The Politburo member said, “I agree. That is why I have asked to speak with you alone.”
The Chinese president shook his head, holding out his hands. “Why do the Americans keep pressing us on this? They must know that we are being truthful.”
“As I said, Mr. President, they have a very sophisticated intelligence apparatus. For my contacts in Washington to be reaching out to me for a third time and speaking to me in this manner is very unusual. Unless there is something to it. Something that you and I are not aware of.”
The Chinese president looked up. “The Americans are getting paranoid. They have been attacked and are about to go to war in the Middle East again.”
“And you think that explains this line of accusation, even through backchannel communications?”
“I truly don’t know. I just don’t understand why these rumors of Chinese meddling persist. There is too much for us to lose if we were to behave this way. The Central Committee would never jeopardize trade with the United States by allowing the kidnapping of American citizens. And for what, they say? For a few bits of classified information? And the American suggestion that we would support an Iranian attack on the United States is nothing short of preposterous.”
The Politburo member hesitated. He knew from previous conversations that the president trusted Cheng Jinshan implicitly. He had known Jinshan, a successful businessman and member of the Chinese intelligence community, for over two decades and had even appointed him as the head of an agency that would root out corruption in the Chinese government.
Most members of the Politburo considered Jinshan a patriot, someone who would always put the Chinese people first. But everyone had enemies. Some in Beijing would like nothing more than to see Jinshan gone. He had grown too powerful, they argued. The president was oblivious to this notion. To the president, he was an invaluable asset.
Jinshan’s work in the business and intelligence worlds often overlapped. His businesses were mainly information technology related. They created and operated data tracking software for China’s Internet-based companies. Some of Jinshan’s companies also oversaw the control and censorship of Chinese media. Many considered him a puppet master. He controlled the strings that influenced peoples’ thoughts.
“Mr. President, my US counterpart apologized to me for asking again. But many of us — our diplomats, intelligence operatives, and government leaders — are getting the same inquiry. So it is with great hesitation that I broach this subject with you. The Americans want to know if there could be any possible truth to the rumors that Cheng Jinshan has organized Chinese participation in the Iranian cyberattacks, and the holding of American citizens in the South China Sea island. They say that they have information leading them to believe that Cheng Jinshan is indeed involved.”
The president frowned. “How many times must we tell them? This is insulting.”
“I understand, sir. I apologize for bringing it up again.”
“We have gone to Jinshan and to our PLA generals. They were upset at the questioning.”
“Are you satisfied with ending it there, sir?”
The president locked eyes with the Politburo member, a trusted advisor, and whispered, “They would never keep anything like that from us. It would be treason.” The president sounded like he was trying to convince himself, more than anything.
The president looked out the window of his office. A peaceful scene outside. A well-trimmed garden. Giant goldfish making ripples in the surface of a quiet pond. The Chinese president sighed and said, “I am going to ask you a question that must never leave this room.”
“Of course, sir.”
“Do you think that there is any chance I am being lied to by my own people?”
The Politburo member noticed that he couldn’t bring himself to say Jinshan’s name. He chose his words carefully. “Sir, I think that… after this much consternation by the Americans… it would be prudent to have an outside party look into the matter.”
The Chinese president did not respond, so the Politburo member took that as a sign to continue. He said, “This would have to be done in a way that would not lead to us. But I find it most concerning that eighteen Americans are still reported missing, and that two of them claim to have been abducted by Chinese forces. It is very unlike the American government to make up such a claim.”
“Many of their newspapers are calling it conspiracy theory — lies.”
“Yes, sir, but my sources tell me that many in the American intelligence circles do not put stock in these media reports. They are still investigating the matter.”
The president nodded. “Without the situation in Iran, this would be dominating their newspapers.”
“I agree, sir.”
“In that respect, we are lucky.”
“Sir, do I have your permission to look into this some more? Outside of our normal channels?”
The president didn’t reply verbally, but he looked into the man’s eyes and nodded.
Just outside the president’s office, the steward pushed the teacart into a small kitchen area. She picked up her phone to check her messages.
Her phone was very warm. She hated when it was like that. It was almost hot. She tried to tell her husband that the battery must be broken and that he needed to fix it. But her husband just shook his head at her, saying that it was normal, as if she knew nothing about technology.
Her husband had texted her, telling her to pick up some pork at the market on her way home tonight. He was going to make dinner. She smiled, as he seldom cooked. Only on special occasions. She wondered if he had finally gotten the promotion at work that he so desperately wanted.
A jingle at the door told her that the Politburo member was leaving. She walked back in to see if the president needed anything else, leaving her phone on the cart.
The software program on the phone was one of the latest and most sophisticated in the CIA’s arsenal. A joint project with the NSA, the program could turn any phone into a very capable listening device.
The challenge hadn’t been placing the program on the phone. That had been relatively easy. What had been harder was finding the right phones to listen to. The stewardess had left her GPS location information active on her phone, however. While all the high-profile members of the Chinese government had secure phones that were protected from this type of surveillance, she did not.
It was easy for the NSA to cross-reference GPS coordinates with important government locations around the world. They used this information to identify which phones would serve as the best candidates to allow them to listen in on military, intelligence, and political leaders. It took a lot of juice to record and send all that data, which was why the phone was so warm to the touch.
While the CIA’s technical experts had to do a lot of ambient noise cleanup on the recording, they found — incredibly — that they could usually pick up the voices of the Chinese president from the next room when surveilling this stewardess’s phone.
Susan Collinsworth handed over the transcript. “Mr. Director, something interesting from one of our NSA collection reports.”
He took the purple folder stamped TOP SECRET/SCI and reviewed the printout of the translated conversation. He looked it over for a full minute.
“So, they really don’t know.”
“And they’re beginning to suspect the same thing we are.”
“That Jinshan isn’t the loyal Communist that he says he is?”
She nodded.