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Authors: Wesley Chu

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BOOK: The Deaths of Tao
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“That went more or less as expected.”
I thought it went quite well, actually. Did you see the look on his face when he heard what Gastigone wanted with the military base in Turkey?
 
“I’m not going to lie, I almost slugged him when he called me a backstabbing turd playing for the other side.”
You would have been justifiably excused if you had.
 
She turned to see Tammy, wide-eyed and pale, standing by the door. “Can I get you something, Jill?” she asked, voice trembling. “Coffee? A cup of water?”
“Tequila,” Jill slapped her table. “You’ll find a half bottle in the second drawer of my cabinet. And maybe an aspirin. Make that two.”
She sat down at her desk and began to drink away her headache. She maintained a calm demeanor but inside, she was a wreck. If Wilks said no, all her hard work was wasted and she would lose all credibility in Congress. Her only remaining option would be resignation, which to be fair, didn’t sound like such a bad thing right about now.
An hour later, Wilks came out of his office and sat down opposite her. His face was less red than before and he seemed to have regained some of his composure. Noticing the bottle of tequila, he helped himself to a generous pour.
“Let me ask you something,” he said in a precise manner. She could tell he was choosing his words very carefully. “I looked everything over with a fine-toothed comb. And then I compared it with what Hogan offered me. None of it correlates. Yeah you sweetened my deal, but you’re asking me to pay a higher price too. The only similarity between your deal and his is the sanctions he is so desperate to lift. Your entire agenda is to keep them. Why?”
“Like I said, the security and economic provisions–” she began.
“You see,” he cut her off. “I don’t care two shits about these sanctions. None of them affect my home state, and frankly I couldn’t care less about trade with a region of the world where everyone is an ally, except for the egghead-shaped kid with the bad hair and nuclear ambitions. And looking at that crazy web of crap you just wove, I know you must have blown your wad on the Hill. So what are you fighting so hard for?”
Jill gave him a blank stare. She didn’t have a good answer. She couldn’t tell him that there was an alien species that wanted to move some really bad things to China to help their supply chain. She didn’t even know what it was. Sitting in uncomfortable silence, she did the only thing she could think of. She poured herself another shot of tequila and tossed it back.
“Who do you really work for?” he asked suddenly.
Oh dear.
 
Jill spit the precious alcohol all over her desk. She pulled out a tissue and wiped down the mess. She handed Wilks one as well since half the tequila ended up on him.
“I work for you, Senator,” she finally said.
He dabbed his probably ruined expensive shirt and tie and shook his head. “I thought you did. I’m not sure anymore.”
Watch your words carefully.
 
“You see,” he continued, “I’ve been in Congress for a long time now, and I’m privy to a lot of classified information. For over fifty years, the CIA has been aware of some sort of secret war going on that spans almost every government on this planet. It’s hard to pinpoint, since we can’t seem to nail down specific allegiances or central operations. The only things we have to work off are agendas. Now, I can’t tell you any more without getting indicted for treason, but what you’re doing here fits that description to a T.” He leaned back and waited for her response. “Choose your next words very carefully, Jill, because I’m one finger away from calling Langley.”
We have seen those reports. The government has a file on both the Prophus and Genjix, but little else. They believe we are secret societies.
 
“James, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jill stammered. Her pulse raced. She felt like a cornered animal.
“Here’s what I do know,” he said. “Stop me if this sounds familiar. This sanction is primarily an economic embargo on other first world countries that we are in technological competition with. Let’s cut to the chase: it’s for China. I’ve reviewed the embargo list. It’s all crap that’s only used for scientific, complex manufacturing and a bit of military tech here and there. It’s either rare compounds like dysprosium or osmium, or military application compounds like holmium or promethium, or some other ism. Now, there’s something on that list that you don’t want China to get access to. What is it?”
“Baji, I’m going to tell him.”
That is too risky. Tell him nothing!
 
