Francis was about to answer, but Erik beat him to it. “From up here. We’d only need to cover one side. It’s a little trickier, but it can be done.”
Heinz looked at him with surprise. “So now you’re an optimist?”
“I didn’t say that,” Erik said. “I’m just saying that if the terrain is suitable it’s the only real option.”
“Whereas—” Heinz began.
“Alright,” Richelle said. “That’s enough. Like it or not, we’re going to have to work together on this. If this is our best option I suggest we go back so Erik can get what he needs to go down there and have a look around.”
“I’ll come back with him,” Francis said.
“Great,” Richelle sighed. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to sit this one out. I’ve seen enough of the great outdoors to last me a while.”
Zurich, Switzerland
Tuesday 19 June 2007
1200 CEST
Rex and Magda were already in the conference room when Caroline arrived. On the table in front of him Rex had assembled three small stacks of paper, each filled with account numbers, names and transactions. Caroline took one look at them and said, “I’m hoping you don’t expect me to read any of that.”
“It’s actually quite fascinating stuff,” Rex told her.
“I’m sure it is,” Caroline said. “Why don’t you just give me the general idea for now.”
Rex plucked one of the sheets from the pile on his left and held it up. “I’ve broken the transactions up into three parts to reflect the three stages being used to move the money from the Chinese central bank to the individual suppliers. The key to the whole thing is the International Bank of Settlements just down the road in Basel.”
“The what?” Caroline said.
“The B.I.S isn’t a bank in the strictest sense of the word,” Rex said, “but it plays a major role in international finance. It’s basically a bank for central banks, if you like. It’s really more of an elaborate bookkeeping exercise that allows central banks to move money between each other without having to physically make any transactions. The system was originally set up under the gold standard, but the basic idea is still the same. In the case of Panjin Partners, the money being used to finance the purchases isn’t coming out of the company’s own accounts, or even the defense budget, but straight from the Chinese central bank’s account at the B.I.S. to the Bank of England. From there it’s being moved to a commercial bank in London called TriStar Capital, which is actually part of a larger consortium based in Hong Kong and owned by the Chinese state.”
“I don’t get it.” Caroline looked at them both. “Why not move the money directly if they own the bank?”
“Secrecy,” Rex replied. “Transactions through the B.I.S are not subject to any form of public scrutiny. In fact the bank is a legal black hole. Not even the Swiss government has any jurisdiction over it.”
“Alright. So TriStar is paying the bills.”
“No.” Rex shook his head. “It’s a little more complicated. TriStar has been breaking the transactions down into individual payments, but then passing them on to a British bank called Pegasus Holdings. Pegasus is paying the bills and selling the goods on to a company in Dubai called United Shipping, who then transfer ownership to Panjin Partners.”
“You’ve lost me,” Caroline said.
“The simple fact is,” Magda cut in, “that the Chinese are going out of their way to hide these purchases from anyone who might be interested. As for why, or where this stuff is going, we don’t have a clue. The shipping manifests are all directed to the port of Huludao on the Chinese mainland. The real mystery, if you ask me, is why the Chinese are buying things in secret that wouldn’t raise an eyebrow if they bought them openly.”
Rex handed one of the sheets to Caroline and said, “It’s all just everyday industrial goods. Engines, wheels, wire, instruments, tools, mining equipment. There are no hazardous chemicals or materials, no medical drugs, and no weapons of any kind. Almost all of it is coming from the United States and Germany, countries the Chinese do business with every day. And it’s been going on for a while. Some of these transactions are over three years old.”
“That’s it?” Caroline said.
“Almost,” Magda said. “Show her the others.”
Rex handed Caroline several sheets containing two or three highlighted entries per page. “Aside from these twelve transactions everything else is with large corporations. Six of the payments are to other banks, while the other six are to individual numbered accounts offshore. One of those is for a million and a half dollars. The rest are all in the low hundreds of thousands.”
Caroline studied the list for a moment and said, “And do we know who owns these private accounts?”
