Deceived (30 page)

"Charles?"
Carolyn said, eyes wide, a note of disbelief in her voice.

Whitford continued
to glare at Nick, still refusing to meet Carolyn's eyes.

"The man
who murdered Dennis, Jing-mei, you sent him, senator, didn't you?" Nick
pressed.

"I have no
idea what you're talking about."

"Carolyn,
I think the senator is here for a reason He found out I had escaped, and came
here as a precaution, in case I tried to contact you. If you don't believe me
walk to your front gate. There's a man there, hidden in the woods. He arrived
with the senator. I think that man's waiting for me, and I don't think he has a
warm welcome in mind."

"Charles,"
Carolyn asked again, and when he didn't answer the breath went out of her body.
"
Charles?
" she repeated after a few moments, now red in the
face. Her pupils dilated, the familiar wrinkles around her eyes stretched
taught. "You son-of-a-bitch," she exclaimed suddenly. "You goddamn
son-of-a-bitch.
"

Carolyn dropped
her head into her hands and spoke tonelessly. "
…
Nick, I can't take
this anymore. I can't sleep
…
can't eat
…
can't
…
I have to
tell you something."

"Carolyn
—
"
Whitford started, but Carolyn flared at him. "Not anymore. Things are
going to end, and they're going to end now." She closed her eyes. "What
happened? God, what happened? It was all so clear in the beginning. No one was
supposed to
…
" Her voice faded.

Nick reached
out his hand, the one not holding a gun, and laid it on her forearm. "What
was so clear?"

"She has
nothing to say," Whitford said desperately. "Nor do I. I am ordering
you, as a United States sen
—
"

Carolyn
interrupted, in the strong voice Nick had heard so many times before. "Tell
him, Charles. This ends
now
. No more deaths. Tell Nick
everything…
or
I will."

"Carolyn,
there's no reason to
—
"

"
Tell
him
, Charles."

For a moment
Whitford's face darkened; he looked from Nick to Carolyn and back, opened his
mouth to speak twice, then finally settled back into his seat. His face muscles
relaxed; his jaw unbunched.

"Very
well. Perhaps Mr. Ford does deserve some answers. Carolyn, why don't you offer
the young man a drink, or if you'd prefer
—
" Whitford produced a
lighter, set it on the desk to his side, then lifted a cigar from the inside
pocket of his jacket.

Nick shook his
head. "No thank you."

Whitford
shrugged and let the cigar drop back into the pocket. "You should enjoy
the pleasures of life while you can, young man. My doctor limits me to a cigar
a week
—
please don't be offended if I don't take this occasion to avail
myself of it. I prefer the porch at my home, on the swing."

"And I'd
prefer you to get to the point, senator."

"Getting
to the point, a trait I admire but don't often emulate. A fault of mine
—
I
blame it on my southern roots. We like to spread a little honey before eating
our bread."

"I just
saw two people killed, senator. I don't want rhetoric, I want an
explanation."

"All
right, then, let's get to it." Whitford locked onto Nick's eyes and held
his gaze for a half-dozen long seconds. "Mr. Ford, I've been a senator
since 1956
—
one hell of a long time. I've held office during the cold
war, the civil rights movement, Vietnam, Watergate, and Desert Storm. In that
time I've taken stands on thousands of issues, some popular, some not, but
every six years like clockwork Alabama voters send me back to the senate. Why? Because
they know I'll fight for God, the United States, and Alabama, in that order. I
always have, and always will. And I think, sir, I've earned the benefit of the
doubt on that score."

Nick
deadpanned, "All you've earned, senator, is time enough to tell your
story."

"Threats
don't become you, Mr. Ford." Whitford shrugged. "But then again, how
can I blame you. I suppose much of the unpleasantness might have been avoided
if we would have had this talk sooner. I take partial responsibility for that. Your
file, Mr. Ford, indicates you are a man who plays things by the book. A man who
follows the letter of the law. Admirable qualities, both, but unfortunately it
has been my experience that sometimes exigencies arise that the law doesn't
contemplate. Would you have seen that? Would you have been flexible? Your
psychological profile said no. And so we kept you in the dark, and now
…
Now
it seems we must tell you everything anyway, and
…
"

Whitford
paused. "Things happened, unfortunate things
…
but we never intended
it that way.
Never
."Nick could feel himself being appraised. "What
I'm about to tell you, at Carolyn's urging, involves U.S. national security. I'd
like you to agree not to disclose
—
"

"I won't
agree to a damn thing, senator."