“He is about to turn down the agreement and hand me over to the CIA.”
Jill took a deep breath and chose her words very carefully. “James, there is a project in China that requires a weaponized mineral mixture being refined in the States. We need these sanctions to prevent them from succeeding. I’m trying to make sure it’s not sent to China for its intended purpose.”
“And where did you receive this intel from,” he asked.
“I can’t tell you.”
Wilks scowled. “My finger’s on the speed dial to Langley. You better talk.”
“I can’t, sir.” Jill shook her head. “All I can say is that it’s imperative for the country and the world that we keep these sanctions going.”
“I see,” he said, standing up. “You leave me little choice. Please don’t leave your seat.” He walked back toward his office.
“I need to do something!”
Kill him then.
 
“No!”
“Have you ever come across the word Prophus?” she blurted out.
Wilks stopped and turned around very slowly, the color drained from his face. “That’s classified.”
“And the Genjix?”
“That’s classified as well.”
“Let me guess. Scattered in intelligence reports over the years?”
“They’re the real reason why the CIA was created,” he said. “We thought the government was being infiltrated by secret societies. Seems they’ve been around for over a hundred years.”
“Five thousand actually,” she said. “And they’re not like the Elks or the Stonecutters. It goes much deeper than that.”
Wilks looked around the room and then approached her cautiously. “Jill, I have two questions right now. One, if I don’t call the CIA, will you tell me everything? And two, am I in danger from you?”
Divulge as little as possible. The Sanctions must stand though.
 
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“You’re in no danger from me, Senator,” Jill said. “And I’ll tell you as much as I can.”
He nodded and sat back down in front of her. She pushed the coffee mug toward him. “I think you should pour yourself another drink.”
 
THIRTY
UPDATE
It was a small consolation that my host, Yamsha-Adad, was beaten by a Quasing named Camr’s host, Hammurabi. Thousands of years later, Hammurabi would be written into the annals of history as one of the greatest kings in history. But at that time, my pride was injured. Yes, even Quasing feel pride.
 
It was through that defeat that I realized how unique each human was. Most creatures on this planet, be they dinosaur or mammal, had instincts ingrained into their very being. I could inhabit most and reasonably deduce what their reaction would be to nearly all situations as long as I had experience in that creature before. This was not the case with humans.
 
Tao
 
“Are you fucking serious?” Roen pulled the knife out of his right boot and threw it the wall. It embedded hilt deep into the wall with a loud thunk. Then he pulled out the knife in his other boot and to chucked it even harder. This time, it bounced off the hilt and nearly skewered a cowering Stan. “I’m going to kill that asshole!”
Dylan, sitting sprawled on the couch with a beer in his hand, shrugged. “There’s a commandment somewhere about not being able to kill the man that officiated your wedding.”
Roen looked for any other knives on his person, and when he realized he didn’t have any more, made sure the wall was really dead by punching a hole through it.
Easy. This is a rental.
 
“Well, there goes the safety deposit.”
Roen collapsed on the sofa, knuckles white as he glared off into space. “So let me get this straight. All this time, Wuehler’s team was just decoys? And I was redundant in case you died?”
Dylan nodded. “The boys here were extra muscle if needed. Otherwise, their job was to keep the heat off my back. You were initially my replacement because Stephen didn’t know if I was alive or not. Hell, even I’m impressed I survived my escape pod blowing up. I’m a tough son of a bitch. When I got in touch with the Keeper, she felt it was better for you to stay with the team until activated.”
Makes sense. High availability in case one agent goes down. That and the Keeper just wants to screw with us any way she could.
 
Dylan continued, “If I didn’t make it, you would have gotten activated and continued where I left off. Your original intel was very on-point, by the way. We’ll make a secret agent out of you yet. Things were working well for a while. Hadn’t heard a peep from anyone until last week. Then my job got harder and now I know why.” He wagged a finger at Roen. “Make no mistake. The Genjix know you’re in this area.”
“Sorry,” Roen spat. “Maybe if someone had told our team we were just a bunch of piñatas, we’d have stayed away. Why didn’t the old man say something?”
Assigning Wuehler’s team should have been a clue.
 
