White Jade

Chapter Two

Nicholas Carter wasn't thinking about the grenade. He was thinking about the temperature gauge on his rental Ford, pegged in the red. He pulled into the parking lot at the Project and stepped out into the heat. Steam boiled under the hood. A green pool spread out under the car. His head felt like it was wrapped in iron. He wished he was back at his cabin in California, not standing in Virginia with his shoes sticking to the asphalt.

Carter scanned the surrounding area. He noted the parked cars, all empty. He crossed the lot to the building housing the Project, like hundreds of others in the Metro area. The only difference to a casual observer was the array of antennas bristling on the roof.

Carter went through security and walked past the elevator to the stairs. He climbed past the second floor housing the computers and backup generators and communications. He passed the third floor where the analysts lived. He exited the stairs on the fourth floor, the top floor, where Director Harker's office was. He placed his hand on the biometric scanner outside the door of her office and went in.

Elizabeth Harker looked up from behind her desk. She was small, with milk-white skin, small, pointed ears and raven black hair. Her eyes were like a cat's, wide and green. She looked like an elf dressed in black and white, but a kind of elf you wouldn't want to mess with.

On her desk was a file with his name on it, a silver pen that had belonged to FDR and a picture of the Twin Towers burning on 9/11. She kept the picture to remind herself of why she was there.

"Have a seat." Harker opened the file.

He sat and waited.

"The shrink says you're fit to go back in the field. Are you?"

"I'm fine."

"No more flashbacks?"

"No."

Not for three months. He'd thrown out the pills the doctor had given him. They'd flattened everything into a narrow monotone that made him feel like he was living in a fading black and white picture. He didn't think Harker needed to know about the dreams.

Harker nodded. She made a note in the file and placed it in a drawer.

A large, flat monitor was mounted on one wall of the office. Harker did something at her desk and the display came to life with a picture of an elderly man. His eyes were blue. He looked like the sort of man you'd like for a Grandfather.

She said, "This is William Connor. He was a very rich man. He was also a personal friend of the President."

"Was?"

"Someone tortured him until he died of a heart attack. They cut off one of his fingers with pruning shears. Then they transferred money from his accounts and tore his home apart."

An electric tension settled across his shoulders. Cutting off the finger of an old man made things personal, something he could grab on to. It was better when it was personal. He needed personal. It helped motivate him. Going forth for God and Country didn't work too well for him anymore, not since Afghanistan. Not since South America.

"That's cold. How much money?"

"Around four hundred million."

"Why are we getting involved with this? This looks like FBI or Treasury territory."

"We intercepted an encrypted satellite transmission last week from the Chinese consulate in San Francisco. There's a Colonel from Chinese Military Intelligence in the consulate named Wu. He pretends he's a trade official. He called his boss, General Yang. Yang is chief of their MI. Wu told him about an old book Connor found in Bhutan and Yang ordered him to get the book and Connor's money. The money went to accounts in Macau controlled by Yang."

"Chinese MI? Why would they do something as stupid as that? It doesn't make sense. What's in the book?"

"We don't know. Connor had a niece who might know. I want to ask her about it. Doctor Connor is coming here today."

"Doctor?"

"PhDs in oriental and ancient languages. She's one of the top experts in the country."

Carter pictured an expert PhD niece. Someone academic looking. Maybe in an earth tone baggy suit, with large glasses and gray hair, around fifty.

Harker said, "The FBI had Wu under routine surveillance. I requested a photo and they sent one over but my gut says they're holding something back."

Nick didn't respond.

"Zeke Jordan is the liaison. You know him. Talk with him and see what you can find out."

A voice came from the intercom on Harker's desk.

"Director, Doctor Connor is here."

"Escort her up."

While they waited, Carter thought about his car and decided to call Triple A and ride back with the tow.