“Like the Palestinians.”
I tensed. We’d had many conversations about Israel and Palestine. Not with Dad around, of course—he wore his politics on his sleeve. Luke, it turned out, was more sympathetic to the Palestinian situation. I could see both sides of the issue, but being Jewish, I usually refrained from entering that political minefield.
“Let’s stick with the Uyghurs, shall we?”
We went back in to the library computer. I clicked on some of the articles I’d read the day before. Two or three that had been the most critical of China bore those “404” error messages, meaning the link was broken and the article was no longer online.
Chapter Fifty-three
Thursday
“Some of the videos and articles aren’t here,” I said in a surprised whisper.
“You sure?”
“I’m sure. Someone must have removed them over the past twenty-four hours.”
Luke shot me a disbelieving look. “Come on, Ellie. Are you saying they’re gone because you were screening them?”
“I don’t know. I just know they were here yesterday.” I clicked onto Wikipedia and started reading. “My God! There was a whole paragraph about alleged Chinese discrimination against the Uyghurs. It’s gone too.” I turned to him. “I swear to God it was here yesterday. Melissa can vouch for me. I told her about it.”
Luke swiveled around and glanced at Melissa, who gave him a tiny wave. Then he turned back to the screen and skimmed the article. When he was done, he leaned back. “So. A stranger runs you around the North Shore. You meet with her, and she tells you Parks was a double agent working for the Uyghurs. Then she fills your head with BS about persecution and suffering, and you come to the library to verify her story.”
I nodded.
“Yesterday it seemed to check out. But now some of that ‘verification’ has disappeared.”
“You sound like you don’t believe me.”
“I don’t know what to think. Anyone can change a Wikipedia article. Whenever they want.”
“I know.”
“So who edited the article? And why now?”
“Everyone knows the Chinese are the best hackers in the world,” I said quietly. It wasn’t my best comeback. “Next to the Russians,” I added.
“It doesn’t take a hacker to change a Wikipedia article,” he said. “The woman you met with yesterday could have done it herself.”
“But why? Grace wants the world to know about the plight of the Uyghurs.”
“Maybe she doesn’t.”
“No. I don’t buy that.”
“Why not? We still have no idea who’s on first. Hollander, Delcroft, Parks, the Uyghur woman, the Agency guy—”
“Stokes.”
“Whoever. All of them have an agenda,” he went on. “And by asking questions and talking to people, and especially by getting that flash drive decrypted, you’re screwing them up.” He tapped a finger on his lip. “Even if the Uyghurs’ claims of persecution are true, it’s not a state secret.” Luke went on. “It’s also no secret that the Chinese and US are working together to fight terrorism in that part of the world.”
“So you think the Chinese had something to do with this—this disinformation?”
“Look, Ellie. I don’t know who’s behind it, and I don’t care. But I do care about you. And Rachel.” He paused. “Meanwhile, the shit is getting deeper and deeper. Which is why we’re going to disappear for a while.”
“What—and not follow through on the flash drive? We have to.”
“No. We don’t. Or should I say, you don’t. Believe me, if Dolan figured out the encryption, so will Delcroft.”
“But I’m the only one who has the whole chain of communications. From both sides.”
“You don’t think Delcroft, or someone else, was hacking Parks’ email?”
I kept my mouth shut. He had a point.
“But, okay. Let’s assume you’re right. And that flash drive is the only proof of Hollander’s treason. What do you think Delcroft will do when they find out their chief engineer betrayed them? You think they’re going to thank you and give you a medal?”
“Luke…” My voice rose. Melissa caught my eye and tapped her index finger on her lips.
“Do you think for one nanosecond they’ll let it go public at all?”
I blinked.
Luke went on. “Whoever is behind this is going to want to cover it up. Make sure nothing sees the light of day. And what do you think they’ll do to the messenger who brought them the proof?”
I thought about the target on my back. It was growing larger. “I can’t disappear forever.”
“True. That’s why I went to see Grizzly this morning.”
“What for? What can he do?”
“Poke around, for starters. Find out who the key players are. Especially that asshole Stokes. Which is another reason why we’re leaving.”
I conceded. “You’re right.”
“Good. We’ll drive up to Lake Geneva. Rachel too.”
In spite of the situation, I smiled. “She’ll be thrilled. She’ll get to hang out at the Abbey spa every day. But what about Dad?”
“The security at his place is pretty good. He’ll be okay.”
This was true. With the bars on the doors and windows and a security guard 24/7, it can remind me of a prison more than an assisted living facility.
“Then we’ll fly up to the cabin at Star Lake,” Luke said.
The cabin at Star Lake was the place where Luke and I fell in love. Or should I say, the place where Luke allowed himself to love me. We make it a point to go up there every few months. He leaned over and cupped my chin. “Okay, sweetheart? You know I’m only trying to protect you.”
I nodded. “But do you think the cabin is a good idea? There’s no cell or Internet reception up there.”
“Exactly.”
Chapter Fifty-four
Thursday
Back home I called Rachel at work on my cell.
“Awesome!” she burbled. “I can go to the Abbey!”
“Sorry, but we won’t be there long.”
