by Tim Heath
“It’s confirmed, sir. Contact made with UK handler less than thirty minutes ago.”
“Thank you,” the head of MI6 said. It had been a troubling time for Adam. The obvious failing of the Security Service in the UK was difficult to accept, the infiltration of a network of Chinese spies a very bitter pill to swallow. Yet it seemed highly likely, the traffic of Chinese nationals suddenly leaving the country over the last week only confirming the suspicion. However, the masterminds of the whole organisation were believed to still be left behind, maybe even just one person, so senior and so well placed that their existence would not seem possible. He thought he could personally vouch for all of his senior team. Now he was not so sure. Men and women that he’d shared so much with, people he’d known for years. The thought that even one of them might be the double agent sent a shudder through his veins. It was surely too unthinkable and yet everything was now pointing to that very fact. Highlighting such a threat, such a traitor, without breaking trust with all the rest was a huge challenge. He didn’t like the position he was forced to be in at that moment.
“I’m pulling you both into an exclusive operation that you are only to discuss directly with me. Is that understood?” It was clear, there needed to be no misunderstanding.
“Yes, sir,” they both replied, their loyalty unquestioned, though it was true he could have said that about his inner circle, or so he had thought.
“Good. Listen; this is what I’m going to have to do. I believe it is possible, however unlikely, that someone within the central intelligence core, my very inner circle, is a double agent and is, in fact, working for the Chinese. This person has been so well placed that they have been leaking sensitive material right in front of our noses for many years. Far too long,” he said, before pausing. Both agents in front of him were unmoved, their facial expression giving nothing away. He picked up some sheets of paper in front of him. “These are to be handed, in person, by yourselves to each of the senior staff. Make sure no one else sees it.”
“Yes, sir,” once again came the instant response from both agents, taking the information from their boss.
Adam had prepared these himself. Each looked like a standard memo, something, in fact, he had sent out hundreds of times. Section heads would be used to receiving such reports. Each had the security level coding on it, noting this was only for viewing by those with the highest level of clearance. Adam was starting with his inner circle. From there he would work out, as needed until he had managed to uncover the traitor. Adam was dreading what might be discovered, like a farmer clearing grass to find a snake looking up at him, ready to bite, venom dripping from its poisonous mouth. The memo he’d handed these agents detailed the news that their operative in China had made contact, and there was the exact location of where he was expecting to be picked up. Only today, the memos had been altered. Adam himself had connected a single site to a single senior aide. Each note had a different place given as the pickup point. None of the five memos had the correct details. Depending on which location was searched by the Chinese, Adam would know from where the leak, if any, was coming. Unfortunately, the more he was being told, the more confident he was that there was a leak.
Booth and Riley left the meeting, memos in hand. Adam had taken a risk bringing them into this operation as he had, but he needed someone from the outside. Both agents were reasonably new to the team. Both were highly experienced in many roles, and they were fresh enough to MI6 not to be a risk. He’d had them checked out again recently, before bringing them into this delicate situation, to make double sure. Riley was married and had a daughter. She’d joined Scotland Yard after university and had moved to MI5 after that before joining Six four years ago, after the incident in London. She was a mother wanting to protect her family, realising to do that meant working for the Security Service that tackled the problem overseas, the nuclear attack in London from five years before being a perfect example. She dressed smartly, kept things neat and tidy. Agent Booth was a little more scruffy but appropriately. She’d been in MI6 for nearly ten years. Both had impeccable records. But wasn’t that true of everyone he was now investigating?
The situation in China had presented itself as an opportunity to expose the double agent. It was straight out of the textbook, but as long as information didn’t get out as to what he was doing, it should work. Alone again, Adam poured himself a drink from a glass bottle––a gift from someone, sometime ago. Whisky was his drink of choice. He took three sips, savouring the taste, before putting the glass back down on his oak desk, the remaining contents dancing around the bottom of the glass catching the light as it swirled. He picked up his desk phone and dialled a three-digit short-code.
“Get me Roy Cole at the CIA on a secure line,” Adam spoke, the line remaining silent for a few moments longer before the familiar sound of the operation taking place, and then the tone of the connecting call to Washington. Ten seconds later the chirpy voice of the CIA deputy general came through clearly.
“Adam, to what do I owe the pleasure?” he said. The two men spoke maybe once a month, sometimes less. They’d last talked a few days ago. It had to be something extraordinary.
“I need to bring you guys in on something. We need your help really flushing the system.”
He knew what Adam meant precisely.
“Christ, that bad? How high?”
“Don’t know.”
“Who is it?”
“The Chinese,” and Adam reached for his whisky again. Another sip.
“What can I do for you, my friend?”
Adam ran through the situation, explaining how he’d laid the trap.
“So you just need eyes on the ground in China? No worries. I’ll get things moving. You’ll owe us for this, you know. Big time. Plus we’ll need our turn with the culprit if you do uncover them, okay?”
