he was leaving his Brooklyn apartment…”

  Lee said, “Where was he arrested?”

  Wang squinted his eyes. “Looks like Paris, France if the image down on the corner of the screen there is correct.”

  “Do you mind if I watch the video from the beginning?” Lee asked.

  Wang handed the laptop to Lee, who walked it back to the sofa. With the computer perched on her lap, Lee played the video back from the beginning. She found there was virtually no new information in the first portion of the video other than a casual, speculative comment that the theft of the data could possibly be tied to the abduction and subsequent murder of several high-level Brooklyn Capital researchers.

  Lee glanced at Wang, who seemed to be studying her reaction to the video. “Relax, Kep. I can handle this.”

  Wang sighed and leaned back into Lee’s sofa. This caused a pin to slide back, releasing the suppressed energy of the spring-loaded missile. It burst ferociously from its compartment underneath the recliner, arching in an upward motion between Wang’s legs. Wang emitted a quick, involuntary gasp as the missile struck him squarely in his head, his glasses toppling through the air, off the back of the sofa and onto the floor as a sharp, joyful laugh from Lee echoed boisterously throughout her apartment.

  Manhattan, New York

  Thursday, March 20, 2:17 p.m.

  Operation Crimson Shield was slowing down now, and Rose actually had extended periods of time in his office when he could complete his paperwork and field calls without interruption. He was neck deep in financial and budgetary documentation related to the operation when his secured landline buzzed. The voice on the other end was male, young-ish.

  “Is this John Rose?”

  “This is John.”

  “Yes, sir, my name is Greg Jefferies. I head up the IT forensics team assisting with the Brooklyn Capital case.”

  “Yes, Greg, what can I do for you?”

  “We’ve discovered that the Chinese hacked the computer of one significant member of your team, and have had access to the computer for quite a long time.”

  “Who are you referring to?”

  “You, sir.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes.”

  After an extended period of silence, Jefferies continued. “We found an open port connection on your laptop. It’s been open, we think, since 2009.”

  Rose remained silent. Jefferies said, “Did you ever visit Brooklyn Capital at all, sometime ba
ck around 2009?”

  Rose struggled until his mind flashed back to sometime in the winter of 2009. He was in one of Brooklyn Capital’s manufacturing facilities, where Lorren and a few other FBI senior personnel had been invited to try out one of the reconnaissance eyeware demos. He remembered standing around a projector screen in an open area of the facility with the other FBI execs as Monroe and one of his senior engineers had tried to explain how the glasses worked. The schematics on the projector had been complicated, reflecting the intricate nature of the product. Though highly technical in nature, Monroe had sprinkled in enough layman’s terms that he’d found it quite interesting. He remembered, in particular, how Monroe had said that the projection system in the glasses was essentially the same as what was used in the HUD devices for the company’s new virtual reality intranet.

  He recalled how Monroe had set aside one of the demo HUDs for them to try on, but the technicians had taken all of the available laptops so they didn’t have a way to access the intranet portal. Rose happened to have his laptop with him and volunteered it for the demo.

  “Mr. Rose? Are you there?”

  Rose snapped back into real time. “Yes, sorry, I’m here. Yes, I did visit Brooklyn Capital in February of 2009. The company CEO, Charlie Monroe, invited Lorren and myself and a few other guys over to their facility down in New Jersey to demo the recon glasses. We didn’t have any computers to use in the demo, though, so I volunteered mine. This was a onetime deal. You’re saying the connection remained intact and was somehow exploited to hack into my computer?”

  “Yes, sir, that’s exactly right. We found an open port in your computer that the Chinese established a connection with at some point. We traced the connection back to David Zhang.”

  “David Zhang,” Rose repeated.

  “Yes, that’s right. Zhang had access to the intranet network connections both during his time as an intern in 2007 and later as a developer for Brooklyn Capital.”

  Rose remained silent for a few more moments, thinking. “Terry, was it just my laptop?”

  “Yes, we believe Zhang only had access to your laptop.”

  “So he could read my emails, but only from the laptop?”

  “Yes, most likely. He had access to your whole system. Keep in mind that, a couple of years ago, we upgraded our email system and moved the new system to its own server. The email software on your laptop is older, and you probably noticed that the email activity on your laptop is not coordinated with the email on the newer system. So, any message chains on your laptop wouldn’t be viewable on your desk top and vice versa.”

  “That explains a lot,” Rose said. “I customarily alternate between my desktop in my office at headquarters and my laptop. Lately though, I’ve been using my laptop most of the time, since we’ve been in the temporary building here.”

  Rose paused again to think before continuing. “That’s why they weren’t expecting us at the firehouse and, later on, at the safe house, where we found the hostages. I remember I sent those communications from the desktop at headquarters.”

  Jefferies said, “Most of the organization doesn’t even use the older email system anymore. We only keep it running because some of the guys here in IT use it and a handful of the researchers. We get a little nostalgic with our systems.”

  Rose sighed heavily and said, “Has anyone else’s computer been hacked? How much access did they get to other FBI systems? And to our databases, for that matter?”

  “We haven’t found anything else yet, but we’re still working on that,” Jefferies said. “Fortunately, the systems on your laptop are somewhat limited as compared to your main computer. I’ll keep you updated.”

  Rose thanked him, and buried his head in his hands for a moment, thinking about the sequence of events that had occurred during the investigation. He would need to tell Lorren, who had been coordinating his own internal spy hunt for the past few weeks. He couldn’t think of much good that would come from his conversation with Jefferies, but at least, it seemed, they could put the mole theory to rest. He was still sorting through the information when he heard a rapping on his door.

