by Ty Patterson
An elderly lady glanced at him and clicked her tongue in sympathy. ‘Old age, honey. Happens to all of us.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
A newspaper rustled. A suit reading the day’s business sheets on the neighboring table. He didn’t want to be disturbed. Morning coffee and stock market performance and corporate news were his escape.
The sisters returned with mugs and a plate full of cookies. ‘Our part is done,’ Beth spoke with her mouth full, swallowed, and continued. ‘Sarah said we should drop into Federal Plaza sometime today and tie up the loose ends, but our role is finished.’
She glanced at Meghan who was tracing circles on the table with her spoon, and quirked her eyebrow at Zeb. He shrugged. He’d no clue.
‘She needs a boyfriend,’ Beth mouthed.
‘I heard that. I can take care of my love life, thanks.’ The sister spoke.
The newspaper rustled again and the suit glared at them above its edges. Couldn’t a stock broker get any quiet? His eyes disappeared when Zeb looked at him and he got the quiet he wanted.
Beth rolled her eyes and grabbed the last cookie before Zeb could. She broke it in two and offered a piece, the smaller portion, to Zeb. Meghan was still silent and when she turned to her sister, she saw the familiar expression on her twin’s face.
A floating thought, a connection, had just struck Meghan.
Meghan couldn’t turn away from the suit’s newspaper which was angled just right for her to read the front page. The headlines were all about the counterfeit scandal, however, below the main article was another report.
Chinese fund poised to close largest semiconductor deal today.
Chinese government backed fund is likely to take significant stakes in three semiconductor companies today. Historic day with three M&A deals to go in favor of fund, within hours of one another. Total deal value in excess of one hundred and fifty billion dollars. One of the largest M&A combined transactions.
The country’s name was what had drawn her attention in the first place. Government was the second word.
What if...? she began thinking and trailed off when suit turned down Zeb angrily when her friend asked him for the front page. Meghan’s sister tried, requesting him politely, smiling widely and sweetly at the suit, who immediately melted and handed over the cover page to her. He crackled the remaining pages and glared at Zeb. You need to learn some manners, he seemed to suggest.
Beth cleared their table and spread the page for them to read.
The Chinese state backed fund had been wooing the three semiconductor companies for years, it stated. All three were in California; Moeda was listed on the NASDAQ, the two others were privately held.
The fund had appeared to fend off an American suitor and a Japanese one. Moeda, the largest of the courted companies, was due to have its board meeting at three pm that day; it was expected the board would green light the Chinese offer.
The other two companies had similar board meetings an hour later, and similar outcomes were expected. The fund was expected to get CFIUS approval; it had done its homework and had presented several proposals to the agency to mitigate any national security concerns it might have. It was rumored that the proposals had been received well.
CFIUS, the Committee on Foreign Investment in the United States, was an all-powerful inter-agency committee chaired by the Secretary of the Treasury. It had members from Defense, State, Commerce, Homeland Security, and many others.
CFIUS could approve transactions or could recommend that the president block an acquisition if the agency believed the acquisition was against national security interests.
Meghan skipped over details of how the agency worked and read the rest of the report rapidly.
The transactions would be all cash, with the majority of funds coming from the acquirer’s country, if the acquirer was a foreign company. The technology of the three companies was widely used in general computing applications, however, Moeda’s chips were used in avionics and robotics as well.
Meghan paused from reading and searched her memory for a distant recollection. I’ve heard of Moeda before. In which context? She leaned back and let Beth take the newspaper from her as she racked her brains, trying to remember.
No memory came and she looked around the coffee store in frustration, as if hoping inspiration would strike. A barista looked at her and nodded in acknowledgement when she indicated a second serving of their drinks. A couple was seated in a corner whispering sweet nothings.
A few students were poring over books and writing in notepads. She thanked their server absentmindedly, not paying much attention to Beth and Zeb who were conversing softly.
She froze in mid-swallow when the memory came back. Letwoski! He mentioned Moeda. They were interested in the research, even though it was commissioned by the DoD. The research would fit in with their chip development.
With that came another sickening thought, one that made her draw closer to Beth and Zeb and flag their attention.
‘What if those bills were meant to be found?’
Chapter Thirty-Nine
‘That would mean all these posts, the tweets, they were organized. A deliberate attempt to bring the stock markets and the dollar down,’ Beth emptied her mug and toyed with it as she followed her sister’s train of thought. ‘Why?’
Meghan turned the newspaper around to her, in answer.
Beth’s face paled when she read the headlines again and the implications sank in. ‘Foreign exchange market manipulation. To get the lowest rate when they transferred their funds.’
‘A few percentage points in their favor would mean millions of savings to them. Enough to offset the cost of the operation,’ Meghan elaborated.
‘This’s big. The 41S, they were just pawns, if you’re right.’
Zeb rose abruptly silencing any more discussion. ‘Let’s go. This is way above Burke. The right people need to hear your idea.’