“Let’s deal with that later, shall we? I’m struggling enough getting my head around the idea that one of my most senior people could be the leak. I’ve known most of them for years. They’ve all been to my home. I mean, they’re like family.”
“I hear you, Adam. Look, we’ll set up the surveillance units. I cannot risk losing anyone, but we’ll make sure we have teams watching each location for sure. We’ll know if someone comes looking. I’ll get the information to you in real time. Is that okay?”
“Yes, thanks, Roy. I won’t forget this. One more thing. It cannot leave your office. I cannot have my guys knowing about this. Trust is everything in our circles, as you know, and if they knew I was even suspecting them, it would damage things.”
“I hear you. Mum’s the word. You have my word on that one, Adam. The teams will not even know why they are watching these locations. This is between you and me, old buddy. Remember, you’ll owe me.”
“I hear you, Roy. I’ll send you the details. Speak soon,” and he ended the call. Three minutes later he’d sent over everything to Roy, and his glass was already onto its third refill.
9
Nigeria
In an unknown part of north-east Nigeria, Jianguo was still being held by Boko Haram. He felt cut off from the world, invisible. The beatings had stopped for a few days. His health was on the brink, plus he’d started to talk. That had purchased him a little time, though he wondered how much. For Jianguo, it was a toss-up between taking his time to make contact, and thereby saving himself from further torture, or speeding up, to increase his chance of rescue and therefore ending his captivity altogether.
Two days after first making his request, a computer was finally placed in front of him. The device was Chinese assembled, but that was obvious. His country had been expanding into Africa for years. Nigeria had become one of their key partners, especially since the war. He’d been given a computer, at last, following his request. He needed to make contact with his superiors to obtain the remaining information they had on the British. While doing that, he would look for ways of highlighting his situation, which he hoped would lead to a rescue. He felt they
owed him at least that. He would make it clear he’d not given anything away regarding the blueprints for the power plant, though that was the apparent reason for the kidnapping in the first place.
Jianguo was still in extreme pain. The rough splint had probably saved the leg, but it wasn’t healing correctly, and he couldn’t put any weight on it. It made escape impossible, not that he had anywhere to go. His body was broken, his spirit almost crushed. But now, communication possible, a computer keyboard finally sitting on his lap, he knew that he didn’t want his story to end there in Nigeria. In some back street, dusty, unknown location, away from family. It wasn’t his time to die, and the last month now gave him a reason for hope. He’d come through hell, was still alive and now about to connect to HQ. He now reasoned he was too valuable to be left for dead. Undoubtedly they’d been searching, longing for some form of contact? Maybe they’d already sent someone, a team of agents hunting him down, preparing a rescue? Perhaps they’d even commissioned their Shadow Man to come and get him? He shared history with their top enforcer after all. He was one of the very few people in the Red Army who knew about this secret weapon, this silent assassin who’d been so much help to his country over the years. Hope rose in his crushed soul for the first time since his abduction.
He opened the machine. A wire had been attached to it, which stretched out through the closed door, the two-inch gap underneath the metal door allowing the cable to flow unchallenged. Two men were standing behind him, one at each shoulder. He was never left alone. The screen came to life. The computer seemed to work well. He didn’t know why, here in the middle of nowhere, he’d expected it to be slow. It wasn’t the wireless Internet, but it was a connection nonetheless. For that, he was grateful.
“Make this fast,” came a grunted message, through interpretation as always.
Jianguo typed away. He’d opened a browser and pulled up the main webpage of what he required. It was a general chat room, though he had logged in to a members only area.
“What are you doing?” came the challenge from behind.
“Listen, this is how we connect. Coded conversation through secure, private chat rooms. It means we can be anywhere around the world and always make contact in a moment. It is where I’ll get you the information from. Okay?”
The man behind him made a noise, more beast than human. He pressed the muzzle of his rifle into the left shoulder of Jianguo, drilling in harder than needed.
“You’d better,” is all he added, before pulling the gun away again.
Pain shot through Jianguo’s body once more, his shoulder reacting to the latest abuse. He did his best to ignore the pain and pressed on regardless. He opened up the chat group he needed and began to write a message, a combination of letters and numbers. Code. He was confirming identity.
“What is all this?” screamed the interpreter once more, mimicking the guard in every way. Jianguo wasn’t sure who was the more threatening of the two. An armed, face-covered militant screaming words he couldn’t understand, or an irate interpreter speaking words he did?
“Look, it’s just procedure. I’m just confirming my identity.”
“Stop,” he said again, a camera pulled from a bag once Jianguo had finished typing, his hands coming away from the machine in obvious frustration. Seconds later there was the bright flash of a camera’s bulb, a photo taken of the screen in front of them. Now they had his apparent coded identity for use later, if they ever needed it. “Go on again!” the guard then said.
Over the next five minutes, a conversation was obviously started online. His clearance had checked out, and someone was responding to every message. A small file was eventually sent to Jianguo. He paused before opening it, as another round of questioning erupted from behind him.
