by Mark Greaney
Of course, with the arrival of the technicians, Adam assumed he’d be going to some previously mothballed floor.
In the lobby they were told to line up, and one of the impeccably dressed minders said, “I will pass out your keys. Four people to a room. Everyone will be staying on the twenty-sixth floor.”
Wow, Adam thought. He and his cohorts were probably the only people in the hotel, and virtually the only foreign travelers in the huge city.
A small reception for the Chinese technicians began at nine p.m. in a banquet room in the basement. To get there, Adam had to line up with the others on the twenty-sixth floor and wait for a group of minders to come up and then ferry everyone down in groups in the elevator.
Adam knew he should have been made uneasy by the tight control; it was probably like being in a maximum-security prison, after all. But to Adam it felt more like his memories of grammar school. Grown-ups making the children line up and wait, and constantly checking their every move.
The banquet room was almost comically ornate, and five times too large for the quantity of Chinese technicians. A dozen waitresses worked the room, none of whom spoke a word of Chinese. Adam chatted with his new colleagues, but most of them were too nervous to enjoy themselves, so the conversation was stilted. One of the waitresses turned a radio on and held a PA microphone up to the little speaker, broadcasting thin and scratchy revolutionary music throughout the banquet hall. Adam would have enjoyed the spectacle of the scene, and he could have stayed for hours, but he stopped drinking after two beers. He figured he would need fifty to calm his nerves, considering his predicament, and he was very aware of the fact good intelligence officers did not become better intelligence officers the drunker they got, so he just held his mostly empty bottle, grinned stupidly, and bobbed his head with the music.
He tipped well, but not enough to draw attention to himself, and then he went to the door, where a minder met him to escort him back to his room.
On his way back up to the twenty-sixth floor, he remembered something else about this hotel. To confirm the rumor, he leaned around his minder at the front of the car and looked at the floor numbers.
Yes. Just like he’d been told, Adam saw that the fifth floor did not exist. He assumed that was where the watchers and listeners associated with North Korean counterintelligence all worked. He knew that here in the Yanggakdo International Hotel, every last thing he did and said would be recorded and videoed. Yao wasn’t terribly concerned by this. He’d lived in China, after all, so he was accustomed to draconian intelligence measures.
But when it came to paranoid security protocols, the DPRK was starting to make the Chinese look like rank amateurs.
45
Things were going according to plan for Veronika Martel. Her goal of getting close to Jack Ryan, Jr., was moving along even quicker and more easily than she’d anticipated, and she caught herself already thinking about her life back in Paris once she returned to French intelligence with him as a recruited asset.
He had come into her department just after nine this morning and spent most of an hour making notes about the equipment and the processes. Then he returned to her temporary office and talked to her a little more about solvent extraction. He’d thanked her for her time and exchanged business cards, and then, after allowing herself a reasonable time so as not to show a level of interest that had the tendency to drive confident men away, she’d brought up the evening soiree that her colleagues were putting on and, in as offhand a way as possible, she suggested Ryan might drop by. Ryan took the bait easily, and said he would love to attend. Luckily for Veronika, the woman in QC in charge of arranging the after-work event had yet to settle on a meeting place, so Veronika had gotten Ryan’s mobile number, with plans to text him when all was decided upon.
He’d gone back to his office for a few hours, but at the end of the day she told him everyone was getting together at eight o’clock in the trendy V Bar in the Venetian hotel.
Veronika had not doubted for a minute that he would show up. He entered the bar at eight-fifteen, looking admittedly handsome in a lightweight tan sport coat and jeans, and although he’d sat farther away than the ever-present and always annoying Ralph Baggett, Ryan had soon slipped down a few seats to position himself directly across from her.
Baggett, as he had been for the past two weeks, was doing his best to monopolize Martel’s time, but the French spy handled him deftly. She included Ryan in her conversations and did it in a way that she was certain felt natural to both Baggett and Ryan.
—
Things were going according to plan for Jack Ryan, Jr. His goal of getting close to Élise Legrand was progressing even quicker and more easily than he’d anticipated. He’d entered her department this morning, spent just the right amount of time with her to show casual interest, and garnered himself an invitation to her going-away party that evening.
As soon as he learned he’d see her again he relaxed, because he knew his objective would be easier to fulfill in a crowd than alone in her office. It was crucial that he get his hands on her phone, since Gavin Biery had decided it to be the most likely device she would employ to remove anything from the NewCorp servers. Jack had been trained in pickpocketing and other sleight-of-hand techniques, so he liked his chances if he could get close enough to the woman in a social environment where others were around.
He and the rest of the team had spent the early evening working out a plan to take a peek at her digital data. Ryan had the phone Gavin had sent him from Alexandria, and to extract the data from her phone and put it on Gavin’s he needed to have her device in his possession for only two to three minutes. He was certain he could do this at some point during the party, but the guys also bandied around other possibilities. Could he actually social-engineer more information out of her? Details on where she was going next, information about her client’s identity—the benefactor paying millions of dollars to the North Koreans? The Campus operatives knew there was likely as much or more crucial data in the head of Élise Legrande as there was on her phone, and the question remained how they could get that data out.