Whitford nodded
glumly. He looked out the window for a moment, then at Carolyn who stared at
him icily as she repeated: "Tell him
everything
, Charles."

"It
seems," Whitford said, turning back toward Nick, "I'm forced to rely
on your patriotism. A rather archaic notion, don't you think?"

Nick said
nothing, looking instead to Carolyn who turned her stare to the floor
.

"I've known,
the government's known," Whitford continued finally, "all about John
Li's operation for over two years."

Nick looked at
the senator, incredulous. His mouth dropped. "You
what
?"

Senator
Whitford nodded. "Over two years," he repeated.

Over two
years!
Nick struggled to make sense of Whitford's words. "Carolyn, is
that true?" he asked, finally.

She nodded
slowly, looking past him.

"You knew
about Li's operation for two years, knew he was smuggling arms from the
country? Then why didn't you shut him down?"

"The
sixty-four thousand dollar question." Whitford picked up a pencil from his
desk and spun it in his fingers. "I'm not a hawk, Mr. Ford. Never have
been. I've seen war, watched young men die horrible deaths. Believe me, I never
want to see that happen again. But I also understand the causes of war. Rule
number one: weakness invites aggression. Unfortunately, the majority of
Americans no longer agree with me. The USSR dissolved. The public
feels
safe and so we're down-sizing our military. Do you realize the U.S. presently
has only the eighth largest army in the world? The
eighth.
"

Whitford beat
his cane on the ground for emphasis. "No matter what the public may
feel
,
the world is
not
a safe place. We
must
remain strong,
must
take precautions. Facts remain facts, and the fact that's most concerned me
over the last few years is that China, the most populous country in the world,
a country which, at her core, remains a dictatorship dominated by hard-line
communists, a country with a horrendous human rights record, is expanding and
upgrading its military as fast as possible."

Whitford locked
on Nick's eyes, as if willing him to understand the import of his speech. Nick
returned his stare coldly, and Whitford went on.

"We won
the cold war with the USSR for one overriding reason: the strength of our
economy
—
the USSR simply could not afford to compete in an era of
hi-tech, expensive weapons systems. She was never an economic power, only a
military one. China is a wholly different animal
.

"Go into a
Walmart, Mr. Ford. Grab a power saw off the shelf, or an electric drill, a pair
of pliers, any pair. Odds are 'Made in China' will be stamped on its side. Look
at garden equipment, calculators, Barbie dolls, lamps, tennis shoes, even
artificial Christmas trees for God's sake. China
is—
present tense
—
a
tremendous economic power, and it's only the beginning. Now she has reclaimed
Hong Kong, an economic power in its own right, and her appetite is wetted. Think
of Japan
—
a country of one hundred and fifty million or so people, but
with a GNP rivaling our own. Now imagine a China, with a population well over
one point two
billion
, every bit as technically advanced as Japan. It
will happen
…
a decade from now, maybe two or three, but it will happen. What
will we be faced with then?"

Nick looked to
the door, imaging a knock would sound any minute
—
the man from the woods,
checking on his charge. Was Whitford stalling for just such an opportunity to
yell out? "I think you had Dennis killed, senator," Nick said
impatiently. "I think you tried to have me killed. And you tell me about
China? What are you getting at?"

"I'm
painting a picture, sir. A dangerous one." The senator leaned in toward
Nick and lowered his voice, like a favorite uncle passing on the wisdom of a
lifetime. "Where will China employ its new military might, Mr. Ford? Any
guesses? How about Korea? China has encouraged North Korea's saber rattling
toward South Korea for years. Tensions in the demilitarized zone between the
two are at historic highs. Or the Spratly Island chain, the choke point of
Japan's oil supply lifeline? China, Vietnam and the Philippines all claim the
chain, but China escalated tensions by seizing key islands. Or the most likely
spot
—
Taiwan
—
which China claims as a possession and threatens to retake
by force? China has massed troops and battleships across the Taiwan Strait, has
conducted ballistic missile and artillery tests off Taiwan's coast. How long
before she makes good on her threats and invades?

