The VIP rubbed his face. The door of his office opened and he looked up, startled; it was early and he wasn’t expecting anyone in the office just yet. It was his personal assistant. She placed a cup of tea in front of him and brought his daily mail.
“Thanks Kate.” He watched her walk out, admiring her figure. He would miss the view. The VIP rose and went to the window. Sometimes he wondered if he had done the right thing, selling out, but then he recalled the treachery of his own party; he was never going to have the top job. The knives were out yet he knew he was the best man for the job. That would change when he went to China; plus his days studying in Beijing were some of the happiest of his life and he was keen to relive that feeling … if it was not too late.
“To yesterday and tomorrow,” he whispered. The VIP returned to his desk and drank the tea. My last cup of tea in this office. He glanced at his watch. Time to go, meet the collectors. He drew a deep breath and looked around the room one more time from the position of his desk and then rose. The VIP removed the sim-card from his phone, destroyed it and left the phone in the top drawer. No use for that anymore and I don’t want to be traceable. He walked to the door, opened it, walked through and did not look back.
Mitch stood in front of the window looking at the beach and eating a bowl of cereal.
“What’s the plan,” Nick asked buttering toast.
“Nick, you need to scope the beach area as subtly as you can. Take your board, paddle out, check out the area. Ellie, can you go hire a boat for an hour and do the same? I’m going to …” Mitch stopped mid-sentence. Nick and Ellen looked over at him.
“Mitch?” Ellen said.
“VIP,” Mitch said. “No … surely not.” He slid the bowl onto the counter, grabbed his phone and rang John Windsor.
“No, everything’s fine,” Mitch assured him. “John, hypothetical here, what are the odds that VIP is code for the Vice President? He was in office when William Ying was Chinese ambassador.”
He heard John Windsor draw in a sharp breath. “We can’t rule it out,” he answered.
“Can you find out what the Vice President has in his diary today?” Mitch asked. “If he’s got appointments we needn’t worry … assuming he shows for them. If his diary has been cleared, then we need to know exactly where he is because whoever the VIP is, supposedly he is being picked up and driven to the VIP house at Cape Hatteras today.”
“I’m onto it—and Mitch, tell your team to keep this off the radar,” John said. “I’ll ring the Chief of Staff in the White House.”
Mitch hung up.
“You can’t be serious?” Nick asked.
“Worthy of a submarine departure,” Mitch said. “Off the radar though, OK?”
They nodded.
“You two go, I’ll keep you posted,” Mitch ordered.
Nick grabbed his toast and the keys. Mitch’s phone rang again.
“Dylan?”
“Hi Mitch, I’ve just heard that William is picking up the VIP at his home in exactly one hour’s time and then they are heading down your way to the VIP house. They’ll be there late this afternoon,” Dylan said. “Plus I’ve got Danny Huang’s phone. Most of the messages are just codes, a couple of words, nothing more. His old messages to William Ying are friendly, like an old pal catching up.”
“Right, can you text Hai from that phone? Short and sweet. Say ‘all on track, continue mission as planned’.”
“No problem. Hai says Danny Huang is a loose cannon … well he didn’t say that to me, Ru told me.”
“Yes, there appears to be no love lost between them.”
“Interesting trip with Ru yesterday,” Dylan Ting continued.
“Oh yeah the drop off, what did you do?” Mitch asked.
“We went to the dock, signed for a key, were told that if we wanted anything out of the container that the key unlocked, do it soon because it was going to be sunk early next week.”
Mitch closed his eyes. “Right,” he said, and sighed. “Text me through the address where the container is stored, thanks. What are you doing now?”
“I’m waiting to hear from Ru. I’ve been invited to work on a project with them and he’s going to pick me up. They said I’d be away a couple of days.”
“Sounds like a trip to Cape Hatteras, well done,” Mitch said.
“Do you want me to go with him or I could come …”
“No.” Mitch opened his eyes and cut Dylan off mid-sentence. “You need to do as they tell you. You are the new guy keen to impress. Keep us posted.”
Nick watched Ellen walk towards the boat shed to sign out a boat for the morning. She turned and nodded. There was a boat available, and he could leave now. Nick turned the car out of the harbor parking lot and drove to the beach lot.
Ellen was right, he thought, Mitch’s Audi was great to drive, but he still preferred his bike. He spun it into a park, grabbed his towel, and headed to the beach.
He was about to strip off when his phone rang; it was Samantha.
“Hey, Sam,” he answered.
“Nick, can you talk?” He heard the strain in her voice.
“I’m alone, just about to do a beach tour of duty,” Nick answered.
