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“It is.” Natesh looked down at the floor, defeated. “I can’t go back to them. I don’t know why I thought they were right. Their end state is inspiring. But I’ve seen enough death up close now. I’ve seen Lena Chou and Cheng Jinshan for what they truly are. And I don’t want to be a part of that.”

David tried hard to control his emotions. This guy had betrayed his country and nearly gotten David killed. He was complicit in conspiracy, and his contributions to Jinshan’s operation had cost hundreds of lives, many of them Americans. David would like nothing more than to take him to the top floor and throw him off the building. But Susan and Tetsuo had convinced him of his value. If they could successfully recruit him to work for the CIA, then there was important work that Natesh could still do.

“I don’t want to go to jail. I know what I’ve done is wrong, but I also know what the US government will likely do to me once I get back on American soil.”

Tetsuo leaned forward in his chair and lightly slapped Natesh on the knee. Like they were friends, buddies. Like he was trying to cheer him up. He was, David realized. Tetsuo was working on him. Trying to establish a connection. Trust.

“We will take care of you. I’m not going to lie, I read about Lena Chou. She’s very impressive. So is Jinshan. They could have convinced a lot of people. We don’t blame you, Natesh, and you shouldn’t blame yourself. And if you’re worried about repercussions, then talk to us. It will go a long way back in Washington if you’re cooperating. Give us a sign of good faith. Let’s start a discussion — what can you help us with? What did you see over the past few weeks and months that we don’t know about?”

Natesh’s expression grew more positive the longer Tetsuo spoke. David could see that the Japanese-American man clearly knew his craft. He had simultaneously injected Natesh with a boost of confidence and begun the interrogation process.

Natesh said, “Plans. I know what Jinshan intends to do. I know where they plan to strike, what their strategy is. Excuse me for saying this, but Jinshan is way ahead of you. And if you are going to stop him, you’ll need what I have.”

David glanced over at Tetsuo, who kept staring at Natesh.

“Of course. We recognize your value. What…”

Natesh kept talking, looking down at the table, thinking while he spoke. “I suppose it would be impossible just to go back to my old life. I don’t think any of us will be able to do that. I just want to be cleared of any wrongdoing. I want immunity in the United States. When this is all over, I mean. I’ll feed you what I have. And you promise me that I can live in peace and quiet when I’m done. I’ll just go somewhere in the countryside and live my life alone. I’ve made a mistake. An unforgivable one. I realize that now. And I’m trying to make amends. The only way I know how — by giving you the secrets that you need. By giving you the plans that I helped — that I am helping to design.”

“You’re still working for him now? In Japan? What are you doing here?”

Natesh said, “Do we have a deal?”

“Yes. We do. You start working for us, and we have a deal. I can get you immunity. We’ll place you in the witness protection program or something similar. You’ll live in the middle of nowhere, and no one will ever be the wiser. But you need to stay in place for now, here. We need you to continue your work for Jinshan and provide us with insider information. Now, what are you doing in Japan?”

“Logistics planning. I’m helping to manage all of the people, parts, fuel, and food that will need to transit the Pacific in order for Cheng Jinshan to wage war on the United States.”

The two men stared at him, unable to speak for a moment. “So, Jinshan is still planning to go to war with the US?” Tetsuo asked.

Natesh nodded. “Yes. Of course. Nothing has changed for him.”

David cleared his throat. “Why are you doing that out of Tokyo?”

“Jinshan told me to. I believe he wanted to create separation between the people American intelligence was monitoring and the work that needed to get done.” Natesh’s expression changed. “There’s something that you need to know. Something immediately important, that I overheard when I spoke to Jinshan last.”

“What?”

Natesh was biting his lip, his eyes shifting around nervously. “North Korea is going to test-fire an ICBM.”

“Don’t they do that all the time?”

“This time will be different.”

17

Jinshan sat at his desk, reading through his daily reports.

His assistant knocked at the door.

“Sir, the Americans are asking to set up a phone call between you and the American president.”

“Are they?”

“I assume you want me to turn it down?”

Jinshan looked down at his notes.

“No. Let us speak with the Americans. Perhaps we can use it to our advantage.”

“They can meet anytime, sir. What should I say?”

“Tomorrow morning, our time.”

The timing would be just before the fun started. It would be the middle of the evening in Washington.

When the time came, Jinshan looked at the screen, a dark blue background with the American presidential seal. Then the screen changed to a view of the American president. He was sitting at the head of a long conference table. The view was zoomed in so that only he was visible, but there must have been advisors there. He wouldn’t take a call of this importance without them.

Jinshan had a similar setup. He kept his gaze on the screen, the tiny camera above it capturing him unfiltered. Jinshan noted that his own image made him look tired. He felt tired, too. Just a little longer, he told himself. Then this whole endeavor would be self-sustaining.

“Mr. President,” Jinshan said.

“Hello, Mr. Jinshan. Thank you for agreeing to speak with me this evening. I felt it urgent to hold this conversation face-to-face.”

“I understand, Mr. President. How can I help you?”

“This conversation might not be easy, Mr. Jinshan. But I feel that it is necessary. I must strenuously object to your recent undemocratic ascendancy to the leadership position of the Chinese people. A week ago, you were on trial. We have evidence that you were involved in planning military action against our country. Now I must ask formally what your intentions are, and make my own intentions known.”

Dark lines of fatigue lay under Jinshan’s eyes. He coughed into a gray handkerchief, the deep, full cough of a sick man.

Jinshan began. “I understand that you did not expect to see me here today, Mr. President. Let us dispense with any diplomatic pretense of pleasantries. To be frank, I just don’t have the time.” He paused, then looked thoughtful. “Do you know what the biggest threat to the well-being of a society is?”

The president was thrown off by Jinshan’s conversational tone. He frowned but remained silent.

“I will tell you. It’s the proliferation of a free and open Internet. As the saying goes — the pen is mightier than the sword. A free and open Internet places pens and audiences in the hands of the entire global population. The consequences of which would be the undoing of modern civilization, if left unchecked.”

“Mr. Jinshan, I would like to discuss—”

Jinshan cut him off with a held-up hand and spoke over him. “You can see the symptoms of this spreading disease in developed countries around the world. As more and more people use the Internet and social media to gain their information, democratic governments and large media companies are no longer capable of shaping the opinions of their populace. This is a dangerous thing.

“Information was once controlled by the powerful few. Words were carefully crafted to convince people to believe what we — the elite—wanted them to believe. But if the elite — the great thinkers within a state — cannot shape the opinions of their simple-minded citizens, as they have done for ages, it will lead to the absolute worst form of government. Irrational, uninformed democracy.