‘Someone high up in their government would own this plan,’ Beth mumbled as she ran search queries on her screen, back in their office.
‘That could be anyone,’ Meghan brought up photographs of various Chinese ministers, many of who had been educated in the U.S. Some had doctorates, some had specialized in economics. ‘They need not be from the government. It could be a rogue minister or one of their secretive intelligence agencies. Trying to find out who’s responsible will be near impossible.’
‘We don’t need to know who,’ Zeb corrected her, from behind. ‘We only need to stop the deals from happening. When are those board meetings?’
‘Moeda’s the first one, at three pm.’
Their eyes involuntary swung towards the wall clock. It was just past one pm.
‘Zeb,’ the woman in Washington DC acknowledged his call. No hello. No how’re you doing. Clare didn’t believe in meaningless exchanges. Neither did Zeb, which was one reason he was her lead agent.
‘There are three semiconductor companies in California that will–’
‘I know about them.’
‘You need to stop those transactions.’
‘Why?’
Zeb signaled to Meghan who came forward and explained swiftly and succinctly. They heard keys click at Clare’s end as Meghan outlined her thinking, mentioned names and events and how her theory fit.
‘You’ve no proof. This’s just supposition.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
They fell silent, waiting for one of the most powerful people in the country to kick the tires on Meghan’s theory. The clicking stopped and a chair creaked over the line.
‘You could be wrong.’
‘That’s possible, ma’am. However, I haven’t been wrong often,’ she countered cheekily.
There was a smile in Clare’s voice when she replied. ‘Stand by.’
Xiong Dingxiang, Minister of Commerce, Beijing man, had guests with him in his sumptuous home in a highly secluded neighborhood in the city. It was nearing three am, however this was a party thrown by the Mini
ster of Commerce and one didn’t leave, however late the hour was.
TVs played silently all over the marbled lounge through which uniformed servers drifted, carrying trays of champagne and canapés.. It wasn’t exactly the kind of party the government approved, but no one dared to question Xiong Dingxiang.
He was the star of the Communist Party and was destined for positions higher than his current one. He was genius-smart, wily, and ruthless and had a meteoric rise in government. He had joined the Department of Commerce immediately after his return from the U.S. and his knowledge of that country, his grasp of economics and his political maneuvering had resulted in his heading the ministry in ten years.
Today was the glorious culmination of his grand plan, he exulted silently and toasted the Defense Minister, a general, who knew of the plan.
Chinese companies and funds had bought several American companies in the past. However, no one ever had bought a company at what was effectively a hugely significant discount. No one had temporarily destabilized the U.S. markets at the same time.
The plan had been known only to two other people. One was the general who was across the room talking to an Asian beauty, the other was the Foreign Minister. He too was at the party, and he too was looking forward to the grand finale.
Xiong Dingxiang had gone rogue in coming up with and executing his plan. He had to, since the government and the party would never approve or sanction it. He believed the rewards, what a successful outcome would do to his career, were worth the risks and hence he had pulled out all stops.
He had siphoned off funds from his ministry, a surprisingly easy task to do, and his contacts and the network of Hong Kong man, had been sufficient to get the various parts moving.
He had taken great pains to distance himself from the actual operation and his only contact was with Hong Kong man.
The two ministers knew because he had to take them in confidence and get some favors done. They wouldn’t snitch on him since he knew some of their secrets too.
Of course, the two ministers were his rivals too and wanted him to fail. All three of them had their eyes on the greatest prize, that of being the next president. All three knew that if Xiong Dingxiang pulled off his plan, he would be the front runner.
There was no if about it. In less than an hour, Moeda’s board would announce their decision. Once the other decisions were known, Xiong Dingxiang would carefully leak some details of the plan. Not the killings of course, nor the counterfeiting, or any of the unlawful activity.
A story would go out about the elaborate planning, about getting CFIUS approvals, about wooing American politicians. His already high profile would become stratospheric. The road to the presidency would be wide open.
Those in the inner secretive circles of the Communist Party would know more details once the deals had gone through, and they would throw their weight behind him.
He excused himself and went to an inner room and called Hong Kong man. Everything was rolling smoothly, however, it never hurt to check.
Everything was on track, Hong Kong man confirmed. Once the decisions were announced, funds would be transferred from China to designated accounts in the U.S. and the acquisition process would roll forward.
‘Peng Huang?’ the minister barked.
‘Taken care of.’ The 41S boss would never be seen again.
‘There’s someone they have in custody, don’t they? Zho?’ The minister asked in a more conciliatory tone.
‘He won’t talk. He too will be taken care of, in prison.’
Xiong Dingxiang breathed a tiny sigh of relief and immediately held the phone away from his mouth. Sighing was a sign of weakness. He could not show weakness to anyone.
He returned to the party with a bounce in his step and got closer to his fellow ministers who had their eyes glued to the TV sets. No one else seemed to be watching the screens but for them.
