The Identity Mine (Warner & Lopez Book 3) Read online

  ‘That’s a lie!’ the captive wailed. ‘He’s insane, he’s going to kill me! I have a family!’

  Mitchell kept his eyes on Hannah. ‘Three minutes, Agent Ford.’

  ‘How do you know my name?’

  ‘I know more than you about a lot of things, and right now the only thing standing between me and preventing another attack on our country is you.’

  Hannah’s grip on her pistol felt slick and conflicting emotions raced through her mind as she glanced at the man tied to the tree.

  ‘This isn’t the way to do it,’ she snapped.

  ‘On the contrary, this is the way it’s always been done,’ Mitchell countered. ‘Not much more than two minutes, Agent Ford, before this man’s associates arrive. Believe me, if you want to end up floating in Kowloon harbor you’re going the right way about it.’

  Hannah shot the Chinaman a glare. ‘Start talking!’

  The captive’s eyes flew wide as horror paled his complexion. ‘But I don’t know any…!’

  Mitchell whirled and the plyers clamped down on the captive’s groin and were twisted violently. The hellish scream of agony that soared from the captive’s lips was silenced by Mitchell’s other hand that clamped down on the victim’s mouth, virtually covering the smaller man’s face as the plyers bit deep. Hannah’s guts convulsed in sympathy as she witnessed his torture.

  Mitchell yanked the plyers free and removed his hand. The captive’s hellish cries faded into choked sobs that coughed from his heaving chest as he wept openly.

  ‘1997, talk fast,’ Mitchell growled.

  The captive did not respond and Mitchell moved the plyers in again.

  ‘We took them,’ the captive gasped finally.

  ‘Took who?’ Mitchell demanded.

  ‘The operatives, from the NSA,’ the man whimpered. ‘They were on Kowloon Bay, on a pleasure boat during a break from a neurotechnology symposium. Agents were sent in and they abducted them, took them to the north shore and then into China.’

  ***

  XXVI

  Mitchell glanced over his shoulder at Hannah, who lowered her weapon as she stared at the Chinaman’s tortured face.

  ‘Everything, Jin Chen, if you want to survive this,’ Mitchell snapped.

  The agonized victim sucked in a trembling breath as he replied.

  ‘We’d been watching them for months, waiting to see what they were doing. We knew about the listening posts in Hawaii of course, but it wasn’t possible to spirit NSA operatives away from there to China without being intercepted. Kowloon was much closer, so we focused on the embassies and CIA fronts based there.’

  Hannah stepped forward. ‘What happened to them?’

  Jin Chen struggled for breath, mastering his pain.

  ‘They were interrogated for weeks, deep inside the mainland. The purpose was to break down their will before then showing them kindness and compassion, winning their “hearts and minds” as you Americans say. It took time and a great deal of suffering on their part, but we were helped by America’s media suggesting that they had died in a boating accident: the agent’s families were not looking for them anymore, and the American government was more interested in hiding the existence of its listening posts than protecting its own people.’

  ‘How far did they help you?’ Hannah pressed.

  ‘They were invaluable,’ he replied. ‘Our technology leaped immensely just from those four individuals, and the devices they carried revolutionized our understanding of neurology.’

  ‘What’s the connection to the attacks in America?’ Mitchell pressed.

  Chen drew another breath. ‘I don’t know about any attacks in…’

  Mitchell slammed the plyers against the man’s groin but did not twist them.

  ‘Please, no!’ the captive shrieked.

  ‘Give me a reason not to.’

  Chen’s features imploded with the helplessness of his situation.

  ‘We reverse engineered the neural implant technology that the NSA operatives were found with,’ he said finally. ‘Then we developed it over the next decade. We used the NSA operatives as test subjects, controlling them, improving the work.’

  ‘What work?’ Hannah asked, but was silenced by a harsh glare from Mitchell.

  ‘What’s the connection?’ Mitchell demanded once more. ‘How did they end up in the heads of our personnel?’

  Jin Chen sagged against his bonds, sweating profusely from the pain wracking his body.

