Vital Force (8 page)

“Turn around,” she said.

He did what she said, making sure she didn't move toward him at that moment. Instead, he heard his clothes scrape across the floor. She was checking out his I.D., he realized, but these were strange methods.

“Okay,” she said. “Get dressed.”

He turned around, and she had lowered the gun. Her eyes now shot down toward his crotch. She raised her thin eyebrows. Just as he got dressed, the train pulled away from the station and started picking up speed.

“What was that all about?” he asked her.

She was seated now and her gun back under her jacket.

“I was told you had a small tattoo on your right cheek. A picture of rabbit.”

“Hey, that's not just any rabbit. That's Bugs himself. A moment of weakness.” He thought for a moment. “You could have just had me pull down my pants.”

“What fun would that be?” She smiled now, showing imperfect teeth but a true warmth.

“You were checking for wires,” he said.

“Can't be too careful.”

He sat down on the seat next to her. “You wouldn't happen to have an extra gun. Something a little more reliable than that Russian knock-off of yours.”

She smiled and shook her head. “You insult my gun and then ask for one. Typical.”

“Actually, I asked for one and then insulted yours. Seriously, though, I feel somewhat naked without mine.”

“If police catch you with one, you won't see light of day for years. Bad way to learn Chinese. Good way to catch disease.”

Jake laughed. He had a feeling he was going to like... “What's your name?”

“Chang Su. You can call me Su.”

“Is that what they called you at American university?” he asked her.

“Yes.”

“And where was that?”

“Stanford”

“Impressive. Is that where they recruited you?”

“They?”

“The people you work with now.”

“I work for a communications company in Shanghai,” she said convincingly. “I'm scouting Manchuria for cell tower placement.”

“And that obviously requires a gun.” Jake smiled at her.

She hesitated, the wheels of thought processing in her mind. “Your Agency has asked me for a few favors over the past couple of years.”

“What'd they have on you? And I'm not with the Agency.”

“Yet, here you are with me.”

“You didn't answer my question. What'd they have on you?”

She didn't want to explain anything to him, it was obvious, but for some reason she said, “I took some things in college. My government forced me. My family was in danger.”

“Ah...the old Soviet trick. Work for us or we harm the family. What did you take?”

“Does it matter?”

Probably not, he thought. But he was still curious. “Yes, it does. I like to know the person I'm hanging out with, even if she happens to be a double agent.”

“That's not fair. You don't know me.”

“You work for two countries; that makes you a double agent.”

Her expression was as if she had just realized this with his words. A tear streaked her face.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “That wasn't nice.”

She wiped the tears away and seemed much better in a hurry, as if his words had meant something.

“I was working on software encryption for a class,” she said. “I told my sister in Beijing. She asked for a copy. I didn't see a problem. I didn't know she worked for the government. Next thing I know, two Agency men throw me in a big car and talk at me all weekend. After that, I send more things to my sister. Things that don't work.”

“Classic. Disinformation.”

“I didn't know.” She shook her head emphatically. “Not until later, when I run the program and see it was bogus. Then I tell my sister.”

“Wow.”

“What?”

“That makes you a triple agent.”

She shook her head no. “Only two countries.”

“Two countries; three sets of information. First, the home country expecting you to feed them good stuff. Then the bogus information from the new country passed off as the truth. Then the truth of the bogus info passed on to the original country. In baseball, that's a triple play. Very rare.”

“You suck!” Tears streamed down her face again.

“I'm sorry,” he said again, placing his hand on her shoulder. “Listen, can we just start over? Hi, my name is Jake.” He held out his hand for her to shake.

She sniffled and then laughed. “Su me.” She laughed louder now. “I mean, I'm Su.”

Jake laughed for the first time in months.

Bend, Oregon

The brown Ford Taurus pulled to the side of the road behind a Chevy Blazer in a quiet subdivision along the Deschutes River. It was just dark enough to require lights, but Agent Drew Fisher had not turned his on as he followed the Trooper carrying Cliff Johansen and the unknown Asian woman.

He had parked about a block back from the house owned by Zack Evans, who had been Cliff Johansen's old college friend at the University of Oregon.

Fisher had called ahead, and sitting in the Blazer in front of him was the special agent in charge of the Central Oregon Agency office, Jane Harris. They had never met, but had talked on the phone a few times in the past few hours on the drive up.

Turning off the dome light, Fisher got out, quietly closed the driver's door, and walked up to the Blazer, getting in the passenger side.

He reached across and shook the agent's hand. “Drew Fisher.”

“Jane Harris.”

She was a small woman, looking more like a marathon runner than someone who might need to mix it up with criminals. Her hair was cut so short in the back, he could see her scalp. Yet, despite her small frame, Fisher noticed her chest was well represented.

“How long ya been here?” Fisher asked.

She checked her watch. “About two hours. Evans works across the river with a law firm.”

“Damn, a lawyer?”

“Actually, he's a CPA. The firm deals mostly with businesses in the area. Evans handles their tax division.”

“You think he has a clue about his old college buddy?”

She shook her head. “From what you've told me, Cliff Johansen doesn't sound like he confides in anyone.”

“True. But guys tell their college friends more than they tell their priest.”

She swiveled her head toward the house down the road with the Trooper in the driveway. “Did you run the plates on the Trooper?”

“Rental. Out to a Jill Jones.”

“Didn't look like a Jill to me,” she said. “Chinese. Maybe Korean.”

“Former, I'd guess. The place she was staying in Union City was rented to a company in San Jose. I've got someone checking into that.”

She looked concerned. “This information you suspect he took. How important is it?”

“That's the problem,” Fisher said, “I'm not sure what he took. The company has access to every aspect of the missile defense system. Cliff's a computer genius. He could get in and out without anyone's knowledge. We have to suspect worst-case.”

