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“This is Gavin Hudson,” Hua revealed. “He’s a junior staffer at the US Embassy.”
Hua opened another file and scrolled through Gavin’s personnel records and official photographs.
“How did you access his State Department records?” I asked.
Hua made a face that reminded me of Mo-bot’s expression when I doubted her abilities to fix a problem. It was as though I was suggesting his skills weren’t up to the simple challenge of circumventing US Government security.
“The American State Department has rules and guidelines about in-country relationships,” Hua went on. “Thankfully, Gavin met his sweetheart during his last rotation in Washington.”
He showed us another photo, this one of an athletic brunette in a dark pant suit, posing for an official photo.
“This is Daisy Wells, a freelance technology reporter with by-lines inWired, theAtlantic,and other well-established publications. She passed State Department vetting without any problems.” Hua paused. “But thereisa problem.”
He brought up a photo taken from one of the surveillance cameras planted in Liu Bao’s penthouse. It showed three women, and I recognized one of them as Wells.
“We thought she was a call girl. It is the perfect cover, with the number of women Liu has coming and going from his apartment. I think she’s feeding him information on Hudson, or else taking instructions on how to manipulate him. Whatever she’s doing, I’ll bet Gavin Hudson has no idea she knows Liu Bao.”
“Then I think we should tell him,” I said, and Hua smiled and nodded his agreement.
CHAPTER 60
GAVIN HUDSON LIVED in Beijing’s diplomatic quarter, not far from Liu Bao’s penthouse apartment. It was one of the most heavily monitored places on the planet. The Chinese authorities wanted to know what the rest of the world was doing, and the various diplomatic missions kept tabs on each other, keen to understand which countries were trying to gain an advantage with Asia’s superpower.
Hua drove Zhang Daiyu and me in the LDV surveillance van. It was early, but life in this part of the city was already in full swing. Embassy staffers were out jogging, hawkers were setting up their food stalls, and noisy trucks were making deliveries to local shops and restaurants. We arrived in Xiayuan Park, the complex where Hudson lived, and Hua found a space in the parking lot opposite the apartment building.
We left the vehicle and headed across the street toward theblock. There was an American guard on the gate. Civilian dress of dark trousers and a short-sleeve white shirt, but his ramrod posture, crewcut, and piercing stare screamed Marine Corps to me.
“Can I help you, sirs? Ma’am?” he asked, as we approached the open gate set in a green mesh fence. Behind it lay manicured gardens and a modern apartment block twenty floors high.
“We’re here to see Gavin Hudson,” I replied.
“Is he expecting you?” the guard asked.
“You with the Corps?” I gambled. “I was a pilot. Flew Sea Knights in Afghanistan.”
“Good for you, but that don’t make us brothers.”
He obviously took his job very seriously, so I tried another tack.
“Mr. Hudson has got himself into some trouble with a local gang boss. It’s compromised him and he’s going to want to know about it.”
“That’s an embassy security issue, sir.”
I began to wonder if the guy was a former Marine or a failed one. He lacked the imagination and initiative typically found in the Corps.
“We’ll inform the embassy once we’ve spoken to Mr. Hudson,” I replied. “Just call up and ask if he’ll see us. Tell him it’s about his finance friend.”
The guard studied me for a moment and then nodded. He pulled a wireless intercom from his pocket and dialed a number. He stepped away to talk and returned a few moments later.
“You can go up. Fifteenth floor. Apartment fifteen-zero-eight.”
“Thanks,” I replied.
Zhang Daiyu, Hua, and I walked up the short path leading to the main entrance. The building was painted dark gray with wooden trim on the balconies and windows and there were matching panels artfully positioned on its fascia.
We went inside the air-conditioned lobby and saw another guy in dark trousers and short-sleeve white shirt standing beside a desk. He eyed us as we walked toward the elevator but said nothing.
“Friendly,” Hua remarked.
