Hidden in Plain Sight
Prologue: The Birth of an Assassin
This is the prologue to my new book, Hidden in Plain Sight, that focuses on the adventures of Amy McLinden, one bad-ass special operations woman dragged into the profession by the painful assassination of her father, the needs of her nation, and a rage that she can’t quench in any other way.
PROLOGUE
Guangzhou, China
2014
Patrick “Paddy” McLinden could hear the blare of sirens as the motorcade approached Guangzhou’s White Swan Hotel on Shamian Island.
The official convoy was just one moment away from where he stood ready to greet the Vice President and his wife.
Quite the coup being named the official greeter, a real feather in his cap.
He nervously shifted his weight, one foot to the other, as he mentally rehearsed the welcoming procedure.
He would open the limo door, welcome the Vice President and his wife to Guangzhou, and then lead them to the VIPs waiting in line to shake the great man’s hand.
No problem, he had this.
At least that was what he thought until he glanced over his shoulder to make sure he remembered all the VIP’s names.
His heart leapt into his throat as his eyes settled on the first man, a top-ranking Chinese official named Henry Fok, pronounced Fuck, just like the English swear word.
The scene was hectic. There was a lot of ambient noise. People talking, cameras clicking, video being recorded, shouts from the media, and a gaggle of hypersensitive White House Advance Team staffers present to ensure that no glitches occurred.
Because of the noise, Paddy would have to raise his voice to make the introductions, and he could hear himself shouting, Mr. Vice President, allow me to introduce Henry Fuck.
His shoulders sagged, and he looked at the ground and shook his head.
He was positive that as soon as he uttered those words, the Vice President’s wife would put her hand over her mouth in shock, and he would be unceremoniously muscled out of the way by a White House staffer who would take over.
No doubt, shortly thereafter, an official cable of reprimand would be sent to CIA, and his career would be over.
But, as the Agency’s chief of clandestine operations in southern China, he wasn’t without talent.
He could think quickly on his feet, so, feeling no guilt whatsoever, he unilaterally changed Henry’s last name to Fook, rhyming with spook, which made him smile.
Coming from him, the top U.S. spy (spook) in the region, the name change was fitting and ironic.
Scanning the crowd, he saw his daughter, Amy, standing at the ready to record her dad’s historic event.
She waved and gave him the thumbs up.
He grinned and nodded to her. She was his pride and joy.
The head of her Army ROTC Battalion at the University of Montana, she was soon to graduate and be commissioned as an Army 2nd lieutenant with a bachelor’s degree in International Relations.
She had hurriedly taken leave and made the trip to China as soon as she heard that her dad would be the official greeter for the Vice President. She was his only family since mom passed, and she wouldn’t miss it for the world.
A moment later, the Vice President arrived, and her dad did her proud, and she had it all on video.
But during the next two days of frantic activity, Paddy worked his ass off, and she was unable to connect with him at all except for a few hurried phone conversations.
Finally, when it was all over and the VP had departed Guangzhou for Shanghai, Paddy was spent.
He didn’t even have enough strength to return to Amy at his apartment in the city, so he remained in the hotel room which was paid for until the next morning.
He called her and explained the situation, and they agreed to meet for breakfast at the White Swan.
“I’m so sorry sweetie. You’ve come all this way and we haven’t been able to spend any time together,” he said.
“Yeah, well that all ends tomorrow, big guy. You just tell all those high mucky mucks at the consulate that you’re sick and can’t come to work. I’m extending by a couple of days so you can make it up to me, and I’m not taking no for an answer, understood?” She asked.
“Yes ma’am, lieutenant ma’am. Loud and clear!” He said laughing.
After they ended the call, Paddy thought about his young daughter for a while.
She was an amazing person. Tougher than most of the men she competed with, and if the truth be known, smarter too.
After graduation, she would go to Army Airborne school to win her parachute wings, and then on to Special Forces or Rangers. But no matter which unit she ended up in, Paddy was sure she would lead it. It was in her nature.
