Full Force and Effect

26

The flight from Chicago O’Hare to Reagan National was only ninety minutes in duration, but thirty-five-year-old CIA officer Adam Yao climbed up the jetway looking like he’d traveled halfway around the planet. And with good reason. This flight to D.C. was the end of nearly twenty-four hours of commercial air travel for Yao that began on the other side of the world and had left his body clock utterly confused. Although it was mid-morning now, Adam’s brain thought it was somewhere around midnight. After sleeping poorly in coach as well as traveling across nearly half the world’s time zones he struggled with the task of putting one foot in front of the other, and he noticed he was leaning onto his carry-on as he walked for balance.

Adam Yao’s flight from Singapore to D.C. was a three-legged odyssey that took him through Tokyo and Chicago before depositing him bleary-eyed and achy here at Reagan National. It was just nine-thirty a.m.; he’d love nothing more than to check into a hotel for a few hours’ rest before making an appearance at work, but his instructions were to get himself to McLean, Virginia, as soon as possible.

He planned on renting a car, but as soon as he turned his phone on after touchdown he received word a driver was outside in the arrivals area. He had no checked luggage — rare for a man flying halfway around the globe — so he stepped out into the bright morning and found a black Lincoln Navigator waiting for him.

Adam was an operations officer with the Central Intelligence Agency, but he was no desk-riding embassy spook with diplomatic cover. He’d spent a good portion of his young career working in Hong Kong under non-official cover, meaning he worked out in the shadows. After Hong Kong he was transferred back to Langley for several months of desk work, but the very week he was cleared to return to NOC status he was wheels up for Singapore, desperate to leave the boring bureaucracy of federal government employment behind and get back to what he loved to do.

Work in the shadows.

While the home office of Yao’s employer, the Central Intelligence Agency, was here in McLean, CIA was not his destination this morning. Instead, he was driven to Liberty Crossing, a gated government building complex not far away from Langley HQ.

There are two main buildings at the Liberty Crossing property off Lewinsville Road; they are virtually identical, and they are referred to by those in government as LX1 and LX2. LX1 houses the National Counterterrorism Center, and LX2 is the home of ODNI, the Office of the Director of National Intelligence.

Though the CIA was Yao’s employer, ODNI was the umbrella organization over all sixteen U.S. intelligence agencies, and this made ODNI Yao’s masters as well.

His identification was checked at the front gate, he was brought into the building and checked again, his phone was placed in a tiny locker, he was scanned and wanded, and after all these measures, measures that he had endured countless times in his decade with a top-secret clearance, he was ushered into an office on the third floor of the building.

He waited alone for a moment. There was coffee in front of him, but he’d had so much this morning already on the flight over from Chicago that his stomach burned, so he didn’t touch it.

Adam did not have a clue why he had been recalled to the United States, and he certainly did not know why he was here at LX2 instead of the CIA building just a ten-minute drive away. He was pretty good at guessing when things like this happened, but at the moment he was more tired than curious, so he just sat there.

Until a side door to the conference room opened.

When it did Adam glanced up, then he immediately launched to his feet. Entering the room alone was Brian Calhoun, the CIA’s director of National Clandestine Service. Calhoun was the head spy at the Agency, nearly at the top of the pecking order and so many rungs above Adam Yao he’d need a pen and a sheet of paper to figure out just how many positions separated them.

He’d never met Calhoun, outside a brief handshake during a debrief last year, but Yao was a fan, and now he wished he’d bothered to check the knot of his tie in the bathroom. He imagined he looked like hell, and Adam Yao was a young man who liked to make a good impression with his appearance.

Adam chanced a look behind the director of NCS as he entered, thinking for sure Calhoun would be followed by a gaggle of underlings, but instead Calhoun shut the side door himself and crossed the conference room with a smile.

“Son, that flight was a bitch, wasn’t it?”

“Oh, I’m fine, sir.”

“Then you’re a better man than me. Singapore to D.C. always kicks my ass. Australia’s worse, but not much.”

Adam said, “I managed some sleep along the way. I’m good to go, sir.” It wasn’t true, but he assumed Calhoun wasn’t here to listen to him complain about air travel.

“Take a seat.”

Both men sat down at the large table.

“I talked to your control officers on the fifth floor. I’ve read pretty much every report you’ve filed for the last nine months. You are doing a hell of a job.”

“Thank you, sir.” Adam couldn’t help it. His mind was spinning, trying to figure out what this was all about. A promotion? That would have surprised him. He had not been at his new assignment for long at all. Unless someone above him he didn’t know had moved on, it didn’t seem likely they’d pull Adam out of NOC work to move him back to Langley. And unless he was being promoted to station chief, a half-dozen steps above his level now, then Brian Calhoun wouldn’t be involved in the promotion.

