“The equipment is already on board?”
“It is.”
“We’ll stage off the yacht, but the plan is we conduct a series of infils to shut down the Port every time they get it running again.”
“Why are we doing that?”
“Our new reason for existence is to become a hindrance to China’s Belt and Road Initiative or Silk Road or whatever they call their imperialistic plan to conquer the world. We are going to level the playing field by targeting the gains the Chinese are making illegally.”
“How was the Mombasa Port gained illegally?”
“The Mombasa Port was a debt trap; they sucked the Kenyans into over-borrowing with the intent of gaining a deep-water naval port in East Africa when the Kenyans defaulted, which they did. Our goal now is to make the acquisition costlier than the Chinese expected.”
“How do we do that?”
“By doing what we do best, and that’s to blow shit up.”
“That I understand,” replied Savage and Migos simultaneously.
“We’re going to blow up the Mombasa Port?” asked McDonald.
“Nothing dramatic. We’re not going to destroy the whole thing, just disrupt operations every now and again to make the operation a big money loser for the Chinese.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes, you have to understand, the Chinese have a whole bunch of dirty operations we’re going to throw sand in the gears on. We hit the Mombasa Port a couple of times and before long, they’ll have to station a thousand soldiers to guard it. We do that everywhere, and eventually, it becomes too costly for the Chi-Coms to maintain the empire.”
“Is it just us conducting these operations?”
“I have no idea; I know better than to ask. You should all know that if you ever let on what we’re doing to someone other than us, it would be a very serious problem for all of us.”
“What else?” Migos asked.
“The Chinese sell billions in consumer products to an organized crime Triad that operates under government protection in China. The Triad then ships the items to Greece, where they bribe and intimidate the Greek government officials in order to register the product values at a tiny fraction of the real value. By doing that, they dodge hundreds of millions of Euros each year in tariffs. From Greece, they transport the goods within the EU and sell the products easily, because nobody who pays the full tariffs can compete against them on price. The Chinese Triad in Greece is going to be our next target.”
“How many targets do you have?”
“Five to start with, but the list is very long.”
“You have a lot of anger toward the Chinese at the moment; maybe you should see someone.”
“I think my emotional state is the reason we drew this operation; the Agency wants me to channel my hostility in a constructive manner.”
Chapter 21
Beijing, China
Huang had been sitting patiently in the waiting room of the Minister of State Security for two hours. He stood and signaled to the secretary that he was going to the men’s room. Once inside, he lit a cigarette and stared at his reflection in the mirror. His suit hung off his body and the collar of his shirt was a full inch too large for his neck. His crew cut was peppered with grey. He exhaled a long plume of smoke at the mirror and watched as his face came into focus. His nose was flat; the bones had been crushed so severely it now looked like a lump of clay. The Americans had repaired his jaw and while it retained most of its former square shape, it now remained slightly ajar and hurt when he ate. He finished his cigarette and returned to reception to await his fate.
It was after five when the Minister finally called him in. Huang entered the office and stood in front of the Minister’s desk. The Minister invited him to sit with a hand gesture.
Soundlessly, a servant entered the office and placed a cup of tea on the desk in front of Huang.
“How are you feeling?” the Minister inquired in a soft tone.
“I feel good. I’m ready to get back to work.”
“I apologize for the lengthy interrogation on your return to China. I’m sure you understand its protocol.”
“Yes, Minister, I understand completely.”
“How did the Americans treat you?”
“They provided medical attention and fixed my wounds. I was shot, badly beaten, and unconscious when I was taken. They withheld pain killers and interrogated me with chemicals for days. I don’t know what information I gave them, but I fear it was a lot.”
“We recalled every asset you had in the US as soon as we suspected you were captured. We knew what to expect. The damage was minimized.”
“I failed, Minister. I hope you will accept my apology.”
“You didn’t fail, Huang. You discovered the PLA was concealing the true cause of the tsunami from the President. You tracked down the people who created the tsunami and identified the government and agency they worked for. You discovered a Chinese Intelligence defector the PLA was hiding. You found and killed the traitor. You didn’t accomplish everything I sent you to do, but you didn’t fail. On the contrary, you brought great credit to the MSS.”
“I serve at your will, Sir,” Huang said while bowing his head.
“Yes, you do, and that service is not yet finished. I went through a lot of trouble to get you back. After you were taken, I had more than a dozen Americans arrested, including the daughter of a Silicon Valley billionaire on drug charges in Hong Kong. The Americans were more than happy to trade for your release.”
“I’m ready, sir; what is my next assignment?”
“The Americans have begun to sabotage the Roads and Belts Initiatives. The deep-water port we acquired in Mombasa, Kenya, has been attacked twice in the last three months. The port is losing money and barely usable. In the first attack, all of the heavy cranes used to load ships were destroyed with explosives. In the second attack, all of the customs warehouses were burned to the ground. Many of our commercial goods shipments to the European Union through Greece have been disrupted. We are experiencing similar problems in Pakistan and Sri Lanka.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“I created a Task Force to deal with the problem. Brigadier Cheng, the Commander of the Task Force, is not making sufficient progress. He lacks your analytical skills and natural skepticism. He doesn’t believe there is a connection. Instead, he attributes the problems we are having to isolated local rebel groups hostile to a Chinese presence; I disagree. I have relieved Cheng of Command; you are now in charge of the Task Force. Study these attacks, find out who is behind them, and put a stop to them.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’re dismissed.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Huang. The next time I see you make sure you’re wearing attire suitable to your position. I don’t expect a Brigadier General in The Ministry of State Security to look like a homeless peasant.”