Samantha sighed. “Has he said anything about me?”
Nick flicked his towel out and dropped down onto it. He looked out to sea.
“Not a word, Sam, sorry. I tried to bring you up, suggested he handball a job to you but he didn’t respond.”
“Should I call him?” she asked.
“I wouldn’t,” Nick said. “To be honest, Sam, it’s not that he’s avoiding you, you’re just not on his radar at the moment. This is all going to go down tomorrow supposedly and you know how he works more than I do, he’s got a head-full. If you push him, he’ll just blow you off.”
“When will you be back?” she asked.
“Probably in a couple of days.” Nick looked around to make sure he was alone. “Once the swap happens we’ve got no reason to stay here.”
There was silence on the line.
“You’ve known him for a hundred years. Why doesn’t he appreciate a bit of initiative? Was he like that in the air force too?”
Nick flared. “Maybe if the initiative worked! He’s been tortured, Sam.” Nick drew a deep breath. “You know what I’d do? I would lie low. Stay out of his face and show you can be disciplined enough to understand he has other priorities. It might help. I’ve got to go. Are you going to be OK?”
“Yeah, thanks for the chat.”
“Sure.” Nick shook his head and hung up. He rose, stripped off his shirt and ran to the water’s edge.
Bloody freezing. He plunged in and swam away from the shore.
Mitch sighed with frustration as he watched out the window. He drummed his fingers on the windowsill, waiting for John’s call. He ran through the scenario in his head; if it was the Vice President, the VIP, why? Was he a spy? Why would he turn and betray his country—and what damage could he do from one of the most powerful offices in the country? What intelligence has he already taken out of the country?
Mitch’s phone rang and he grabbed for it. It wasn’t John.
“Nick?”
“Hey Mitch, I’ve covered the area, at great personal sacrifice … lord knows what the shrinkage damage is from that water temperature …”
Mitch laughed. “I’ll put you up for a medal.”
“Yeah thanks,” Nick responded. “Ellen’s still out on the boat, but I’ve just seen one of the Asian men pull up at the supermarket across the road. Want me to trail him to see if he buys anything other than groceries?”
“Yes thanks, but don’t follow him back to the VIP house.”
“No. I’ll call you when I’m back in the car.” Nick hung up.
Mitch rang Ellen. “Ellie, when you are in the area where we spotted the midget sub last time, can you confirm the coordinates?”
“I’m there now, will do,” she said.
Mitch hung up and waited.
He grabbed his iPad and logged into his work system to access his files. He read the Vice President’s background and followed a hunch … where did the VP go to school? He found the VP’s high school. Now what subjects did he study? He checked the school’s yearbook and … look at that, he won the award for Modern Asian Studies. Does he speak Mandarin or Cantonese? Can’t be too hard to find out if he learnt these at school. Hold up …
Mitch looked up and took a moment. I can’t believe it … he looked back at the screen … the VP was an exchange student for a year in Beijing. It’s all coming together.
His phone rang again.
“Mitch, I’m back in the car and you won’t believe what the Asian just bought,” Nick said. He didn’t wait for an answer. “Flippers, a beach towel, a scuba mask and snorkel.”
“What?” Mitch frowned.
“Seriously,” Nick confirmed. “He’s headed up the highway now in the direction of the VIP house. I’m going to head to the beach and the lighthouse. Hang on …”
Mitch waited while Nick put the phone in hands-free mode and started the car.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Nick asked.
“That the Vice President is going to go missing when swimming … and his flippers and mask will wash up on shore,” Mitch said.
“Exactly. Nothing suspicious, just another drowning at sea. Meantime, he’s sold out and is out of the country,” Nick said.
“Unbelievable. Got to go, John’s calling.”
Mitch hung up on Nick and selected John’s call.
“John, tell me …”
John lowered his voice. “The Vice President has left the White House and cancelled his appointments for the rest of the day. He’s claimed a personal day for family reasons.”
“Dylan said William was picking the VIP up from his home in less than an hour, it has to be him! I knew we couldn’t trust William to keep us in the loop, even to save his wife and child,” Mitch said. “I’m going to get Dylan to stake out the Vice President’s house. If he sees him get in the car with William, I’ll get him to take photos and we’ll know we’ve got our man. John, just let me do that before you alert higher powers. If we’re wrong … well, we don’t want to be wrong.”
“Come back to me with a plan within thirty minutes,” John ordered.
“Done and just quickly, the Vice President was an exchange student in Beijing, nice fit.” Mitch hung up and called Dylan Ting.
“Dylan, can you get away? I need you to do something urgently without being seen.” Mitch began his plan of action.