  ‘We used the Iraq war as a means to test the devices more thoroughly by implanting them into the brains of American servicemen fighting in the conflict. We could not enter Iraq directly, so instead we used our finest operatives disguised as American soldiers to abduct an Iraqi software engineer’s family on the threat that his family would be executed if he did not comply. We used him to smuggle implants into Basra’s hospitals, where they were implanted into American service personnel.’

  Hannah stared at the Chinaman in disbelief.

  ‘You were trying to remotely control human beings?’ she gasped in horror.

  ‘What happened to the engineer?’ Mitchell demanded.

  ‘When we were done with him, we executed the engineer and his family, our people disguised as American soldiers,’ Chen replied. ‘We could afford no links back to us so they had to die. But one of them escaped, a teenage boy.’

  Hannah felt a pulse of alarm surge through her. ‘What was his name?’

  ‘Abrahem,’ came the reply. ‘Abrahem Nassir.’

  Mitchell glanced at Hannah. ‘This could all be about revenge.’

  Hannah nodded as she looked at the captive. ‘How did the Chinese implant our service personnel after the war ended?’

  Jin Chen shook his head. ‘We didn’t. The boy, Abrahem, he grew up during the occupation of Iraq and become one of a small team of smugglers we used to supply a German doctor in Basra, who was paid to implant the devices on our behalf into your servicemen. We didn’t know it was Abrahem of course, so many years having passed by. On our last run, Abrahem did not deliver the devices to the American hospital and instead disappeared. We’ve been looking for him ever since.’

  ‘How far did you get?’ Mitchell demanded.

  Chen sighed.

  ‘The last known position of Abrahem Nassir was on a boat from Basra to somewhere on the African coast, but we don’t know where. Intelligence suggests that countries like Somalia represented the best place for someone like Nassir to hide, but we had no known location to search.’

  ‘What was his assumed destination?’ Hannah asked, fearful that she already knew the answer.

  Chen smiled through his pain, as though his answer was a bitter victory for him.

  ‘America,’ he said. ‘Nassir thinks you killed his family, just as you murdered so many thousands of innocent Iraqis in your war for oil. The President of the People’s Republic of China is already in the United States in preparation for a ceremony to mark China’s integration into the Trans Pacific Partnership deal, and Nassir’s likely target will be either him or the American President, or both. It is already too late to stop him.’

  Mitchell looked across at Hannah. ‘Where is your partner?’

  Hannah’s heart leaped in her chest as she realized that Vaughn had not yet shown up.

  ‘Who’s pursuing you?’ she countered as she glanced over her shoulder in the hopes that Vaughn would be somewhere behind her.

  The plyers hit her across the face even as she turned back to Mitchell. The blow caught her off balance, pain ripping across her scalp, but even as she fell she tried to swing her pistol around and take aim at Mitchell.

  A heavy boot slammed across her wrist and her pistol spun from her grip as she crashed down onto the forest floor. Hannah’s breath bolted from her lungs as she tried to get up, her right arm numb from the wrist up, but she saw Mitchell loom above her and then suddenly his muscular arms wrapped around her neck and tightened like a metal vice.

  Hannah’s eyes bulged and her
throat collapsed as Mitchell squeezed with unbearable strength. Hannah reached out for his face, her nails scraping across his skin and seeking his eyes, but the powerful man buried his face in her shoulder to protect it and her arms flailed uselessly for a moment and then sank to her sides as though of their own accord.

  Moments later, Hannah’s vision turned to black and she lost consciousness.

  *

  The gunshots were loud in the otherwise silent forest as the men hurried up the hillside, their weapons drawn, their eyes seeking motion amid the towering trees and dense foliage. Dark suits, designer sunglasses, black hair and stern expressions.

  They moved without words, silent glances and nods all that was required for them to systematically advance until they reached a clearing deep in the forest. They slowed, edging their way closer, weapons trained on the clearing and the body they could see lying on the forest floor.

  A woman, dressed in heeled boots, gray slacks and a white shirt, a gun in her open hand.