“Yes, sir,” Huang replied, as he let his sudden promotion to brigadier sink in.
Chapter 22
Siargao, Philippines
I was sitting at the dark wooden bar watching an endless loop of surfing. Loose Keys Bar was packed and the crowd was festive despite it being only a little after eight on a Monday night in the middle of March. I was drinking a San Miguel listening to a Filipino band do a decent imitation of Hotel California. Loose Keys Moto Culture draws more than its share of hipsters from what is fast becoming the hottest surf spot on the planet.
I was surrounded by a mixture of local islanders, hardcore surfers, and college-aged backpackers. The music was good. The beer was cold. The atmosphere was what can best be described as South Pacific chill, and my mind was preoccupied with how I was going to kill a man in Athens. After a day on Cloud 9, the point break that put Siargao on the map, I found a message on my phone from David Forrest.
Clearwater, the joint venture between David and me, had been generating target lists for our ongoing operation against the Chinese. The latest ma
n to make that list was Andre Onassis, a member of the Greek Parliament who’d just received a very large deposit in his bank account from the Government of China. Andre had the influence to erase all of the work my team had been doing over the past couple of months to restore law and order to the tariff systems in Greece for Chinese goods. Mr. Onassis was obviously of the opinion that he was beyond our reach. Trident had killed the Chinese Triad leadership operating in Athens in some of the most spectacular and news-catching ways. After the example had been set with the Triad, we merely had to whisper what would happen to the various government functionaries if they continued to break the law and give the Chinese an unfair market advantage.
Onassis had been reached by someone outside of the Triad and now, according to David, he was going to put an even greater fear into the hearts and minds of the pliable civil servants he needed to certify bogus Chinese paperwork. I signaled for another beer as I considered why Mr. Onassis would do such a thing. The drummer launched into the drum intro of “Two Princes” by the Spin Doctors which distracted me a bit as I began to mentally list the biggest hits that began with drum intros. Two of the guys I surfed with earlier in the afternoon came by and said “Hello.” They were Australian and both were good enough to be here in the fall when the international surf competition is held.
Onassis wouldn’t take the risk unless he was promised protection. Knowing the lethality and mendacity of the Triad, he had to know the threat he was signing up against was a serious one. Mr. Onassis either had a death wish, was being blackmailed, or had been promised protection by someone with serious power—or maybe it was a combination of factors. We would find out soon enough. David was working up a target package. Before the week was over, we would know everything there was to know about Onassis. David’s surveillance capability was so good that every electronic device Onassis carried would have been turned into a camera, microphone, and GPS locating device that would be broadcasting full time all there was to know about our next victim. Whoever was protecting him had better be good. I bought a bucket of beers for my surf buddies who were taking a table on the far side of the room. They waved for me to join them, but I signaled my thanks and stayed where I was. By ten, they were joined by two hipster girls and began to rotate onto the increasingly crowded dance floor. I got up off my stool and walked out into the humid night. The town of Grand Luna was dark, surrounded by ocean on one side and the jungle on the other three sides. I walked away from the sound of the surf and music and headed deeper into the town. A hundred yards in, I found a path that was lined with small trees. As I wove through the trees, I could hear the noise of a crowd. I walked into an opening and found the building. Kermit’s Restaurant and Surf Resort, the sign said. I sat down at my usual table and when Beth, the waitress, came over, I asked for the Scaloppine al Marsala and sautéed vegetables. I told her to surprise me with the wine; Kermit’s has a surprisingly good wine cellar for a surfing resort on a remote Philippine island. I like to arrive late because the restaurant doesn’t accept reservations and the waiting line can sometimes exceed an hour. The food in Kermit’s is outstanding—my chicken was perfect and the Chianti sublime. I paid the bill as they were closing at eleven and headed back toward the sound of the surf.
I considered calling it a night and returning to my room on the beach but decided on a nightcap at Rhum bar. I walked the four hundred yards west along the beach road away from the town. The road is pitch black with no traffic. I can hear the Reggae music and the crowd as I approach. It’s an open bar filled with partiers. As I enter, Jessa, a pretty Filipina waitress, magically finds a stool from somewhere and makes a space for me at the bar. Without asking, Jessa places a frosty San Miguel Pale Ale on the counter in front of me. As I sit down, I decide the best way to deal with Mr. Onassis was to take him out the next time he was going to vote at Parliament. He couldn’t take his Chinese protection with him into the Hellenic Parliament Building. It would make it easy to find him and it would send the message loud and clear that if you take bribes from the Chinese there was no place safe to hide. I spin my stool around and face the beach crowd on the dance floor. It’s a crazy group of revelers; the band plays an eclectic mix of reggae, pop, and rock to a convulsing throng of vacationers, locals, and surfers every night until dawn.