Rex shook his head. “There’s no way to find out, either. At least none that I know of. If anyone—and that includes government agencies—presented one of those account numbers to the holding bank, the money would be gone in minutes, probably even sooner. It’s one of the reasons the offshore banking system exists.”
“Alright,” Caroline told them. “I appreciate the work, guys.”
“What should we do with this?” Rex pointed at the papers.
“I’ll take them,” Caroline said. “I’m guessing we’d all be in a lot of trouble if anyone found them here.”
“That’s an understatement,” Magda said. “We’d all be in jail.”
“Or dead,” Rex chuckled.
No one else laughed.
“I’ll tell you what,” Caroline said, “Put all this stuff on a memory stick, then shred the papers and delete the files.”
Aurora
Tuesday 19 June 2007
1930 EEST
Richelle was waiting for them at the research station when Francis and Erik returned over an hour after sundown. If she hadn’t known the island was barren of wildlife she might have guessed the two of them had run into an angry bear and paid dearly for the privilege. Francis, clearly in a great deal of pain, was limping, one hand on Erik’s shoulder.
“What the hell happened to you two?” Richelle said.
“Don’t ask.” Erik cast the coil of rope to one side and helped Francis to the nearest chair.
“I should have known better,” Francis said.
“I tried to talk him out of going down with me,” Erik said.
Richelle felt an almost unstoppable urge to go to Francis and run a reassuring hand through his disheveled hair. The power and impossibility of the impulse felt as if it might drive her mad. Instead she nodded matter-of-factly and said, “And the site?”
“It’ll have to do,” Erik said.
“It better,” Francis said.
“I’ll have to go back and get rid of the trees,” Erik said, “but it’s big enough. And it looks stable. I’ll take the launch out there tomorrow.”
Richelle was about to insist that Francis get himself down to the medical center immediately when the doors of the access elevator opened behind them and Heinz stepped out. Richelle braced herself for a renewal of hostilities, but Heinz apparently had other things on his mind.
“Caroline called,” Heinz said. “Apparently she’s discovered some interesting things about our friends in Beijing. She’s sending the file now.”
“Interesting or useful?” Richelle mused.
“I don’t know,” Heinz said. “I don’t think she knew quite what to make of it herself.”
Fifteen minutes later Richelle, Heinz and a very weary looking Francis were gathered around the printer in her office, watching as it spat out one page after another. The first two contained a hastily written summary from Rex in which he did his best to sum up the complex financial arrangements detailed in the long list of transactions that followed. When Richelle had finished, she handed it to Francis and turned to the rest of the pile. By the time all three of them had read the summary and spent a few minutes looking over the rest of the pages the mood had turned sour.
“This is all very fascinating,” Richelle said, “but it doesn’t help, does it?”
“Not really,” Francis agreed. “Although you
do
still have to wonder what all the cloak and dagger is about.”
“Has it occurred to anyone that maybe the Chinese are setting them up?” Richelle asked. “Giving themselves an excuse to do something about their unruly neighbors before they blow up the world?”
Francis regarded her with an expression that was neither committal nor dismissive. “Go on.”
“I’m just saying, if Rex is right about the fact that the money could never be properly traced, all they would need to do is point to whatever the hell they’re doing and claim the North Koreans were acting alone. I admit, I have no idea what that something might be, but it makes sense. I can’t exactly see anyone going out of their way to prove them wrong either. Especially if it involved an end, or at least a de-escalation, of the North Korean problem. Hell, the United States would probably be right behind them.”
“I’ve got to give it to you,” Francis said, “that’s the best answer I’ve heard so far. It’s not foolproof, but like you said, it probably wouldn’t need to be.”
“Thanks,” Richelle said. “I’m guessing that was a compliment.”
“Think of it more as a tentative endorsement,” Francis said, smiling. “I’d like it to be the truth, which is why I think we need to keep our ears to the ground and see what else we can find out. And if you turn out to be right, I’d even recommend that we consider letting such an event take its course.”
“You would?” Heinz said, startled.