"Who will
intercede, Mr. Ford? Russia? A decade ago, maybe; today, no. Russia has neither
the capability nor the desire to confront China. Europe? The European powers
have not been able to effectively project power overseas since the second world
war. Japan? Don't count on it, not with her almost non-existent military. I'll
tell you who will intercede, who will come to the aide of her allies just has
she has time and time again: we will. The United States of America.

 "What
will be the cost, Mr. Ford? How many lives will we lose? And do you doubt that
China will consider posturing with nuclear weapons? Count on it, that's the
Pentagon's position. They believe the communist regime stands ready to
sacrifice millions to reach its goal
—
people are, after all, one of its
most abundant and cheapest commodities. If you still doubt China's resolve,
recall her involvement in the Vietnam war, in the Korean war. Remember what
befell the people of Tibet, and never forget the butchery of Tiananmen
Square."

Nick's right
hand had begun to shake; he shifted the gun to his left and waived it at
Whitford. "Enough, senator. I don't need a history lesson; I don't need a
briefing on China. I need answers. Get to the point."

"The
point, sir? Like so many Americans, you're ignorant. You sit in comfortable
houses with washing machines and microwave ovens and movies of the week, and
don't want to think about the possibility of war. Someday you may have no
choice.

"I chair
the Senate Armed Services Committee; I
know
the facts. China has two
point nine million men in her army. Is the U.S. a superior military force
today? Yes, but Pentagon projections say that could some change. China is on a
purchasing binge: billions of dollars worth of Russian military equipment:
submarines, jets, rockets, ballistic missile technology. She now has at her
disposal dozens of Sukhoi Su-27 long range Russian fighters, two Russian
kilo-class submarines, over a dozen intercontinental missiles that target the
continental U.S., many more that target Taiwan. That's only the beginning. She
has orders for more of each and continues to work on the F-10, a fighter to be
manufactured in China incorporating F-16 technology. She's developed her own
anti-ship missiles based on the French Exocet. She's developing the supersonic,
swing-wing Hong-7 tactical bomber, and has obtained in-flight refueling
technology from Iran. She's tried to buy an aircraft carrier, and may be trying
to build one.

"What do
you notice about these items, Mr. Ford? Submarines, bombers, intercontinental
missiles, aircraft carriers? China is procuring weapons meant for
projecting
power, not defending her soil."

 Nick remained
stone-faced. "And if I accept all you've said? So what? You make no
attempt to explain why I was attacked, why Meg was attacked, why Dennis,
Jing-mei, and Scott are dead. Then you tell me China must be contained, say
she's a military threat, and yet you do
nothing
to prevent her from
smuggling hi-tech arms. Your own words damn you, senator."

"My own
words
vindicate
me, young man."

"Then make
me understand, senator. I'm running out of patience."

Senator
Whitford nodded. "Shortly before the British handed back Hong Kong, on the
highway running north from Hong Kong through the New Territories to Guangzhou,
a truck ran off the road. The driver died in the accident. When the local
police examined the truck's cargo
—
wooden crates supposedly full of
machine tools
—
they found a complex piece of electronic gear they
couldn't identify. They alerted British intelligence; British intelligence
called in the NSA. Turned out to be an artillery-control system for a MLRS
rocket launcher
—
an A-tek product."

Nick placed the
name instantly.
A-tek.
J.T. Frasier had headed up A-tek. He still didn't
know where Whitford was headed, but for the first time he became absorbed in
the story.

Whitford
continued. "The NSA traced the cargo to the port of Hong Kong, then to
Kiajong Shipping of Norfolk. That led them to John Li. The NSA investigated
very quietly, searching for the leak. How did the control system find its way
into John Li's hands? Their investigations pointed to A-tek's CEO, J.T.
Frasier. Once they had accumulated sufficient evidence against him, the NSA
confronted Frasier. Accused him of a host of crimes, including treason. I
understand that after a lengthy interrogation Mr. Frasier broke down and the
story came out. It seems Mr. Frasier had certain
…
predilections
…
he
kept from his wife and business associates. Mr. Li, however, managed to procure
a video featuring Mr. Frasier engaged in these activities. A very explicit
video, I understand. Mr. Frasier, another man, and a number of sexual toys.