That meant, to Adam, that Calhoun must be here because of a new operation. A good NOC, no matter how deep he is in his cover and no matter what it is he is doing, knew he could be moved at any time. But again, Adam thought to himself, the damn head of the service shouldn’t be the guy doling out the op orders.

“Your work in Singapore is going nicely, so far. And what you did in Hong Kong was nothing short of magnificent.”

“Thank you very much,” Adam said.

“But we rushed you back home like this because we have a new opportunity, and we think you might be just the man for the job.”

“A new operation?”

“Potentially, yes.”

“Okay,” Adam said, a hint of confusion bleeding through into his voice.

Calhoun cocked his head. “Something wrong?”

Adam smiled apologetically and said, “You can understand my confusion, sir. Normally my control officer, or maybe a section head, would brief me. I find it more than surprising that someone like yourself is talking to me about a new assignment.”

Now it was Calhoun’s turn to smile. “Yao, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

As if on cue, the same side door opened and Mary Pat Foley, the director of national intelligence, entered the room. Adam rose to his feet quickly, and Calhoun did the same.

Yao never saw top-level IC execs without three or four attendants and subordinates. It was confusing to him to see both Calhoun and Foley unaccompanied.

“Good morning, Adam.”

“Madame Director.”

“I heard you flew in from Singapore.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And then we rushed you here without a shower?”

Adam reddened with embarrassment. “Is it that obvious?”

Mary Pat smiled without responding, then she, Calhoun, and Yao sat at the conference table. “How far did we get?” she asked Calhoun.

“He’s still in the ‘what the hell is going on?’ phase.”

Foley laughed. “Unfortunately, Adam, some government servants spend their entire career in that phase. Not you, though. I’ll explain everything. First, I assume Brian already gave you the whole obligatory ‘we love your work’ spiel?”

“Uh… yes, ma’am.”

“Then I will cut to the chase. Adam, what do you know about the mining sector in China?”

Adam raised his eyebrows, surprised by the question for a few reasons, but at least, as far as the topic was concerned, he found himself on firm ground. “Quite a bit. When I was working undercover in Hong Kong as a corporate investigations consultant I had a lot of issues with two of China’s six state-owned mining concerns. Chinalco and Minmetals. They were stealing technology from Western firms, and I worked to bring these transgressions to light.”

“And what about rare earth element mining in particular?”

He was still off kilter because he was in an ODNI conference room with the top intelligence official in the U.S. government, but now he was more intrigued by this mysterious operation than he was by the manner it was being presented to him. “That’s huge over in China. They are the player in the industry, controlling over ninety percent of the world’s extraction and supply.”

“Go on,” Mary Pat said.

Adam smiled. If this was a test, he was about to nail it. “There are seventeen rare earth minerals, and they all occur together, so while a rare earth deposit might have a higher relative proportion of one of the minerals as opposed to another, a rare earth mine extracts all of the minerals together as ore, and then sends it off to be processed.

“Rare earths are divided into two categories: light and heavy.

“China extracts the majority of the world’s rare earth minerals for a number of reasons: Low labor costs and negligible environment standards for a process that is very hard on the environment allow them to price the goods cheaply. But the main reason for China’s supply-side dominance is the discovery of massive mineral deposits. They simply have more of the stuff than anyone else. Having said that, they also use more of it than anyone else. China ran into trouble due to its explosive growth. Its manufacturing sector began using more of the rare earths just as its demand for other commodities increased, and this left less available to export, increasing the cost of the commodity.

“Australia has been increasing its mining in the past few years, as has the U.S., but they are whistling in the wind in this industry.”

“Why do you say that?”

“China will always be at a competitive advantage with the West. They have absurdly low labor costs, their mines operate on government land without paying for the privilege, there are virtually no environmental regs for them there. We have some rare earth mining in the West, but we pay a lot more to get the commodity out of the ground and processed than the Chinese ever will.”

Calhoun slapped Yao on his back, startling him. He looked to Mary Pat. “I told you Yao would know his stuff.”

Adam clarified, “I know a good bit about the Chinese rare earth operations, the major players and the regions where they mine the ore. And I understand the technique of the mining and the ore processing in a general sense, but I sure couldn’t operate a gas scrubber at a rare earth mine or anything like that.”

Mary Pat said, “We don’t need you with a pick down in a shaft, but we were hoping you would already possess some knowledge about the industry.”

“That I do,” Adam said. He was humble about a lot of things, but he had been sitting in China, Hong Kong and then Singapore for the past few years totally engrossed in the Chinese economy. He had all the confidence in the world about his deep knowledge of it.

Mary Pat then asked, “And what about the illegal rare earth mining industry in China?”

