The Lives of Tao

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

LIN



It was there that I met Chang San-Feng and created the Grand Supreme Fist. It was also there that I joined with a man with great potential, much like Temujin, but tempered with humility and wisdom. His name was Zhu Yuanzhang. Born in poverty, Zhu had lived as a monk, a beggar, a rebel – and later as a leader of the Red Turban sect during a tumultuous time. Zhu Yuanzhang was quick to accept me, believing that the Ho Lung had come to him in his people’s time of need.



I said, wake up, Roen!

“Whuu... What?” Roen woke with a start. “What’s going on? Why am I on the couch? Oh yeah.” He sat up and yawned. “What time is it?”

Get your workout in and then take the rest of the day off. We have much to do.

Roen blinked several times and buried his head in the pillow again. “Why am I so tired? I feel like I didn’t sleep a wink last night.”

Wake Sonya and start your morning jog.

“I feel exhausted. You know the body’s defense system is weak when it’s tired. I might catch a cold. Maybe I should take the day off.” Roen pulled his blanket over his head.

No excuses today.

“Why are you so crabby?”

Go. Now!

Roen knew better than to argue when Tao was in such a mood. Complaining every step of the way, he rolled off the couch and knocked on Sonya’s door. Coincidently, she was just as tired as he was. Their workout was very half-hearted as they both struggled to get through all the exercises. They cut the session short, and Sonya left to take care of her tan. Tao made Roen clear his schedule and had him drive away from the city to the suburb of Skokie to a plain unadorned building off the side of an alley.

“What is this? Another Prophus safe house?” Roen mused.

You will see.

“Not used very often, huh?” Roen kicked aside some garbage that littered the ground as he approached a rusty metal door. It squeaked as it opened as if it hadn’t been used in ages, revealing another vault-like door similar to the safe house that Sonya and he trained in. Roen punched in his code and watched a layer of dust fall from the ceiling as the vault door rumbled open.

Like the safe house at Lake Street, the interior looked nothing like it did on the outside. However, instead of training equipment, this building looked like someone’s home – with the exception of a large circular mat in the center of the room. Against one wall were dozens of assorted potted plants; on the opposite wall were a row of pinball machines and electronic equipment. An antique table, rocking chair, and couch were the only other furniture in sight. An old pudgy Chinese man with short black hair was sitting in the rocking chair reading a book. He did not seem to notice Roen walk in.

“This is something you don’t see every day. What is this place?”

Go greet Sifu Wei Cheng Lin. Sifu means master in Mandarin. With respect, mind you, and take your shoes off, for God’s sake.

“What’s he a master of? Is that an Atari next to the television?”

Pay attention. Bow when you first speak to him and tell him Ho Lung greets him.

“What? What’s a Ho Lung?”

Just say it.

Grumbling about bacteria and dirt, Roen took off his shoes and placed them next to the door. He strolled up to the man. “Um... Hi, Master Wei Cheng Lin. I was, uh... sent here by Ho Lung.”

That is not what I told you to say.

The wizened old man, eyes still fixed on the book, spoke in a soft voice. “You are trespassing. Leave now.” He pointed to the door, not bothering to even glance Roen’s way. Roen shrugged, turned, and began to walk away.

Stop.

“What? What do I do now? I don’t get it.”

You really should follow directions better.

“You didn’t say anything about verbatim.”

Roen turned around again. Lin leaped from the chair at a blinding speed. His hands flashed forward and struck the air where Roen’s head had been moments before. The punch was so fast Roen thought he heard the air pop. Stumbling backward, he covered up and retreated.

“What the hell? I don’t want to beat on an old guy.”

You have a bad track record with old men. You should worry more about your own safety right now.

Roen raised his guard just as Lin closed in waving his hands all crazy-like. Those strange gestures befuddled Roen. The old guy’s palms were open and his arms outstretched as if he was trying to slap Roen. Both arms were waving in small circular patterns, moving back and forth like pieces of string blowing in the wind. However, when Roen blocked the slaps, it sent a shock through his body, unlike anything he had ever felt before.

“Ow! That hurt. That really, really hurt.”

Punches are supposed to hurt.

“He hits like a Mack truck!”