“What is that?”
“It’s part of what you’re looking for. I wanted to prove to you that this is what I’m asking them to provide. Please, let me show you.”
“Go on, but I’m warning you,” he said, gun once more pressing into that painful left shoulder.
Jianguo clicked the file which opened after a few seconds. Data appeared on the screen. It was clear to them what it was.
“Very good. When will we get it all?”
“I’ll come back on tomorrow. I’ve told them to have everything ready to send to me next time. Then you’ll have it all. All that the British don’t want you to know––their most secretive, and vulnerable, information. You’ll have it tomorrow. Okay?”
“Okay,” came the reply, as the computer was taken away from him.
What he hadn’t said anything about were the other messages dropped into the coded conversation. Extra numbers here and there, a long time learned list that was a call for help. Like zero one five––I’m speaking under duress. Zero three two––need rescue. Zero nine nine––attach location file. While the data they sent did offer something of what the terrorists were looking for, its real purpose was to drop in a worm that would sit in the computer hard drive. Having arranged to make a connection again the following day, it would give the Chinese time to get the tracking software ready, and as soon as contact established, they would be able to focus in on his exact location. A rescue was now possible.
Jianguo showed none of this on his face. Inside, he once again had hope. If he could get through the next day, and then beyond that to what he hoped would be just hours before rescue, he’d live to see his homeland once more. The tables were turning.
China
Steve had been hiding for two days straight. The longer he was still in China, the more vulnerable he was. A shudder ran through him instinctively as Steve pondered what it would be like if they were able to catch him. He’d been in some contact with his handler before Adam Bennett, head of MI6, had made direct contact himself. He’d explained a little as to what was happening, not giving all the details as to why, but warned Steve to stay low, that help was coming soon, but before that he needed to wait while they tracked down the Chinese agents that were looking for him. He’d reassured Steve that an American unit was nearby ready to make the extraction. They were to stay in regular contact throughout the next few hours.
Steve had stocked up on supplies, though the water was beginning to run low. He guessed if he were careful, it would see out the day. Beyond that, he would need to break cover and get some more supplies. If everything went to plan, he’d be picked up long before the water ran out. He might even be out of China before nightfall.
Roy Cole, at the CIA, had been in regular contact with Adam as well, confirming teams were in place on the ground near the five locations that Adam had sent to them. A sixth group was watching close by at the headquarters of the Chinese Secret Service. They’d be able to confirm any activity there, especially a convoy leaving the base.
That happened just after three in the afternoon, local time. Three trucks and two blacked out saloon cars travelling at speed out from the base. The news was shared with the team, also relayed to Roy and then in turn to Adam.
“Chinese are moving. Stand guard, everyone.”
In London, Adam swallowed hard, the unfolding situation happening at the moment only confirming his worst fears. The five locations that Adam had given were spaced out generously. The closest to the base was about fifty minutes away, depending on quite how fast they were moving, the furthest just over two hours. Therefore, in the next one hundred and twenty minutes, at most, they would know their leak. A no-show at each location meant another member of his senior staff was off the hook. As the options narrowed, the noose was tightening around someone’s neck. Teams were in place to capture the culprit, not that any of the potential traitors knew anything about it at that moment. Adam had positioned each unit in proximity to each of the five ready to strike when needed. He felt even the preparation of such an action was an insult to these people, friends he’d known for years, and for four of them, entirely unjustified. Adam hoped they would never find out, though, in the investigation that followed, it would surely all come
out. He would have to reveal how he caught the person, and that in turn would explain who he was investigating. Still, that would come out after a successful mission. Surely they would then understand and move on?
At each of the locations, a team of Americans were watching. Each group included one soldier, though they were there for the protection of the American technical staff, who specialised in watching and listening. The Americans were not known for being overactive when it came to mainland China. Watch and listen. Keep your distance. They would, therefore, avoid getting drawn into something that could quickly escalate. Besides, all they were there for was to confirm whether the Chinese came searching a particular location, or not. There was no one at risk, no one they needed to protect, so as long as each team kept their distance, kept their cover, they were safe. They didn’t even know why they were watching a specific location, and for whom, but that was standard practice. The less they knew, the better.
Steve was tucked away safely. He was further from the base than any of the five locations about which the Chinese might know. As the clock moved through five that afternoon, the final place braced themselves for the Chinese. The first four sites, all within easy reach of the base by now, had started to stand down.
“Just waiting for the final location now, Steve,” Adam wrote to his agent. He thought of the man who he’d given that location to, probably his closest confidant within the team. The thought that Adam was soon to discover the Chinese swamping that spot, the leak exposed, made Adam feel sick. It would be a betrayal of everything in which he believed. Both men had shared a long history. The reality that he was the traitor, as the minutes ticked by and all the other locations remained quiet, was starting to sink in. An SAS unit was already in position just outside his Kensington home. Weapons were being checked, but orders were to take him alive.
Another ten minutes went by, then five more.