—Why are you trying to contact me outside of official channels? What is the urgent issue?
He waited, then saw:
—Do you have anything to do with the videos coming out of Taiwan?
And he felt the sweat build on his neck. He typed:
—Why would you ask that?
—Because the US government is asking us to help determine if the videos are fake, and we looked at them. They have your fingerprints on them. The same thing you did with the celebrity stuff. Same code. Is it you?
He leaned back in his chair. The only people who could make a match of the video code were in his own company, and because he was the best at video manipulation, the company had been asked to help determine if the video in question was manipulated. The irony was debilitating to him. He’d made the code, and now his own company was going to implicate him.
He tapped his fingers on the table, thinking. He couldn’t tell them to ignore the request—not from the United States government. It would make him look guilty as hell. But he most certainly couldn’t tell them to prove the video was fake. Not with his fingerprints on it. It would destroy his company.
He typed:
—What did you tell them?
He waited for the response, and then saw:
—We told them to pack sand. We no longer work for the US Government.
He sent back:
—Perfect. Let them figure it out on their own. Not our problem.
The avatar woman danced on the screen, then he saw:
—Is it not our problem? Did you do the video?
For the first time, he realized that his job as CEO held more implications than just his own paycheck. He typed:
—No, I did not. Just tell them we aren’t helping.
He got back:
—Okay. Just checking in. There is significant pressure on this.
He sent:
—Fine. Screw the pressure. I think I have the contract in place for China. We’re about to be bathing in gold. Ignore them. They should have thought about our help before they fired us.
A thumbs-up emoji appeared, and he closed out the VPN. He glanced behind his chair again, seeing the lone man still working on his computer.
Chapter 71
Inside the White House Situation Room, President Hannister said, “What else can we do? How do we signal support for Taiwan without getting into a war with China?”
The secretary of defense said, “Well, we approved the sale of F-35s to Taiwan, but it’s been held up by interagency deliberation on various logistics. We could expedite that as a show of support. It’ll piss off China to no end, but it would certainly send a signal.”
Hannister said, “Do it. What else?”
Amanda Croft said, “I’ll harden the edge of our releases and answers, but we’re really hamstrung by not having an embassy on the island. We have no way to directly impact anything there. We can talk from Beijing, but I would recommend against that, as it will only cause us problems.”
“Problems how?”
“We can’t outright say from inside China that we think the PRC is involved in manipulating the Taiwan election. I can do that from here, in a subtle manner, or from releases inside Taiwan from the American Institute in Taiwan—our de facto consulate in the country—but doing it from our post in China will upend a lot of diplomatic initiatives, to include the ongoing trade disputes.”
Hannister nodded, thinking. He said, “Maybe that’s the route we take. Economic pressure.”
Amanda said, “We can’t do that without proof of wrongdoing. Right now, it’s just a whiff of smoke from the DNI. The crowds in Taiwan are protesting their own government against China appeasement. Blaming China at this point will make us look weak, like we’re looking for a scapegoat. How will we sell that? Telling the world that China is fomenting protests attacking them? China will eat that up. They have the upper hand here, just like they do in Hong Kong.”
Hannister took that in, then said, “Okay, okay. I hear you. Do what you said, but not from our embassy in China. It’s looking like the video is the smoking gun here. Get me proof the video is fake, and who made it. If it’s not China, then find out who it is.”
The DNI nodded. “I can do that, but maybe not in the time we need. This thing is getting out of control, and it might be too little, too late proving the videos are fake.”
Hannister rubbed his forehead, looked at the ceiling, then said, “What is the worst case here? If we do nothing?”
McKellar said, “The KMT guy wins the election and we lose influence. Our initiatives to expand consulate services through the AIT are gone, and China gets a leg up in the country. Worst, worst case is that they start enforcing the Nine-Dash Line with Taiwan acquiescence. Leaving us to concede the entire South China Sea to China.”
The room grew quiet, and Hannister said, “That’s not going to happen. Give me something to fight this. Jesus, people, give me something.”
The men and women around the table simply looked at him, wanting to give an answer that they didn’t have. He waited a beat, heard nothing, then stood, saying, “This meeting is over. Go to work.”
The room started to break up, with people coalescing into groups and talking as they exited. Wolffe waited until he saw the president free from others. He went forward, breaking through the scrum. He came close enough for Alexander Palmer to stop his advance.
Palmer put a hand on his chest and said, “You have something to add?”
“Yeah. That worst case wasn’t the worst case.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you need to tell the principals to stay behind, because I think this isn’t about an election. I think it’s about taking over Taiwan.”
Palmer stared into Wolffe’s eyes, trying to find the political play, something Wolffe expected from him. Palmer’s entire life was built on politics. He simply couldn’t comprehend that someone would bring a problem that wasn’t a political wedge to be used.
Wolffe said, “I need the Council, right now.”
Palmer withdrew his hand and took a breath. “It’s not going to happen tonight. Too much on our plate.”
Wolffe leaned in and said, “Then tell the president that you had the keys to a war with China and decided your petty political bullshit was too important.”
Palmer narrowed his eyes and Wolffe said, “Look, I’m talking to the president with or without the Council. You can act like you’re in charge, or you can look like an asshole watching the bus drive by full of the people that are in charge. Your choice.”
Palmer nodded slowly, the words sinking in. He finally said, “This had better be good.”
Wolffe saw the tumbling behind the eyes and knew Palmer had made the political cost/benefit analysis, like every other puke who worked in the building. Wolffe understood that at the end of the day, no matter the political stripe, nobody wanted to be on the wrong side of national security. They all wanted the success, but not the pain of being responsible for the decision that enabled it.