Covert One 4 - The Altman Code Read Free Page A

experience.

Assigned to the U.S. Army Medical Research Institute for Infectious

Diseases–USAMRIID–he was a medical doctor and biomolecular scientist

as well as an army lieutenant colonel. He had left his work on defenses

against anthrax to attend this one–the Pacific Rim International

Assembly on Developments in Molecular and Cell Biology. But scientific

conferences, like fish and guests, got stale after three or four days.

Hatless, in civilian clothes, he strode along the waterfront, marveling

at the magnificent harbor, the third-largest container port in the

world, after Hong Kong and Singapore. He had visited here years ago,

before a tunnel was built to the mainland and the paradisaical island

became just another congested part of the container port. The day was

postcard clear, so he was able to easily spot Hsiao Liuchiu Island, low

on the southern horizon. He walked another fifteen minutes through the

sun-hazed day as seagulls circled overhead and the clatter of a harbor

at work filled his ears. There was no sign here of the strife over

Taiwan’s future, whether it would remain independent or be conquered or

somehow traded off to mainland China, which still claimed it as its own.

At last, he hailed a cab to take him back to the hotel. He had hardly

settled into the backseat when his cell phone vibrated inside his sport

jacket. It was not his regular phone, but the special one in the hidden

pocket. The phone that was scrambled. He answered quietly, “Smith.” Fred

Klein asked, “How’s the conference, Colonel?” “Getting dull,” he

admitted.
    “Then a small diversion won’t be too amiss.” Smith smiled inwardly. He

was not only a scientist, but an undercover agent. Balancing the two

parts of his life was seldom easy. He was ready for a “small diversion,”

but nothing too big or too engrossing. He really did want to get back to

the conference. “What do we have this time, Fred?” From his distant

office on the bank of the Anacostia River, Klein described the

situation. Smith felt a chill that was both apprehension and

anticipation. “What do I do?”
    “Go to Liuchiu Island tonight. You should have plenty of time. Rent or

bribe a boat out of Linyuan, and be on the island by nine. At precisely

ten, you’ll be at a small cove on the western shore. The exact location,

landmarks, and local designation have been faxed to a Covert-One asset

at the American Institute in Taiwan. They’ll be hand-delivered to you.”
    “What happens at the cove?”
    “You meet another Covert-One, Avery Mondragon. The recognition word is

‘orchid.’ He’ll deliver an envelope with The Dowager Empress’s actual

manifest, the one that’s the basis for the bill to Iraq. After that, go

directly to the airport in Kaohsiung. You’ll meet a chopper there from

one of our cruisers lying offshore. Give the pilot the invoice manifest.
    Its final destination is the Oval Office. Understood?”
    “Same recognition word?”
    “Right.”
    “Then what?” Smith could hear the chief of Covert-One puffing on his

pipe. “Then you can go back to your conference.” The phone went dead.

Smith grinned to himself. A straightforward, uncomplicated assignment.

Moments later, the taxi pulled up in front of the Hi-Lai Hotel. He paid

the driver and walked into the lobby, heading for the car rental desk.

Once the courier had arrived from Taipei, he would drive down the coast

to Lin-yuan and find a fishing boat to take him quietly to Liuchiu. If

he could not find one, he would rent one and pilot it himself. As he

crossed the lobby, a short, brisk Chinese man jumped up from an armchair

to block his way. “Ah, Dr. Smith, I have been waiting for you. I am

honored to meet you personally. Your paper on the late Dr. Chambord’s

theoretical work with the molecular computer was excellent. Much food

for thought.” Smith smiled in acknowledgment of both greeting and

compliment. “You flatter me, Dr.