Nicolai Orlov was on the 21st floor of the Sun Hung Kai Centre, standing beside a window wall. The vista of Victoria Harbour in the foreground and the cluster of gleaming office and residential towers on the opposite shore awed Nick. He watched as a passenger ferry departed from a pier at its Wan Chai terminal on Hong Kong Island and began crossing the three-quarter mile wide waterway to its companion berth at Tsim Sha Tsui on the Kowloon Peninsula.
Founded in 1888, the Star Ferry Company has operated a fleet of a dozen boats on two routes that transport over 70,000 passengers a day between Hong Kong Island and Kowloon. Although a modern system of road and subway tunnels crisscross Victoria Harbour, the ferries were an inexpensive and popular way to traverse the harbor.
Noticing the vintage ferry chugging across the busy channel waters tugged at Nick’s heart. He missed the daily water commute he used to make when he lived in San Francisco. He had rented a houseboat in Sausalito and took a ferry across the Bay to downtown in the morning. He would complete the commute to the Russian Consulate with a crosstown cable car ride and a brisk walk.
Nick made a mental note to take the ferry to Kowloon in the afternoon. He returned to a chair beside the oak table. He had arrived early at Russia’s Hong Kong Consulate. The receptionist directed him to the conference room.
Nick retrieved his tea cup from the table and took a swallow.
His cup was almost empty when the door opened and a middle aged man with thinning brown hair and a slight build appeared.
“Nicolai! I’m so sorry to keep you waiting. I was on the phone to Moscow.”
“Don’t worry about it. I was early.”
Nick had arrived at Hong Kong International the previous evening. His hotel was just a few blocks away from the consulate. Unable to sleep much because of jet lag, he rose early.
The two men embraced. “Good to see you, my friend,” Oleg Chapev said.
“You too, sir.” Earlier in Nick’s career, he had worked for Chapev at the Russian Embassy in London.
Nick turned to his side and gestured toward the windows. “Incredible views from here.”
“Indeed. This truly is an amazing place.”
“How long have you been assigned here now?”
“Just over a year.” Like Nick, Chapev worked for the SVR. He served as the SVR rezident for the consulate. He held the rank of colonel. Seven years Nick’s senior, Chapev was married and had two teenage daughters.
“How does the family like living here?”
“They love it. Really surprised me. Education system is first class. We have a gorgeous apartment with a terrific view. Evalina and the girls are fluent in English, which makes it easy to get around because it seems like just about everyone in Hong Kong speaks at least a little English. You can forget about Russian.”
Nick grinned, familiar with HK’s language customs from prior visits. “That’s great.” Nick returned to his chair and Chapev sat beside him.
Nick said, “How about you, sir—how’s it going here at the consulate?”
“Busy, lots going on.”
Nick crossed his legs. “I expect you’re wondering what I’m doing here.”
“I received notice yesterday from Center that you were en route but nothing more.”
“Smirnov sent me.”
“The big boss himself…I’m impressed.”
“He wants an assessment of where we are with China. The Qingdao situation has everyone in the Kremlin spooked.”
“That’s a huge concern here too. Hong Kong likes to think it is independent of Beijing but reality’s finally hitting home. Terrorists could just have easily targeted Hong Kong as Qingdao.” Chapev turned toward the windows. “A nuke going off in the harbor, even a small one, would devastate this place.”
“For sure.”
Nick and Chapev discussed the Qingdao debacle for a couple of minutes before returning to Hong Kong issues. “Just how active is the MSS here?” Nick asked.
“Very. They have infiltrated just about every ministry, including the police. Generally, they operate in the background. Nevertheless, Beijing has clearly consolidated its grip on the entire government.”
Nick said, “The specter of nuclear terrorism will accelerate the takeover.”
“No doubt.”
China’s One Nation, Two Systems policy toward Hong Kong had provided a degree of independence for the former British colony. When the UK’s lease for Hong Kong expired in 1997, China allowed Hong Kong to police itself, along with a pledge not to import mainland security forces to the enclave. That promise, along with others, evaporated. Despite vigorous protests by Hongkongers, the Ministry of State Security operated freely in the city of seven million.
“What’s the gang situation like here?” Nick asked.
“Triads are active. Prostitution, illegal gambling, drug trafficking, smuggling…knockoff luxury goods.”
“Contract murder?”
Colonel Chapev’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, they’re involved in that too. Why do you ask?”
