by Trevor Scott
The American billionaire had been killed, so the island was currently being sold by the man’s distant niece, who had inherited everything.
Wu shifted his head nervously and leaned toward the tall man. “But we will be making nothing either.”
Barnes smiled. “I know. But we told them we were building a huge resort and casino complex big enough to rival Atlantis on Paradise Island. That’s why we will need to extend the runway.”
“Why are they making us wait?”
That was a little disturbing to Bobby Barnes also. After all, they were buying a damn island in the Bahamas.
“Someone screwed up the paperwork,” Barnes lied. “So, they’re rerunning all the copies.”
Wu nodded his understanding.
Barnes had made a fortune off of his transactions on behalf of the Chinese government in the past few years. He had already brokered a deal for islands owned by the Indonesians, the Venezuelans, the Portuguese and many others. He had no idea why the Chinese wanted all of these properties, and he didn’t want to know. As long as the money flowed to his private accounts in tax shelter countries around the world, he was as happy as those pedophiles on that island before they were all shot to hell.
Barnes glanced down the table at the others in attendance. They were all actors dressed for the part in business suits and used as props for this transaction. They were mostly ex-pat Americans who thought they were here to play a hidden camera prank on the group of lawyers. All of them had been instructed to keep their mouths shut or they wouldn’t make a dime.
In a few moments two lawyers came into the room, followed by a beautiful Latina woman in a red dress, who carried the paperwork with tabs indicating where to sign. She set the papers on the table and stood tall as she waited for the lawyers to speak.
Since Barnes and company had already agreed to the terms of the deal, all of this was ceremony. Barnes flipped through and initialed and signed where needed as the young woman turned the pages for him.
Within minutes, the paperwork was complete and Bobby Barnes now owned one of the larger of the 700 islands in the Bahamas. At least on paper. In reality, his private bank account in Panama, Belize, and Andorra would get fatter within a few minutes. Barnes would check on all these through his smart phone apps before he left the high rise.
16
Suez, Egypt
Serina and Bayla Ganz had barely escaped the meeting near the Suez Canal earlier that evening. From that meeting they had not gone back to their hotel—feeling that they had been compromised. Instead, Bayla had stolen a car and taken them around the massive harbor, past the petroleum holding facilities, and just beyond Adabiya to a point that jutted out into the harbor like a fish hook.
Now, sitting on a high point overlooking the dark construction zone along the harbor, Sirena concentrated on the activity below through a set of binoculars. Sitting to Sirena’s right, Bayla held a digital camera with a large zoom lens. The Mossad officer was taking photos of the construction and automatically uploading them to her agency in Israel.
“What are you thinking?” Sirena asked.
Bayla didn’t look at her old friend. She simply kept on shooting photos in infrared mode. “The Chinese are not simply building a port here. That’s obvious.”
Sirena had to agree with her friend. “I was thinking the same thing. Especially those two structures nearly complete.”
Finally shifting her gaze at Sirena, Bayla said, “You mean the missile storage facilities?”
“That’s my assessment,” Sirena said.
“From this location, the Chinese could shut down the Suez Canal.”
“But why would Egypt allow this?”
“I don’t know. Money? Maybe they don’t know or care.”
Sirena looked through her binoculars again. “This makes no sense in the abstract. But have you heard about China’s long-range plans for world domination?”
“Planetary hegemony?” Bayla said with a slight chuckle.
“Don’t laugh,” Sirena warned. “They’re dead serious about this. Their leaders have been building a new Silk Road by sea and by land.”
“The Belt and Road Initiative? We’ve been briefed. But the Americans are probably more up to date on this plan.”
Sirena set the binoculars against her chest and said, “It’s happening. They’re building a high-speed rail system from their west to India and Europe. This is not set to simply carry passengers. They plan to use high speed transport of goods.”
“The Himalayan Mountains might be a tough slog.”
“They plan to go through natural fissures and tunnel through the rest.”
Bayla pointed toward the construction. “Isn’t there a sea element to their plans?”
“That’s right. It’s called their Maritime Silk Road. It runs along the coast of China to Singapore. Then it goes through the Strait of Malacca to India, Africa and here to the Suez Canal. They go through the Suez to the Mediterranean, connecting to all trade in Europe.”
“What about America?” Bayla asked.
“They’re already buying up troubled ports in America, Central America and South America. I’m not privy to all the data, but I’ve heard they purchased much of the Panama Canal. There was talk of running a new canal through Lake Nicaragua, but that one seems to be dead currently.”
“And what’s their play in Portugal?” Bayla asked.
“Why did the Mossad send you there?”
Bayla hesitated, obviously assessing what she could tell Sirena. Finally, with a slight shake of her head, Bayla said, “The Americans should never have given up their field at Lajes. Soon the Chinese will have a foothold less than a thousand miles from the European continent. They already have stealth long-range bombers that can reach every city in Europe within a few hours.”
