by Tim Heath
It was, therefore, a total shock when standing there, by his expensive car, he looked across a busy road to see a Chinese man walking some distance on the other side. He’d seen this man before, and he froze. It wasn’t clear if the other man had seen him but he came to his senses, survival mode kicking in and he jumped back into his car. Seconds later he skidded away from the kerb. He didn’t see where the Chinese man was, but he was now sure he was following. The fast getaway must have given him away. Sergio sped through the roads, heading towards the coastal area in a southerly direction. Panic was consuming him, sweat now dripping from his forehead. He kept looking at the rearview mirror, straining to see if he’d lost the man he feared was coming to kill him. He’d not said anything, he’d kept quiet about it all, and yet his long-running fear had materialised. It was happening, and it was now.
Sergio was driving ever faster as if speed alone would be enough. Twisting along coastal roads, weaving in and out of traffic that was surprisingly light. One last look in his mirror and he missed the lorry pulling out in front of him. When he saw it, it was already too late to recover and, turning the steering wheel, it sent his speeding sports car clean off the road and over the cliff, plunging onto the rocks below. An explosion quickly followed. Cars stopped high above to look at what was happening; locals shocked at yet another traffic accident on their roads.
5
London, England
Elizabeth Mayfield had considered getting out of the game altogether but loved the danger of it all too much to pull herself away completely. She was also too valuable to the people she worked for to just walk away. Five years ago, looking at least ten years younger than the thirty-six she was, Elizabeth had come into a tremendous amount of money. More than she would ever need. It had been her escape money, the chance to start a new life. She’d never even tried. The money wasn’t going anywhere, and she would do something with it one day. The truth was, she’d travelled the world already in a previous job when she was still in her twenties. South America, Africa, India, Russia and China preceded a move to a role within Military Intelligence in the UK. She spoke twelve languages and was highly educated. A globetrotter from the beginning, her German father and Irish/American mother, had aided that greatly.
Even in her early forties, she graced any room she was in. Most people she now worked with were much older, and generally men. That only gave her greater currency when it came to favours and information––she never missed a trick.
It was her time posted in Beijing, where she had worked two years before moving to London, that'd had an enormous impact on her, a time that ultimately decided her future. She was now a double agent. Recruited back then into the Chinese Secret Service, she had risen to third in command––the most unlikely person of all and yet highly valuable to the People’s Republic. She’d been central to China learning about the theft of their blueprints and had been ideally placed to negotiate the return, becoming rich in the process. Because of what she brought to the table, she’d been part of the six-person team that was leading the investigation in a time of national crisis.
Five years later, she’d hidden her wealth in many banks around the world and was as valuable to China as ever. The British, too, saw her as a great asset and in her role, she needed to feed the right type of information to keep her British employers happy. But she knew where her ultimate loyalties lay.
“Ms Mayfield, a pleasure to see you again,” her lunchtime companion said, kissing her gently on the cheek as they were shown to their table. “I’m sorry for the late notice. I know this place is a little pricey, but it’s convenient,” he said before adding, “It's my shout, anyway, so enjoy.”
She smiled. Altogether she was worth somewhere north of five hundred million pounds.
“I’m always happy to meet with our neighbours from Five,” she said. “Still keeping the country safe, are we?” It was her usual joke, this being the fourth time they’d met that year.
They ordered from the menu and waited for the drinks to be placed on the table. Small talk flowed a little. Elizabeth had thirty minutes before she needed to leave. She hadn’t mentioned anything about that yet. She would see how it played out. He had always been useful for locally based information, MI5 with the task of protecting the nation while her team at MI6 were involved mainly internationally, though there was ever a crossover as they tried to stop the danger coming to the UK in the first place.
“I hear one of your lot has flown to China,” he said, Elizabeth lowering her glass a little, eyes studying her companion, before ever so gently prodding that last statement.
“Really? Anything interesting?”
“You tell me. I think they are trying to crack some spying ring. It goes back to the London attacks. The word is, there might be an enforcer behind a lot of the hits that happened at the time. Someone from Six has gone there in search of information. I'm surprised you don't know.”
“Have they indeed? No, I hadn’t heard about that. Mind you, can’t know everything. So, what do Five have on this ring? Is it UK based?”
“Yes, I know the PM was informed yesterday. Wants us to root it out. I’m sure you'll be tasked with something at Six before too long. Anything locally based is sure to have a connection back to China, if not through other places first.”
“Yes, thanks. We’ll see.” She needed to go, but with what was just said, she would have to add another ten minutes, change the subject, move on from there, before making her excuses.
Thirty minutes later she was in her car again, travelling north. Her pay-as-you-go mobile phone rang, and it was a spare one that she never used. She pulled over.
“Tiger Cub, this is Lions’ Town,” was the opening phrase. Her Chinese call sign was Tiger Cub. It was a call from Beijing. They didn’t do this.
