The Identity Mine

XXV

‘Are you sure that’s the one?’

Vaughn kept a careful watch on the vehicle that was driving down a road toward Tai Tam harbor. Hannah drove, careful to keep her distance from the glossy black limousine as it cruised alongside a gorgeous mountain lake on one side and the sheer face of the Tai Tam Dam on the other, the harbor visible ahead and to their left.

‘It’s him all right,’ Hannah replied as she drove. ‘The plates match the traffic cam footage, but we can’t be sure that Mitchell’s aboard.’

Hannah could tell that Vaughn was uncomfortable with what they were doing. The brief from Director LeMay had been simple enough: track down Ethan Warner and Nicola Lopez and ensure that they were arrested and imprisoned for their crimes, by way of looking into the NSA abductions from 1997. Now, they were driving into unknown territory on Hong Kong Island, following a man known to be an assassin and completely ignoring LeMay’s orders.

‘And we don’t know where Warner and Lopez are right now,’ Vaughn pointed out.

‘We’ve got nothing,’ Hannah agreed. ‘Right now, Mitchell is our only lead and also a link to Warner. LeMay will understand.’

‘LeMay might think that you’re working for Jarvis and not the FBI.’

‘And what’s he going to do?’ Hannah challenged. ‘We’re following leads pertaining to the Stanley Meyer murder, leads that connect to both Ethan Warner and Aaron Mitchell. These leads could close the case. If he doesn’t like what we’re doing here then he’s going to have a hard time reprimanding us about it — he damned well sent us!’

Vaughn gestured ahead. ‘The limousine’s turning.’

Hannah frowned as she looked ahead and saw the black vehicle turn right off the road and into a secluded forest. A barrier protected the entrance but it was open to allow tourists into the public park that surrounded the dam’s reservoir.

‘You think he’s going for a stroll in the countryside?’ Vaughn quipped.

‘How far does this go?’

Vaughn glanced at a map of the island in his lap.

‘Half way back to the city,’ he replied. ‘It’s a tourist trail and nature walk and the road runs right along it for about five clicks before you reach the edge of the city.’

Hannah frowned as she followed the limousine, allowing it to disappear infrequently around turns in the road which wound its way between soaring forests cloaking the mountains. There was not a lot of traffic on the road and only the occasional tourists on pushbikes.

‘What the hell is he doing all the way out here?’ she asked out loud.

Vaughn frowned. ‘If we know Mitchell, it’s nothing good. Maybe he wants to get out of the way of Hong Kong’s surveillance for some reason?’

Hannah did not reply as she drove, and then she saw the limousine pull over through the trees. Hannah eased the car by as she watched the limousine cruise into a small parking area in the woods. Through the trees she could see a series of trails vanishing up into the hills, the area devoid of tourists.

Hannah pulled over to the roadside and opened her door.

‘Mitchell will have noticed us behind him,’ she said. ‘We can’t risk pulling into the same lot. You drive on and find another, then double back for me. I’ll stay on Mitchell.’

Vaughn shook his head. ‘He’s dangerous, you can’t do this on your own. You saw what happened to Meyer and…’

Hannah got out of the car and shut her door before jogging away from their vehicle. She reached the edge of the tree line as she heard Vaughn drive away, no doubt cursing her to high heaven. She walked for a few minutes back up the road until she reached the parking lot.

The lot was deserted but for the black vehicle parked now alongside a narrow trail winding its way into the woods. The wind whispered through the leaves, dappled sunlight shimmering on the forest floor and reflecting off the vehicle’s glossy paintwork.

In for a penny…

Hannah stepped out from behind the trees and forced herself not to draw her weapon as she walked across the lot toward the car. She could tell even from a distance that the windows were mirror — black tinted, veiling the interior of the vehicle from prying eyes. Private plates, the vehicle otherwise unmodified and equally unremarkable. She could tell that the vehicle was unoccupied as she peered through the front window, so she moved on into the forest and followed the nearest of the trails.

