Estival said, “Six-seven minutes, max.”
* * *
The commander led John to the building with the two apartments and a large, opulently furnished office. Floor to ceiling windows filled most of two walls.
The windows I saw from the Black Hawk.
A sign outside the door identified the office as Zhi’s. A placard on the desk outside the office was for Major Zhang Meng, the guy Estival’s men had captured in the room next to Stony.
A solitary lateral file cabinet with two empty drawers sat behind Meng’s desk. Next to the cabinet were four open banker’s boxes filled with files. John looked around. No computers. He bent and flipped through the files. Nothing but the usual office crap.
He asked Estival, “Computers?”
“Half dozen of them scattered around the camp. They’re already on the chopper.”
“Did you find any place where something might have been burned? A fifty gallon drum outside? A furnace?”
“No sir. Nothing like that. No more file cabinets, either.”
Maybe the good stuff is on the computers.
“We gotta get out of here,” Estival said. “We’re way behind plan.”
“Fuck, we can’t leave the kids behind.”
“What kids? We can’t find them. Besides, we’ve got no choice. If we delay any more, and we’ll get lit up by friendlies.”
* * *
John sat strapped into the Black Hawk that carried Stony and the injured SEALs. He stared through the open door at the neighboring empty Black Hawk, where excited and scared kids should have been.
The doc had warned him that Stony probably wouldn’t survive the trip.
I thought I could protect her. How the hell could I let it end this way, me alive and her dying?
A small smile lit his face.
She would remind me that she isn’t dead yet. Tell me to quit my damn bellyaching.
He leaned back and closed his eyes as the doors slammed shut. The rotors spun up, and the helicopter tried to shake itself apart for the flight back to Seoul.
We did it, kiddo. Crane is no more.
Washington, D.C
The United States
“Was the heart attack real?”
John and Marva were sitting on the patio outside her office. The snow on the ground had been swept to the side and a couple of propane sidewalk heaters were keeping the cold temperature at bay. A surreal, secure place to talk.
Her boss, the Director of National Intelligence, had died of a heart attack just before John left South Korea.
“Yes.” She sighed. “Hell, I don’t know. He was certainly under a lot of stress and had a history of heart trouble.”
They sat facing each other in chairs painted the same color as the surrounding snow. Marva leaned forward and spoke in a hushed voice. “Dish, when we’re finished here, four people will know this story—you, me, Barrett, and the President. It has to stay that way. This will be the last time I talk about it and I’m not taking questions. Are we clear?”
He nodded.
“There was a U.S. program, called Dominance, similar to Crane. It wasn’t sanctioned. The DNI came up with the idea and personally led a team of CIA agents tasked to his office. Dominance had the same goals as Crane but wasn’t as far along. They’d bought kids on the trafficking market, but never tried magic.”
John ignored Marva’s warning that she wouldn’t answer questions. “Our own people bought kids and kept them imprisoned?”
She continued as if he hadn’t said anything. “The DNI ordered me to shut you down as soon as it was clear that Crane was the real deal. He must’ve thought he could somehow learn from the Chinese. The President was tipped to Dominance when one of the CIA agents sent him an anonymous email that wasn’t so anonymous.”
“What’s happened to the Dominance team?”
“They’ll have top-secret trials under the terms of the Patriot Act, be found guilty, and sentenced to life in isolation. The tipster has been transferred to a military watch station in Antarctica. The Director of the CIA will resign in a couple of months for being too stupid to know what was happening in her own department.”
So much for the constitution. But magic controlled by one individual? Was there a real alternative?
Marva hesitated. “You asked a question. I feel so much shame about what we did that I have a tough time thinking about it. Yes, we bought kids. They’re being placed in foster homes and will be well taken care of.”
The hiss of the gas flowing through the heaters was the only sound in the courtyard for several minutes. John watched snowflakes drift out of the gray sky and disappear in the invisible warmth that surrounded them.
“What did we learn from the aide captured at the Crane site?” John asked.
“He died of his injuries during questioning. We got a little from him, but not a lot.”
“Estival didn’t say anything about the guy being wounded.”
Marva lifted and dropped her shoulders in a gesture that was as eloquent as it was ambiguous. She told him about Wu Jintao. About how Zhi used magic to heal Wu and make him emotionally dependent on Zhi.
“Wu?” John asked. “As in Wu De’s father?”
“Yes. Wu Jintao is one of the top three power brokers in China. Or was. He killed himself while you were flying home. The CIA shrinks think Wu’s suicide may have been a consequence of the magic. His despair about Zhi’s death.”
“Christ,” John said. “What about the files and computers?”
“Administrative shit, including lots of detail about where they got the kids. Global busts going on as we speak. But nothing about how Crane worked. Apparently Zhi took his secrets to his grave.”
“Huh. That would be consistent with a paranoid psycho’s personality. I hope to hell it’s true.”
“One last thing. The aide claimed the kids used magic on Stony’s injuries. The idea wasn’t to cure her, but to get her well enough to tell them everything she knew about their operation. Then the SEALs crashed in.”
“So, what happened to the kids?” Marva asked. “What did they do with them?”
“We have no clue. The aide didn’t say anything about them, and the CIA couldn’t persuade him otherwise before he died. They must have gotten away in the dark and confusion.”
John shivered. “So they healed Stony, at least a little. And then Zhi shot her and she almost bled out. Christ,” he said again.
Marva hesitated for a moment. “I know I made things difficult for you and Stony. I’m very sorry. I assumed my orders were legitimate and for a good purpose. Given the same knowledge, I’d do the same again.”
John had anticipated this moment since the copters lifted off from North Korea. He knew Marva. He trusted how well he could read her when they were face to face. He believed her. “Apology accepted. For what’s it’s worth, I’d have done the same.”
“Thank you.”
“One last question. Do Stony and I still have a job?”
Marva nodded and smiled. “Oh yeah. The President’s grateful that you two saved his ass and this country’s future. I’m thinking you would make a great special projects team.”
She stood, eyes glistening. “Let’s go visit her.”
Afterword
Thank you for reading The Scarlet Crane. If you enjoyed the book and have the time, may I ask you to leave a review? I’d appreciate it. Reviews help other readers find books they may enjoy and are critical for the success of books like The Scarlet Crane. Click here if you would like to leave a review. And thank you.
The other books in the transition magic series are:
The Saffron Falcon, Transition Magic Book Two
The Ebony Finches, Transition Magic Book Three
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About the Author
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J. E. Hopkins is the author of the fantasy thrillers The Scarlet Crane, The Saffron Falcon, and The Ebony Finches. Born on the leading edge of the baby boom, he won an elementary school contest with an article on Wilkie Collin’s The Moonstone. The article was published in the local county newspaper and was his last publication for more than fifty years.
Which is not to say that the intervening years were a complete waste--his career taught him toilet paper design, software development, educational technologies for assessing student learning, and bumblebee energetics.
A life-long voracious reader, his writing influences include Isaac Asimov, J. R. R. Tolkien, and Douglas Preston/Lincoln Child, John Connolly, Greg Bear, Rosa Montero, and …
Some might say that he’s easily influenced.
The Scarlet Crane: Transition Magic Book One (The Transition Magic Series 1) Page 30