Immediately, Lin moved to Roen’s side and struck again. Roen barely blocked the attack as it came dangerously close to his face. The force of the blow pushed him backward. Roen retreated, shaking his hands in pain – as Lin continued stalking him, and whose hands still waved in the air as if they were live snakes.

Roen knew he had to keep his guard up, but the nerves in his arms refused to comply, and he found himself suddenly defenseless. He looked at the supposedly old and wizened man – who no longer seemed that old or wizened. Roen tried to move to the side, but was cut off as Lin pressed the attack.

After another punch that nearly took his head off, Roen decided that he had had enough. If the old fogey felt he had the right to knock Roen silly, then well, Roen was going to hit him right back! Roen stepped in and threw a hard right cross at Lin’s chubby cheeks, just like during his fighting sessions with Sonya. The punch flew well short of its target.

Come on, that was embarrassing.

He followed through with a high kick. Lin stepped past his kick and karate-chopped his shins. Roen staggered and his knees buckled. Determined not to fall, he retreated again, trying to shake off the numbness in his legs. Lin pressed forward, darting in from side to side. Roen threw a few jabs, trying to keep him at bay, but his arms felt like lead weights. Lin smashed his defenses and, before Roen realized what had happened, flipped him onto his back.

The geezer who just beat the snot out of him stood over Roen and shook his head. Then he extended a hand, helping Roen stand up. “I hope you’re a new host in need of training and not a live operative. You move like a pregnant cow.”

“I’m a new host in need of training,” stammered Roen. His entire body hurt in so many places that his brain couldn’t process all of it.

“It’s good to know Command isn’t completely bottom feeding.” The old man nodded. “Who did you say sent you again?”

“Ho Lung greets you, Sifu Wei Cheng Lin,” Roen managed to say through gritted teeth.

Wei Cheng Lin brightened up. “Oh, Sifu Tao, yes, it is so good to see you again. I see you picked a fixer-upper as your next host. I grieve with you for Edward.”

“Tao, did you used to be a Ho Lung?”

Yes. I am quite a legend in Chinese mythology, you know.

“You’ll have to tell me about that sometime.”

Roen bowed. “Thank you, Sifu Lin. To be honest, I’m not sure why Tao sent me here.”

Lin chuckled. “Isn’t it obvious? You were sent here to be trained.”

“But I’m already being trained,” Roen protested.

Lin gave a snort.

Roen looked around the room. “This is what you do here? Train agents?”

Lin nodded. “I was once an agent, but one particular mission made me too visible in the world, so I went underground, and now I train.”

“What mission was that, Sifu Lin?” Roen asked.

Lin gave him a blank stare. Finally, he replied, “It is of little matter. I am content serving any way they require. I have seen your abilities. We have much work to do.”

“Is that why you attacked me?” Roen asked.

“How else could I gauge your real skill if you didn’t think you were fighting for your life?” Lin smiled. “Do not worry; you are in good hands. Sifu Tao would not do otherwise.”

“Sifu Tao?” Roen asked.

“Just as I train his students, he was once my master,” Lin said. “In fact, you can say he was a master to all of us in our art.”

“And what art would that be, Sifu Lin?”

Lin put his hands together and bowed. “Why, the Grand Supreme Fist of course, or what you might know as t’ai chi.”



Sonya adjusted her sunglasses before putting them on. She lay out on her beach towel and enjoyed the weather as she tanned in her two-piece swimming suit, soaking up as much rays as possible. She tapped a hidden button on the side of the sunglasses. Several small screens turned on in her lenses. Now she had a three-sixty view of the area.

She sighed in contentment and relaxed. “This is the life. It isn’t the Caymans, but it’ll do.” Oak Street Beach during the summer was packed with beachgoers. After the harsh Chicago winters, the people congregated on the beach with enthusiasm like a colony of ants. The crowd was loud as the hordes of humanity crowded the small beach as if it was the last strip of sand in the Midwest. Actually, that might not be that far off, Sonya thought.

Just remember you are still working.

“I’m never not working. The camera facing east is a little fuzzy.”

It will have to do. I doubt our contact is coming in from the lake anyway.

“Well, Gaston better get here soon. I have plans with Roen today.”

You are spending far too much time training him.

“He needs the work. Besides, he’s like the puppy I always wanted.”

