“I see.”
Locke knew at this point the casino manager to whom he was speaking would perhaps be raising an eyebrow in skepticism. Anybody could call him on the telephone and make such a claim — terrorists might attack, and if they do, don’t resist them — and how stupid would you feel if you did that and it was some kind of trick?
One did not get to run a multimillion-dollar endeavor by being slow of wit.
So Locke set the hook: “Please feel free to call Comrade General Wu’s office if you have any further questions about this matter, sir. The general would, of course, be more than happy to speak personally with a man of your standing. I have here his private number… ”
Nearly all of the casino managers made that call, which was indeed to a private number established for Wu, and any telephone checks would show it thus. The general hastened to assure the casino managers that yes, Colonel Han of the antiterrorist squad was acting under his direction. The situation was being addressed.
Later, Locke went to the casinos in his official uniform, and spoke in person to the managers. Word, of course, quickly filtered back to the police, but that had been the first call he had made — to tell the local authorities the same thing he’d told the casino managers. So if some forgetful security guard called the police? Well, they would know that this was a military operation and to stay away. The Army always ranked above the police force; no one questioned such things.
Locke was just a bit worried. Since he was certain that Leigh was in somebody’s custody, there was a chance that the man might reveal something of the plan. True, Leigh did not know all of it. He did not know how, neither did he know when it would happen, since the date had been moved up, so even if he spilled what he knew to a questioner, they would be late to the party. Still, it was vexsome, since he had told Wu that Leigh knew nothing of their scheme. It was better that way — no need to add to Wu’s worries. Nor to have him angry at Locke for letting Leigh know anything.
Of course, Wu himself had babbled the entire plan to his spy and mistress, and while she could be trusted to go along, hoping for a big payoff, if something went crooked, Locke didn’t trust her as far as he could spit. That she would give them up to save herself was a given.
Well. One had to play the cards one was given.
Ah, but here was an unexpected trump card, one that demonstrated where the beauty of having the local military commander in on the plan came forth. Mere hours after Locke visited this worry about Leigh again, his fake antiterrorist line had rung. The call was from a local senior police official. They had received a communication from the Chinese computer authority, and as a result, had arrested a British national here in Macao. Questioning had revealed nothing of use so far, but it might be possible that this man, a foreigner; was involved in the terrorist plot, yes?
Locke had almost laughed aloud. Yes, he had told the policeman, it was possible. The Army would like to question this prisoner. They would send men to collect him and transport him back to the base for interrogation. It was not a request.
The police were only too happy to comply.
Locke pulled in a couple members of his personal team, already outfitted as soldiers, wrote transfer papers on Wu’s official stationery, and sent them to collect Leigh. How perfect was that?
The police were going to turn the only man who could blow the whistle on Locke’s operation over to him!
Leigh, unfortunately, would have an accident shortly after he came into Locke’s custody. He was a loose end Locke had planned to wrap up anyway, and this just made it easier.
That done, there was nothing else to stop them, nothing.
35
Jay removed his rig, stripped the casters and sensor gear and mesh off, and just let it drop on the carpet. Later, he’d shove the sweaty mesh into the ultrasonic cleaner, and use dry-clean wipes on the bits that he couldn’t immerse in the ultrasound’s liquid, but for now, he just wanted to go and take a shower himself.
It hadn’t been pretty, but it was, at last, done.
No matter how good a scenario you could spin, running down the rascals that Shing had caused to infest the military and CyberNation computers was dull, grinding work. Like pulling crab grass up by the roots, or scrubbing a dirty floor, or maybe chipping barnacles off a ship’s hull. Each bit had to be done manually, and once removed, the place where it had been had to be sanded, smoothed, wiped, repainted — remade so that the chunk removed didn’t leave a gap or hole or whatever.
It was scut work, and not Jay’s thing, but it had to be done, it had to be done right, and it was his project.
But, finally, it was finished. As far as Jay could tell, all traces of the tampering done by Shing and his allies were no more.
His virgil beeped in its computer dock. Seurat.
“Good evening,” Seurat said when Jay accepted the connection.
“Hey.”
“How goes it?”
Jay managed a tired grin. “We got the guy, we got his modus, and I just finished cleaning it out. The military system — and yours — are as clean as new pennies. At least as far as this hack is concerned.”
“Très bon, Gridley! Excellent!”
“Just part of the job, Mr. Seurat.”
“But you must call me Charles, mon ami.”
“I must?”
“Oui.”
The man sounded way too happy, even though Jay had done him a good turn.
“Do you like Paris, my friend?”
“Sure.”
“Then you must come and visit. To a wedding.”
“Somebody getting married?”
“Yes. Me. I have met a wonderful woman — an American, no less. She is perfect, the most beautiful and intelligent and funny woman in the world.”
“Save one,” Jay said.
“Ah, you are married?”
“Yep. Got a baby son, too.”
“This is wonderful, no?”
“Yeah. It is. And after I take a shower, I’m going to go and spend some quality time with them. This has been a bastard of a case.”
“But you have solved it, and all is right with the world, no?”
“As close as it gets for me,” Jay said.
After he and Seurat broke the connection, Jay smiled. For him, all was right with the world. Or would be, right after he took a shower…
36
The Net Force 747, an old workhorse but one that still did the job, droned along six miles up. Kent came awake and looked around. About half of his unit was napping, the others reading or working on their battle laptops.
Kent had four squads, ten troopers each, and thus a single platoon. Each squad would be deployed in different parts of the operation — security, communications, transportation, with the actual strike team being six or eight strong. No way could he take enough troops into China to get into a shooting engagement with the Chinese Army.
In fact, the unit would technically be spies if they were caught, because they were all going to be in civilian clothes — an uninvited, uniformed force on foreign soil was sometimes necessary, but in this case, a bad idea.
Next to him, Julio Fernandez, who looked as if he were asleep, said, “General Howard is gonna be sorry he missed this.”
“Only if we don’t screw it up.”
Fernandez grinned. “Well, at least we can blame it on the jarheads if that happens. Sir.”
Kent shook his head.