“I’m listening,” is all she said. Use as few words as possible until she understood the situation. It would limit any potential risk if this turned out to be a trap. It was so unusual for them to call directly; it was always safest through the network, a line of communication that passed on messages, whispers really. Chinese-whispers for her expert ears.
“We have a visitor from your end asking things that he shouldn’t know about. Seems to know about our Shadow.”
“That’s impossible,” she said, but she couldn’t question what she was being told, especially in the light of what she’d heard over lunch. “I heard talk of something similar recently. It might be the birds have to fly the nest.”
In other words––get our spies out of the country, the British are onto us.
“And Tiger Cub?”
“I’ll take my chances.”
“Be safe. We can’t afford to lose you.”
The phone line went dead. Elizabeth pulled the battery out and threw it out of the window, pulling the car away, driving one hundred metres down the road before throwing the sim card also out of the window, followed by the actual handset not long after. Now she would have to get another emergency backup line. Either that or just lie low and watch the storm pass before making further contact.
It had not been a good week so far for the UK. MI6 were once again meeting with senior government officials.
“It’s confirmed,” came the news via telephone into the meeting that had been dragging on but was awoken from its slumber by the interruption of a call. “All seven killed in the detention facility where they were held. One Chinese man detained, but he is not the man we are after. He was just some kind of decoy.”
The phone was put down, and the news relayed to the room.
“Jesus,” was all one man said, the rest quiet, processing the news.
“He’s making us look like a laughing stock, not to mention the Americans, of course.”
“Get the Pentagon on the line,” the Prime Minister said. He was not happy. “It’s meant to be their most secure location on the planet and yet one man, it seems, can get to these seven prisoners and kill them, making a clean getaway before anyone notices. I jus
t don’t get it. How?”
“Sir, we’ll get you the full report, and when we’ve read that, we’ll have a better understanding of how to answer that. For now, we need to consider our position. These seven have been held in Guantanamo for five years. They’ve never said a word about who put them up to it. Though we suspect it was Nigeria and South Africa, we’ve never had the confirmation. Neither nation has ever claimed these people, for obvious reasons. So for all this time, they have just been sitting there. Then, a week ago, we start asking questions about this Chinese agent working behind the scenes, and the same week he apparently comes for them and silences them before they can say anything. Now, tell me, gentlemen, unless we have more leaks than my great aunts watering can, how in the world did this get out?” The MI6 agent was fuming, throwing a security report he had been working through, before the interruption, onto the table. A teaspoon fell out of the sugar bowl, granules covering the whole area.
“Adam,” the Prime Minister said. “I want the names of everyone that knew we were asking the Americans to press those seven agents for information on this enforcer. Include in that everyone who has clearance level access to be able to read the reports if they so wished. It needs to include everyone. No one gets special treatment. Include the three of us on that list, too. Then we’ll hand it to MI5. Someone on the list is the mole. We need this all shut down, like yesterday. The Chinese have got away with this for too long. And for god’s sake, would someone bring me some good news on this Chinese enforcer. Get our best people on him. He needs to be stopped.”
“We are working at that, sir.”
“Well, work harder,” the PM snapped back, before calming down and leaving the room.
China
Following the call to their agent in the British Security Service, in Beijing, they were stepping up the search for the known MI6 agent working in mainland China. An agent was asking things that he shouldn’t be asking. His presence had of course already flushed out three traitors. Their disappearances would no doubt soon be noticed, if not already. That risked the agent going to ground, not that this would save him, just buy him a little more time, maybe. China was not a nation with which to mess. They were now ready to give this message to the world. Everyone had to listen to them now. An economic giant, with military force unequalled. More spies than most of the world had combined. And an enforcer as deadly and lethal as ever produced. A man bred for vengeance, bred for the mission, bred to kill. A man devoted to the art, driven by ideas beyond money and power. A man who was incorruptible, their man––their Shadow Man.
Their Tiger Cub had confirmed the British were starting to come for them. They’d be ready. Five years ago they had been in the background, protecting their interests, which happened to be at that time also the interests of the UK. Now they were on the field of play once more, but on opposite sides of that field. Facing each other, the darkness and distance gone, knowledge was now power. And they were ready. The General of the Chinese Secret Service had already filed a report calling for the tactical withdrawal of all spies from the United Kingdom. Those deemed most at risk of exposure would be extracted on the next available flight. They weren’t going to give the British dozens of people to interrogate. The Shadow Man couldn’t save them all, even for a man of his quality. But the General wasn’t prepared to risk his third in command, a woman so well inserted that she’d been the source of priceless information for years, not just British secrets, but due to her unique role within the Security Service, information from America and Europe, too. If the net was closing in, he’d insist she disappear. They’d come to find her later. The General knew she had the resources, not to mention the skills, to get away. He also knew her love for danger. She’d only leave at the last possible moment. Maybe it would be too late for her. He’d have to send in someone to rescue her, she was too important to be left for questioning.
