asked to be seated at it.
“Go right ahead,” the woman who stood by the cash replied. “Theresa’s your server. She’ll be right with you.”
He thanked her and placed his backpack under the table before sitting with his back to the wall. If he leaned all the way to the right, he had a clear view down the street to the house the Professor had entered.
Atelevision, its volume turned off, was perched high in the corner of two walls. He stole a quick glance at it. He could tell from the text that scrolled across the bottom of the screen the news anchor was talking about the infections in the United Kingdom.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. No one, except for Beijing, had his number or contacts details. The message was short.
“Friends are delayed.”
“Proceed to destination.”
“Confirm.”
It was an untimely complication. He frowned, unsure what it meant. The original plan was for the extraction team to meet up with him once Simmons was secured. He had no idea if the team was already in-country or how they would get Simmons out. Regardless, the instructions were clear. He was on his own for now. He typed ‘Confirmed’ and deleted the messages.
As he slid the phone back into his pocket, three forest-green colored US Army Humvees appeared from nowhere. They stopped a few dozen feet down the street from the restaurant, their wheels half on the sidewalk. His pulse raced as a group of soldiers disembarked from the second and third vehicles.
He used his foot to slide the backpack he had placed under the table towards him. He lifted it up and reached inside to rest his hand on the Glock. If they had come for him, he would fight. The mission was too important and he was of no use to China in prison.
The soldiers huddled behind the third Humvee. A solitary figure disembarked from the first vehicle and strode towards them in a manner that suggested authority. His legs covered the short distance in a handful of strides. Unlike the others in their battle gear, he wore only a sidearm strapped to his hip.
When he reached their position, they clustered around him and listened. After just a few words, they turned as a group and followed him up the sidewalk.
Gong relaxed for a moment as they walked away. His relief quickly turned to despair when the soldiers stopped in front of the house Simmons was in.
He pushed back his chair and jumped to his feet with the backpack in his hand. The presence of the Humvees and the accompanying soldiers hadn’t gone unnoticed. He had to push his way through the small crowd that had gathered.
Distraught by the thought he might lose his target, he made his way outside and watched from the corner of the street as the officer walked up to the house and knocked on the door.
14
Knock Knock
March 26th, 20h35 GMT : 31st Street, Washington D.C.
S immons looked up at the sound of a knock on the door. He was irritated and a little bit antsy. He hadn’t been able to reach Mei or Mary and had no idea what was going on at either the hospital or University.
The television news channels had relegated the outbreak to a quick summary once every hour but the science and medial websites he browsed were awash with rumors about new outbreaks. He couldn’t confirm them though, his access credentials to the CDC website had been revoked. Maybe I should just head back to my office.
As he debated what to do, Emma padded across the wooden floor in her socks to answer the door. She opened it and stepped back as a middle-aged black man in a uniform strolled through it. He was followed by two soldiers. Others waited outside.
He smiled when he saw Simmons.
“Good afternoon, Professor…and Ms. Rice, I presume? We’ve been looking for you.”
Dumbstruck, Simmons stared—mostly at the guns the men were carrying. It wasn’t something he saw every day.
Slowly, his wits returned. He stood. “I’m sorry, who are you? How did you know I was here?”
The man, an officer he assumed, picked up the dead
“Go right ahead,” the woman who stood by the cash replied. “Theresa’s your server. She’ll be right with you.”
He thanked her and placed his backpack under the table before sitting with his back to the wall. If he leaned all the way to the right, he had a clear view down the street to the house the Professor had entered.
Atelevision, its volume turned off, was perched high in the corner of two walls. He stole a quick glance at it. He could tell from the text that scrolled across the bottom of the screen the news anchor was talking about the infections in the United Kingdom.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. No one, except for Beijing, had his number or contacts details. The message was short.
“Friends are delayed.”
“Proceed to destination.”
“Confirm.”
It was an untimely complication. He frowned, unsure what it meant. The original plan was for the extraction team to meet up with him once Simmons was secured. He had no idea if the team was already in-country or how they would get Simmons out. Regardless, the instructions were clear. He was on his own for now. He typed ‘Confirmed’ and deleted the messages.
As he slid the phone back into his pocket, three forest-green colored US Army Humvees appeared from nowhere. They stopped a few dozen feet down the street from the restaurant, their wheels half on the sidewalk. His pulse raced as a group of soldiers disembarked from the second and third vehicles.
He used his foot to slide the backpack he had placed under the table towards him. He lifted it up and reached inside to rest his hand on the Glock. If they had come for him, he would fight. The mission was too important and he was of no use to China in prison.
The soldiers huddled behind the third Humvee. A solitary figure disembarked from the first vehicle and strode towards them in a manner that suggested authority. His legs covered the short distance in a handful of strides. Unlike the others in their battle gear, he wore only a sidearm strapped to his hip.
When he reached their position, they clustered around him and listened. After just a few words, they turned as a group and followed him up the sidewalk.
Gong relaxed for a moment as they walked away. His relief quickly turned to despair when the soldiers stopped in front of the house Simmons was in.
He pushed back his chair and jumped to his feet with the backpack in his hand. The presence of the Humvees and the accompanying soldiers hadn’t gone unnoticed. He had to push his way through the small crowd that had gathered.
Distraught by the thought he might lose his target, he made his way outside and watched from the corner of the street as the officer walked up to the house and knocked on the door.
14
Knock Knock
March 26th, 20h35 GMT : 31st Street, Washington D.C.
S immons looked up at the sound of a knock on the door. He was irritated and a little bit antsy. He hadn’t been able to reach Mei or Mary and had no idea what was going on at either the hospital or University.
The television news channels had relegated the outbreak to a quick summary once every hour but the science and medial websites he browsed were awash with rumors about new outbreaks. He couldn’t confirm them though, his access credentials to the CDC website had been revoked. Maybe I should just head back to my office.
As he debated what to do, Emma padded across the wooden floor in her socks to answer the door. She opened it and stepped back as a middle-aged black man in a uniform strolled through it. He was followed by two soldiers. Others waited outside.
He smiled when he saw Simmons.
“Good afternoon, Professor…and Ms. Rice, I presume? We’ve been looking for you.”
Dumbstruck, Simmons stared—mostly at the guns the men were carrying. It wasn’t something he saw every day.
Slowly, his wits returned. He stood. “I’m sorry, who are you? How did you know I was here?”
The man, an officer he assumed, picked up the dead
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