“He probably figured there was no need to know, and he’s right,” Dylan said. “What if the Genjix got their hands on one of you and beat the truth out?”
Stephen’s always erred toward caution.
 
Dylan downed his beer and did a free throw at the garbage can across the living room. The can bounced off the wall half a meter from the ground. “He sent me the orders while we were being chased by the entire damn Chinese fleet. Initially told me he’d send me a team. I told him to not bother and to just light a fire on the other side of town. He knows I like to work alone.”
Roen rounded on Faust. “Why didn’t Ramez tell us?”
Faust looked just as angry. “He just told me just now. Said it was need-to-know and that no one needed to know unless Dylan was confirmed dead or failed to report in to the Keeper.”
“I hate your Quasing,” Roen spat.
“Yeah,” Faust grimaced. “Join the club. So much for the circle of trust between host and alien.”
When you are done pouting, we still have work to do.
 
Roen plopped down on the sofa and scowled. “So what’s our situation now?”
“Kaohsiung is the trade front for the Genjix supply chain. With Taiwan’s preferred trade status with most western countries, the Genjix are working around the most stringent trade restrictions. Anything that goes to China, Myanmar, North Korea, or Russia routes through this port. I’ve been attaching trackers for weeks to shipments and following the flow of cargo. It’s starting to draw a pretty clear map of their operations in this hemisphere. That’s how we pinpointed the prison camp in Tibet, the nuke base in Yukaghir, and the research program in Qingdao.” Dylan leaned in close. “I haven’t been able to infiltrate the southern part of the harbor. It’s heavily guarded, but I’ve got a plan cooked up.” Dylan picked up a beer and tossed it to Roen.
Roen deftly caught it and cracked it open, sucking in the suds. He smacked his lips and then clinked cans with Dylan. “Is there anything my boys can do to help? I promised the lying bastard I’d get you home in one ugly piece, and I meant it.”
“Got a meeting with the Keeper tonight. We’ll clarify orders. I have eighty percent of the harbor already mapped and tagged. Another two weeks and I bet I’ll crack that last twenty percent.” He finished his beer and tried another free throw. The beer can flew straight into the trash can. He looked at the table and grimaced at the now empty six-pack of beer. “Maybe we can meet up with Stephen in Tibet after we do the deed here,” he said, patting his belly.
“When’s the meeting?” Roen asked.
Dylan checked his watch. “In about five hours. Middle of the night while we sleep.”
Roen scowled. “Oh, one of those meetings.”
Dylan nodded. “Yep, it’s their world now. We’re only living in it, mate.”
 
There was a click and a soft beep, and then an electronic female voice chirped over the speaker phone in a bored tone. “Meeting place 41223 open for thirty minutes.”
Tao looked over at Yen curiously who, controlling the sleeping Dylan, shrugged. “Cost cutting measure. Free for the first half hour.”
“Quite a security risk using a public line.” Tao didn’t like stating the obvious, but in this case, felt someone had to do it.
“One we have to take,” the Keeper’s voice came across the line irritably. “Physical data centers can no longer be secured and with the Genjix influence everywhere, contracting a private third party is an acceptable risk.”
“If the Genjix wish to troll the entire Internet to find us then by all means they are free to try,” Yen added.
“But a free public channel?” Tao demanded. “That is just reckless.”
“Tao, I do not know what that host of yours has done to you but ever since–”
“Can you all save singing Roen’s praises for when I’m not here? He is still my husband after all,” Jill’s voice piped up. “Paula’s here as well.”
“Cheers, everyone!” Paula chirped. “I see we’re all one big happy family again. Yen, it’s bloody good to hear from you. The stories of your demise have been greatly exaggerated.”
“I do not suppose we can have the ladies take a nap, so we can speak with Baji and Yol,” Tao said.
“Sorry, love,” Paula replied. “Jill and I have a dinner date. We’re going out for sushi.”
BOOK: The Deaths of Tao
13.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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