Vital Force (14 page)

“We can't. Not without three. My friend was our in. We can't just walk in.”

“Why not? There are no fences. No guards.” Jake didn't believe his own words; he was just trying to test her knowledge and resolve.

“What is not there is not always seen. What is seen is not always there.”

“Sounds like a Taoist conundrum to me,” Jake said.

Her eyes looked hurt, as if he had just insulted her.

“That was a joke,” Jake assured her.

“I don't get it.”

Jake didn't have time to explain himself.

Suddenly, the domed observatory came to life. First, there was the 180 degree twist. Then the top of the dome opened. Not like a normal observatory, with just enough room for the large telescope to swivel across the sky, but this dome retracted back like an eyelid opening from a deep sleep.

Jake took a couple of shots.

Next, something rose up from inside the observatory. It looked almost like an industrial robot that would spot-weld cars on an assembly line.

One more shot.

The robot-like contraption adjusted back and forth, as if it was confused.

By the time Jake or Su knew what they were hearing, it was over. Jake had continued shooting shots one after the next. But he wasn't sure what he was shooting. Nor was he sure what was happening in the compound below.

And then, as if a magician was finally revealing his trick, things became more clear to Jake.

High above, the clouds had opened for just a moment. Just long enough for Jake to see the object crossing the sky.

Then came the explosion. And Jake got the shot.

“What just happened?” Su asked him.

Jake didn't answer right away. Maybe he wasn't entirely certain himself. However, seeing the dome on the observatory cover the robot object again, he was more certain.

“That, my friend, was a near miss by a ground-based laser on a flying object at about twenty thousand feet.”

“But it blew up.”

“That's right. But there was too much delay. From the time they powered up the laser to the explosion was too long. It should have happened much sooner. That was an abort. Self destruct. Did you see how the laser jerked about trying to acquire the target?”

“Yeah.”

“That's a software problem,” he said. “Looks like they have the laser working, but they still can't tell it what to do.”

“I don't understand. I thought we were just verifying a missile site that could strike the U.S. west coast.”

Damn. They had really kept her in the dark, Jake thought.

“What does this mean?” she continued.

There wasn't time to answer her. Without warning, the compound below was full of activity. Soldiers in civilian clothes ran about. Then one pointed in their direction.

“Shit,” Jake said, grabbing her arm. “Let's go.”

Slinging their backpacks on, they ran in the direction from which they had come. How had they known? Jake had no idea. They must have had a broad array of motion sensors. How was not important, he knew. All that mattered was his reaction.

He smashed his way through the trees, and he could feel Su right on his heels.

Beijing

They were only to meet on the north shore of Yuyuan Lake if something serious had happened.

Special Agent Brian Armstrong had called his contact, Steve Anderson, from the conservative think tank, and simply said, “Time for a swim.” Then he had hung up.

In the darkness on the lake shore, Armstrong leaned against a large oak. During the day, he thought, the place was one of the most pleasant parks in Beijing. But at night it was a different story. Darkness shrouded the entire shoreline and cast shadows outward to the lake from the surrounding buildings, which were low and dark, but for a few lights. If he looked carefully, now that his eyes had adjusted, Armstrong could see movement. A man? He pushed himself closer to the tree. He had only a butterfly knife in his pocket, which he ran through the fingers on his right hand.

He tried his best to control his breathing, but he feared he was failing miserably. He wanted to pull out his inhaler and take a shot, but the shadow was too close.

Then he felt a hand touch him.

“That water has to be cold,” his contact said quietly.

“Not as cold as the air,” Armstrong answered. “You're late.”

“I was in the hot tub.”

“Must be nice.”

“I can't wait to get back. What's up?”

Armstrong looked about, not seeing or hearing anything unusual. “There was an explosion up north. We think it was a test.”

“Damn. Was it successful?”

“We don't know.”

“Any word from our man up there?”

“That's why I'm here,” Armstrong said, trying his best not to get outwardly disturbed. “He should have contacted you by now. You haven't heard a thing?”

“I would have told you,” Anderson assured him defiantly. “What's goin' on here?”

Armstrong let out a deep breath and almost coughed. Then he finally pulled out his inhaler and took a long draw on it. Almost instantly he could breathe again.

“Our man in Harbin is dead,” Armstrong forced out.

“Adams is dead?”

“No. Our Chinese contact. The programmer from Stanford.” Armstrong was getting disturbed now, wondering if Anderson had lost his mind.

“How?”

“Beaten to death. Cut. Tortured.”

“What about Adams and the girl?”

“Got away. But no word. The police are after them.”

“We've gotta pull Adams,” Anderson said. “He's compromised.”

“We don't know that. He could be in the mountains right now. Besides, we have no way of pulling him.”

Anderson laughed. “GPS.”

“What?”

“He can be tracked by a GPS transceiver we planted in the backpack handle.”

“And you didn't tell us?”

“Need to know.”

“I needed to know.”

“Now you do.”

There was a slight noise off behind the both of them, some fifty feet away. An animal maybe.

“Here,” Anderson said, passing the Agency officer a piece of paper, which he would have to wait to read. “The GPS code to locate Adams. As I'm sure you know, turn it on only for a couple of seconds at a time. The signal goes both ways. The Chinese could pick up on it without too much trouble.”

“Thanks,” Armstrong breathed heavily.

“No problem. Can I get back to my hot tub now?”

“Yeah.”

With that, Anderson patted the Agency man on his arm and headed off into the darkness.

Armstrong waited a few seconds and then started off. Then he heard it. A struggle? A release of air?

In the shroud of black, Armstrong shuffled toward the noise. Then, without warning, he tumbled over something and landed on his hands, then his face. He shook his head and moved his hands about the icy ground. His right hand touched something. A leg? His hand reached up until it settled on a warm, wet, sticky substance. Blood. Damn it. He wiped his hand on the frozen ground, and then scooted toward the person's head.