Nick reached into a pocket of his jacket and took out a folded paper. He opened it and gave it to Chapev. “What can you tell me about this?”
Chapev scanned the photocopy of a nearly three week old Hong Kong newspaper article. It featured the murder of a prominent businessman. “This was a big deal.”
“The article pointed the finger at a local Triad. Is that still the case?”
“As far as I know. Kwan Chi was a real estate developer. We heard he got crosswise with some bad people and they took him out.” Chapev frowned. “What’s so important about this guy?”
“We think he might have been MSS.”
That took the wind out of Chapev’s sails. “No—a billionaire working for the MSS?”
“Moscow believes that’s the case.”
Colonel Chapev hardened his posture. “Is Moscow concerned about me not knowing.”
“No sir. Please relax. That’s not the case at all. Center just discovered the possibility from an agent in the States. Smirnov sent me here to investigate.”
Chapev took a deep breath, relieved. “Putting a hit on a highly placed MSS asset like Kwan, no triad would dare risk something like that.”
“Center agrees. If a gang did it, they had no clue who their target really was.”
“But who could be behind this? I’m sure Kwan had special security, being one of the wealthier men here plus working with the MSS. It’s almost like he was the target of a state sponsored hit.”
“Exactly, Colonel. That’s what we think happened.”
Chapev pursed his lips, thinking ahead. After a moment he said, “Who would risk such a thing?”
“We suspect it was a CIA op.”
“But why would the Americans want him dead?”
“That’s why I need your help to determine what really happened.”
* * * *
Nick Orlov took in the marvels of Victoria Harbour as the Golden Star dashed across the waterway. Departing from a Wan Chai pier, a short walk from the consulate, the ferry was bound for the Kowloon Peninsula. The Golden Star was packed with tourists along with a swarm of locals this afternoon. Nick was near the stern on the lower deck. The pulse of the diesel engine vibrated the steel deck plates, transmitting mini shudders through the soles of his shoes. The churning wake surged as the ferry captain added power. The wash helped mask the high-pitched Cantonese chatter of two middle aged women who gossiped nearby.
A perpetually ravenous seagull patrolled along the starboard side of the Golden Star, his jet-black BB eyeballs tracking the tourists who collected near midships. The Americans munched on French fries and Big Macs from the McDonald’s at Wan Chai. The gull hoped for a tasty treat to be tossed his way.
Nick embraced the salt laden fragrance of the air. And he welcomed the ship induced breeze; Hong Kong sizzled with dripping humidity. His shirt and trousers stuck to his skin like paste.
After his session with Colonel Chapev, Nick lunched with both Chapev and the Consul General at a restaurant near the Sun Hung Kai Centre. It was a courtesy meeting. On official business from SVR headquarters, Nick was not obligated to reveal the true nature of his visit to the consulate’s senior diplomat. Nevertheless, it was Nick’s policy to always befriend the Russian consul general or ambassador in whatever foreign country he operated. Nick traveled on a diplomatic passport and on more than one occasion foreign ministry staff had saved Nick’s bacon.
During lunch, Nick explained that he was sent to Hong Kong to review the consulate’s cyber security systems, which the Consul General welcomed. It was a smokescreen that Nick previewed with Chapev prior to the luncheon.
Nick would go through a perfunctory security review of the consulate for show purposes only. The CG bought in, offering whatever assistance Nick might need. Nick solidified his connection with the Consul General when he took care of the lunch bill.
Nick walked forward to the ferry’s main seating area. That’s when he spotted the blonde sitting in a bench seat with her back to him. Her hair was short, almost a bob.
It can’t be!
With his heart pounding he stepped along the aisleway opposite the young woman. He stole a quick look—anticipating, hoping. But no joy.
What the hell are you thinking. This is the last place she would come to.
Nick took a seat a couple of rows forward of the thirty something woman. She was attractive but not even close to Elena’s exquisiteness.
Elena Krestyanova, aka Nastasia Vasileva, was a former SVR operative and Nick’s lover.
Nick missed Elena and thought of her often. Just a month earlier they were together and then Elena fled. She had no choice. Nick was complicit in her escape, which risked his career.
Their last mission together, sanctioned by Moscow and orchestrated remotely half a world away by Nick and Elena, resulted in a high-tech death in Hong Kong. An SVR hit team took out billionaire Kwan Chi not the CIA.
It was Nick’s job to perpetuate the charade, isolating Russia from any connection to the assassination of one of China’s most valued spies.