Chapter 82
Santosa Island, Singapore
The two zodiac’s carrying eight men, all wearing night vision goggles and black bodysuits, landed and unloaded their gear under a moonless sky in the dead of night. After the sentries were posted, four men carried a heavy watertight coffin like box made from CPVC the short distance to the perfect spot where it would be buried in the soft ground, awaiting its intended use. The box contained a storage tank that held five gallons of hydrofluoric acid, a pneumatic Teflon pump, PFA hose and spray nozzles, a pressurized air tank, a ball screw cylinder, a scissors lift, four one inch diameter precision ground shafts with matching liners bearings, two small servo motors, a programmable logic controller, its own power supply, and lastly, a very deadly weapon.
Within an hour, the box was placed in the pre-arranged position, and the dirt that displaced the box was bagged and taken back to the Zodiac, where it would be dumped in the ocean. After this was completed, the ground around the box was tamped down solid, and the surface was manicured to match perfectly with the rest of the landscape. After completing their work, the eight men boarded their watercraft and headed for a boat waiting for them in the calm waters of the South China Sea.
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After her brief meeting with Jesse, Sydney informed her assistant that she wanted to cancel her golf outing and stay in for the rest of the day. But after giving it further consideration, she decided that the game and some fresh air might take her mind off Jesse and the apparent problems she was about to face when she returned to Washington.
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The President’s motorcade was escorted through the blocked-off streets of Singapore by Singapore’s elite police squads, who took extreme measures to protect the U.S. President and all the other dignitaries attending the trade conference. The motorcade passed over the Sentosa Bridge and arrived at The Sentosa Golf Club twenty minutes after leaving her posh hotel. Sydney was greeted by Peter Downie, the General Manager of golf operations, and several other high-ranking staff members. They gave her a short tour of the exclusive golf club hosting the Barclays Singapore Open, which attracts the top golfers from around the world every fall. The golf outing had been planned for weeks, and the foursomes were drawn by lottery. Sydney was slated to ride with Japan’s Industry Minister Yukio Edano, while in the next golf cart was China’s newly appointed Commerce Minister Chen Li and South Korea’s Trade Minister Kim Sung-Hwan.
Yukio Edano was a large, powerful man in his mid-50s who was blessed with a perfect golf swing and the experience of knowing how to use it. He was by far the best golfer in the group besides Sydney. The two other men hadn’t played much golf and were just in it for business. At first, Sydney didn’t have her head in the game, but as the play progressed, she found herself in a tight match with Edano, and her competitive nature kicked in and took her out of her funk. All the men spoke excellent English, although Sydney would have had little trouble speaking with each man in their native tongue.
Security was tight, and every hole was lined with plain-clothed police and security forces. Sydney's secret service detail had four men in two carts following at a discrete distance. One cart would advance down the fairway on every hole while the other stayed with the president and scanned every direction for any possible threat.
Toward the end of the round, the players reached a large green area on the sea's edge, surrounded by exotic plants and flowers.
Sydney watched with sheer frustration at South Korean Kim Sung-Hwan’s slow play. The man was a hack, yet he insisted on lining up his putts like he was Tiger Woods, looking for the break from every direction only to putt the ball either too short or too long, and then doing it all over again. She couldn’t wait to get the round over with.
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The sleep was over. The spotter activated the power supply, and the PLC was powered up. He then sent a signal to the small servo motor that drove the ball screw cylinder. The gear ratio was such that it raised the scissors table ever so slowly on the precision ground shafts. Moments later, the water-tight lid seal was broken, and a small amount of dirt and debris fell into the box, but that was fine; the box and everything in it had a one-time use, and there was no need for it to seal on the O-ring gasket again. The lid and the shallow earth on top of it all started to rise, and with it, a veiled curtain was built around the inside perimeter. When the scissors jack reached its maximum height of five inches, a switch was made, and the motor controlling the ball screw stopped turning. It blended in with the surrounding foliage so perfectly that it was almost impossible to detect unless you knew exactly where to look. The spotter activated the zoom lens and worked the two servo motors perfectly, adjusting the windage and elevation until he acquired his target. Now, all he had to do was continue to track the target and wait for the signal. If anyone looked hard, they might see something out of place, but it would take a trained professional to spot it. And if that person did, it might send chills down their spine if you were protecting the most powerful person on the planet.