"Li
approached Mr. Frasier with a business arrangement: the tape in exchange for an
A-tek computer chip. Li made it as easy as possible for Frasier
—
the chip
was an obsolete design of no value. Blackmail, to which Mr. Frasier succumbed. A
mistake. As you might expect, Li soon made other demands, threatening to expose
Mr. Frasier as a sexual deviant
and
a traitor if he didn't
cooperate."

Whitford
shrugged. "Mr. Li sunk the hooks deeper and deeper; in the end he owned
Mr. Frasier's soul."

Carolyn's head
rose slowly. "Nick," she started before her voice broke. She
swallowed and tried again. "You know how much military hardware is
smuggled from this country, to China, to Russia, to the Middle East,
everywhere. We've done studies, we've made recommendations, but we've never
been able to stop it
…
not even slow it down. And that doesn't even take into
consideration the legal transfer of technology to suspect regimes. The amount
involved, it's enormous. Our own corporations sell us out. You
know
that."

"So we
give up? Give Li a pass?"

"No, Mr.
Ford," Whitford said, resuming control of the conversation, "but
instead of hitting our heads against a wall, why not try a different tact? Why
not use Li's operation to suit
our
purposes? What happens to moles we
uncover within our borders? Sometimes we arrest them, but often it's in our
interest to turn them, to convince them to work for us. Double agents. Such an
opportunity was offered Mr. Frasier, the alternative being exposure and jail. He
accepted, and became a U.S. intelligence
asset
. An asset
you
threatened."

Carolyn said
hesitantly, "No one counted on Smith Pettit inflating billings, no one
counted on a GAO investigation, and no one counted on you being put in charge
of it. The NSA studied your background, your record, and everything they
learned heightened their concern. You're too good at your job, Nick. They
feared your audit of the Yünnan Project might have led you to Tremont
Engineering, the money laundering scheme, and eventually to Frasier and the
smuggling ring. They feared you might blow Li's operation wide open, and the
NSA's plans along with it, and couldn't take that risk."

Nick shut his
eyes, just for a second. Everything he knew fell into place: Carolyn's urging
to settle the Smith Pettit audit, his promotion. His promotion? Assistant
comptroller at thirty-five
—
a trick, a ploy, an illusion.
My God, what
a self-important fool he'd been.
"So you stopped me."

Carolyn looked
down and nodded shortly.

"She did
her duty, Mr. Ford," Whitford cut in. "Only her duty. Reluctantly,
and at my insistence. She promoted you out of our hair, then loaded you with so
much work you had no time for your old case work."

Carolyn
continued to stare at the floor as Whitford continued. "Dennis Lindsay
took over the Yünnan Project audit. Him we could control. We told him only
enough to carry out orders. Unfortunately, for everyone concerned, you didn't
leave well enough alone. You put yourself back in the picture."

"So you
stopped me."

"At first we
just monitored you," Whitford corrected "We had Lindsay on our side. And
we bugged your phone and computer. Whatever we learned, I passed on to J.T.
Frasier; he relayed it to Li. It was important he stay one step ahead of you. Li,
of course, knew nothing of my involvement, the government's involvement. He
simply believed Frasier had Lindsay in his pocket. The wire transfers to
Lindsay just completed the picture in Li's eyes. "But then you started to
get close
…
" Whitford shrugged.

"The
hearing. Our data files and spread sheets
—
the inflated numbers we
couldn't explain
—
the NSA was responsible?"

Whitford
shrugged again. "We needed to discredit your testimony. We needed you off
the case.
…
You should have agreed to a settlement, Mr. Ford. Things
would have been so much easier."

Nick felt sick.
"Why?" He looked to Carolyn. "Him I can understand, but
you?" Carolyn didn't answer, and Nick raised his voice. "Scott's
dead. And Meg
…
Dammit, why?
"

Whitford answered,
"Because she's a patriot, Mr. Ford. Because she loves her country." He
turned to Carolyn. "Would you like to explain the technical aspects,
Carolyn?"

Carolyn's right
hand, balled into a tight fist, covered half her mouth. She spoke quietly, her
voice enfeebled. "Computer viruses are spread by contact: they're either
loaded onto a computer from an infected storage device, downloaded from on-line
site, or imported from another computer or peripheral. The first viruses
infected computers instantly and visibly. Pretty innocuous and easy to
eradicate. Then hackers devised dormant viruses
—
viruses designed to
spread widely before revealing themselves
…
almost like the HIV virus in
humans."