Mitch stood several times during the debriefing with John and his team; the injuries causing his muscles to spasm randomly after periods of sitting.
“I can’t believe Ru,” Mitch said, “all that time he’s been with the Chinese Intelligence Service and I’m assuming Danny Huang and his team were oblivious. They’ve been played by the one person in charge of all their communications.”
“I can’t believe he is one of us, only the Chinese version and in the meantime we’ve got Dylan in there as well and William Ying supposedly turned,” Ellen agreed.
“It’s a circus,” Mitch said with a look to John. “But I suspect we’re the last to know.”
Nick waited for John, Samantha and Ellen to leave Mitch’s office before he closed the door. Mitch looked up as Nick dropped into a seat in front of his desk.
“On the beach …” Nick began.
Mitch held up his hand for him to stop. “I know what you’re going to say …” Mitch indicated for Nick not to speak and he filled in. “Why didn’t we get to finish the job … but that’s the way it works. Look on the bright side, we don’t have to fill in the paperwork.”
“Yeah that’s a bonus,” Nick agreed, following Mitch’s lead. “Let’s get a coffee.”
“Right.” Mitch stood and followed Nick out of the office. They took the steps to the cafeteria, ordered a couple of coffees and then left the building. Mitch led the way to the courtyard, lowering himself onto one of the benches. Nick sat beside him.
Mitch looked around casually. Satisfied it was safe to talk he turned to Nick.
“What’s up?”
“I don’t understand why they drowned him,” Nick said in a hushed voice. “Why?”
“Nick, you never saw that and you can’t ever speak of it again. Understand?”
Nick nodded. “But I did see it and they know that we know …”
“Yes and no. They know that you saw the VIP and an Asian man on the beach and that our people were there. That’s all you saw, that’s all you will ever see.”
“Right.”
“No, tell me you understand,” Mitch insisted, “because if anyone knows that you are worried about it or even talking about it, your number will be up. Do you hear me?”
“I understand,” Nick assured him. He reached for a cigarette and lit one. He looked around. “But why? It goes against all my training and everything I’ve ever done in the Air Force. While you were off flying, testing planes and causing dramas for us, our crew would celebrate our search and rescues.”
Mitch sipped his coffee and explained. “If they had taken the VIP alive,” Mitch referred to their agreed call sign for the Vice President, “consider the tension that would exist now between the US and China. Consider the potential public insecurity believing our intel on home security is in Chinese hands. There would be speculation—if the VIP is a traitor who else in the current government might be? Also, why keep him locked up in our jails for years? Who wants a VIP that’s a traitor languishing in jail? What does that say about the office? That’s just for starters. Considering the punishment for treason in some countries, he got off lightly. Are you going to be OK with this?”
“Depends. Tell me if you are OK with it?” Nick asked looking at Mitch.
Mitch went to speak and hesitated. He swallowed.
“Because if you are OK with it, then I’m not sure I’m a fit for this job,” Nick added.
Mitch looked away. He thought for a moment then looked back at Nick.
“Strictly between us?”
“Yep,” Nick nodded.
“I’m OK with the VIP situation. He sold his country for a power trip. I’m not OK with William Ying, I don’t understand why. I bet John knows but we’re going to be kept in the dark.”
Nick nodded.
John Windsor summoned Mitch into his office. “Where’s your phone?”
Mitch patted his jacket pocket. “On my desk.”
“I was trying to reach you,” John said.
“I was just outside for five minutes, sorry,” Mitch conceded.
“Two things,” John continued. “Our legat in Beijing has sent her report. She’s been to see the immediate family of each police officer. In each and every case, a family member has received a short email saying something to the effect of ‘the course is going well, we are very busy and thinking of the family’. They all believe their family member is alive and well and in training in the US.”
Mitch exhaled. “So one of the fake group, probably Ru, was communicating to all the family members, so he must have the police officers’ phones. Not good, for the families.”
John nodded and continued. “Marcus just called. They’ve traced the call Dylan Ting made to you with the abort message and pinpointed it to the VIP house. He’s made another call since then and he’s no longer at the VIP house.”
“So where is he?” Mitch asked.
“He’s at sea, about fifteen miles south of the lighthouse.”
“At sea?” Mitch moved to the window and look out. “Why? Is he with Ru? Is he a captive? But if Ru was the shooter, he must have shot everyone at the VIP house and then taken to the ocean … did Dylan help?”
“We won’t know until you encounter them,” John said.
“Especially now that we’ve killed William Ying.” Mitch shook his head. “Danny Huang will never talk.”
“You’ll have to let that go,” John said. “I know you’re angry about William Ying’s killing.”
“Angry doesn’t begin to cover it. There’s a bigger agenda which we’re not being told,” Mitch looked at John, “or maybe you’re being told and I’m not.”
John turned away. “You need to find your sea legs. They’re on a thirty-five foot motor yacht from the intel I have to hand.” He handed Mitch one piece of paper and a grainy photo showing someone who resembled Dylan Ting on the deck of a motor yacht.
Mitch flipped over the paper and the back was blank. “Terrific.”
Marcus knocked on the office door and John beckoned him in.
“Gentlemen,” he said. “The vessel Dylan is on is stationary at the moment. The boat belongs to John and Janet Villiers who were on board when it left the harbor a few days ago, according to the general store owner at Buxton who said they came in for supplies. If our two Asian men are on board, that makes four people—or the Villiers might have been dealt with.”
“It’s not a ghost boat is it?” Mitch asked.
“No, there is someone alive on board because our sources said it only recently dropped anchor in the area … like in the last hour,” Marcus confirmed. “They’re not moving now but I’ll keep you posted if there’s any change,” he said with a wave on departure.
Mitch was thinking aloud. “We need to get down there before Dylan gets taken out or they take off.”
“Give me a plan ASAP and what you need,” John said. “Team meeting here in thirty minutes?”
“I have to check something, so can we make it an hour?” Mitch rose. As he walked out, he issued orders. “Ellie, find out anything you can for me on Pan Ru for a briefing in an hour, Sam, check with Marcus and Justin to see if they have any translation updates or phone records from before and after the lift that we haven’t seen. Nick, we’ve got a container to open.”
“Let’s get it over with.” Mitch stared at the lock on the larger container.
“This is not going to be pretty is it?” Nick said, using the steel jaws of the bolt cutter. The lock snapped and Nick pulled it off.
“Maybe you should just wait over there.” Mitch nodded to their vehicle.
“Job comes with the good and the bad,” Nick said.
Mitch nodded and together they pulled open the iron door of the large container that had been waiting for them since Mitch had Samantha store it safely. Mitch knew what to expect; four Asian police officers. He’d seen putrid bodies before and he anticipated the stench and view would be overwhelming. His jaw locked in a reflex action and both men braced as they looked in.
Mitch gagged. Nick dropped the bolt cutter, turned, ran to the edge of the jetty and vomited into the water.
Mitch stared straight ahead into the container. He made a call to John.
“I’ve got four dead police officers, want to collect them?”