“That’s not the worst of it, Bayla,” Sirena said. “They’re building a satellite launch facility on Santa Maria Island. Of course, that’s only a front for their real intent.”
“Ballistic missiles,” Bayla filled in.
“Exactly.”
The two of them stared at each other for a long moment. Finally, Bayla said, “We’ve been suspecting the Palestinians have been getting their weapons from Asia. We’ve confiscated arms of Chinese manufacture.”
“But those might have been from North Korea,” Sirena said.
“We don’t care who the supplier is,” Bayla said. “Our people are still dead regardless.”
“I know. Do you think the Chinese are complicit?”
“We’re starting to think they’re orchestrating the deals.”
“Why?”
Bayla shrugged. “We’re the only force in the Middle East that can stop them. But that’s only because they don’t have a huge footprint here. Not yet.”
Sirena wasn’t sure where this was going. Could Israel consider taking on the powerful Chinese?
“What’s going on, Bayla?” Sirena asked her old friend.
Bayla pointed down toward the harbor under construction. “You have verified our concerns. Those hardened facilities could eventually hold nuclear weapons. It would only take a few direct hits in our cities to destroy the State of Israel.”
“Do you really think they would do that?”
“If they get their base built, they could sure as hell pressure us with annihilation. Force us to capitulate to the whim of Palestine. We would fail to be a viable nation at that point. We can’t allow this.”
Finally, it came to Sirena in a rush. “What have you done?”
Bayla checked her watch and said, “The night shift is barely occupied. Not like day shift.”
The first indication that all was not right in Suez, Egypt, was the initial total blackout of the city. Then Bayla handed Sirena earplugs, which she put in quickly. Next came the first explosion, which took out one of the hardened facilities. Bayla continued to shoot video with her camera, making sure she caught every strike. Within a few seconds, the entire construction site was de
stroyed or on fire. There was only a faint sound of aircraft vectoring away from Suez and toward the Sinai.
Crap! Sirena got a smile on her face, knowing that her former country still had power projection in the Middle East.
“F-35s,” Bayla said. “Let’s go.”
The two of them ran toward their stolen car and got the hell out of the area. The lights of the city would not come on until they were too far away to see them.
17
Lisbon, Portugal
Jake got a text from Sancho just as the train pulled into the main train terminal a few blocks up the hill from the waterfront.
“Important?” Carla asked.
“Not dealing with this case,” Jake said, although he guessed this was a lie. Sancho had used facial recognition to find the identities of the two men Sirena and Bayla had killed in Suez. Both men were Chinese trade representatives, which meant they were probably with the Ministry of State Security for the People’s Republic of China.
Carla got up and strapped her bag over her shoulder. “Where now?”
“I would say your place, but I don’t think that’s a good idea right now.”
“What about the man who attacked me?”
He had already thought about him. “He’ll probably have friends when we get off,” Jake said. “We’ll have to lose them all.” Picking up his bag, he led her out of the compartment.
The main train terminal actually pulled in on a hillside above the main pedestrian zone in a very impressive stone building. As they walked down the terminal platform toward the exit, Jake kept his eyes on potential targets.
Nuzzling up behind Carla, Jake whispered, “Do you see them?”
She shook her head. But then she said, “Wait. The man on the other side of the turnstile.”
“That’s one. Do you recognize him?”
“No.”
“What about the man to the right waiting outside the men’s bathroom.”
“A man waiting for his friend.”
“No. He’s covering that in case I go that way. And there’s probably a woman inside your bathroom.”
“I do have to go,” she said.
“It’ll have to wait. We’re about to be attacked.” He had considered having them get off the train at an outer terminal and then take other transportation into the city center, but sometimes he needed to see what they were up against. Now he knew.
Jake zipped his jacket down for easy access to his Glock under his left arm. He saw that Carla had her hand in her purse. Good, she was ready, he thought.
“Follow me,” Jake said, picking up his pace and flowing into the center of the train passengers heading for the exit.
There was a bottle-neck at the turnstile area, but Jake pushed through like a good German would in this situation. Once he got to the ticket area outside the secure area, he glanced about for potential targets.
Carla grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the tall stone staircase. Others were filing onto the down escalator, bunching up again. But they quickly took the stairs two at a time.
Glancing back, Jake could see two men following them down the stairs. He knew they had to have friends, though. So, Jake kept his eyes ahead.
Within seconds they were down the stairs and onto a major street square, where the sidewalks were cluttered with evening shoppers. Cars and buses flowed around the square.
“There’s at least one cruise ship in port,” Carla said. “They’ve been keeping them until late evening so passengers can experience the night life here.”
This gave Jake an idea. “Let’s see your phone.”