Clark was against Ryan pursuing some sort of physical relationship with the woman. Even when Jack suggested he ask her for an innocuous drink after the party so he could dig a little deeper into her psyche to see if there was an opening there, Clark was less than enthusiastic.
“One question for you, Ryan.”
“Shoot.”
“What happened to the last son of a bitch we watched having a drink with that woman? Have you forgotten about Vietnam?”
Dom had been sitting quietly, listening to the conversation, but he said, “Ouch.”
Ryan shook his head. “I’ve got you guys watching my back.”
“We were watching Hazelton’s back, too,” Clark growled. “Damn lot of good that did him.”
This sank in for a moment. Ultimately, however, a compromise was made in the form of another device Biery had FedExed over from Alexandria. It was a tiny clear earpiece with a half-inch-long dangling battery pack; it looked just like a small hearing aid, but it could attach via Bluetooth like a regular earpiece headset and transmit as well as receive. Unlike the other units the men wore, this one had an external microphone that picked up sounds around the person wearing it. Ryan tested it out, his hair just long enough to cover most of it in his ear, and with it in place the rest of the team could hear him and the conversations of those around him. And more important to Clark, Ryan would be able to hear transmissions and take direction.
Clark gave Ryan the green light to go to the party and do his best to access the Frenchwoman’s phone, and he gave him the yellow light to proceed carefully after that to garner more intel if feasible. That said, Clark was going to be listening in on the entire evening, and he even went along to the Venetian hotel and found a bench in the lobby’s shopping galleria, where he would be just a few seconds away if Ryan r
an into trouble. He made it very clear to Ryan he would not hesitate to give the younger man the hook and put the kibosh on the operation if he didn’t think things were working out.
—
The party, like most after-work company get-togethers, started with work-related chatter, but by the time the second round of drinks had been polished off, the participants loosened up. Except for Élise Legrande. Ryan noted her great skill in deflecting personal conversation, and the almost hawklike way she watched the other people at the table, usually silently. She eyed Ryan most of all, and this was not lost on him. He’d caught her eye a number of times, which wasn’t difficult as they were seated across from each other, but she held his gaze in a way that he found a little off-putting, her incredible beauty notwithstanding.
The table of twelve began thinning out after an hour, as most of the attendees had kids at home, early starts the next morning, or both. A core group of hard-chargers stayed around for a third drink, but by the time the fourth round was dropped by the cocktail waitress, only Ryan, Baggett, and the woman everyone knew as Élise from Quebec City remained.
Ryan had spent the last forty-five minutes waiting for his opportunity to act. He was ready to move around to Élise’s side of the table to make a play for her phone and he had a half-dozen ready-made excuses to make it happen, too, but first he needed to know the location of the device. Was it in a pocket, in her purse, in her hand? Even with his new sleight-of-hand skills, he couldn’t very well sit down next to her and frisk her from head to toe, and because he’d seen no hint of the device in the ninety minutes since he’d arrived, he’d bided his time, waiting for her to reveal it.
The fact he hadn’t seen it so far told him it was probably in her purse, so when she finally picked up her small silver clutch off the table and reached inside, he began moving into action. Just as he stood to head around the table to show Ralph and Élise something on his phone, he eyed her right hand. She held a phone in it and was checking it for text messages. But instantly Ryan realized the phone in her hand wasn’t the one he had seen her with all week at Valley Floor.
Damn it. She’d switched phones. He knew he needed to pull data off the device she’d had at the facility, because that would be the most likely to contain the intel he was looking for.
Where was that phone? In her room?
Jack had no idea where she was staying. She hadn’t offered the information and he’d not seen a natural opportunity to get it out of her. He felt certain she was somewhere on the Vegas Strip—all the other visitors to the NewCorp Valley Floor facility he’d run into had been—but without that knowledge he couldn’t very well send another Campus operative off on a sneak-and-peek.
Jack excused himself to go to the restroom. The team could hear his every word, so he began speaking as soon as he was out of earshot from the table. “Listen up, new sitrep. She’s got a different phone on her.”
“Damn,” Chavez said. “What the hell does that mean?”
Ryan said, “I think it means Gavin was right. The other phone was for the operation. She got what she needed, so she’s left that phone in her room. Or, hell, I don’t know, it could be in her purse.”
Dom said, “You’ve got to check her purse.”
Ryan fired back, “And you’ve got to check her room.”
“Where is she staying?”
“Unknown.”
“Cuz, this is Vegas. There are one hundred twenty-five thousand hotel rooms in this town. You want I should start kicking in doors?”
Ryan grumbled a few cusswords of frustration, then said, “Okay, I’ll find out for you, while I’m digging through her purse. You just sit there and take it easy in the meantime.”
Clark’s admonishing low grumble came over the net. “Gentlemen.”
Ding chimed in now: “Ryan, it’s okay. Check her purse, and if it’s not there, tip us off by asking her about where she’s staying. I’m online now, and Gavin’s IT hacks have given me visibility into all the hotel records in town. You find out the name of the hotel and I’ll get her room number. We’ll send Dominic to break in while you watch the girl.”
