These men lived in the glow of the most prized possession of alclass="underline" ultimate power. The one constant that eventually changed all men before enslaving them. Power was the greatest of all drugs. In monarchies, these men were kings. In Communism, they were dictators. In republics and democracies, they were politicians and generals.
And Langford was no exception. His family had sacrificed just like the rest, living most of their lives without a husband or father. A man who they knew more as an image than a person. Until he was saved.
It was the accident that changed it all — collision that suddenly put his teenage daughter into the Intensive Care Unit and a single phone call that shook him free from his enslavement. That night was a turning point and became his moment of clarity. For the next month, Langford and his wife rarely left their child’s bedside. His daughter eventually recovered, but Langford had been reformed. He remained a patriot, but he was no longer bound by a personal or political agenda. His agenda now was for his family first and then his country. And it was also why the double doors to his office read in very simple, and very small lettering: Chairman — Joint Chiefs of Staff.
Langford pushed the right side door open, nodding to Clay and Borger as they both stood up. They fell into step behind Langford, who paused only briefly to take a small stack of messages from his secretary’s outstretched hand before entering his office. He closed the door behind them and rounded his desk while his men each took a chair.
Clay could see the consternation on the Admiral’s face. “Everything okay?”
“No.”
Langford had just returned from his morning security briefing at the White House. Things were not okay. In fact, things were unraveling at a frightening pace. He leaned back into the thick leather chair and leveled his eyes at them.
“Our Chinese friends don’t give up easily. They’ve dispatched every single ship in the CRS, the first of which should reach Panama by tomorrow morning.”
“Salvage ships?”
“That’s right.”
Clay and Borger looked at each other. “They’re not going to recover the Bowditch?”
“No,” Langford shook his head. “They’re coming after the Corvette. Their warship never made it back to China.”
Now Clay and Borger were genuinely confused.
Langford sighed. “Two days after the attack on the Bowditch, a large area of debris was spotted off the coast of Rio de Janeiro. The Brazilians were the first to dispatch a salvage team, who now believes it’s the remains of the Chinese Corvette and the Forel. It appears both boats were destroyed together.”
Borger was incredulous. “Wait. First the Bowditch was sunk by the Russian Forel, then we find out it was really the Chinese?”
“Correct.”
“Then the Russian sub and the Chinese warship are destroyed together?”
Clay raised an eyebrow. “Was it us?”
His question surprised Langford, nearly making him chuckle. “No, it wasn’t us. We had no one that far south.”
“Then who?”
“We believe it was the Chinese.”
“The Chinese?! The Chinese sank their own ship?”
“We think so.”
“That doesn’t make any sense!” Borger exclaimed. “Knowing what was on that Corvette, why on Earth would they sink it?”
Langford glanced at Clay, who was thinking again. He could almost watch Clay figure it out.
“A coup.”
Langford nodded. “We think so.”
“A coup?” Borger looked at Clay. “Inside China?”
“If the Corvette was sunk by one of their own, it could mean there’s a split inside the government.”
“Maybe within the Politburo,” Langford added.
“Or maybe the cargo wasn’t really on the ship,” Borger said.
Clay shook his head. “Then they wouldn’t be sending such a large salvage operation. It’s more likely the ship did have the plants onboard, but for some reason someone else inside their government sank it.”
“Then the question is why. Why would someone intentionally destroy the greatest discovery of the century?”
“Maybe revenge.”
Clay turned to Langford. “I don’t think so, sir. If there is an internal battle going on, both would have to know how valuable the Corvette’s cargo was.”
“So then, they either didn’t understand what exactly was on that warship, or they didn’t care.”
Clay leaned back in his chair. “But who wouldn’t care about that?”
“Okay,” Borger said, thinking out loud. “So, for whatever reason, the Chinese decide to blow up their own ship, which is packed full of a plant whose DNA is nothing short of a miracle. And now they’re sending a salvage team to recover whatever they can.”
“A recovery fleet,” Langford corrected.
“They’re not coming to recover a ship or a sub.”
The other two men looked at Clay.
“They’re coming to find any traces of that cargo.”
“Well, at least if we don’t have it, neither do they.”
Borger gave Clay a nervous look and raised a plain manila folder he had been holding. “Actually, sir. About that…” He leaned forward out of his chair and handed the folder to Langford over the desk.
“What’s this?”
“Pictures, sir.”
Langford opened it and began flipping through several full-size satellite images. He stopped on one and rotated it sideways. “Is this Georgetown?”
“Yes, sir.” Borger scooted forward. “It’s the airport. Just a couple hours before the Bowditch was attacked. This person drove from the Chinese Corvette to the airport where he boarded a Chinese Y-12.”
Langford examined the next photo. It was zoomed in to reveal more detail. “What’s in the case?”
Borger took a deep breath. “Sir, when John and I were aboard the Bowditch, Commander Neely Lawton talked about that plant’s DNA and what made it so valuable. It wasn’t just its properties and the ability to merge it together with human DNA through a bacteria. The most amazing thing was how easily it could be extracted with the right equipment. Something called a torque transducer. Or a nano-mag for short.”
Langford nodded. “Go on.”
“We’ve already established that the Chinese Corvette most likely didn’t attack the Bowditch because it couldn’t. They had to have hollowed the ship out to make enough room for all the material they trucked down from the mountain.” Borger shrugged. “So, if they were that prepared, they may very well have had a nano-mag onboard too.”
“And probably had already begun the extraction process,” added Clay.
Langford looked back at the man in the photo. “And you think that’s what’s in the case, the extracted DNA?”
“More specifically, the bacterial medium. It’s our best guess.”
“I presume you followed the path of this plane?”
“Yes, sir. And the man on it.”
“And they ended up where?”
“Beijing.”
Langford inhaled and leaned back again. “Perfect.” He ran his finger lightly over his lips, thinking. “So, if you’re right, and the Chinese already have at least some of the DNA in Beijing… why the giant recovery effort? Why send virtually every salvage ship they have?”
“The most obvious reason would be because they don’t know they have it,” Clay said.