There was still some time away for the announcements and Xiong Dingxiang couldn’t wait to see the expressions on their faces when victory, for him, was announced by the news reporter.
Their expressions made him falter. The two ministers had a smug look of satisfaction. He turned in confusion to the TV, and what he read ended his world.
The reporter was announcing gravely that the three semiconductor companies were going ahead with the American offer. The Chinese one was rejected, even though it was higher and met all the requirements of the three companies.
A government spokesman announced there was a national security risk in having foreign ownership of the three companies.
The Defense Minister turned to Xiong Dingxiang, barely concealing his glee.
‘You failed. You’re finished.’
It took another three months to investigate the conspiracy, and for the FBI to make more direct links between Xiong Dingxiang and the acquisition.
They didn’t get any direct proof, but in one of the obscure parts of the internet, on a long forgotten server, a photograph emerged of the Minister of Commerce meeting with Peng Huang in a bar in Manhattan.
It wasn’t a high profile bar, it was one of those cheap ones that catered to the less demanding drinker. The picture had been taken by a tourist who had been after a downtown view. The bar’s window was in the bottom corner of the image and the two men’s faces were clear enough to be recognized.
The photograph was enough for the government’s machinery to act on. It lodged a formal protest with the Chinese government, and suggested the minister had a hand in all that had gone on.
The Chinese government reacted strongly, in denial, and said the minister was a highly respected member of their cabinet. They would investigate that photograph, but they were sure it was random coincidence. One never knew who one was sitting next to, in a bar.
They valued their relationship with the U.S. and would never do anything to imperil it. Bringing about financial market instability made no sense, they claimed, since China had numerous investments in the U.S.
The damage was done, however, and in a reshuffle, Xiong Dingxiang was stripped of his position. Charges of corruption and graft were brought against him subsequently.
Days turned into weeks and then months. The markets recovered, the dollar gained ground and the conspiracy was soon forgotten as politics and celebrity scandals hit the news. The twins got occupied on another Agency mission which involved all of them and when it had successfully completed, they organized a dinner in New York.
The Minters attended, along with Cali who was fully recovered and was working in a particle physics research organization. She was no longer a FBI agent, preferring the relatives slow pace of life in science. Chang and Pizaka were there, the latter, immaculate as usual and brandishing his latest book. Sarah Burke was seated next to Broker who was regaling his audience with tales of political intrigue in DC.
Beth was perched on the arm of Mark’s seat, her hands entwined with his, and spoke of taking a vacation with him.
During a pause in the conversation, Cali brought out a newspaper and pointed to a photograph in it. ‘You know what happened to him?’ she asked the cops in the room.
The dead man in the picture had no identity and had died in mysterious circumstances. Cali had recognized him as soon as she’d seen the reports; he was her interrogator, but the cops hadn’t worked out how he had died. No one had come forward with any information.
Chang shook his head in disgust. ‘A city of eight million and no one knows anything or has seen anything. This’ll go in the books as a cold case.’
Meghan refrained from looking in Zeb’s direction who was sitting in a corner, quiet as usual, enjoying the company of his friends.
Betcha he knows! Not that he’d tell us.
Zeb knew. It had taken him time to hunt the torturer, hours and days of talking to contacts and meeting gangsters in prison, but he’d finally found the man. The interrogator had been hiding in a concealed room above a 41S owned strip mall in Brooklyn. The room had been built behind the bedroom wa
rdrobe of an apartment above the strip mall.
Zeb had thought of presenting him to the cops, but when he’d seen the leather case the man carried with him, he’d changed his mind. The case contained shiny implements, tools he enjoyed using.
The final piece in the puzzle fell randomly into place. It hadn’t been anticipated and Meghan wasn’t even aware a final piece existed.
Chapter Forty
Zeb and she had flown to DC a month later; she to attend a dinner along with General Klouse, he to discuss a new mission with Clare.
General Klouse had been invited to the dinner thrown by a few of his friends in the DoD, and the invite suggested he could bring along a companion. That line presented him with a dilemma. He knew most of the other attendees would be paired up and he didn’t wish to stick out like a sore thumb. He had no romantic entanglements and it was while talking to Zeb, the latter had suggested he take along one of the twins.
Beth had gone to Key West on her vacation with Mark; Meghan immediately accepted when the general diffidently called her. ‘You might not want to spend the evening with an old guy and listen to boring tales,’ he had laughed.
Meghan liked spending time with him and DC was a city she loved. She had no second thoughts in taking him up on his invite.
Zeb and she took a very early morning train to the capital and checked into a hotel not far from the most famous residence on the planet. They caught up on their sleep for a few hours and then split up: Zeb to meet Clare and Meghan to meet the general.
It was while she was in her cab, that Meghan realized she was carrying Zeb’s duffel which had spare magazines and various pieces of gear that he used on missions.
Your stuff’s with me, she texted him.
Keep it, he replied. I won’t be needing it.
What if you get mugged?
She put her phone away when no response came. Humor was usually an alien emotion for her friend.