The General pushed those thoughts, those growing concerns, away for a moment. Troubling him now was the knowledge that an MI6 agent was in his city.
“Men, gather together,” he ordered. Ten men from his elite unit moved as if one and joined him, forming a perfect semi-circle. “We are going on a manhunt. Grab what you need, we leave in ten minutes.”
There was a frenzy of activity as the men made their way out, preparations underway.
Elsewhere in the density that is Beijing, a city of twenty-two million people and growing fast, Steve Chambers was sensing the net was closing. None of the three army personnel he’d met with was now answering their phone. Steve had tracked down where one was meant to be living, but he hadn’t been seen around there for two days. Steve knew he needed to drop out of sight for fear of being tracked down. He had travelled on an American passport, a legitimate one at that, through his mother’s side, his cover being a trade fair taking place in the city’s Chaoyang District. Steve knew he needed to call in for information. Taking the chance that he had a little time, he returned to his hotel, checking if anyone had been asking for him. Coast clear, he entered his room, again cautious. No one had been in his room while he was away, that was for sure, and offered some relief. There were more exposed places to be in, but China at the moment, even given the population density of a city like Beijing, was high on the list. He just stuck out more than most, though not because of how he dressed. Basic service training covered the fundamentals of dressing to fit in, not drawing attention to yourself, blending in with the crowd. The issue in China was that while there were foreigners, at least a couple of hundred thousand South Koreans in the city for starters, as a tall white man, he was always at a disadvantage.
Opening up his computer, he switched on his encryption program and made contact with his handling agent.
‘Beth, going to ground, suspect they are onto me,’ he typed in and sat back, wondering what more to ask. He was going to shut down when he saw a response being typed. Getting such a fast reply was unusual.
‘Where are you?’
‘I’m at the hotel––all three assets now silent. I think I need extraction. Need to leave hotel shortly. Will contact you in a few days.’ He shut the machine down. Time was important, getting out of there, hitting the streets and the crowds, getting lost now his highest priority. At least she knew. At least MI6 were aware of his situation. They’d no doubt create an opening to help him get out. He would rely on instincts, for now, trust no one. That was the motto. Never was it to become truer than in the next forty-eight hours, by which time it’d be too late.
The General and his men had put contacts at every airport. Extra police were being pulled in to help staff the search. Agents entered undercover to the three international events happening at that time, including the trade fair to which Steve had been registered. Delegates’ details were obtained. Hotels were visited. All behind the scenes, all with Red Army contacts. Nothing public. China couldn’t be seen by the world to be using strong-arm tactics. They were the open, industrious nation. And yet someone was in their country, this land, looking to do them harm. That was an insult and something they would not allow to happen, something this agent would not be permitted with which to get away. They had to find him.
It was later that day, their searches finding nothing so far, that confirmation came through the usual, more roundabout, channel. Their Tiger Cub was in contact with the agent and they were to hold their position and await further instructions. The General smiled. Once more, she’d proved her ability. Once more she was on the inside, leading them, no, guiding them to exactly where they needed to be. Now it was just the waiting game. Waiting for the next communication, waiting to be led directly to their man.
6
London, England
The Prime Minister, Home and Foreign Secretaries were once again meeting with Military Intelligence. It was becoming an all too familiar pattern. They were looking over data from the airports. There had been a noticeable rise in Chinese people leaving the country. The figure was twelve per cent higher than in the previous week.
; “Talk me through these numbers once more,” Alan said, the least educated but ironically highest ranked person in the room.
“Of course, sir. These figures show, on any given day over the last year, the natural, normal passage of people flying into and out of the UK,” he said, waving his hands as he spoke over the reams of paper splashed across the table they were all sharing. “In the last two days, the number of Chinese nationals leaving on flights from the UK has jumped by twelve per cent. This is an average. All major airports have seen a rise––Manchester, Birmingham, Liverpool plus the five London regional ones. A twelve per cent rise is noticeable because it does not correspond to a rise in inbound traffic from the days or weeks before. Had there been such, the spike leaving would just be those returning home after their week in the UK. Suddenly we have many Chinese people deciding, all over these last two days, to fly back to China.”
“They are withdrawing their spies?” Alan said.
“One day after you give orders to break the network and there is a twelve per cent jump in Chinese air travel. I think it’s too much of a coincidence to be anything but.”
“How did they know?”
“They’ve got someone senior enough to have warned them,” Hugh said, almost too scared to confirm what they all knew. Alan Wells, British Prime Minister, could vouch for his two colleagues. They’d been nobodies before he’d won the landslide election after which he’d pulled them into his newly formed government. They were also too new on the block. They didn’t know enough to have been a mole. Alan wasn’t at all sure of the others in the room, the MI5 personnel that he was only just getting to know. It was the head of MI5 that spoke next.