“Sure,” he said, a little less confidently. “Gangster mines. Illegal private corporations run by Chinese organized crime have big REM mines in Inner Mongolia as well as other places. They are successful because local and regional governments benefit from them. The gangsters pay bribes and such.” He chuckled. “And if you think the government-run mines fall short of environmental standards, the gangster miners are a whole lot worse.”

Foley turned to Calhoun and nodded. Adam realized he’d passed some sort of a test, but he wasn’t sure what that had earned him. Calhoun leaned forward on his elbows. “We have one hell of a problem, and we have one hell of an opportunity.”

“You want to put me into a Chinese mine?” Adam knew the Chinese government had tried to kill him once, in Hong Kong. They got close, so close it was clear an intelligence breach had occurred that gave them information about Yao and his actions. He wasn’t crazy about working in China, and he felt awkward about the fact it looked like he’d have to remind these two in front of him of his unique situation.

But Calhoun shook his head and said, “No. We’d need you to go into China for a very short time to establish your cover, but we are confident we have a way to make that happen. Your ultimate destination would, instead, be somewhere else.”

Adam relaxed a little, but he was careful not to show it. “Okay, where do you need me to go?”

Mary Pat took over. “Your file says you speak Korean.”

“Just fair. I spent a semester in high school as an exchange student in Seoul, then I returned for a semester of college. Studied the language in school, and took a night class while doing NOC work in HK.”

The two intelligence executives nodded at the young officer. They knew all this already.

Adam asked the next question with some concern. “We are talking about me going into South Korea. Correct?”

When the answer did not immediately come from either Foley or Calhoun, Adam just muttered, “You’ve got to be kidding.”

Mary Pat answered now. “What would you say if I told you we have a way to get you into North Korea?”

“I would respectfully ask you to provide a little more information.”

The room was tense, but Foley laughed. “That is understandable. Nearly two years ago Chinese geologists and miners working in the DPRK found deposits in the mountains of the Chongju region near their northern border with China. They dug test shafts and confirmed the find, then began establishing the infrastructure for extraction.”

Adam had heard something about this, but it had never been on his radar enough to look into it more closely.

Mary Pat said, “Then, about a year ago, Choi Ji-hoon threw the Chinese mining concern out of his country.”

“Why?”

“We don’t know. Some contractual issue, perhaps? What we do know is his new minister of mining, a man named Hwang, has recently allowed a group of illegal Chinese mining industry personnel into Chongju to work at the mine. Clearly he’s smart enough to know DPRK can’t extract the rare earths without expert help. The gangster miners are crucial to his operation.”

“Sounds prudent.”

“This gangster mining company is very experienced and well organized, but they have specialized in extraction, not processing. The North Koreans have to process the ore themselves now, they can’t very well hand it off to the Chinese after canceling the Chinese contract, so the illegal operation has established a front company in Shanghai for the sole purpose of obtaining processing technology and brainpower from abroad.” She paused. “Are you with me so far?”

Yao just nodded, urging her on.

“This company has been in contact with a Chinese national working at a rare earth mineral mine in California. We only found out about it because we’ve had a surveillance package on the man for some time. Initially we thought the man was working for Chinese intelligence. He is not. Quite the opposite, actually. He is a gangster miner himself who managed to get hired in the U.S. to headhunt talent at NewCorp, the American mining concern.

“We have the ability to intercept communications between the gangster mining company and their agent in California. We know what the Chongju rare earth — processing plant needs as far as specialized labor. They are rushing to find the right people for the jobs, because in just two weeks they will be sending another group into North Korea to work at the mine and the processing plant. Our plan is to notify the gangster miners that he has recruited a Chinese American with knowledge of a critical piece of technology used in rare earth ore processing. That man, our man, will then fly to Shanghai to join the gangster miners, and from there go into Pyongyang along with the rest of the Chinese. He will go to Chongju under DPRK government control and work at the mine.”

Yao was astonished. This was a massive operation. “And report back to the U.S. some way?”

Calhoun answered this one. “That’s right. Science and Technology has some communications equipment that can go into DPRK. They say it is undetectable.”

Adam kept an impassive face, but he couldn’t help but think the eggheads at S&T wouldn’t be stood in front of a wall and shot if their “undetectable” device was somehow detected in the DPRK. If Adam went into North Korea, that fate would fall to him.

He muttered an unenergetic “Great.”

Mary Pat picked up on his doubt. “The North Koreans aren’t just allowing miners and processors into the country, they are also trying to get equipment in. The communications system will not travel with our asset. It will be embedded in a computer that our asset will have access to at the mine. We’ve learned a shipment of computers will be sent from Bulgaria to North Korea next week. We’ll have one of the machines altered with the hidden communications equipment. As long as our asset isn’t caught communicating with the device red-handed, our asset will be free and clear on this operation.”

