MACAU
Dewey flew aboard Air Force One to JFK, where Mack Perry met him on the tarmac. Perry handed Dewey a leather satchel.
“Here are your papers. You’re getting into Macau under a Spanish passport; the details are inside. You’ll be operational once you’re there.”
“Why Spain?”
“It has nothing to do with the mission,” said Perry. “It’s a safe alias, that’s all, a rich Spanish guy who did some work for MI6. We don’t want you getting stopped at the border. You have a history with PRC. You’re flying to Madrid, then Macau.”
“Got it. Is the operation still the same?”
“No. We need to get the poison inside Yong-sik’s hotel room. You can’t carry it in. We’re figuring it out now. It’ll be set up by the time you’re there, hopefully.”
Dewey glanced at Perry.
“There’s your ride,” said Perry, pointing to a black jet, stairs down, engines purring, a hundred feet away.
Dewey climbed aboard the jet, a CIA GV, which took off as soon as the stairs were back up and locked. Dewey read over the papers as the GV climbed to thirty thousand feet over the dark blue of the Atlantic.
Dewey was traveling under a Spanish passport and the name Diego Escalante. Escalante was a Spanish billionaire, traveling to Macau for the first time to check it out after decades’ worth of gambling in Las Vegas and Monaco.
Usually CIA agents, when on assignment in a foreign land, took a role at the local U.S. embassy or consulate. This provided the agent with official diplomatic immunity, or “cover,” protecting the agent from prosecution if they were caught. An official agent, if captured, was usually escorted to the border and kicked out of the country.
But there were also agents who ventured into enemy lands without diplomatic immunity, unprotected. It was called “non-official cover.” Inside Langley, they were nicknamed “illegals.” Officially, they were known as NOCs. If captured, these operators faced severe criminal punishment, up to and including execution. They operated alone, across enemy lines, without a safety net. The reasoning was straightforward. A NOC had more freedom to roam because he or she would not necessarily be under surveillance by a foreign government, as embassy workers often were. This meant that NOCs had wide operational latitude. It was the ideal way to surreptitiously enter a country and move unhindered by the threat of surveillance and law enforcement.
Unfortunately, the risks were far greater. In the case of Macau, Dewey was on Chinese sovereign soil. This made the risk of the operation much higher. Unlike some countries, the Chinese liked to put most foreign travelers under some sort of surveillance, especially Americans. Even though Dewey was traveling under a Spanish alias, which was designed to withstand electronic scrutiny, the Chinese also used sophisticated facial recognition software at most airports and border crossings.
Dewey’s last visit to China was two years before, an operation to kill the head of Chinese intelligence, Fao Bhang. The mission was successful. China was just about the last place on earth he could afford to spend a lot of time in.
But Macau also had advantages. It was one of China’s shining jewels. Macau now surpassed Las Vegas as the largest gambling mecca in the world. Gambling was incredibly important—and brought in hundreds of billions of dollars to the Chinese economy. If gambling was an important and growing source of revenue for China, so were gamblers, especially so-called “big fish” like Diego Escalante. Those arriving in Macau on private jets were screened on the tarmac by local Chinese customs officials. It was a far simpler and easier process than having to go through the long customs line in the main terminal.
In Madrid, he switched planes, getting on a private Airbus owned by Escalante. The plane was luxurious. There were two staterooms along with a large lounge area with leather couches, televisions, and several stewardesses. In case any of the stewardesses or pilots aboard the jet worked for Chinese intelligence, Dewey acted the role of a Spanish billionaire, or at least how he thought one might act.
A few hours out, he phoned Jenna.
“Hi, Dewey.”
“Hi,” said Dewey.
“Where are you?”
“Two hours out. Mack said there are changes to the design.”
“Only one,” said Jenna. “You’ll get to the Grand Hyatt, change, and go to the Mandarin. General Yong-sik has arranged for a private blackjack game at eleven P.M. You’ll be posing as his dealer. I hope you’re okay with cards.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Bill was worried about a strip search by Yong-sik’s security crew,” said Jenna. “We won’t want them finding the needle, obviously. We altered the protocol. The needle will be taped to the underside of the blackjack table.”
“Got it.”