After a few beers, I walk back toward the town. I’m staying at a beach hut at a place called the Isla Cabana in town. It’s a basic room; I step over my surfboard on the way to the bed. I’m asleep as soon as I hit the bed. The next morning, the first thing I do is call David and task him with the information I need to get access to Onassis. I walked to the Deli Street Café and had breakfast. It’s a cool bohemian-themed place that has an amazing breakfast and the best coffee in Siargao. After breakfast, I mount the surfboard on the side of my scooter and head out to Pacifica on the northern tip of the island in search of double overhead left-handed barrels. I didn’t check the surf report because I know that as long as there isn’t an inland wind, the conditions would be good.
I rode my scooter with surfboard mounted on the right side down a narrow dirt jungle road for forty-five minutes. I was wearing shorts, sandals, and sunglasses. When I reached the beach, I was the only person there. The break was out beyond the reef and it looked small from the distance, but I knew it wouldn’t be.
I paddled my board for a thousand yards out to the break and then another two hundred yards through it. The waves were twelve feet high and it took a real effort to get past the surf. From Siargao, the Pacific Ocean extends without the interference of any major land masses all the way to California. The prevailing westerly winds create swells that travel for thousands of miles across the ocean, past the hidden depths of the Philippine Trench before breaking against the gently sloped sands of Siargao. Sitting on my board, beyond the break, I was all alone and I felt a million miles from the rest of the world.
I spied a set of rollers that I liked and oriented my board toward the beach. I let the first one pass and used the knowledge gained from watching it break to better position myself. When the second one came, I paddled hard and thrust myself toward the beach as I felt the power of the wave under me. I popped up onto the board in a crouch as it plunged down into the barrel. I carved a left turn and stayed inside the barrel of the tube facing away from the wave. The view of the beach was blocked by the waters cascading over me, creating a green prism to the outside world. Gradually, the tube closed around me, and I was engulfed by the warm frothy waters. I cut rapidly back to the ocean on my board and sailed into the sky as my board fell away from under my feet.
I repeated the same process for the next three hours. I was hungry and thirsty when I finally made my way back to the beach. I loaded up my board and headed back on my scooter. Less than a mile down the beach road on the way to Grand Luna, I stopped at the Bollox Bar for lunch. I sat outside on a plastic patio chair and ordered a cheeseburger, large bottle of water, and a beer. Under the shade of an umbrella on the beach, I downed the water in seconds and ordered a second one. Bollox Bar is a blue cinderblock building on the edge of a deserted beach that is the epitome of the island getaway. It’s owned by a Brit who escaped western civilization decades earlier. It’s off the beaten path on an island that is already the very definition of off the beaten path. After a day in the waves, Bollox Bar is the ideal place to eat lunch, drink beer, and even take a nap.
It was almost five by the time I got back to my room in Grand Luna. When I checked my phone, I had a bunch of missed calls. I called David first, then I returned the call from Mike.
“Don’t you carry your phone anymore?”
“I was surfing; phones don’t work well under water.”
“My people have been talking to Dave Forrest. He’s making strange information requests. What are you planning?”
“I haven’t decided anything. You’re going to have to trust me on this.” If I told Mike I was going to kill a member of Parliament— of a NATO partner no less— he would have to get it approved all the w
ay up to the President. There was absolutely no chance anyone in Washington, DC, would ever entertain the killing of a Greek politician, especially inside the Hellenic House of Parliament. Onassis was counting on that fact in the same way he was counting on the Greek law that prohibited members of Parliament from being charged with a crime. He was making a mistake.
The next flight out wasn’t until the morning, and so I decided to go to Loose Keys for a beer and repeat my evening routine. I dropped by the front desk and gave the hotel a small stack of pesos to hold my room for another month. After the job was finished, I planned to return and stay until the rainy season and then I would move on to somewhere else.
Chapter 23
Athens, Greece
I stepped off the ferry in Athens and signaled a taxi. I found a restaurant outside the Parliament building and ordered breakfast. I stroked my fake beard and looked out the window at the park. I finished my coffee and headed out to the Parliament building. I crossed the street and threaded my way through the protestors. It was cold and they were few in number and bundled up in heavy jackets. I couldn’t read the Greek protest signs, but I imagined they were about the country’s economic situation, which was a mess. I found the visitors’ entrance and joined the line.
The guard checked my passport and the second guard patted me down after I passed through the metal detector, even though it didn’t signal. I followed the rest of the visitors up the stairs and found a seat high up in the balcony viewing area. My seat was three stories above the assembled Parliament. I watched for two hours as the governing body deliberated, unable to understand a single word of the debate. There are three hundred members of Parliament and it looked like all of them were present and had something to say about everything. It took me twenty minutes before I spotted Andre Onassis seated in a front bench. I couldn’t figure out how the seating was arranged, whether it was by party or by position. I read that Onassis was a leader in the Communist party, which seemed about right for someone so greedy and corrupt.
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