“We were to have a briefing before our meeting, and it’s not like her to miss that. Has her detail checked in?”
“I’ll give them a call. Probably caught up in traffic. It was bad out there this morning.”
Lopez thanked her and walked to the conference room where George Steinway and Dianne Reynolds waited.
“Thank you for coming,” Lopez said. “Bernadette should be here momentarily, so let’s get started.” He checked his watch. “In about fifteen minutes Ben will begin his meeting with Li Xue. I think we’re all pretty confident about how this will turn out, but I want to put some contingencies into place. Even if things go well today, there are no guarantees how the news is going to be received in Beijing, let alone the rest of the world.”
The door opened and the temp stepped in. “Excuse me, Mr. Director. Ms. Coleman’s detail is on the line for you.”
He nodded and picked up the phone. “Lopez.”
Steinway and Reynolds watched as the Director’s face froze. “I see,” he said. A shadow passed over his eyes then he said it again. Then, “I understand. All available personnel on this, got it? When you’re certain, call the FBI in. Complete cooperation with them. Understand? Complete. We need this resolved immediately and by the book.”
Steinway stood as Lopez hung up the phone. “What happened, Hector?”
Lopez drew in a deep breath. “Bernadette is missing. It’s possible she’s been abducted.”
Steinway threw his pen down.
“What happened?” said Dianne.
Lopez shook his head. “They don’t know for sure. Her detail stopped to pick her up. She usually meets them, but she never came out. They went to the door, saw a broken cup on the floor, coffee all over, and still warm.
“So security went in and searched the house. Empty. Her purse and cell phone were on the kitchen table, along with a half-full coffee urn and a carton of half-and-half. Her briefcase was on the living room couch still locked and apparently hadn’t been tampered with.”
“So they weren’t after intel,” said Steinway.
“Other than that, it looked clean. They must’ve grabbed her between the time Ben left and her detail arrived. Narrow window of opportunity. Planned perfectly. Obviously, pros did this.”
“And if they weren’t after intel….” Dianne drifted off, not wanting to finish the thought.
“Yeah. That scares the hell out of me,” said Steinway.
“They must be trying to get to Ben,” said Dianne. “Unless they were after him and settled for Bernadette.”
“Perhaps,” Lopez said. “But I wouldn’t be so sure. She is a catch in her own right, especially since it is now widely known that she is helping out here. Between the two of them she has made far more enemies than he, particularly the kind prone to kidnapping.”
“Unless they’re deliberately holding Bernadette to spike the negotiations,” said Dianne. “That would make it a twofer.”
“But who?” said Steinway.
“Want a list?” said Lopez. Grabbing the phone, he punched in a number. “This is Lopez. I need Ben Coleman’s cell phone bricked, and I need it done yesterday.” He told them to get the number from his assistant and hung up.
“What are you doing?” Steinway said.
“Making sure they can’t get through to Ben the most obvious way.”
“He needs to know,” said Dianne.
“Not from whoever this might be. And not by phone or text.”
“He has a right to know.”
“But it might put him on tilt for the negotiations,” said Steinway.
“And then, it might not. He might use it as a card to play with Li. I am sure Li would be horrified.”
“Or not,” said Lopez. “Depending on how this came about.”
“Still,” said Dianne, “Ben should decide when and how to play the card.”
“When is a lack of information ever a good thing?” said Steinway, thinking like the investor he was.
“Or the meeting could simply blow up,” said Lopez. “This is why we compartmentalize intel, to minimize the chances of a black swan event.”
“He would want to know,” Dianne said. “Otherwise, when this is all over, he would have every right to be pissed about not being told. How would you feel if your spouse had been abducted and your closest colleagues, not to mention the United States government, hadn’t bothered to tell you? If you were Ben, you would never trust the rest of us again.”
“If the negotiations blow up, we are going to have much worse things to worry about,” said Steinway. “And those things will not simply blow over.”
“I think Ben will be angry but will get over it,” Lopez said, “providing we get Bernadette back.”
“But,” said Dianne, “if something were to happen to her….”
Lopez turned to Steinway. “George, you’re the one closest to Ben and you have institutional interest in being there. You need to go to New York and tell him. We will keep you in the loop and if something goes amiss, we can let you know and you can then pass it on. I’ll order a chopper to get you there asap. You can leave straight from here and land at the Thirtieth Street heliport. It’s a short ride to the Met club from there.”
“And when the meeting breaks, I give him the word privately?”
“That’s the idea.”
“The President needs to be in the loop on this,” Dianne said. “I’ll tell him.”
“Keep this mum, folks, including your top people,” Lopez said to them. “This is going to be a roller coaster.”
“Better a roller coaster than a global financial crisis,” said Steinway.
“Besides,” said Dianne, “we may have Bernadette back before then.”
“From your lips to God’s ears,” said Steinway.
* * *
Ben chose the Metropolitan Club as the place to meet with Li. New York was a short train ride from New Haven, so Li could be with his family before their guided—and supervised—tour of America.
