Chapter 66
The People’s Republic of China
Peng paced the vast videoconference room at MSS headquarters, his blood pressure soaring. The big screen on the wall was black and flashed giant red sinograms that read “No connection” on the other end of the broadcast.
Colonel Chang was twenty-seven minutes late on his video call—something was clearly wrong. He supposed it was a technical issue, but his intuition feared something far worse.
The last message Peng got from Chang was a cell phone call informing him the traitorous wench Zhang was in the colonel’s custody.
They also set up an appointed time for the conference call.
The colonel was conducting a preliminary interview with her, softening her up psychologically for Peng’s interrogation over the internet.
No matter what answers Zhang gave—true or false—he would then release Chang to do his worst to her short of death.
Chang would then escort her back to China, where Peng would personally mete out her agonizing execution.
With any luck, she would have already divulged all of the information he needed to assault the Guardian organization directly.
More important, he wanted to know how long she had been disloyal to him and to the state.
Suddenly, the videoconference screen beeped and the red sinograms flipped to green, reading “Connection secure.” The screen went from black to live action. Colonel Chang fell down into a chair in front of his laptop, his clothes slathered in drying blood.
Peng gasped.
“Colonel Chang! Are you wounded? What happened?”
The colonel fought back his emotions.
“I’m fine, comrade. The traitor Zhang killed one of my guards…and then killed herself.”
“How?”
“She slit her throat with the guard’s knife.”
“Foolish guard.”
Chang motioned at his ruined clothes. It was clear he had wiped blood off of his face as well. “I tried to stop Zhang’s bleeding, but it was too late by the time we broke through the door.”
Peng swore violently, something he hadn’t done in years. Self-control was a matter of both pride and decorum, especially in front of his lessers. But Zhang’s final act of betrayal was to rob him of the pleasure of torturing her to death for her many disloyalties.
“Please tell me you learned something about the Guardians before she took the coward’s way out.”
“Unfortunately, I can’t. She protested her innocence and said she could prove it.”
“It is impossible for me to express in any of the several languages I speak how desperately disappointed I am in your handling of this affair, Colonel Chang.”
The colonel sat up a little straighter.
“But there is some good news, sir.”
“How could there be?”
“While I was interrogating the traitor, my tech was attempting to break into Zhang’s computer. Unfortunately, it was biometrically password-protected—by voice command, actually.”
“That explains why she slit her throat,” Peng said. Had the biometrics been fingerprints or retinas, the colonel could have easily amputated the correct fingers or removed the eyes and applied them.
Peng nodded thoughtfully, secretly admiring Linlin’s tactical brilliance.
“By silencing her own voice, she robbed us of whatever valuable information she was trying to hide. Worse, she was demonstrating self-sacrificing loyalty to the bandit Guardians she was in thrall to. Colonel, I don’t have to tell you how important it is for you to personally return that computer to my office.
Perhaps one of our scientists can find a way to—”
“That won’t be necessary,” Chang interrupted Peng with a raised hand. “We found a way to break through.”
“How?”
“My tech took a sample of her voice from my video interrogation, ran it through an AI program, and manipulated it. He was then able to answer Zhang’s password prompts in her own voice and break into her computer.”
“Outstanding!” Peng beamed, unable to hide his excitement. “What have you learned?”
“Agent Zhang did, in fact, discover the AGI program you were searching for, along with an organoid computer to sustain it. The computer and program are known as Project Q.”
Peng’s elation turned to panic.
“Where is it located?”
“It’s located on board the research vessel Baktun in the far eastern Pacific. I’ll send you the coordinates, though they are only speculative.”
“Is it already online?”
“No, sir. According to her message, it launches in approximately forty-eight hours.”
Peng’s heart raced. There was still time to avoid total catastrophe—but just barely.
“Are you confident this information is correct, Colonel? Could it be a ruse? A magician’s diversion to hide something else?”
“She sent the message to a dead drop server address on the dark web. It is highly unlikely this was a trick, since Zhang never would have expected us to acquire her computer, let alone crack into it.”
Peng marched over to a desk phone and yanked up the receiver to make a call, still interrogating Chang. “Who owns this vessel? Who’s behind all of this? The Americans?”
“No, sir. It’s your Colombian contact, Amador Fierro. It’s his project entirely.”
Peng stopped dialing. “Are you sure?”
“According to the message Zhang sent.”
Peng nearly crushed the phone in his hand. It was yet another deception—and betrayal—by someone he thought was an ally.
“I’ll deal with Fierro myself,” Peng hissed. “Tell your tech he is a hero of the state and will be rewarded for it. You as well, Colonel. In fact, your entire team.”
“Thank you, sir. We are privileged to serve under—”
Peng snapped off the transmission, and punched the number for his secretary.
His PLA Navy liaison was on emergency standby for just such an event, as were the corresponding officers of the Air Force and Army.
The Central Military Commission had already granted Peng and any other ranking department head carte blanche for any operation regarding AGI.
Peng suddenly realized if he could capture the AGI he might well realize his lifelong ambition to achieve the Politburo Standing Committee and—dare he hope?—the chairmanship of the Party itself. China’s future, as well as his own, depended on capturing that ship.
“Get me Admiral Qian—top priority.”