“Good. Listen to me very carefully…”
81
In 1993, the Department of Defense established a set of directives and reporting protocols designed to allow rapid response to national incidents and emergencies. Three of these directives established a list of emergency flag words capable of activating the highest level of command structure within both the Department of Defense and National Command Authority.
One such flag word, Pinnacle, was designed to launch the highest level of military command to immediately preserve the security and national interests of the United States. Another accompanying code known by many was called Broken Arrow.
However, unlike the rest of the major military commands, the CIA was not bound by the Department of Defense directives. Instead, the agency maintained a set of its own protocols, designed as emergency responses within its international intelligence network.
Over the years, several such protocols had been activated though limited in scope.
But one had not.
One protocol, known only by the cryptonym of CLOWER was the international equivalent of the DoD’s “Pinnacle.”
And Andrew Hayes would be the first Director in CIA history to invoke it.
Once authorized, CLOWER took less than fifteen minutes to activate. The signals were sent in a fraction of a second, but the logistics were immense. Every warden, ambassador, and CIA agent in the world was on their phone or computer, arranging for the immediate evacuation of thousands of CIA operatives. Agents who had infiltrated nearly every branch of foreign government throughout Central Asia, along with their spouses and children, had less than one hundred and twenty minutes. A mere two hours to make it to an airport or an American embassy where passports and travel documents would be waiting.
Two hours… because once their covers were blown, the ripple effect would be unstoppable.
82
John Clay looked wearily at Qin and finally nodded his head. Immediately, Qin dismissed his soldiers and waited impatiently for them to leave the room.
Through the beatings, he’d watched with satisfaction the precise moment when Clay finally broke. Every man had his limit. Something Qin knew through experience in the MSS. No one could last forever.
He knelt down in front of Clay and pulled his head up by his thick dark hair. “I will show you mercy,” he whispered. “You have my word.”
He watched as Clay tried to nod again. His lips trembled and his eyes rolled back from the pain. He tried once more but still couldn’t respond. The American simply couldn’t concentrate through the agony.
Qin exhaled and retrieved a knife from his belt. He then grabbed one of the ropes suspending Clay and began cutting through it. When he severed the last strand, Clay’s right side collapsed, swinging sideways. His body now dangled by a single rope.
“Better?”
Clay came to a stop and hung there motionlessly. Only his chest moved while he breathed.
“Now tell me,” Qin said, squatting down again. “What is in this case?”
Clay whispered. “A microorganism… stops aging.”
Qin’s eyes widened. “It stops aging?”
Clay nodded weakly.
The MSS agent stared at Clay in disbelief. That’s what Xinzhen was after? An organism that would stop him from aging? That’s what it was all about? He looked back to Clay. “This organism is from the plants in South America?”
“Yes.”
An astounded Qin shook his head and stood up. It was more than he had dreamed. And yet it all made sense — why Xinzhen wanted it so badly, why he told him so little about what General Wei was doing, and why Wei tried to hide it after destroying the cargo ship on its way home from Guyana. Xinzhen and Wei had hidden their discovery from nearly everyone, and even murdered the soldiers they forced to excavate it. God, it all made sense.
Qin shook himself from his trance and watched Clay’s nearly lifeless body as it hung from one arm. His still eyes staring at the floor. He was practically dead already.
Qin withdrew his gun and gripped it carefully in his opposite hand. He was surprised at the man before him. One of the U.S. Navy’s legendary SEALs. He was tough, but not as tough as Qin had expected. The man simply did not live up to the reputation. Where was the American arrogance now?
He’d known men, lesser men, who had lasted longer than this American. It was truly emblematic of the waning might of a once great nation. The might of the United States was fading. And the rise of China was just beginning.
He stepped closer to Clay and shook his head in pity. “I gave you my word.” With that, he raised his left hand up and pointed the gun.
Hanging by one arm, Clay remained still. The pain was overwhelming, making it hard to think.
His situation was nearly hopeless. Which meant this was no time for bravado. Instead, he had to outwit Qin.
The first priority had been to find a reason for them to be alone. The second was to get Qin as close as possible. And then to get an arm free. What came next was the last thing Qin ever expected.
Almost every part of his body screamed in pain. But Clay was not motionless because he couldn’t move. He was motionless for a very different reason. He had been quietly testing each muscle to determine just how much strength he had left.
He didn’t have enough to get out alive, but he might have enough left in the very last of his reserves for one last effort.
To take Qin with him.
83
What Qin didn’t know as he pointed the gun at Clay was that the American was waiting. For the right moment. Because when Clay finally moved, it came as a complete surprise.
In one motion, Clay slapped the gun from Qin’s hand and suddenly leaped forward on his broken leg. In a blur, his arm rocketed up, gripped the man’s throat like a vice and squeezed.
Qin’s gun rattled across the concrete floor and his eyes bulged in shock, still trying to comprehend what had happened. But not before he got out the beginning of a scream.
It was a sound that Qin’s men heard from the other side of the door.
An already sinking Clay watched them emerge while the last of his energy began to fade. With clenched teeth, he squeezed harder, giving every last ounce of strength he had left. He ignored the soldier sprinting toward him with the butt of his gun raised. Instead, he tried to tighten one last time before his arm was knocked away and he fell back to the floor.
Qin stumbled back, gasping for air. His frantic eyes searched the floor. When he couldn’t find his gun, he pointed at Clay and wheezed.
“Shoot him!”
Several feet away, the squad’s leader frowned, and kept his eyes fixed on Clay. “We should keep him alive.”
“I said shoot him!”
“That doesn’t seem wise,” retorted the soldier, defiantly.
At that moment a sharp tone sounded. All eyes turned to the squad leader who ripped open a secret pocket, pulling out a small electronic pager.
He stared at the code on the tiny screen in stunned disbelief. He read it again carefully before raising his eyes back to Qin.
“What the hell is that?”
The man stared down at Clay for a long moment. Without a word, he raised his gun and pointed it. Not at Clay, or even Qin, but at his own men. He then made a motion with his head. “Guns down.”
All six men stared at him in confusion.
“I said guns down!”
They blinked at him, still stunned. But one by one each man dropped his rifle loudly onto the floor.