  Opposite her, a Chinese man with his skull shot through, the fingers of one hand bloodied and bent out of shape, his groin thick with matted blood and a pair of plyers in one hand. Behind him, a length of rope cut through with the plyers lay around the trunk of a nearby tree.

  The armed men surveyed the scene and the wound to the woman’s head where she had been struck, and then they moved forward as their leader, a stocky, older man, leaned down and searched for a pulse in the Chinaman’s neck. He waited for a moment and then shook his head.

  ‘He’s gone. They killed Jin Chen.’

  The leader stood upright as he turned and watched as from behind him his colleagues carried the body of a man that they tossed into the clearing. Vaughn’s face was badly beaten, his eyes swollen as he slumped onto the forest floor and lay in silence.

  ‘This must be his partner,’ one of them said as he pointed to the woman. ‘The FBI, they always work in pairs. They must have been torturing Jin Chen.’

  Another stepped forward and aimed down at Hannah Ford’s body. ‘Let’s finish them, right now.’

  The leader’s arm swung out and belayed the pistol, pushing it up into the air as he looked down at Hannah Ford.

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘I have a better idea.’

  ***

  XXVII

  Joint Base Andrews,

  Prince George’s County,

  Maryland

  Ethan felt the wheels of the Boeing C–40B Clipper aircraft thump down on the runway at Andrews, the enormous airbase flashing by as the aircraft’s brakes and reverse thrusters were applied.

  A squadron used for transport by members of the administration, the 89th Airlift Wing included the President’s famous USAF VC–25, a converted Boeing 747 known as Air Force One when the President was aboard. Ethan was sat in a plush leather chair which he had extended fully, allowing him some precious sleep after the flight from the USS Harry S. Truman to Saudi Arabia. There, they had boarded the US Navy’s Clipper and flown to Ramstein in Germany for a refuel before then continuing on across the Atlantic to Washington DC.

  Ethan unstrapped himself from the comfortable seat as Lopez yawned and stretched nearby, glancing briefly out the window.

  ‘Are we there yet?’

  Ethan got up as he grabbed his jacket and back pack. ‘Let’s just hope we’re here in time.’

  A Navy Lieutenant hurried back to join them as the aircraft taxied in, his fresh faced appearance belying his experience and authority.

  ‘A transport is awaiting you and your contact at the Defense Intelligence Agency is also ready to brief you. You’ll be taken directly to the headquarters of the National Security Agency.’

  A glossy black limousine rolled out across the servicing pan and slid in alongside them as they descended the steps from the huge aircraft, the lieutenant opening the door for them to climb aboard. Inside, Jarvis awaited them.

  ‘Welcome back,’ he said. ‘We don’t have much time so I’ll be brief. There’s been a major breakthrough and now we’re looking at an imminent terrorist attack.’

  ‘The ceremony on the South Lawn tomorrow,’ Ethan confirmed as the limousine moved off. ‘It’s the perfect target for Abrahem Nassir, and the Presidents of two countries he may have a grievance against will be there.’

  ‘We won’t have long to locate and apprehend Abrahem,’ Jarvis agreed, ‘so we’ve been given Stellar Security Clearance courtesy of the administration and the Joint Chiefs of Staff. We’re heading to the NSA, so you’ll need to sign these.’

  Ethan looked down at a pair of non–disclosure agreements as Jarvis handed each of them a pen.

  ‘What have they got in there?’ Lopez asked.

  ‘Like I said, you’ll have to see that to believe it,’ Jarvis replied. ‘I could barely believe it myself, and you won’t be seeing anything until you’ve signed those NDAs.’

  Ethan and Lopez signed the agreements, and Jarvis remained silent during the short journey from Joint Base Andrews to the NSA Headquarters.

  Ethan looked up at the NSA’s glossy black building, a gigantic rectangle of mirrored glass that reflected a shadowy version of the world beyond, the blue skies and white clouds muted and warped. Ethan knew that behind that mirrored glass were layers of copper and more glass to make sure that signals stayed within the agency, protecting it against electronic eves–dropping.