“There’s one more thing,” said Jenna. “A plane left Tehran heading to Macau and landed around the same time as Yong-sik’s plane. It was Abu Paria’s.”
* * *
When the jet touched down in Macau, a pair of young Chinese customs officials came on board the plane and inspected his passport, then conducted a brief interview with Dewey. The two officials were deferential.
A limousine was waiting on the tarmac. The driver was an older man in a black uniform. He was Chinese and opened the back door of the limousine.
“Grand Hyatt Hotel, por favor,” said Dewey.
“Of course, sir.”
“What is the local time?” Dewey asked in Spanish.
“Nine thirty,” said the driver as the limousine started moving.
It was getting late. He needed to move quickly now.
At the Grand Hyatt, Dewey was given a key to his room. The suite was on the top floor of the hotel. Once inside, he went to the closet and found the safe. He typed in a six-digit code and the safe popped open.
Inside was a large pile of cash, two silenced handguns—Colt 1911s—an earbud, two concealed weapons holsters, and a piece of twine.
Dewey picked up the earbud and placed it in his ear, tapping twice.
“This is Dewey Andreas, on commo, check.”
He heard a few clicks, then a male voice.
“Hold on, please.”
A moment later, he heard Jenna’s soft British accent.
“Dewey?” said Jenna. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah.”
“Was everything there?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, you need to get moving,” said Jenna. “Yong-sik is now at dinner. The Mandarin Hotel is next door to the Grand Hyatt. There’s a tuxedo in the closet. Put it on. It should fit you.”
“I don’t like tuxedos.”
Jenna laughed.
“As I said before, you’ll be penetrating the operation as a blackjack dealer. Two security men from the Mandarin will accompany you to Yong-sik’s room. Your identification is in the pocket of the tuxedo. You’re Spanish, but not Escalante; that was simply to get into the country. You’re originally from Madrid. You’ve worked various places, Las Vegas, Dubai, and most recently, Monaco. There’ll be a security perimeter around Yong-sik’s suite. It’s imperative that you be unarmed.”
“What do you mean, ‘unarmed’?”
“Leave the guns. Dewey, you’re going to be scanned and patted down by experts,” said Jenna. “If they find a weapon on you, they’ll kill you.”
“How many men are we talking about?”
“Four or five would be my guess, though we don’t know for sure. Now listen up. There are two electric shuffling machines,” said Jenna, “though you shouldn’t even need to deal any cards. The syringe will be taped to the underside of the card table. A gun will be hidden next to it. Yong-sik gambles alone. If his goons are outside, you need to poison him without him calling for help. If any of his men stay in the suite while he plays, you need to kill them.”
“Fine, I got it.”
“Just remember, Dewey, be careful with the poison,” said Jenna. “There’s one antidote and it’s in Pyongyang. You can’t play around.”
“I’ll try not to.”
“Now get moving,” said Jenna. “He should be finishing dinner any minute. Good luck.”
“Was there anything more on Paria?” said Dewey.
“No, nothing.”
* * *
Yong-sik took a sip of wine and looked at Paria. Paria was talking on his phone, saying something in Arabic. Finally, he hung up the phone. He looked at Yong-sik’s interpreter.
“The objects we discussed are moving toward the Port of Nampo,” said Paria quietly. “They’ll be there in a few hours.”
“I will make sure we’re ready to receive them.”
“What about the”—Paria paused, looking around, then whispered—“objects?”
Yong-sik glanced to a table nearby. A man in a dark suit met his eyes and nodded.
“They’ve been put aboard your plane,” said Yong-sik.
“Excellent,” said Paria, smiling.
“I’m grateful,” said Yong-sik, reaching out and shaking Paria’s hand. “My country is grateful.”
“As are we,” said Paria. “The … objects are all capable of hitting the United States,” he whispered. “Just put them on the launchpad, hit the button, and say bye-bye Los Angeles, Chicago, New York, Boston. You get the picture. Now, I must go.”
“Why such a rush?” said Yong-sik.
“I am flying back tonight.”
Paria quietly scanned the dimly lit restaurant.
“Too many people want me dead,” said Paria, standing. “Macau isn’t safe, not for anyone.”