And the club seemed like neutral ground. It could have been the Federal Reserve Bank building in lower Manhattan, but that might look too much like the loser coming to the home turf of the winner. Negotiating in America provided enough of that. And the Met Club would accommodate Chinese security needs regarding safety and the absence of electronic surveillance as well as the needs of the Secret Service. Moreover, as a private club, it could exclude the press from entering, though they would be staked outside the entrance on Sixtieth Street.
Ben also liked the historical ironies. This was J.P. Morgan’s Club. It wasn’t quite Jekyll Island, where Morgan invited the movers and shakers of the time to negotiate the outlines of the Federal Reserve, but it was close enough. Morgan had been the private equivalent of America’s central banker, even bailing out the U.S. government at one point. Morgan would definitely have approved of what Ben was about to do.
The club accommodated, with one of the function rooms on its second floor overlooking Fifth Avenue. It was sufficiently grand to suit the occasion and quite secure. As a member, Ben could rent the room at the concessionary member’s rate. The club itself would have been happy to let him have it for free given the publicity and prestige of what was happening, but government ethics rules required that Ben pay. This Ben didn’t mind. It was a way he could create the fiction that this was a private meeting, which put less of a burden on producing an outcome. It gave Li added face as well.
He felt good about the prospect of what would come from the meeting. Every preparation had been made. Everything was in order. As his wife had said, it was time to make some history.
* * *
Bernadette lay on the floor of a van trying to gather her wits. She was still smarting from having been tased. It had all happened so quickly. No, that’s an excuse, she told herself. The truth is, you’ve been out of fieldwork for too long and you’ve gotten sloppy, lazy, and weak.
She reminded herself this self-flagellation was no more useful than self-pity
. She had to focus and find a way out of her predicament.
She had been trying to keep track of the van’s movements, but it was no good. The driver seemed to be making random turns and changing speed solely to confuse her sense of location.
That’s a clue. He’s a professional and knows I am too.
Cars were whizzing past on the driver’s side and occasionally honking. He was driving slowly on a major thoroughfare, but which one? The Beltway? I-66? The Dulles toll road? Logic told her they were going to head west. Too much risk to head straight into D.C. Knowing where they were headed could be useful in the future, but now she had a more pressing issue.
The zip ties on her wrists were the first concern. Fortunately, she had gotten out of them during escape and evasion training and would get out of these as well. It was all a matter of timing. Well, timing and pain. The escape maneuver would hurt like hell.
She didn’t have her mobile phone, purse, or briefcase, all of which had things in them she could use with some improvisation to free herself.
No, professionals would leave all that behind as they might contain ways to track her whereabouts.
The van made a sudden right turn amidst widespread honking. Bernadette rolled to the left, but something long and soft kept her from hitting the side. She pushed herself against it to figure out what it might be and felt something slide under her. A familiar sensation, then horror as she understood the reason for the familiarity. Ben was a sprawler when he slept, and she would occasionally roll over in bed and on top of his arm.
Another person.
She nudged at the body with the heel of one foot to see if she could get a response. There was none. She tried again and again until her heart finally sank. Her companion was not unconscious. He or she was dead. It was likely the original driver of the van.
Before she could roll away the van slowed and then pulled to a stop. From the way the sound reverberated, they were inside another building. The two men in the front got out of the van, opened the back doors, and hauled her out.
“Any problems?” said a third voice. Bernadette strained her ears. There was something familiar in those few words.
“According to plan.”
“Then we’ll stick with it. Take care of the van and wait at the safe house. I’ll be in touch once I get the princess secured.”
A chill went down Bernadette’s spine. She didn’t recognize the voice, but the words had a familiar brogue that sent her racing back through the years to her time working at MI6 on various IRA spinoffs.
Then she picked up another clue. The voice with the brogue said, “The princess is secured.” This is a kidnapping, for whatever reason. And I’m being transferred up the kidnapper’s chain of command.
Her thoughts were interrupted when she was hoisted up and placed in a small, cramped area. There was a rush of air and a loud clang.
I’m in the trunk of a car. And rid of my travel companion. Good enough.
The van’s engine gurgled to life and departed. Then the car’s engine fired.
“Don’t worry, princess,” the brogue shouted from the front. “You’re in good hands now.” The speaker cackled and put the car in motion.
All right, girl. This is it. You’re the Red Ninja. Time to come up with a plan and see it through. You’ve been out of the field too long. It’s time to see if you can bring all those unused muscles back to life.
* * *
Ben Coleman met Li Xue in the grand hall on the first floor. Morgan had spared no expense in building it. The ceiling was the equivalent of three floors up. The walls were marble accented by gold leaf. The men ascended one side of the enormous staircases that flanked the east wall of the hall.
Li bowed slightly as he shook Ben’s hand. “So this is how robber barons lived?” he asked with a smile as they walked up the stairs. The hall had that effect on most visitors, and many of those with a sense of history had had that same, precise thought.