“Steve,” he whispered, and then tilted his head toward the man's face.

But there was no sound that would come from him again. All he heard was a gurgling of frothy blood from the man's lungs. He checked for a carotid pulse. Nothing.

Then it kicked in. The adrenaline of fear. He could be next. He scanned the entire area around him, but he could see nothing more than shadows. He pulled out his butterfly knife and flipped it open with ease. He tried to use distant lights as a reference point. Anybody who crossed them and he would at least see the silhouette.

There. A figure moved swiftly across his view.

Armstrong took chase. He kept low, the lights out in front of him.

Soon he reached Fucheng Road, which was deserted at this late hour. Across and skirting into an alley, he saw the figure again.

At first he wasn't sure what was happening to him. He felt his heart trying to escape through his mouth, which was wide open and struggling for each new breath. His head got lighter and his knees buckled.

Seconds later he was on his butt in the frozen grass alongside the road, one hand clutching his knife and the other rifling through his pocket for his inhaler. Finally he found it and took a long shot into his mouth.

Then came the sirens heading in his direction.

He looked down at his bloody hand and his butterfly knife and realized he had to get the hell out of there.

Pulling himself to his feet, he shuffled across the road toward his car.

Eugene, Oregon

The rain had slowed some, but the sun was nowhere in sight. Cliff Johansen was like a trapped animal. He knew that Li had her gun ready with one swift motion, and he also knew she was willing to use it. My God, he thought, she had just killed his old college buddy as if he were a bug. No emotions. No regret. Would she do the same to him? Especially once she got what she needed?

They sat in the white Trooper now in the parking lot of the downtown branch of the Bank of the Pacific. He was numb.

“Just like last time,” Li said. “We transfer the money and you get the program from your safe deposit box. I will shoot you.” She left it at that.

He was sweating now. He rubbed the palms of his hands together and then wiped them on his pants. “Why'd you have to kill Jimmy?”

“I don't have to do anything but return with this DVD and a way to access the files.” She tapped the DVD in the side pocket of her leather coat. Then she looked down and noticed something. “Damn. Rain fucked up my leather. Should make you buy me a new one.”

“I'll send you the money with the encryption scheme,” Cliff said.

“Enough bullshit,” she said. “The bank will close in half hour. Let's go.”

The two of them got out and shuffled through the parking lot toward the back door. Once inside, Cliff stopped and looked around.

“What wrong?” she asked. “This your bank. You should know where everything at.” She grabbed his arm and squeezed at a spot behind his biceps.

He cringed. “It's been a while, all right?” He nodded his head and they walked to a young woman at a desk.

●

Just behind Cliff and the Asian woman, Special Agent Harris made her way to a center stand and started filling out a withdrawal form. Then she patted her pockets and started searching her purse, her eyes trying to keep from making full contact with her two subjects behind her.

She pulled out her cell phone and punched in a number. Two rings later, Agent Fisher answered in the car outside.

“Honey, I forgot the savings book,” she said.

When she got a nasty look from the woman across from her, she made a sorry gesture and then turned her back, lowering her voice. Now she could watch Cliff and the Asian woman.

“You call me Honey again and I might shoot you,” Fisher said on the other end of the phone. “So, what are they up to this time?”

She whispered now. “Sitting down with a bank official. Looks like another electronic transfer.” Then she said more loudly, “It might be on the kitchen counter.” She glanced back, her hand on the phone, and said to the woman, “Sorry. Thank God the sex is great.”

The woman smiled and went to the next teller.

“I heard that,” Fisher said. “And how'd you know?”

“Focus, Dear. Our man just got up to go somewhere with the banker. The woman is looking right at me. Better go.” Then she said louder, “Thanks, Honey. You saved me.”

She flipped the phone shut and turned back to the table to fill out her form.

●

In the vault, Cliff kept looking back to see if Li had followed them.

The young bank official, who looked no more than twenty-five, had a concerned expression on her face. “Is everything all right, Mr. Johansen?”

He turned to her. “Yes. I'm sorry. No. No, everything is not all right.”

“You can get a larger size for only thirty dollars more a year,” she said. “Would that be better?”

He moved toward the vault door, glanced back, and then turned to her. “Is there some sort of panic button back here? An alarm?”

Now the young woman was afraid. “You don't have a gun, do you? I've only worked here a month.”

“No. I don't,” he said. “But my friend out there does. And she'll kill us both if she knows I'm even discussing this with you.”

She was silent, biting her upper lip. “But she just transferred five hundred thousand into your account. Why would she be trying to rob the bank?”

Cliff shook his head. “You don't understand. She's not trying to rob you. She wants something from me. If I give it to her she might not kill me. If I don't give it to her, she will kill me. But she might just kill me for the hell of it no matter what I do. Do you understand?”

Her eyes shifted toward the door. “So, you want the cops to show up and arrest her?”

“That would help,” he said to her, “but then I might be in more trouble.”

“The half a million.”

“Right. That's part of it. What should I do?”

She shook her head. “You're asking me? I dropped out of college last year. I...I don't know.”

Cliff thought hard, sweat dripping from his forehead. He was stuck. If he went with her, she'd kill him either way, he was sure of that. If he called the cops in on her, one of her associates would come after him. Maybe he should just give her the encryption scheme here in the bank. Then he could refuse to leave. Being in public, she couldn't pull the gun on him. It might work. He checked his watch.

“You close in fifteen minutes?”

She nodded her head. “A lot of people get paid on Fridays and they want us open later.”

“All right,” he said. “Here's what I want you to do.” He explained his plan to her, hoping she wouldn't freeze when he needed her. Then the two of them headed out into the lobby.