Ryan agreed, although Ding made it sound easier than he imagined it would prove to be. “I’ve got to get back. Baggett might try to kidnap her.”
Ding replied, “That French spook would rip his balls off.”
—
Ryan returned to find Baggett gone, and Élise Legrande alone at the large table, checking her phone and clutching her purse in her lap.
Jack sat back down. “What happened to Ralph?”
“He had to leave. He asked me to wish you a good evening.”
Ryan did his best to hide his pleasure, but Clark’s voice entered his right ear and cooled his excitement. “This is too easy. Keep your eyes open, kid, something’s fishy.”
Clark was insinuating the Sharps intelligence officer might herself be operating against Ryan, but Ryan scoffed at this. He thought she was just interested in him and acting out of attraction. That she’d managed to clear Ralph Baggett’s playing piece off the board was good news for Ryan and his mission, not evidence that the woman had any objective beyond spending some time alone with him.
He watched her put her phone back in her purse, and while she did so he got a fair look inside. There was no other phone.
Ryan now knew he needed to find out the name of her hotel. He didn’t have time to go slowly with this, so he started immediately. “What do you think of the Venetian?”
He was hoping she would say something about the rooms—an indication this was her hotel.
But she just looked around her. “It’s nothing like Venice.”
“Not really, no. Still, it’s pretty nice.” Jack went for broke. “Where are you staying?”
She blinked once. Perhaps a little surprised at the question.
But she answered. “Next door, at the Palazzo.”
“Really?” Jack said. “That’s funny. So am I.”
The Frenchwoman’s eyes narrowed. Ryan could see she didn’t believe him, and instantly he worried he’d screwed up. He wanted an excuse to stay with her a little longer so he could watch her while Dom worked, and if he claimed he was at the same hotel then they could possibly walk back together. Clark had warned Ryan she would have a good BS detector, but he’d pressed his luck anyway.
In his earpiece he heard Ding’s voice, rushed. “I’m getting you a room there now.”
“What room?” Legrande asked, clearly challenging his story.
Ryan raised his eyebrows. “I’m sorry?”
“What is your room number at the Palazzo?”
Damn. He couldn’t just pull a room number out of the air. She might continue challenging him, check for herself, and he’d be caught in a lie.
Ding heard the question. “Gonna take a couple of minutes, Ryan! Stall her.”
Jack smiled. “That’s a bit forward, isn’t it?”
“I am not saying it to be forward. I am saying it because I do not believe you are telling the truth. I don’t really know what you are doing, but I think you just lied to me for some reason.”
Jack just said, “You have trust issues.” He felt like a heel, but he was committed to this now, and he couldn’t back away.
“I have trust issues because I have been around people who do not tell the truth. Like now, for instance.” Ryan could tell she was fully on guard. She prodded him for a minute, asked him where he was really staying, but he stuck with his story.
Finally, Élise said, “Last chance to be honest, Jack. Where are you staying?”
Jack smiled. “Let’s go. I’ll show you my room.” He held his breath.
“You’re bluffing,” she said, a coquettish smile on her face. She truly didn’t believe him, and she looked like she would relish putting him in his place. Jack felt sure she thought this was all just a ploy to get her
dress off.
He was bluffing, he didn’t have a room key. But Ryan couldn’t imagine the poised and refined woman in front of him taking him up on the offer. Even if she didn’t believe him. As bluffs went, he felt pretty good about this one.
He said, “I think you are the one who is bluffing. You won’t go.”
She did not reply to this. Instead, she said, “I Googled you today.”
“Really? Did you enjoy the pictures of a fourteen-year-old me with goofy hair and braces?”
Without smiling she said, “Very much so. Of course, I established you do work for Hendley Associates.”
“You didn’t believe that, either?”
She didn’t answer. Instead, she said, “There is really nothing bad about you online, but I am surprised how little news there is about you since you got out of college. It’s as if you went into the shadows after that.”
Now Ryan was beginning to get nervous. She was a spook, and spooks got suspicious easily. But he was surprised at the level on which she was challenging him. He wondered if she knew more about him than she was letting on, and if that had her concerned her intelligence operation had been compromised.
Jack just replied, “There’s not much news about me online for one simple reason. I am a bore. It works to my advantage. People get bored by bores.”
“You are asking a woman you do not know to come to a hotel room you do not have. That is strange, but I would not say it is boring.”
Ryan said, “You still don’t believe me?”
“Not for an instant. You need an excuse to follow me back to my hotel, so you claim it to be your hotel. You thought I wouldn’t question this. Perhaps you thought we’d sit and have another drink together in the bar there, before I took you up to my bed.”
“Presumptuous.”
“Experienced.”
Finally Ding came over Jack’s earpiece. “Room thirty-nine-oh-eight. Junior suite. Clark’s on his way to get your key at the front desk, and if you can stall her for twenty minutes Dom will have your shit moved from over here at the Mandarin into your room.”