The Project 01 - White Jade

lifted the box from the emperor ' s feet. Inside was a stoppered bottle of glass, filled with a light green liquid. He held it up. Flecks of golden light danced within the fluid.
    " Anyone want to take a shot at living forever? "

Chapter Forty-F ive

    Charlie Chan put the phone in his pocket . He shuffled papers on his desk and thought about the conversation he ' d just had with Colonel Wu. His cubicle was small, in keeping with his status in the FBI ' s Asian Criminal Enterprise Unit. Mostly he did grunt work, interviewing Chinese speaking immigrants and shop owners, translating odd pieces of information. The last few days there ' d been nothing but the most boring assignments. He couldn ' t see the relevance of what he was working on . S oon it wouldn ' t matter anymore.
    He was rattled. What if Wu wasn ' t telling the truth? If there was going to be an attack, Charlie wanted to be far away when it hit. The FBI and everyone else would go into search and destroy mode, looking for any possible connection. He ' d always been careful, but you never knew. It was time to get out.
    There was plenty of money in his offshore account, enough to start over, maybe in Hong Kong , where the PRC had a tolerant capitalist policy . H e would be back among his own people, where no one made fun of his name. For years he ' d listened to jokes about the Chinese detective of black and white movie fame. Well, now the joke would be on them.
    Charlie took the picture of his parents off his desk and put it in his briefcase. He closed the briefcase and stood up just as Zeke Jordan and two other agents came to his cubicle. They blocked the way out.
    " Going somewhere, Charlie? "
    Charlie put on his best number one son smile.
    " Got to interview a shopkeeper in Chinatown . Someone ' s threatening to break his windows and worse if he doesn ' t pay up. You know how it is, Zeke. It ' s hard to get anyone in the Asian community to talk, but this one seems cooperative. I want to get a statement from him. "
    Zeke turned to the other agents standing with him. " Get a statement. Charlie ' s really on it, don ' t you think, guys? "
    Charlie didn ' t like the way they were looking at him.
    " Make any phone calls lately, Charlie? "
    " What do you mean? I make calls all day. "
    " I meant long distance calls. You know, overseas, maybe even China ? "
    " I don ' t know what you ' re talking about. What ' s going on, Zeke? "
    " How are you planning to spend all that money? "
    Charlie felt his chest constrict. How did they know about the money?
    " What money? "
    " The two hundred and fifty thousand or so you ' ve got down in the Caymans. "
    " You ' ve got to be mistaken, Zeke. How would I get that much money? "
    " Now that ' s a real good question, Charlie. Isn ' t it, boys? "
    " Real good. "
    " Charles Chan, I ' m taking you into custody under authority of the Patriot Act on suspicion of aiding and abetting a terrorist conspiracy. Hook him up. "
    The two agents moved in . O ne pulled Chan ' s arms behind his back and handcuffed him. He wasn ' t gentle about it. The other took Charlie ' s gun and badge.
    " Hey, take it easy, that hurts. You got this all wrong. I want a lawyer. I ' ve got rights. "
    " No lawyers, Charlie. As for rights, traitors still get a few, but I don ' t remember right now what they are. "
    Jordan reached into Charlie ' s jacket pocket and removed the phone.
    " I wonder what we ' ll find here? Should be some interesting numbers. Take this scumbag downstairs and lock him up. Get him out of my sight. "
    All work on the floor stopped as the agents frog-marched Charlie away, struggling and protesting. After a moment the sounds of the office resumed. Jordan went back into the cubicle and sat down at Charlie ' s desk. He didn ' t think he ' d find anything but he was going to look just the same. H e took a few deep breaths.
    Zeke loosened his tie, waiting for his blood pressure to return to normal. H e forced himself to sit quietly. His doctor had him on meds but sometimes they didn ' t seem to have much effect. His wife was always trying to get him to eat salads and take vitamins and lay off the burgers and fries. Rabbit food, he called it, the stuff she served him. There was always McDonald ' s on the way to work.
    After a few minutes he felt better. A rotten apple like Charlie tainted everything. It made him angry.
    He called for a tech to take the computer and phone in for analysis. During the next hour he went through Charlie ' s files. He