She could hear no birdsong as she moved, a possible indicator that somebody had recently moved up the trail ahead of her, silencing the wildlife. She had read once that a forest requires around fifteen minutes to return to normal after a human being has passed through, and she reckoned that Mitchell could only be a couple of minutes ahead of her.

The sound of a branch or twig snapping from somewhere off the trail caught her attention and she froze, one hand resting on the butt of her pistol as she looked ahead through the trees. A muffled wheezing sound drifted to her on the faint breeze. Hannah looked over her shoulder to ensure that nobody was approaching from behind before she edged forward to where a dense thicket of vines and foliage concealed a small clearing amid the towering trees.

Another twig snapped, and Hannah eased forward to the edge of the thicket and then she froze once more as she surveyed the scene before her.

Bound to a tree trunk, his mouth gagged, was a Chinese man perhaps in his late fifties or early sixties. His brow was sheened with sweat and his face pinched with agony as he writhed against his bonds.

Another sharp crack, and now Hannah realized that the man’s arms were tied back around the far side of the tree and that she could see a tall, broad figure partially concealed there. The Chinese man screamed behind his gag and Hannah saw the shadowy figure wielding what looked like some sort of metal tool. She drew her side arm and waited, watching as the bound man wept, his head hanging low as the shadowy figure emerged from behind the tree with a pair of bloodied plyers in his hand.

Aaron Mitchell was physically larger than she had anticipated, the images she had studied for so long not doing justice to his frame. She figured maybe six four, two hundred fifty pounds and no fat that she could make out under a thin white shirt that bulged with muscle.

Mitchell moved to stand before his victim and waved the plyers in front of his face.

‘Don’t make me start on the front,’ he growled as he yanked the gag from the man’s mouth. ‘Kowloon, 1997. Start talking or you’ll never see your family again.’

The Chinese man’s features twisted in a volatile mixture of pain and rage as he spat his response.

‘Go to hell!’

Mitchell watched his captive for a moment and then shrugged. ‘So be it.’

The big man drew back his elbow and Hannah realized that he was about to plunge the plyers directly into the victim’s groin. The captive screwed up his face and gritted his teeth in anticipation of the unthinkable pain he was about to endure when Hannah stepped into the clearing and aimed her pistol at Mitchell.

‘That’s enough.’

Mitchell looked over his shoulder at her, an expression of mild surprise on his features as he remained motionless, the plyers inches from his victim’s body.

‘Drop the tool,’ Hannah uttered, her pistol aimed between Mitchell’s eyes.

Mitchell turned slowly to face her but did not drop the plyers. ‘You don’t know what you’re doing.’

Hannah raised an eyebrow. ‘Stopping you from killing somebody else, I’d say. Hands up!’

Mitchell did not move.

‘You’ve got about four minutes before we’re all dead,’ he said calmly. ‘I suggest you use them wisely.’

Hannah frowned at the big man. ‘You don’t expect me to believe that? Get down on your knees right now!’

‘Less than four minutes,’ Mitchell replied. ‘Either I extract the information that I know this man possesses, or neither of us will find out what really happened in Kowloon in 1997.’

Hannah kept her aim steady. ‘We can find that out at the Consulate’

‘You’re very naive,’ Mitchell growled.

‘And you’re a murderer!’ Hannah shouted. ‘I’ve already got you for one killing and it looks like you’re set for another right here!’

‘Needs must,’ Mitchell replied. ‘Three minutes.’

Hannah felt her pulse begin to race as she looked at the elderly man bound to the tree.

‘What does he know?’ she demanded.

‘Everything,’ Mitchell replied. ‘He works for Chinese intelligence as a hacker and has done so for many decades.’

‘I’m a financial consultant,’ the injured man whimpered, ‘for Hei Sing Bank in Kowloon. Call them, they’ll confirm it! And call the police!’

‘It’s a cover,’ Mitchell replied. ‘The bank has been infiltrated by hackers who use it as a staging post to attack western digital interests and military installations. We’ve known about them for some time.’

‘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.’