brand of disheveled
didn ’ t sit well,
even in the oasis of calculated casual Brooklyn. They could sense a
problem with Maas, even if he didn ’ t show any visible
signs.
Maas spent his
afternoons in regimented wandering. He visited the same little
bookstore every day, but never bought anything. He starred in the
windows of the high end real estate agencies, scanning all the
posted listings but never going in the office. He roamed up and
down the tree lined avenues with his hands in his pockets and his
head low. He didn ’ t make eye contact with anyone and he didn ’ t go anywhere. He just kept walking
in circles until he could claim his favorite seat at the local dive
bar.
His choice of
seating location didn ’ t have any tactical value. Maas sat with his back to the
front door, and too far away from the back door to use it as a
viable secondary escape. Maas
didn ’ t appear to
know anything about personal security and if he did, he
didn ’ t care. His
version of escape came in a bottle. He drank a dark brown
doppelbock called Paulaner Salvator. The beer made the whole room
smell like chocolate malt when Maas drank by himself. He often got
to the bar first. By the time the after work crowd arrived, three
or four glasses stood empty on his table, circling him like
satellites. Maas wouldn ’ t leave the bar until he had at least six beers and his
consumption often ran into the double digits. Then he would stumble
back home in the dark to square off with Maria
Maas.
Hamilton Chu knew
everything about Maas ’ s pattern and preferences because he ’ d followed the stupid bastard every
day for three weeks. Chu shadowed Maas because the drunk once
designed satellite technology. For a brief moment, Erich Maas
defined satellite technology. He dropped out of Cornell as the next
big thing ten years ago. Wired magazine did a story on him soon
after, proclaiming him a revolutionary who would impact technology
as much as, if not more than, Alexander Graham Bell, Thomas Edison
and Steve Jobs. But his first major independent project failed in
spectacular fashion. Then, an attempted buyout of a competitor
crippled the financial health of his company. The final blow came
when the board of directors of the company he created bought him
out and sent him packing. Confidential sources said Erich Maas had
developed an explosive breakthrough in long range access
technology, but right now he couldn ’ t get a job installing cable boxes.
He represented a dangerous opportunity.
A
man in Maas ’ s
situation created a unique target in the world of industrial
espionage. While the tech industries of the West saw him as a
liability, countries with substandard satellite technology could
gain a tremendous advantage with Maas ’ s designs. China stood to gain the
most if they got their hands on Maas ’ s work. But high level satellite
technology fell under several national security regulations. The
NSA monitored all communications between foreign nationals and
experts at this level. Maas couldn ’ t work for, or even have contact
with, members of foreign governments without explicit clearance
from Homeland Security and Disney would start selling porn before
Maas got permission to work with Beijing. If the Chinese wanted
him, they had to recruit him in secret.
So Chu watched
and waited for any sign of Chinese operatives trying to make
contact with or pass messages to Erich Maas. When he first got the
assignment, Chu assumed Maas went through his daily ritual as part
of his tradecraft. The daily strolls could be part of a complex
pattern designed to avoid or expose surveillance. The visits to the
coffee shop offered a chance for covert conversation. The wandering
in the streets gave Maas the chance to hide and pick up packages at
designated dead drops. Even the pilgrimages to the bar might just
be a cover for his Chinese handler to meet Maas and exchange
information. Chu looked for any sign of Maas ’ s connection to
Clare Clark
H.J. Bradley
Yale Jaffe
Beth Cato
Timothy Zahn
S.P. Durnin
Evangeline Anderson
Kevin Ryan
Kevin J. Anderson
Elizabeth Hunter