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The Chinese Commerce Minister took the opportunity of the slow play of Sung-Hwan to walk over and talk with the American President. They had only spoken with her a few times during the course of the game. Now, they were alone, and he took the opportunity to talk privately with the President.
"You know, I believe we've met before," he said in Mandarin Chinese.
Sydney eyed the big man with graying hair with a bit of curiosity before she spoke.
"Oh really, I have a pretty good memory for faces, but I'm sorry I don't recollect yours. Where do you think we've met before?"
"It was a very long time ago, so I didn't think that you would remember, and although our meeting was very brief, it had lasting memories for me."
At that very moment, the Minister's cell phone buzzed in the pocket of his slacks. "Will you pardon me for just a moment, please?"
Sydney nodded and looked back at the man lining up his putt with renewed irritation. She wanted to scream, "Just putt the damn ball, you hack," but she held her tongue.
The Minister finished reading his encrypted text message and returned to his conversation with Sydney.
"I believe we met in Vietnam."
Sydney turned her head swiftly back to look at the man with renewed interest.
"Oh really, I've never been to Vietnam. I'm sorry, you must be mistaken," but an epiphany came over her as the words just finished leaving her mouth.
"Oh, I never forget a face, especially one as beautiful as yours."
Sydney smiled, "You are very ingratiating, Mr. Li, but I still believe you have me confused with someone else."
“Actually, my name is Chen Li Tang, and no, it was at Xuan Loc in 1975, and I did my research on you. I believe you were working for your government’s CIA at the time.”
Sydney said nothing in reply this time. She just stared at the man, trying to recall his face. The man started to laugh, yet it was short-lived, and his features turned hard.
“I was your prisoner, and you removed one of my testicles because I believe you said that I killed your friend. I spent six weeks in a Hanoi hospital after the fall Xuan Loc because of you. You know it’s rather funny. I had you in my rifle sights that day, but I chose to kill your big male companion leaning against a Jeep instead. It’s a Pity…I should have killed you first, although I’m about to rectify that mistake.”
Sydney let out a short laugh and said, “And just how do you intend to kill me? With you putter?”
Now, it was Li’s turn to laugh.
“No, I plan on killing you with the same type of weapon that I killed you partner with in Vietnam.”
Sydney looked at all the security around her and turned her attention back to Li.
She smiled at Li and said, “Well then, I guess I just should have killed you that day instead of cutting off one of your testicles, Mr. Tang, or Li, or whoever your name is.”
*****
Tim Slater continued to monitor the area in every direction; however, two areas concerned him the most: the water along the green and the dense foliage on the slight rise just above it. As he scanned the foliage, something caught his eye; a dark area looked a little out of place, and he started to move toward it.
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Li noticed the secret service agent moving toward the foliage and not waiting for her reply, he lifted his putter on top of his shoulder. The spotter on a shipping crane 1200 yards away picked this up and immediately pressed the red button on his control panel.
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Slater saw the slight reflection off the glass a bit too late. He tried to get between the threat and the President, but he knew that he was too late when he heard the sound of the suppressed weapon fire. Instantly, he turned to look at Sydney. To his immense relief, she was still standing. His command to get down wasn’t even out of his mouth when he realized in complete horror that he had been mistaken. He watched helplessly as the President looked down at the small hole that was quashing blood out from her chest, and she dropped to her knees. The bullet had hit center mass just to the left of her sternum. It just grazed her left ventricle, but the hydrostatic shock had done its damage. The fatal bullet then ripped between two of her back rib bones before it finally exited her back and into the water behind her. Sydney lingered on her knees for just a few seconds before she finally fell on her side.
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Slater started screaming commands into his lip mic as he ran to Sydney's side. He was the first to reach her and was quickly joined by another agent seconds later. He turned her from her side and onto her back. He gently lifted her head and supported it with his arm. Slater tried to talk to her, but he knew the shot was fatal. Her lifeless hazel eyes stared at the blue sky, and Slater noticed that she had an odd look of contentment on her still-beautiful face. Then, looking at his county's fallen leader lying with a hole in her chest, Tim Slater started to weep.
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Having completed its intended task, a signal was given to the small motor that operated the ball screw, which lowered the scissors jack almost to its original position, and a blast of compressed air blew away most of the debris from around the lid sealing area before it closed. When that job was completed, a pneumatic diaphragm pump started dispensing the five gallons of hydrofluoric acid onto everything in the CPVC box, ensuring that by the time the investigators dug it out of the ground and opened it up, little, if anything would be left for them to find.