“Yes, ma’am. I understand.” He noted that Mary Pat was speaking in general terms, still referring to the person going into North Korea as “our asset.” Clearly she wanted him to agree to go, but she wasn’t assuming anything yet, and this Adam appreciated.

He asked, “What specific intelligence are you trying to get from an asset in the Chongju mine?”

Mary Pat replied, “Satellites aren’t telling us what we need to know. Is there equipment in the mine in violation of sanctions? Are there personnel from other countries there? Experts? Specialists? How soon till that mine is generating revenue for the DPRK?”

“May I ask how many other CIA officers are operating inside North Korea?”

Mary Pat shook her head. “I can’t give you that information. I can only tell you that you will be working without a network in country.”

Adam assumed as much. If he went into the DPRK, he would be on his own. But this wasn’t the only thing bothering him. “I have to ask. Is this really that big an issue, considering all the other problems we have with North Korea? I mean, they are involved in illegal mining in violation of sanctions… but if you can get me in the country, shouldn’t I be trying to get a look at something more important than mining?”

Mary Pat said, “If possible, yes, you should. We see it as an incredible coincidence, and hopefully one we can capitalize on, that in a nation some forty-six thousand square miles in size, the Chongju mine happens to be located only twenty-four miles away from Sohae Satellite Launching Station. Sohae is where they launch their ICBMs.”

“That is a coincidence that probably seems a bit easier to capitalize on while we’re sitting here in Virginia. In country twenty-four miles might seem like a long way.”

She smiled. “Very true. And we’re not sending you there because of Sohae.”

Mary Pat shook her head. “President Ryan has dictated that this mine at Chongju represents a critical intelligence need of the United States.”

That sounded, to Adam, like hyperbole. He didn’t know Mary Pat Foley personally, but he knew that her reputation was of a supremely levelheaded individual. “What makes it a critical need?”

“Because estimates put the capacity under those mountains at two hundred thirteen million tons of heavy rare earth minerals. A value approaching, depending on market conditions, twelve trillion dollars.”

Adam reached out with both hands and took hold of the conference table. “Twelve trillion? That can’t be possible, can it?”

“It can. Is your imagination big enough to consider what all Pyongyang could buy with twelve trillion?”

Adam nodded slowly. “They could buy nukes, ballistic missiles, every bit of armament made by the Russians or the Chinese. They could buy technology and intellectual capital.”

Mary Pat leaned over the table. “They can buy all that, but they can also buy something more important. Friends.”

“Friends?”

“Votes in the UN. States that would go against official sanctions. Trading partners they can’t even dream of now. With that much money on the table, many nations who seem so perfectly resolute now in their insistence they won’t work with a rogue regime would suddenly find some flexibility in the issue.”

“Right.”

Mary Pat added, “And someone outside of North Korea is already paying them for the right to extract minerals there. A lot of money. These hard currency payments are being converted into an expansion of North Korea’s missile program. The rocket tubes captured off the coast of North Korea last week were purchased with this money, and we assume there is a lot more money, and a lot more proliferation, going on out there that we don’t know about.”

Calhoun said, “You see why this Chongju mine represents a clear and present danger to the United States, don’t you?”

Adam’s answer was barely audible. He was still in awe. “I get it,” he said. “North Korea with hard currency is a bad thing.”

Mary Pat nodded and said, “Now. Back to you. If you accept this operation, you need to understand something. This is not going to be a career maker for you, simply because you don’t need it. What you did in HK last year was more than enough to make your career. Your trip to North Korea is going to be one hundred percent risk for not much reward.”

Adam shrugged. “Maybe everybody says this, Director Foley, but I’m not looking for advancement. I’m looking for a challenge.”

She eyed him for a moment. Then looked away. “My husband and I loved what we did. There are a thousand frustrations and a million levels of bullshit with this job, but at its core, it can be one hell of a thrill, can’t it?”

Adam grinned. “Nothing like it.”

Calhoun nodded silently.

Mary Pat said, “We think our plan to get you in, established, and reporting back is solid. I just need to know if you will volunteer to go. So?”

Adam didn’t hesitate. “So… let’s do this.”

Mary Pat said, “Good. But remember, they don’t call it gangster mining without reason. You will be in danger from the people you are around the moment you get off the airplane in Shanghai.”

“I understand.”

“Time is critical, so we’ll need to get you up to speed very quickly. After a few days here you will go to California to learn the skills you need to backstop your legend. You have today to rest up and we’ll start tomorrow prepping you.”

The adrenaline coursing through Adam Yao dictated the next words out of his mouth. “I can start right now.”

Mary Pat shook her head. “Nope. Your national intelligence director is directing you to a hotel to sleep and take a shower. You’ll thank me in the morning. We’ll have someone drive you and then bring you some food, toiletries, and a change of gear. Tomorrow morning CIA will pick you up and begin a quick workup of your legend before you’re off to California.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said.