Do not get too attached. Command is putting him in the field soon.

Sonya sat up. “What? It’s too soon. He’s not ready.”

He will have to be. This is a bad time for Tao to take the year off. You need to get back to Europe.

Sonya shook her head and laid back down, pretending to doze off, while keeping an eye out for the signal. “I’ll talk to the Keeper. It’s only been a few months. He’ll just get killed.”

Nonsense. Soldiers in the United States go to war after basic and advanced training after five months; other countries, far less. Roen’s had much more intense training from you.

“He wouldn’t have even gotten into the army the state he was in when Tao found him.”

Sonya’s thoughts stayed on Roen. If that was the case, his training would have to be stepped up. She’d have to cut short the hand-to-hand combat and move to firearms and squad tactics. She was concerned he might be getting overwhelmed. She waited for another thirty minutes before turning over onto her stomach. As soon as she flipped over, the south camera picked up a flash, and then two more quick flashes. “We’re a go,” Sonya murmured. It was too bad. Now she’d have an uneven tan.

I was beginning to wonder. After the past two months, I was afraid something might have happened to Gaston.

Sonya packed her bag and headed south, making her way through the mass of humanity to the even more crowded beach bar. She ordered a cocktail and made eye contact with an older white-haired German man who looked out of place with the current crowd. They made eye contact and then he looked to his left. Sonya looked back and studied her drink. “Necklace, earrings in both ears, ring on right forefinger, book in his left hand.”

Six-minute wait. Head west.

“The underground tunnel then.”

When she looked back at where Gaston was standing before, he was gone. Sonya stayed at the bar for five minutes, before making her way from the bar toward the tunnel under Lakeshore Drive. The dark tunnel that connected the uptown neighborhood to the beach was a dark, dank contrast to the sunny beach seconds earlier. Sonya slowed her pace as she entered. She could feel the vibration of the cars passing overhead.

Gaston was a very high maintenance mole. Recently, he had gotten increasingly paranoid about these meetings and demanded more intricate methods of establishing contact. As of right now, Sonya was one of four agents rotating as handlers in order to throw off any possible surveillance. Still, it had taken six years for him to infiltrate the Genjix research division – and the Prophus were happy to oblige him as much as possible.

A figure hidden in a side crevice spoke. “A monkey, after getting drunk on brandy, would never touch it again.”

“And thus, is much wiser than most men,” Sonya answered.

Gaston grabbed her wrist and pulled her close. His face had already turned red from the few minutes he spent at the beach. Sonya wondered how much sun the man actually got. He seemed more nervous than usual. Sonya began to worry. “Is everything all right?” she asked. “You’ve missed the rendezvous three straight times now.”

He began to whisper in quick bursts. “I cracked the security of the P1 logistics last night. The Genjix are building a scanner that can detect Quasing in hosts.”

Those idiots!

Sonya was shocked. If this was true, it not only was a powerful weapon for the Genjix, it could change the entire dynamic of the Quasings on Earth if humanity ever got a hold of it. “Are you sure?” she asked. “Our own scientists think it’s some sort of short-range sensor.”

Gaston shook his head. “The blueprints Edward obtained from the archives were dead-end designs.”

Damn. We have a small army of scientists trying to make heads or tails of those blueprints.

“Can you steal the real ones?” Sonya looked over her shoulder. “Do you know what the later phases are?”

Gaston shook his head. “They have me studying Quasing physiology relative to earth compounds. Penetra is only the tip of the iceberg. P1 is only the beginning that will lead to something even bigger. P3 is supposed to have planet-level ramifications. I’m not sure how everything is related. Here.” He handed her a piece of paper. “This is the best I can do. The Genjix are at the prototyping stage of P1 development. Here’s the material manifest for the next few months. The two critical ones are coming from Canada via Wisconsin by freight and Utah by air.”

Sonya took the paper and put it away. It was something at least. “We’ll have teams ready for intercept.”

He grabbed her by the arm. “Look, when I broke into their system last night, I tripped several security protocols trying to access the later phases. I covered my tracks the best I could, but they’re going to figure out there’s a mole in their midst soon. I need to get out.”

Sonya nodded. “I’ll talk to Command and see what we can do.”