Too keyed-up to sleep, he left the hotel at 2 am and strolled around the island, one of his favorite places in all of Guangzhou because of its historic significance.
In the mid-1880s, it was ceded by the Qing government to the British and French as their exclusive foreign trading enclave. Now, it was a national heritage park with some of the best-preserved colonial architecture in Asia.
He meandered with no plan. Just walking off the tension.
He noticed a white van pull to the curb a hundred feet away. No doubt surveillance by the Ministry of Public Security.
For all Agency personnel in-country, surveillance was a fact of life, 24/7, but he wasn’t doing anything spooky, so he wasn’t concerned.
Just as he passed the closed Starbucks, he heard a grating sound in his ears and felt a strange vibration in his head.
He suddenly felt nauseous and dizzy and sat on a park bench to steady himself.
Sitting didn’t help, so he laid on his back, which made it worse. He bolted upright and vomited, unable to gain his equilibrium.
Sensing danger, he stood up uneasily, intuitively knowing that this wasn’t just a case of nerves and that he needed help.
He looked toward the white van, and it was slowly turning the corner.
No sooner had it disappeared, than the bizarre sensations ceased as quickly as they had arisen.
Paddy frowned. He had recently debriefed a source that reported that China was working on a new “sonic gun” designed to attack the brain, but he had been unable to write it because of the Vice President’s visit.
He had received a full medical exam prior to being assigned to China, and he exercised daily, so, he didn’t think what he had just experienced was a medical problem.
And he didn’t think it was a coincidence that his symptoms almost exactly matched the coming and going of the white van.
He sat back down and took deep breaths, and as time passed, he felt better.
Man! I’ve really fucked-up. My source was right. I’ve just been attacked by the new sonic gun, and I’ve got to get back to base and send that report out tonight! If this goes worldwide nobody will have a clue about what is happening, he thought to himself.
Assured that the danger was past and that he was up to the task, he began walking back.
Each step better than the previous.
Then the white van reappeared, and the bottom fell out.
Wracked by extreme vertigo, he stumbled and fell to the ground, convulsing and covering his head as if to ward off invisible blows.
His legs thrashed uncontrollably. He let out a stifled scream, stiffened, and went silent.
Discovered a few minutes later by a People’s Armed Police patrol, he was rushed to a hospital. The consulate was informed, and they called Amy.
After the Chinese doctors administered numerous tests, she was allowed into his room.
He looked dazed and scared. Older by ten years. Not her father at all. Almost unrecognizable from the proud man she had filmed a couple of days ago.
“Oh my god, dad, what happened,” she said as she gave her father a hug and kiss.
“Oh Ames,” he said. “Things are really topsy turvy.” He looked into her eyes to see if their private code was recognized, and said again, “I mean, really topsy turvy.”
He reached out for her and pressed a piece of paper into her palm while he pulled her into a hug. He turned his head and gave her a kiss on the cheek and whispered, “You’ve got to tell Uncle Bob. Only Uncle Bob. Promise. Don’t look at the paper until you’re absolutely alone, understand?”
She drew a ragged breath and exhaled.
She whispered in return, “I understand daddy. I won’t look ’til later, and I’ll only tell Uncle Bob.”
He kissed her on the cheek again and laid his head against the pillow.
“Sorry sweetie, I’ve got…to rest now,” he said slowly, and then lapsed into unconsciousness.
Amy stood vigil outside his room.
At 4:30 am, she had just started to doze when she heard a screech and rushed into the room to find her dad sitting bolt upright grasping his head.
Half crazed, he panicked and began batting the air around his head like a scene from The Birds.
Suddenly, like a switch had been turned off, he became still.
His mouth agape, he looked at her, sighed, and gave her a weak smile.
But before she could reach him, he collapsed and fell awkwardly off the bed.
He was dead before he hit the floor.