“Why not?” Francis said. “Someone is going to have to deal with North Korea sooner or later. Why not the Chinese, even if it
is
on trumped-up charges? They have the manpower and the resources to do it, and even to stave off a full-scale collapse after the fact. Ideologically they’re a hell of a lot more suited to deal with a population already living under authoritarian rule. Think of it as a difficult adoption rather than a brutal kidnapping. The South, on the other hand, would find the experience of integration with their lost brothers to the north extremely problematic, maybe even violent.”
Richelle found herself smiling. “Good God, he’s a philosopher too.”
Francis held up his hands, “Actually, I can’t take the credit. You’ll have to thank Reginald. He was always the deep thinker. He once told the Joint Chiefs of Staff the United States should pay the Chinese to invade the North before it was too late. I guess they never took him up on it. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t a good idea.”
“You’re actually serious,” Richelle said.
“Completely,” Francis said. “You want a world you can do something about? Getting rid of North Korea would go a long way towards achieving that. It’s one of those brutal truths you can only accept when you understand that once things have moved too far in one direction, there is no easy way back. Nine-eleven didn’t happen because Reagan began killing Russians by proxy in Afghanistan; it was more or less a foregone conclusion when John Foster Dulles decided the best way to get the Middle East on our side in the Cold War was to arm it to the teeth and turn the region into a powder keg of popular resentment under dictatorships he could do business with, or when Eisenhower let the CIA get rid of Mosaddegh in Iran on behalf of the international oil cartel. Don’t forget, it was the Chinese who made sure the Korean War ended in stalemate. If anyone should clean up the mess, it should probably be them.”
“And if I’m wrong?” Richelle said.
“Then I guess we’re shit out of luck,” Francis said. “Either way, I have a feeling Mitch and his—whatever the hell you call it—”
“Gandalf?” Heinz suggested.
“Really?” Francis said, “You’re saying it now too? Anyway, I think what we have out there is going to be the key to figuring this out. In fact, I think it’s going to be the key to figuring just about
everything
out from now on. I just wish we didn’t have to put our lives in the hands of the Japanese Evel Knievel every time we need access to it.”
Richelle laughed. “If you don’t like Yoshi’s flying, maybe you should take it up yourself. I’m sure he’d be happy to teach you.”
Francis only rolled his eyes at this.
“I suggest we fly over first thing in the morning,” Richelle said. “And
you
need to report to the medical section before you go anywhere.”
“I’m fine,” Francis said. “Really.”
“I’m going to call Doctor Best in fifteen minutes,” Richelle said. “If you’re not in her office when I do I’ll have Erik find you and drag you down there himself.”
Francis, seeing not a hint of jest in her eyes, sighed and turned toward the door.
“Come on,” Erik said. “I’ll walk you over.”
Phoenix, Arizona
Tuesday 19 June 2007
1200 MST
Mike was sitting in the guest room of the KBRC 6 news channel trying to read one of his office manager’s ridiculously long memos when someone knocked on the door.
“Come in,” Mike said.
Javier Ortega was half an inch shy of six feet and a little bigger than this strictly warranted, but far from overweight. He was dressed casually in tan slacks, loafers and a salmon polo shirt. When he smiled, Mike couldn’t help thinking of one of those ads on TV for toothpaste that promised to make your teeth white, although he highly doubted that whatever was responsible for Ortega’s blinding smile came in a tube.
“Mike, it’s good to finally meet you,” Ortega said. “I see you managed to get Geraldine Connor on your team. You must have friends in high places.”
Not as many as you, asshole
, Mike felt like saying. What he actually said was, “She turn you down, did she?”
Ortega only smiled and said, “I’ve got to give it to you, you’re a brave man, Mike. I’d go easy on you, but then I’d have to do the same for Redman, and that’s not going to happen. I just wanted to stop by and let you know that whatever happens out there, we’re all on the same team at the end of the day.”
“That’s very kind of you,” Mike said.
“Well, I’d better get ready,” Ortega said. “To the victor the spoils, as they say.”
Ortega left the door open, no doubt a subtle taunt. Before Mike could close it a young woman arrived to let him know he was needed in makeup.