Gaston kept his grip on her arm and pressed his face close to hers. “You don’t understand. Sean’s moving the entire research division to the underwater facility as we speak. It’ll be impossible to leave. They have a team going over the security breach right now. When they add all the bits and pieces left from my countermeasures, they’ll realize it’s me. And by that time, I’ll be trapped down there.”

Sonya’s hair rose on the back of her neck. Was Gaston asking to be pulled out right now? He couldn’t be serious! “I can’t authorize this,” she hissed. “We need to talk to Command. Can you wait until tonight? I can have a team ready by then.”

Gaston squeezed her arm harder. “I’m saying it needs to be authorized right now! By you. I need to disappear. If not, I’m a dead man.”

Sonya, you are not equipped to extract him. If what he is saying is true, you can be sure the tracers are on. If you pull him out now, you are endangering both of you. You have to get confirmation and back up from Command.

“But what if he’s right, Baji? If I don’t bring him back, he might not survive long enough for us to ever extract him.”

Gaston has been with the Genjix for six years. He should be able to survive three hours. We do not have an extraction team ready, nor do we have the procedures in place to smuggle him out of the country. When the Genjix realize he is gone, you will not be ready to protect or hide him. The odds of the two of you reaching a safe house right now are small; it would be extremely difficult.

Sonya’s mind raced as she tried to consider her options. Her instincts told her Gaston should leave with her now, but her experience told her it was a suicidal move. Even if they got to a safe house, the Genjix could just descend on it before they got a jammer. If they could assemble a team in place, there might be a chance.

“Baji, can we get a team to meet us at a safe house?”

Rapid response at best will be ninety minutes.

“Ninety minutes! How can it be this slow?”

We do not have a large presence in the Midwest. The budget does not allow for it. It is not like Western Europe where we can drop an army at a minute’s notice.

“That’s a long time to hold down the fort on my own.”

It is suicide.

“Gaston,” Sonya tried to keep her voice level. “It’s not a good idea. I don’t have the tracer jammer with me. They’ll know immediately if we go on the move. I’m unarmed, and frankly, I’m wearing sandals. We’re not going to get very far. At the very least, give me three hours. I promise you, I will be back with a team. We can jam the tracer and you can disappear.”

Gaston was squeezing her arm so hard it began to hurt. She could see the tightness around his eyes as he weighed his options. “Three hours, no more,” he said. “Theater on the Lake.” He slowly released his grip.

Sonya gave him a reassuring look and nodded. “Stay low, use protocol three contact handshake.” She turned around and walked as fast as she dared out of the tunnel toward the nearest safe house. She was on the phone with the Keeper within seconds of her arrival there. Within an hour, she was armed and ready to go. Within another hour, a squad of four other agents was assembled.

By two and half hours, they were heading to the rendezvous point. The sun was starting to set by the time they reached Theater on the Lake. It was an old building in a forested area just north of the beach. The area was quiet, with only the sound of cars from the highway behind her.

Sonya’s squad fanned out to establish a perimeter. She knelt down and made a fist with her hand. The squad settled in and waited. At the three-hour mark, all was still quiet. Sonya motioned for cover and moved up to the front door. It wasn’t locked.

She pointed at two of the agents to follow her in and they searched the small theater. Most of the interior was caked with dust, except for a portion near the entranceway; that area was spotless. She motioned to the other agents to search the area. Sonya bent down and sniffed the floor. There was a faint aroma of bleach.

A few minutes later, one of the agents called her into the restroom. He pointed at a soft portion of the concrete wall that was still damp. Sonya drew her knife and cut into the wall. It was patched recently. Embedded into the concrete, she found a bullet.

“Definitely a .45 ACP by the looks of it,” Sonya said. “There’s been cleaners here.” She dug out the bullet and rolled it between her thumb and index finger. Sonya shook her head and buried her face in her hands. If she had only listened to him. At least Gaston might have had a chance then.

You cannot blame yourself for this.

“Of course I can, Baji. I followed orders and protocol when I should have followed my gut. Damn it!”

She checked her watch and looked at the rest of her team. “Wrap it up.” There was nothing else they could do here tonight. Hopefully, she was wrong and Gaston could somehow get in touch with them soon, but she feared the Prophus would never hear from him again.