  ‘Keep your mouths shut and your eyes straight ahead,’ Jarvis said to them as the vehicle in which they were travelling pulled into the NSA’s massive parking lots and began processing through the security check points. ‘You’re cleared to be here, but only because of the seriousness of the situation and the president’s personal say so.’

  Ethan expected Lopez to utter some quip, but she too seemed subdued as the vehicle closed in on the massive building.

  The National Security Agency had been established by President Truman in 1952, its purpose simple and direct; protect the United States of America against the intelligence gathering forces of other nations, and simultaneously gather intelligence on said nations. Within that remit and with ever increasing levels of sophistication, the NSA had used the rapidly evolving technology known as SIGINT – Signals Intelligence – to pursue its purpose, that of absolute knowledge and absolute control of intelligence across the globe. Although many people around the world had heard of other agencies such as the FBI and the CIA, and despite the fact that the CIA was indeed the senior agency, it remained that few people knew of the existence of the NSA nor of the fact that all other agencies in the United States of America relied upon it for both Signals Intelligence and cryptographic analysis.

  Working alongside the United Kingdom’s GCHQ, along with similar such agencies in Canada, Australia and New Zealand, the pooling of resources between these agencies formed the backbone of Echelon, a much discussed and equally veiled communications analysis network that enveloped the world’s telecommunications. The satellites, optical fibre taps, Internet monitoring and cryptographic analysis resources of these combined networks made it possible, though not easy, to monitor the communications of almost any person on the face of the planet.

  ‘Do we know if Abrahem Nassir is in the country?’ Lopez asked as the vehicle eased through the security checkpoints.

  ‘No,’ Jarvis replied. ‘There’s no sign of him entering the US through a customs airport or seaport, which means that if he is here he can only have accessed the country via a private aircraft. We’ve been monitoring all flights into the continental United States from Africa, but he could have routed through Europe too.’

  ‘He would have had to jump before landing to avoid customs airports,’ Ethan pointed out, ‘if an aircraft had been used. That’s a tall order if you haven’t done it before.’

  ‘He must have sympathizers on our soil,’ Lopez added. ‘That could explain how this was all arranged. We know that there are US citizens supporting terrorist activities all the time, albeit in very small numbers. He must have moved from ally to ally across the globe
to end up here.’

  ‘Transport will most likely have been provided,’ Jarvis agreed, ‘along with other support to get him toward whatever destination he has in mind. Your questioning of the militants in Somalia revealed only that he was likely to be travelling here. Considering what I hear the SEALS put them through, I think it’s fair to say that if they had known anything more they would have said so.’

  ‘They were just pawns in Abrahem’s big game,’ Ethan said. ‘We’ve got to assume that his target is the Trans Pacific Trade ceremony at the White House, for which he could have dozens of implanted serving and former military personnel all available as potential assassins. Hell, much of the police force is made up of former soldiers. We could prevent one attack only for Abrahem to initiate another instead so he’s our only viable target. We’ve got to track this guy down or whatever’s coming will be like another Pearl Harbor, another nine–eleven.’

  ‘I know,’ Jarvis said, ‘which is why you’re here and with special clearance into the NSA Headquarters. The CIA and FBI are in the loop but they’re far behind the curve on this one, so you two have point right now. Whatever we find out here will guide what we do next on the ground. I only hope it’s enough.’

  Ethan looked at his surroundings through the vehicle’s tinted windows.

  ‘So this is where Echelon is based,’ he said as the vehicle descended into a below ground–level parking lot.

  ‘Echelon was the old version of our SIGINT capability,’ Jarvis replied as the vehicle whispered to a stop in the underground lot and he opened his door. ‘What we have now is known as PRISM.’

  Ethan followed Jarvis with Lopez alongside him as they walked at a brisk pace through the building, the seriousness of the situation giving the old man’s pace new vigour as they descended via an elevator into what Ethan realized was a subterranean section completely concealed from the outside world.