She reluctantly pulled her phone from her back jeans pocket and handed it to Jake. Ahead, he could see a tour group led by a man carrying a blue umbrella. Jake gently pushed his way into the tour group, bumped into an older lady with a large shopping bag, and simultaneously dropped Carla’s phone into a cluster of purchased items.
The deed done, Jake moved along the sidewalk toward what appeared to be a pedestrian zone.
“Is that no cars?” Jake asked.
“Yes,” she said. “Restaurants and shops lead to a waterfront square. Very good food.”
“Is it busy this time of night?” he asked.
“Yes, of course. I could eat.”
“Hang in there, Carla. First we need to lose these assholes.”
“Fine. But this is my city. You follow me.”
He couldn’t argue with her logic. She weaved her way through narrow passages where cars could not travel, turning left and right at seemingly random locations. Perhaps that was her intention.
After they had traveled for more than ten minutes, Jake’s old legs were feeling the hills they traversed. But he kept up with the younger woman, making sure they were not being followed. They had lost the men after only a few minutes. He finally stopped Carla in a dark alley with a hand to her shoulder.
Breathless, she turned and their faces ended up only inches apart. “What?” she asked.
“We’ve lost them,” he said.
“Are you sure?”
“Pretty sure. Hopefully they’re following that old woman back to her cruise ship.”
“That was genius. What now?”
He backed away to a respectable speaking distance and said, “Now we get a hotel for the night before we investigate the death of our two people.”
“I know a hotel a few blocks up the hill,” Carla said.
“Up?” Jake smiled. “You could know about one down the hill?”
She backhanded him in the chest. “Let’s go, old man.” Then she strutted off up the hill away from the waterfront.
“This is age discrimination,” he said. But he wasn’t sure she heard him.
Ten minutes later and they were outside the high-rise hotel. Jake found his passport and the credit card he used with that persona.
“I’ll check in,” Jake said.
“They’ll ask for my passport as well.”
“Right. That’s why you’ll wait here until I check in. Then follow me to the elevators. I’ll take your bag so it looks like you’re already staying here.”
She handed him her bag and he slung it over his shoulder with his own.
Check in took just seconds. Once he got his key card, he turned and saw that Carla had already gotten to the elevators. They didn’t acknowledge each other in the elevator, but got off on the seventh floor together. Jake glanced down the hallway and saw that there were no cameras here. They only had the hotel entrance, the elevators, and probably the bar area covered with security cameras.
They went into their room and Carla went immediately to the windows, opening the shades for a nice view of the city lights at night. From here they could see the harbor below, as well as the vast suspension bridge that was built to resemble the Golden Gate Bridge.
Jake set their bags on the large king-sized bed and met her at the window. “Nice view.”
“I stayed here for a few days when I first came to the city to work.”
“I thought you were from Lisbon.”
She shook her head. “Just a short one-hour train ride up into the mountains. A place called Sintra.”
“People in the Azores talked about that place,” he said.
“Once it was a nice place. But now it is a tourist trap. I don’t go there anymore.”
“Not even to see family?” he asked.
“My parents are dead. They died a few years ago in a train crash in Spain.”
“I’m sorry.” He hesitated before asking, “Do you have siblings?”
“I have an older sister living down the coast in Sines with her husband and two children. My younger brother is a sergeant in the Portuguese Army. I don’t see either of them anymore. Not with my profession.”
Jake knew all about keeping distance from relatives in the spy game. It was for their own good, but he guessed they would never understand that.
“You checked it with an Austrian passport,” she said.
“Yes. It’s real
.” Well, in reality it was a real passport with a fake name—his old Austrian persona.
“How does that work?”
He guessed there was no real harm in telling this intel officer a little about his background, without divulging anything too important. “I lived in Austria for years. Did some work for some high-ranking Austrian officials. Because of that work, the Grand Master of the Teutonic Knights bestowed upon me honorary knighthood, and the Austrian government awarded me the Great Golden Decoration with Star of Austria.”
“Impressive,” she said. “Should I call you Sir Adams?”
“Call me Jake or don’t call me at all.”
She smiled. “A humble knight. Did you have to take the vow of celibacy?”
“Not exactly.”
“But the Austrians made it possible for you to carry a handgun anywhere in Europe.”
“That they did.”
“That’s better than any medal. Especially in your line of work.”
He agreed with a nod.
She glanced around Jake at the bed. “Just one bed.”
“It’s a king-sized bed,” he said. “I promise not to wander to your side.”
She tapped her hand on his chest. “I wish I could make that same promise.” Then she went off to the bathroom with her bag.
Wonderful, he thought. Just then his phone buzzed in his pants and he picked it up.
“Sirena. Where are you?”
“Crossing the Sinai with Bayla,” she said. “We need to talk.”
“About?”
“The Chinese. They were building a military facility on the outer edge of Suez.”
“Were?”
“Yeah. We just watched the Israeli Air Force destroy the facility. The shit is about to hit the fan.”