“Don’t tell me we’re going to that cabin in the middle of nowhere.”
I decided to avoid a spat. I also didn’t want to reveal the cabin’s location on the phone. Although I was supposed to have pretty good encryption, you never knew. “I’ll tell you when I see you. How soon can you get here?”
“I work until five.”
“You have to get here earlier.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
“Rachel, I can’t talk about it over the phone. Be here by three. At the latest.”
“What do I tell my boss?”
Her boss, Betsy McNair, was a no-nonsense fiftyish woman. She loved Rachel; me less so. “Make up something. Tell her your mother is having a meltdown and needs you.”
“That’s what I told her the last time.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’ll think of something.”
“How long will we be gone?”
“Bring enough for a week. Look, I gotta go. See you soon.”
• • •
It wasn’t all bad, I thought as I threw together a suitcase. The day, one of Chicago’s late winter gifts, was sharp and clear. Sunshine twinkled through the bare branches and glittered on metal like lighters at a rock concert. The drive up would be short, and we’d have nothing but five-star accommodations once we arrived. Luke lived in a mansion of which Thomas Jefferson would have approved, mostly because it was a replica of Monticello. How that happened is a long story that involves Luke’s late father. There are only nine bedrooms, most with adjoining baths, and a dozen other rooms, not including the kitchen, but we make do.
While we were waiting for Rachel, Luke said, “My turn to talk. Grizzly and I were batting around something this morning.”
“Okay.”
He sat on the family room couch and patted the seat beside him. I sat down. “A few months ago a few Chinese nationals
were indicted here in the US for stealing microelectronics designs from Silicon Valley.”
“So?” I drew the word out, wondering where he was going.
“And a year before that the Justice Department indicted five other Chinese for hacking into American companies to steal technology.”
I scratched my cheek. “Your point?”
“What we’re facing with Hollander isn’t exactly the same thing. If she really did sell the system to the Chinese, Hollander’s is a case of insider theft, not hacking.”
“I still don’t get it. They’re both crimes.”
“When the government tries to go after hackers, whether they’re Chinese, Russian, or whoever, they don’t have a lot of success. Hacker attacks can be difficult to trace to specific individuals, and it’s hard to arrest or even serve subpoenas to entities outside the US. It gets complicated.”
I tilted my head. “Which means…”
“Which means if she’s caught, Hollander could be holding the bag all by herself, criminally speaking.”
“You mean the Chinese will just go on their merry way and build the anti-drone system anyway?”
“Right. They’ll pin as much as they can on her, rather than risk political repercussions with us.”
I pondered it. “Hollander is no dummy. She must have known that was one of the risks.”
“We can’t figure it out. Why would she go ahead, if she knew she would be the only fall guy? Or woman?”
“I have no idea, Luke.”
“You had drinks with her. What did you think?”
I thought back to our meeting at the Happ Inn. “Actually, I kind of liked her. For a little while, at least. Then again, there’s always someone who thinks the rules don’t apply to them. Hollander fits the mold.”
Luke paused. “Well, we’ll have more time to think about it when we’re at the cabin.”
“By the way, next time you talk to Grizzly, can you ask him something?”
“Sure.”
“Can you ask him about US drone strikes in Uyghur territory? How often they happen? You remember that article at the library.”
“I’ll ask him, but don’t forget that drone strikes are one of the few areas where China and the US can cooperate. Even Russia can get into the act. Drop bombs on the Uyghurs rather than each other, and the superpowers can say they’re fighting the war on terror together.”
“That’s what Grace said. It’s interesting, though. There’s no mention of the Uyghurs in any of the emails between Parks, Gao, and Hollander. All of it is couched in antiterrorist language: early warning systems, precise navigation that homes in on the target…things like that. Someone did mention the sophisticated weaponry being used by drug cartels. And there was even a snide comment about Amazon. But no Uyghurs.”
“Does that surprise you?”
“I guess not.”
Luke checked his watch. “Hey, where is your daughter? It’s after three.”
I noticed how Rachel became “your daughter” when things weren’t going according to plan.
“I’ll call her.” I punched in her cell. It went to voice mail. “She’s probably on her way.”
Luke rose and started pacing. “We need to get going.”
I let him pace for a few moments. Then: “Stop. You’re making me nervous.” I checked the time on my cell. “It’s only ten after. What’s so urgent?”
“We should have left yesterday.”
“What do you know that I don’t?”
“Let me put it this way. If Griz makes the calls I think he’s going to, things might get hot.”
“Lovely.” I called Rachel back on my cell. Again I reached her voice mail.
Fear is contagious, and I was starting to get worried myself. To settle my nerves, I turned on the news. The weatherman had just told us it was going to be clear but seasonably cold when one of the anchors cut in.
“We have breaking news. We’ve just heard that a young woman has died in an automobile accident”—I sucked in a panicked breath: Rachel?—“on the Eisenhower Expressway.” I sagged in relief. I-290, or the Eisenhower or Ike, as it’s called, comes in from the west to downtown Chicago. Rachel would be taking the Edens, which is nowhere near the Ike.
