“If we can address your concerns, will you agree to work with us?”
Rojas shifted in his chair. “Yes.”
Chase knew the game at this point. Let him talk, address every issue, keep him saying that magical word… yes. These CIA men were both salesmen and purchasers. Buying information. Selling whatever the asset required: money, ego, peace of mind.
Rojas said, “I know the technology that I have developed is extremely valuable. If the world was not consumed by war, maybe I could have patented it and licensed the rights to a large company. My wife and I could have lived off the profits, sipping drinks on a beach for the rest of our lives.” The scientist looked off into the distance. “Alas, we do not live in the world of the past.”
“We will pay you handsomely for your work, Mr. Rojas,” said the deputy station chief.
“The Chinese said the same thing.”
The station chief spoke in a soothing tone. “Mr. Rojas, I understand your concerns. There is a big difference between the two sides of this war. Chinese soldiers are currently marching in the streets of Caracas. It’s possible that someday soon they’ll be all over South America, including here. Let me ask you a question. Do you think that if the Chinese ruled this country, you would be able to patent and license your work? Sip piña coladas on a beach somewhere? No way. It would go to the Communist party technology inspection division, and four factories would be producing identical materials within a year. All of your hard work would be wasted. Any claim to ownership would vanish as the Chinese government comes to control more and more territory.”
The deputy station chief chimed in, “The irony of communism is that it’s the least fair system there is.”
Rojas nodded. “Yes, yes. I understand this. And I want democracy to survive.” Then he shook his head. “But it’s not just about the money. It’s about how my discovery will be used. Your country and the Chinese will bring war and all the horrible things that come with it to the world. You have already launched nuclear weapons.”
“Mr. Rojas, that was defensive in nature…”
He held up his hand. “I have read American accounts about what happened. I understand your argument. But I also understand the enormous potential of what I have developed. My ceramic coating has the ability to more than double hypersonic weapon speeds as they reach their point of impact, while protecting the internal components from overheating. This, as you say, is a game-changer. I know this. I am proud of my work. And I am worried. I do not want to be known for ushering in the next era in warfare. There are many applications for this technology beyond military use. Killing on a mass scale is not what I want to be remembered for.”
Chase leaned forward. “If I may say something, Mr. Rojas. I’ve seen war on several continents now. Eighteen months ago, I watched as North Korea invaded South Korea. I flew out just as the North Koreans began using poison gas weapons on civilians. I was lucky to survive. In Japan I watched as Chinese missiles hit targets in and around Tokyo. These so-called precision-guided missiles destroyed military and civilian targets alike. I agree with you that war should be avoided at all costs.”
“Exactly.” Rojas’s eyes were transfixed on Chase. “Yes, you understand.”
“But I also know that there is justification for war, in some circumstances. This is one of those times. America is a freedom-loving nation. For our country, this war is a last resort. We fight not for the expansion of our economic well-being, as China now does, but for the preservation of justice. All sides are not equally just. There is right and wrong in this world. There is good and evil. I promise you, the technology you developed will someday be used in hypersonic weapons. Now, whether it is you or another research team who makes that happen, is up to you. Your research can’t prevent the war from spreading. But you have a unique ability to help speed up the war’s end, and reduce the number of deaths. You have a chance to help choose the outcome of the war. And if you work with us now, you will do so knowing that you gave your life’s work to the right side of history.”
Rojas remained silent, looking at the Americans.
Then he took a deep breath. “If I agree, I will need to take my wife with me to America.”
The CIA station chief nodded. “Done.”
Rojas said, “It is not so easy for me. I will agree with you now. But I will need to speak with my wife. She doesn’t want to go. She and I must discuss this together, but I think I can convince her. Give me the evening to speak with her. We can travel back here first thing in the morning.”
Chase looked at the two CIA men.
The deputy station chief said, “I’ll go with him and take Mike. We’ll provide security and meet back up here tomorrow morning.”
The station chief nodded. Then the group stood, shaking hands.
4
Victoria's helicopter flew racetrack patterns on the port side of the USS Ford. She glanced out her window as they passed the massive ship. Through her tinted visor, she could just make out her father, standing upright in his admiral’s uniform on vulture’s row. A pair of F-35s screamed overhead. The fighters performed the break maneuver, banking hard to the left, then slowing, their landing gear and flaps coming down as they circled to land on America’s newest aircraft carrier.
Her radios blared a warning from the other submarine-hunters a few miles away. The American anti-submarine warfare personnel calling out information about the threat.
Bearing and range to the contact. Up-doppler.
Victoria tried to talk but couldn’t. Her lip mike wasn’t working. She shouted out but couldn’t hear her own voice. She tried to maneuver the aircraft, but her hands were stuck in a cement grip on her flight controls.
She looked down at her display screen, seeing the enemy submarine closing in. Five hundred yards from the carrier. How had it gotten so close? Moments earlier she had dropped her torpedo in the perfect position. They had heard a detonation. She had executed a textbook attack.
But it wasn’t…
The radio called out more warnings. Victoria turned to look out her cockpit window again, only this time she saw something different.
The New York City skyline at night.
A bright white flash burst in the sky overhead, and the lights of the world went out.
Victoria looked back down into her cockpit. She tried and failed to move her hands on the controls, then gazed once more out her helicopter window. The city was gone, but she could still see her father standing on the aircraft carrier’s highest bridge wing.
He was staring up at her.
More radio calls from the maritime patrol aircraft nearby. She glanced at the ASW information on her tactical display. The submarine was hiding underwater, right next to the carrier. Hunting her father.
From the back of the helicopter, her aircrewman cried out for her to look to her ten o’clock. White streaks of smoke raced across the sky, arcing overhead and slamming into the aircraft carrier, detonating in the place where her father stood…
And she could do nothing but watch.
Victoria woke up to the sound of her stateroom phone ringing. She reached over and pulled the black plastic receiver off the wall mount and held it to her ear.
“Commander Manning.”
“Skipper, your brief is in thirty minutes, ma’am.”
“Roger. Thank you.”
Victoria hung up the phone and sighed. Her palms were sweaty.
She kicked her legs over and rolled out of her rack. She flipped on the LED light above her sink, and the room illuminated. Victoria zipped herself into her dark green flight suit, wrapped the laces of her steel-toe boots once around her ankles to take out the slack, and then double-knotted them. She splashed water on her face, looking at herself in the mirror.