And that's what had him so anxious. If Cliff Johansen had taken anything at all, he had done it right under his nose. That could get Fisher fired, if not hung out to dry.

●

Inside the house of Zack Evans, Li and Cliff Johansen had just finished putting their bags in a spare bedroom on the second floor, and were about to make their way downstairs. Remembering her instructions, and how she needed to hurry the process, she hoped this computer nerd would not try to screw with her-literally and figuratively.

“He wasn't surprised to see you,” Li said. “Are you sure you didn't tell him you were coming?”

“Positive.” Cliff moved closer to her, planting his right hand on her butt. “He seemed very impressed by you.”

She ran her thigh against his crotch seductively. “Let's remain focused. You have to get the data tonight.”

The two of them headed downstairs and found Zack Evans in the living room watching CNN and drinking a martini. He was a slight man with round spectacles on top of narrow-set eyes. His hair was spiked up with gel and he smiled through one side of his mouth.

“The bar is open,” Evans said, raising his glass. “I can make you one of these...shaken, not stirred. Or I've got some of that good local microbrew that I sent you a few weeks ago.”

Cliff started off and then stopped. “I'm havin' a beer. Li, what would you like?”

“Soda.”

“You got it.” He took off.

While he was gone, Li went to the window and glanced out from the edge of the curtain. She had to make this work. Damn. She still needed to find that Abby Road album for the Laughing Dumbass. He could forgive her for not getting the software, she thought, but if she didn't bring back the Beatles. . . she'd pay for that with her flesh.

“Here you go,” Cliff said, handing her a glass of coke.

Li and Cliff took seats across from Evans.

“So, what's up?” Evans asked Cliff.

“Wouldn't you like to know?” Cliff smiled and raised his brows.

“Ya dumb ass. I meant what brings you to Bend on a weekday?”

“I knew that.” Cliff glanced sideways at Li. “We were sick of the city. I called in sick and said screw it. Road trip.” He yelled the last two words.

Evans gave him a high five. “You da man.” His friend nodded his head at Li. “How long you two know each other?”

Cliff waited for her to speak. When she didn't, he said, “About a month. She was my Tai Chi instructor.”

“No shit? You gonna kick my ass in slow motion?”

“That's not what it's about,” Li said, looking somewhat disturbed. Slow motion, fast motion, it didn't matter to her.

“I'm sorry,” Evans said, “I didn't mean to imply...”

“Listen,” Cliff broke in. “You should find a class here in Bend. It clears your mind and body and allows you to focus more clearly on what's important.”

Evans considered Li more carefully now. “Yeah, I'll have to look into that.”

There was dead silence for a moment that lingered longer than anyone expected.

Cliff broke it. “Your server,” he started. “I should take a look at it. Make sure everything is working right.”

“Right,” Evans said, rising to his feet. He went to the kitchen, but continued the conversation. “I'll make another martini...and we'll look into that.” A moment later he returned with a martini in one hand and another beer in the other. “Li, I hope you don't mind helping yourself.”

“No problem. I was thinking of taking a walk. Plus, I have to get something from the Trooper.”

“Excellent.”

●

The two college friends retreated to the office on the second floor, right next to the guest bedroom.

Cliff took a long draw on his beer, finishing about half of it, and then went to the floor and started opening the server case.

“You fuckin' dog,” Evans said, kicking his friend in the leg. “You have a hottie like that and you don't tell me?”

By now Cliff had the side of the case open. He didn't look at his friend when he said, “No big deal.”

“Yeah, right. The big city boy has all the arm candy he can handle. Man, you're fulla shit.”

Cliff started removing some screws and then stopped. He nearly finished his beer with a quick swig. He had forgotten what he needed in the other room. And, he realized, his friend might actually know more about computers than he suspected.

“It's not what you think,” Cliff said reticently, getting up from the floor.

“You havin' sex?”

Cliff shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Then it's what I think.”

“Who's the dog now? Back in a sec.”

Cliff went to the bedroom and pulled out an external DVD burner from his bag, along with two blank DVD-Rs. Then he returned to the office, where he found his friend peering inside the server case.

“That a whole lotta wires and shit,” Evans said. “Give me numbers and figures any day.”

“Get the hell outta my way,” Cliff said playfully. “Man on a mission.” He finished his beer and set the bottle on the desk.

Cliff hitched up his DVD burner, plugging it into a FireWire port. He could have accessed the server from his home in California and transferred the data back to his drive there, but he didn't want anyone to be able to trace it back to him. He could have also burned a copy from there and handed it over to Li, but then she could have screwed him out of the money. He had to stick with his plan, even though it wasn't the easiest way to do things.

In a moment he found his hidden files and started transferring them to his blank DVD. While he did this, he encrypted the files with a 512 bit scheme he had developed himself. Even if someone got their hands on the files, there would be no way they could break his codes.

“This won't take much longer,” Cliff said. “Could you get me another beer?”

Just as his friend left the room, he heard the door downstairs close.

One more copy, he thought, and then they'd go to the bank in the morning. Smooth as a baby's ass.

●

“There you go,” Special Agent Fisher said. “The Asian woman.”

“Should we haul her ass in?” Harris said, her eyes on the woman, who had just gone to the Trooper and was now walking down the sidewalk in the opposite direction.

“We have nothing on her.”

“What about probable cause to believe she's in the act of committing espionage against our country?”

Fisher smiled. “I meant something real.”

She raised her head as she said, “So that's how we're gonna operate. I just like to lay down the ground rules.”

“For now. But keep asking.”

The train to Harbin was slow and plodding and expected to take all day to travel the five hundred miles or so, stopping in nearly every one-water-buffalo town to drop off and pick up passengers.