The report cut to the scene of the accident shot by the news station’s traffic helicopter. I gasped. A battered green Toyota had been totaled, and smoke was rising from the front of the car. An ambulance was on-site, and the news helicopter zoomed in for a close-up of a body in a plastic bag on a gurney. An Illinois state trooper, the cops who patrol the highways, was talking to a reporter.
The scene cut to a camera on the ground. The news reporter, a woman, talked into it. “The victim, who has been identified as Grace Qasimi, was pronounced dead at the scene. Although it’s too soon to know exactly, authorities believe the steering failed, and she smashed into the guardrail head-on.”
“Oh God!” A wave of nausea rose from my gut and settled in my throat. “Luke! Did you hear this?” I covered my mouth with my hand.
Luke hurried into the family room. “What’s wrong? Is it Rachel?”
I could barely shake my head. “It’s Grace Qasimi. Gregory Parks’ girlfriend.” I pointed to the television.
Luke stared at the TV and watched. Then, “Oh, Christ.”
“What’s going on, Luke? I can’t believe it was an accident.”
Luke pressed his lips together. “Neither can I.”
“Then who?”
He came over and put a protective arm around me. “I don’t know.”
I remembered the man in the Baha’i Temple who’d been following us around. Was it him? If so, for whom was he working? The Chinese? Someone here? Apparently Grace had gone too far, but too far in what way? When? Whom had she offended? Whom had she threatened? I was terrified. I let myself collapse into Luke’s arms, and we held each other.
Chapter Fifty-five
Thursday
Half an hour later tires screeched on the driveway. Rachel had arrived. I let out a relieved breath, only then realizing I’d been holding it. So did Luke, I noticed. I pulled myself together and met her downstairs in the garage.
I’ve always loved the way a garage smells. Whether it’s the residue of gasoline fumes, or whether it seeps into the concrete walls and floor, it’s unique. Almost addictive. Probably toxic as hell, too. After the news about Grace, though, I couldn’t truly appreciate it.
“Sorry I’m late,” Rachel said. “Betsy needed me to finish with a client, and then I had to go home—I don’t even know what I packed.”
“Luke will be pleased you’re finally here.”
She cocked her head. “What’s going on, Mom?”
“It’s complicated. It has to do with that video for Delcroft I didn’t finish.”
“Are we running away?” She grinned. “To the Hole in the Wall?”
“Actually, we are trying to get away from the bad guys.”
“Holy crap. Really? How cool! I can’t wait to tell—”
“Uh—you’re not going to tell anybody. No one. Seriously. It could be a matter of life and death.”
Rachel’s smile faded. “Now you’re scaring me.”
I gave her a quick hug. “Sorry. No reason to be. Nothing bad is going to happen.”
Luke clattered down the steps. “Good, Rach. Glad you’re here.” He seemed to have calmed down as well and turned to me. “I’ve been thinking. We should take two cars. It’ll be safer.”
“Safer?” Both Rachel and I exclaimed at the same time. Concern splashed across my daughter’s face.
“Um, well, that was the wrong word.” Luke backtracked. “Convenient. It’ll be more convenient.” He absently brushed his hand across his forehead. “I’ll go in the pickup. You and Rachel follow in the Camry. We’ll have dinner in Lake Geneva, then fly up to the cabin in the morning.” He opened the garage door wider and proceeded to the pickup. “Don’t forget to turn off your cells.”
“Really?” Rachel said. “I
can’t listen to my tunes?”
“No. And it’s nonnegotiable.” His voice was sharp. “In fact, why don’t you give your cell to me?”
Rachel sulked. “I can turn it off myself.”
“Rachel, you can’t just turn the phone to airplane mode and play music. It still gives off a signal,” I said.
“I know.”
Luke glanced at me as if to ask, “Can she do it?”
I was about to shrug, but Rachel surprised us both by handing her cell to Luke. I thought I knew my daughter. What did she have up her sleeve? Or, miracle of miracles, was she finally mature enough to appreciate the gravity of our situation? In any case, I smiled. “Problem solved.”
“You too, Ellie.”
“Got it. Only call if it’s an emergency.”
Luke shook his head. “It won’t help. I’m turning mine off, too. But it’s only an hour drive.”
Chapter Fifty-six
Thursday
We headed out. It was nearly four, the sun starting to sink into the west. When we turned onto the Edens, Luke stayed in front of us. For a while I followed obediently: I sped up, slowed down, and changed lanes when he did. After about twenty minutes, though, I started to relax and let him drift a few car lengths ahead.
“I think we’re good,” I said. “No worries.”
Rachel and I sang camp songs. Then we told each other jokes. Then we actually had an adult conversation. She and Q were definitely a couple; she seemed as surprised as I. Still, I could see how happy she was. Then something occurred to me.
“Did you tell him you were leaving?”
Rachel slouched down in the passenger seat. She wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“You texted him, didn’t you?”
“Mom, I had to. We had plans for tonight.”
“I wish you hadn’t.”
“I didn’t tell him we were going to the cabin. Which reminds me. Do I have to go with you?”
Suddenly she was a little girl again, unwilling to go to the doctor in case she’d be getting a shot. “I mean, I’m not involved in any of this. And it’s boring. Can I stay in Lake Geneva? Please?”
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