  Jillian Frank had opened his office door a crack and stuck her head in. “John, we have Lois Delaney on conference call. She’s an Assistance District Attorney in Manhattan.”

  “Oh yes, thanks, Jillian. I’ll be right out.”

  Rose grabbed a Styrofoam cup and filled it three-quarters full with cold water before making his way out to the command center, where all the FBI personnel who had been working Operation Crimson Shield were gathered. They acknowledged his entrance in their various nonverbal ways: a smile, nod of the head, a wave. For sentimental purposes, he took a mental snapshot of the group as he tended to do when they had neared the end of an investigation.

  “Where are we at?” Rose asked as he sipped on his water. “Do we have Lois on the line?”

  Pernetta Walker said, “We’ve got her on, but she had to leave momentarily. She said she’ll be right back.”

  “Okay. How about an update on the Dunne investigation. Anything new, Mathiason?”

  “We’ve not had any new evidence in a while as far as identifying the individuals,” Mathiason said. “We still get an occasional lead on a witness, and I’m still pursuing those. We know Zhang has said in his statement that the shooter was a Chinese individual who had been trained in the P.L.A. and was working for the Chinese intelligence apparatus. We haven’t found anything that would go against that hypothesis, including observations from our most credible witnesses. If Zhang is being truthful, the shooter has been out of the U.S. for a while now. Of course, I continue to check for and verify travel into and out of the country with suspects whenever possible.”

  Rose said, “Any updates on the sea vessel and the two apartment buildings owned by Zhang?”

  “Cardenas has been working on the vessel,” Reardon said. He turned to Cardenas.

  “Es perfecto,” Cardenas said. “The vessel is a commercial fishing vessel, but it doesn’t appear to have been used in this manner for some time. It’s a 180-foot longliner, with some modifications to the interior. Two of the berths were cleared out to make more room for an adjacent work space, which appears to have doubled as the captain’s quarters. We have not found any forensic evidence of Halberstom’s presence on the ship, but the presumption is that this is the vessel where he likely was taken out to sea before being dumped overboard. DNA evidence collected from hair follicles and other items on the boat match the Chinese national who was killed attempting to assassinate Lyn Lee in Brooklyn. We’ve also matched DNA with a couple of other Chinese nationals who we had taken custody of during the raid on the firehouse and the apartment in Brooklyn where the hostages were found.”

  “How many Chinese nationals have we linked to this syndicate and how many do we have in custody?” Rose asked.

  Cardenas glanced at Reardon, an invisible torch having been passed. Reardon said, “From evidence, including the communications and other data retrieved from the network at Zhang’s cabin, we’ve accumulated fifty-three names, but we only have twenty-four in custody at the moment. These include all the people processed after the raids, a handful that we took into custody after we identified them from available evidence, and the two mysterious Chinese who were with Lee—the man who was killed trying to strangle her and the woman who shot him.”

  Rose said, “We believe this man was an assassin, and was responsible for all of the deaths of the three Brooklyn Capital researchers?”

  Reardon said, “We understand his name is Zhixin Zhu. Or, at least, that’s what the young woman—the asylum seeker—who shot him is telling us. We believe he was a soldier in the P.L.A., or he was at some point. Lyn Lee said he had worked as an assistant of Ambassador Li’s so we took his photo around to people who may have come into contact with him. We found a lady at the U.N. who recognized him as part of Ambassador Li’s security detail. We’ve pressed the Chinese embassy for more information, but they maintain they do no
t know the man. They’re denying any knowledge about him. The young woman who shot Zhu acknowledged that Zhu was military and brought to New York City as an assassin. The evidence at the scene of the murders reinforces her testimony. We’ve linked this man to all of the deaths through DNA and other evidence. We believe his weapons of choice were the leather bolo neck ties he preferred to wear. The lady at the U.N. says she always saw him wearing these ties. He had one of them in his coat pocket at the time we found him with Lee. We were able to match the fibers on the tie to those found in the neck wounds of the victims.”

  “I’m sure the ambassador has been forthcoming in his knowledge of Zhu?” Rose asked, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in his voice.

  “The ambassador, as you might imagine, has invoked his right to silence.”

  “What about this woman who shot Zhu?”

  Reardon continued, “It’s been hard getting any information from her. She says she is an operative for the Chinese Ministry of State Security and was brought into New York to help with the theft of the data from Brooklyn Capital and with the abductions. She says she’s not considered a high-level operative, but she has expertise in computer networks and programming and, more recently, she says she has also been performing some of the less technical duties of their normal intelligence agents, including surveillance.”

  “Does she have a name?” Rose asked.

  “Her cover name is Mindy Liu, but she says her real name is Su Lijiao.”

  “Has she said how she got to the States?”

  “She says she was smuggled in from Canada. She was flown to Toronto from Beijing, and was driven across in the back of a van.”

  “Who is she?”

  “She’s been very reticent about giving out information,” Reardon said. “She has said she grew up in—”

  Reardon momentarily flipped through a small notepad.

  “—in Chongqing, a very large city in southwest China. She says she grew up very poor. She lost her mother when she was a child and her father has been a cab driver in Chongqing for as long as she can remember. She did extremely well in their national testing and graduated from secondary school at sixteen and was admitted into the University of Science and Technology of China, which she says is considered one of their key national universities. She worked in IT for a few months as a programmer for a firm in Beijing. She had a manager at the firm she worked for who had connections with the Ministry of State Security and one thing led to another. She says she’s been working for the Ministry since 2012.”