Howard’s image nodded. “Commander, I understand Net Force recently received a request by the Army for help regarding an unexpected problem with the military’s VR exercises.”
“That’s correct, General,” Thorn said. “We were up to our ears in work — somebody in the Internet Fraud Complaint Center and the National White Collar Crime Center dropped a ball and asked us to take up the slack.”
“Yes, sir. Well, the problem has gotten worse, and the Army’s experts haven’t been able to pin it down.”
“I’ve heard that, too,” Thorn said, frowning. After a moment he added, “So why are you calling about this, John?”
Howard hesitated, then said, “An old friend in the Pentagon thought I might be able to help.”
“Is lobbying part of your consulting now?”
Howard smiled. “Personal touch never hurts.”
Thorn smiled, too. “True,” he said. “I’ll see if I can shake some help loose to take a look at the military’s problem. I can’t promise anything — seems as if we are being nibbled to death by little fishes here lately.”
Howard didn’t reply, but he didn’t move to break the connection, either.
“Something more, John?” Thorn asked.
Howard nodded, all trace of humor gone from his face. “Sir, the powers that be at the DoD were concerned that Net Force might not consider this a priority item.”
Thorn sighed. “What can I say? You worked here, you know how it goes. Running errands for the DoD is not in our mission statement. We’re a civilian organization under the direction of the FBI, with a little National Guard in the mix.”
“Yes, sir, but the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs is involved with this. The man is used to getting his way.”
It wasn’t the most subtle threat Thorn had ever heard. He felt an immediate, almost reflexive, pulse of anger.
“Well, I appreciate the heads-up, and General Hadden certainly has the clout to make us dance. It wouldn’t be a good idea for him to thump us too hard with it, though. Unhappy workers don’t always do the best job.”
“No, sir.” Howard paused again, but not quite as long this time. “Commander,” he said, “I think it would be a good idea if we met. There are some things I know that you need to know — material I would rather talk about face-to-face.”
Thorn felt a sudden chill. That didn’t sound good.
“Okay. What’s good for you?”
“I can be there in an hour.”
“That fast?”
“Yes, sir. Some grains, the military grinds slow and fine. Some, they chop quick and coarse. Bread is about to be baked, and in your oven.”
“Come on in, General. And, John?”
“Commander?”
“Thanks again. I appreciate it.”
Howard discommed and Thorn sat back in his chair, staring at the blank screen. He didn’t like the sound of this at all. Maybe he had time to step down the hall to the gym and do a little épée work before the general arrived. Never hurt to be relaxed when problems arrived, and he had a feeling one was about to do just that…
Comrade General Wu stood in his office, staring out the window. From here you could see the lights of the casinos. Tonight’s rain turned them into blurry, distant smears of neon and glare.
A pretty sight, but Wu hated them.
Billions of dollars ran through those buildings each year. Like it or not, capitalism was here to stay. Even many of the hard-liners had agreed when the concept of property rights had been put into the Chinese constitution a decade ago. Wu shook his head. Only a fool could still pretend that Communism was going to win out in the end, and whatever else Comrade General Wu might be, he was not a fool.
His secretary buzzed him on the intercom.
“Comrade General, Comrade Shing is here.”
“Send him in.”
Wu went back to his chair and sat, keeping his back straight, his posture that of a soldier. Shing was a civilian, and while he was Wu’s man for a number of reasons, not the least of which was money, civilians were unpredictable. Wu needed him, no question, but he didn’t have to like the man. Shing represented much that Wu detested.
Not that Wu would ever let even a hint of his feeling about this shine through.
“Comrade General,” Shing said, offering a cursory military bow.
“Comrade Shing,” Wu said, staying in his seat and returning the nod with just a hair less angle. “Please, have a seat.”
Shing sat. The chair facing the desk was comfortable, excessively so. Wu knew men of the old school who thought a hard wooden chair or even a backless bench was better for visitors, to keep them on edge, but Wu was not of that mind. A man who was comfortable and relaxed was more apt to reveal his true nature.
One did not have real power without access to truth.
Shing was a computer expert, in his twenties, educated at MIT in the United States, and as sharp as a master butcher’s favorite boning knife. Shing had gone to America young, learned the language, the culture, and, more importantly, as much about the computer business as anybody. Wu did not trust him as far as he could spit against a cyclone, but he needed good tools, and Shing at least was Chinese, of a good family, and somewhat loyal to the homeland. He was also a genius in the ways of modern electronica, and that was a prime consideration.
Wu hated computers and the cultures that had spawned them. The West was corrupt in so many ways a man could spend half his life just listing them aloud. They had no tradition, no honor, no chi, nothing that set a truly civilized society apart from the barbarians. Yes, yes, Communism was a bankrupt philosophy, Wu knew that, but the vestiges of it continued in China, and if you wanted to be a force, you had to deal in it and with it. It would not always be so. Fifty, a hundred, two hundred years? Mere heartbeats in the dragon’s breast. China herself abided, she absorbed all, in time.
Wu intended to help China recover her glory and status. She was well on the way, but he would provide a small boost.
History was full of men who, when they acted at the proper moment with the proper motion, had swung the course of events in new directions. Wu would be one of those men. He had spent half his life gathering the proper tools, and if he had to use one such as Shing, so be it. There were times when you fought fire with water, and times when you did it with fire. However distasteful Shing’s manner and mores, he was what Wu needed to go up against the Americans.
One did not need to love the arrow one shot into the enemy’s heart…
Wu initiated a few minutes of polite civility, Shing responded appropriately, and eventually they came around to the reason the younger man was here.
“Things are progressing well?” Wu asked.
“Oh, yeah,” Shing said. “The U.S. Army hacks don’t know what happened. Can’t find how I got in, haven’t a clue how to keep me out or undo what I’ve started.”
Wu kept his polite smile fixed firmly in place. “There will be no problems with keeping to the schedule, then?”
“None I can see.”
“And the… other thing?”
Shing raised his eyebrows. He gave away entirely too much on his face — more of the legacy of all those years in America. “Well, that will be trickier — CyberNation’s security ops are the best. Our attacks there must be flawless. Still, I can do it. And set them against each other.”
“Good. Well, then, I will let you be about your business.”
Shing nodded. “Thank you, Comrade General.” He paused. “Do you suppose I might have another… small advance on my… stipend? There is, ah, a young woman I have met I wish to take to the casinos.” He smiled.