“You have studied the history of the place,” Ben said. “So you know my choice was not accidental or simply based on convenience.”
“No. Given Morgan’s historical role this really is the Central Banker’s Club. I think your selection was most appropriate.”
“I agree and am glad you feel that way.” Ben gestured for Li to enter the room he had reserved. There was a table in the middle with chairs on opposite sides. But Li moved to one of the large lounge chairs next to the fireplace in the room.
“Ben, I think this is a conversation and not a negotiation. And to be frank, it might actually be quite a short one.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
Li could hear the disappointment in his voice. “You mistake my meaning. It is not going to be short because we don’t have a lot to talk about. It is going to be short because I think we are already close to being in the same place. When you told me about your meeting with Secretary Steinway here before the presidential election, and then heard your suggestion that we meet here, I began to do some very careful research regarding your views. It didn’t take much to figure out where your mind is. You are going to make the same type of suggestion to me that you made to Steinway almost two years ago.”
“How do you know about my meeting with Steinway?” Much to his dismay, Ben was completely unable to hide his surprise.
“You are married to the Red Ninja. Do you think we do not have similarly talented people in our country? In many ways, my good friend Deng is very much like your wife. I regret that his nephew is not quite as talented. Far too rigid in his thinking.”
The Chairman of the Federal Reserve was rarely floored. But Li Xue was being extraordinarily candid, so much so that he had to confess to himself that the conversation was proceeding down a branch that was not on his decision tree.
He said to Li, “I have advanced your thoughts regarding Mr. Deng to the highest levels and have a preliminary approval. He will get a pardon from the President, conditioned on not ever returning to the United States. That pardon will not be signed until we have concluded our agreement. Since you will be here, he will be remanded to your custody for the trip home.
“I must tell you how important that condition is. The President almost choked on the thought of pardoning someone who violated the privacy of his wife and was spying on his country. It was also hard on me for much the same reasons. By the way, my wife was the one who persuaded the President to go ahead. I hope that will prove satisfactory.”
“I wouldn’t be here if it was not. General Deng told me that there would be conditions, but your signal that you would elevate the issue was, in his words, very transparent.
“Obviously you understand the power dynamics now occurring in Beijing, or at least a key part of them. It was Deng who suggested my making this a personal favor on behalf of a friend and not some formal part of the negotiations. He was trying to send a signal to your wife, Director Lopez, and possibly even your president about what was going on. He even complimented your wife’s expertise, saying she would be the one to deliver on his nephew’s release.”
“He did?” asked Ben.
“Oh, yes. The string of expletives he used to describe her was quite lengthy, as were the adjectives regarding what she and her father had done to China over the years. He concluded by saying, ‘Finally, there is something she does that will not be a pain in our backside.’ His choice of words in reference to that was somewhat more colorful.
“I must admit that I thought carefully about his motives in this. In my experience those in the intelligence business prefer deception to transparency. We central bankers tend to prefer transparency. It minimizes risk.
“This is a time to minimize risk if there ever was one, don’t you think? By making things so transparent the chances of either side making a mistake are reduced. It is very important that you and your side not make a mistake right now for it would have a very tragic outcome.”
“On that we certainly agree,” Ben said. “There is a path forward that would minimize
the risks to both sides. We need both the courage and the wisdom to take it.”
“Ah, wisdom,” said Li. “A very Chinese concept. Confucius. Sun Tzu. Courage is far more American. The history of China has always been cautious, aimed at protecting the established order, what we have. Think of the Great Wall. It was purely defensive. America, on the other hand, was born of change. Taking on the greatest empire in the west. Hardly defensive, and a real act of courage. So what we are seeking would appear to be a real paradox. Cautious, yet courageous. Wise, yet bold. Deeply steeped in historical experience, yet seemingly novel.”
“Xue, that was a very wise analysis. And your very act of being here was courageous.”
“Ben, I could say the same about you. Your decision to issue gold coins was very much the same. My choice of words was very deliberate. Cautious, courageous, wise, bold, deeply historical, and seemingly novel.
“So you can see the real reason why our conversation is likely to be short. You have already made the sale simply by putting the product you want to sell on the table.
“I read your speech on the flexible gold standard given almost a decade ago. It is too bad that the piece has not had better attention. It should have been in an academic journal, perhaps, but I suppose it could not be because it was too courageous and too novel. I believe the term you use in America is ‘not politically correct.’ We Chinese understand that perfectly well.
“For all their self-image of being open minded, academics tend to be quite closed to new ideas. And the use of gold is decidedly politically incorrect here in America in the academic community. I suppose it makes sense. After all, if you are an academic you almost certainly think that academics can manage monetary policy for the common good.
“They forget that all human beings have a preference for good news to happen sooner and bad news to happen later. It’s pretty basic, isn’t it? We central bankers call it the time preference for money. It is why we have an interest rate. People want money now, not later, and so you have to pay for the privilege. But if you can print it now, and have someone else pay for it later, that is all to the better.”
Currency War Page 37