The China Dogs by Sam Masters

Author:Sam Masters
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2014-07-31T16:00:00+00:00

PART FIVE

“If you win, you need not have to explain . . .

If you lose, you should not be there to explain!”

ADOLF HITLER

156

The White House, Washington DC

The flight from Miami to the capital gives Ghost an opportunity to think. To live with the notion that the dog attacks were orchestrated by some militant, maverick Chinese terrorists. Maybe it went back to the Syrian crisis and the stand both China and Russia had taken against U.S. intervention to stop Assad. Perhaps it was more obscure than that. One thing he knew for certain, spying incidents happened every day and got covered up. It was more than possible that this one escalated until it was just too big and dirty to sweep under a diplomatic carpet.

By the time Ghost and Sandra Teale are shown through to a meeting room, the dog attacks in New York, Chicago, and Los Angeles have escalated.

The TV news is playing on a screen and they can see that four more New Yorkers have been killed and nine injured in Wall Street. Five have been killed and seven injured at Universal Studios in L.A., and in Chicago six people have been killed and eleven injured at Union Station.

The total across the three cities is now sixty-five dead and eighty more being treated for wounds and shock.

Their viewing is interrupted when a tall black man and two white men, walk in. A pace or two behind them is a pencil-thin woman Ghost recognizes. Gwen Harries. “Brandon Jackson, NIA director.” He sticks out his hand. “And this is Chris Parry, from Langley, and Marlon Gonzalez, director of the White House’s Office of Science.”

“I’m Lieutenant Walton, and this is veterinary pathologist Sandra Teale.”

There’s a merry-go-round of handshakes until Jackson says, “And I understand you and Agent Harries know each other.”

“We do.” To her great surprise, Ghost makes a point of warmly embracing her. “Good to see you again Gwen. Though I do have a feeling that you’ve been holding back vital information that might have helped the Miami police.”

“Only under my instructions,” says Jackson, noting the sarcasm. “Please sit down.” He ushers them to a table behind the soft sofa area where they’d been watching the TV. “The President told me your story about the shelter, the microchips, and the Chinese couple, but I’d like us all to hear it from the two of you.”

Sandra Teale slips over a file containing copies of her research. “I only did one set of copies. I’m sorry.”

“No problem.” Jackson reroutes the technical data to Gon­zalez.

“Basically,” the vet continues, “the dogs were fitted with microchips. They look like the standard kind that can act as a tracer and when scanned will reveal owner and dog details. But these were more advanced.” She produces a packet of unused chips from the folder in front of her and passes them over. “They have drug reservoirs that release chemicals to make the dogs aggressive and anxious.” She looks toward Gonzalez. “I can be more technical if you wish?”

“Later,” says the white-haired advisor with a smile.

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