Point of Contact

Jack ran back into the kitchen, socks soaking wet, water dripping onto the floor from his jacket. He pulled out his cell phone. No texts from Paul, no e-mails, no voice mails, no missed calls.

Jack punched the speed dial for Paul. The phone rang. It went to voice mail.

“Paul, where the hell are you? Call me as soon as you get this. You all right, buddy? I’m worried.” Jack hung up.

What to do? His phone rang.

“Paul?”

“Sorry, just me,” Gavin said. “You want me to call back?”

“No, Gav. Sorry. What’s up?”

“Those photos you sent? The fingerprints? Man, what have you got yourself into?”

“What did you find out?”

“Three of the guys came up zilch. I think I know why. The fourth I found — but it wasn’t easy. In fact, it was a real bitch. I don’t know how many DoD alarms I might have tripped getting it, either.”

“If it wasn’t easy for you, Gav, it would’ve been impossible for anybody else.”

“That’s nice of you to say, Jack. It’s totally true, of course. But still nice.”

Jack bit his tongue. “So, what did you find?”

“The one hit I got was for a character named Wang Kai, age fifty-one or thereabouts. He’s a colonel in a PLA SOF unit, currently attached to Department Fifteen in the Ministry of State Security. His last known location was in Damascus as a so-called diplomatic liaison to the Assad regime.”

“How in the hell were you able to hack into the PLA and MSS databases?”

“I wish I could, but I didn’t. I just used my NSA back door to access the DoD mainframes. Turns out this Wang Kai guy attended a U.S. Army training program in 1998—an officer-exchange deal, back when we were trying to cozy up to the ChiComs. Anyway, the DIA guys were lifting fingerprints and DNA samples from cups, towels, silverware, and anywhere else they could get them from all of those visiting PLA comrades in the exchange programs. Photos, too. Of course, your guy was a lot younger then. He’s a real badass. Or at least he was — until you wasted him.”

“I didn’t tell you I killed him.”

“He looked deader than a doornail to me, and I doubt he would have voluntarily given you any of his fingerprints unless they were attached to a large-caliber bullet.” Gavin chuckled. “Unless you’re claiming you just found those four dead guys.”

“You should’ve been a detective.”

“It’s not hard to guess that Wang’s three friends were either PLA or MSS as well. They just weren’t in any of our databases.”

“Good work, Gavin. I appreciate it.”

“Oh, there’s more.”

“Shoot.”

“That license plate you sent me? On the truck?”

“A rental, stolen, or both.”

“Why do I even bother.”

“Because you care so deeply.”

“Well, you asked for it.”

“And I appreciate it. I just wanted to confirm what I suspected.”

“So back to my other question, Jack. What have you gotten yourself into?”

“I’m handling it.”

“Four dead Chinese spies can only lead to more live ones, and pretty pissed off. They’re not exactly the forgiving types.”

“Anything else you can tell me?”

“Maybe we should read Gerry in on this.”

“You tell Gerry anything and I’ll blood-eagle your ass.”

“Nice Vikings reference, Jack.”

“I try. And by the way, I’m not effing kidding.”

Silence on Gavin’s end. Finally, “Okay. I’ll keep quiet — for now.”

“One more favor. Can you ping Paul’s phone?”

“Why? Did he lose it?”

“You ask too many questions.”

“Gimme a second.”

Jack heard keys tapping on the other end of the line.

“Found it.”

“Where?”

“About fifteen feet behind you, and to your left.”

Jack headed for the kitchen. Paul’s phone was on the counter. The text display read Hendley Associates. Jack turned it off.

“Find it, Jack?”

“Yeah. Now help me find Paul.”

HENDLEY ASSOCIATES

ALEXANDRIA, VIRGINIA

Gavin muted the Bluetooth device planted in his ear as he thumped across his office floor with his booted broken foot, checking the hallway to make sure no one had been listening. He shut his door.

He wasn’t sure what he should tell Jack about Paul. Neither Paul nor Jack knew that he’d been working for both of them. In fact, Paul had demanded he not tell Jack about their working together in order to protect Jack. Isn’t that why Paul had him send that capture software?

But now it was Paul who was in trouble. And maybe he was to blame.

“Gavin? You there?” Jack spoke in his earpiece.

Gavin unmuted. “Yeah, Jack. I’m here.”

“Did you hear what I said? I need you to help me find Paul.”

“Yeah, I heard you.”

Jack was silent for a moment. “What aren’t you telling me, Gavin?”

Gavin fell into his chair. “Paul and I were working on a project together.”

“You mean apart from his work in Singapore?”

“Mmm, not exactly.”

“What exactly?”

“Paul asked me to write him a piece of capture software.”

“Capture software? To capture what?”

“He never said. But it was something on a USB. An encryption code.”

“Why?”

“He didn’t say.”

“And you just wrote it for him? Hell, Gavin, if I’d known you had that much spare time, I could’ve found something interesting for you to do.”

“Technically, I didn’t write it. I mean, I jazzed it up a little, but the main code I got from somewhere else.”

“So tell me why you got this for him again?”