Read Online The Mandarin Code by Steve Lewis - Free Book Online

‘China.’
    â€˜Why?’
    â€˜You matter to China. You’re a reliable source of the resources it needs for it to rise as the next superpower. But it sees you as tied to us, the current superpower, through ANZUS. That presents a problem. No matter what you say in public, in China’s mind you can’t straddle that divide forever. One day you’ll have to make a choice.
    â€˜So China needs to know your deepest thoughts. The relationships at the heart of your leadership, right down to who is literally fucking whom, if you’ll pardon my French. That’s why they opened up your parliamentary communications systems. When we found out about it we warned you. But we believe that they had access for a year.’
    Sloan’s heart sank. He was well aware of the damage. ‘Yes, it was like a fucking open-cut mine.’
    â€˜Indeed, and right now there’s a warehouse full of Chinese analysts poring over every line of what they took, looking for weaknesses.’
    â€˜I don’t doubt it.’ Sloan shook his head.
    â€˜And since our President decided to muscle up to China on its currency manipulation we’ve been recording attacks on our systems every day that are off the charts. You could be in the line of fire, too.’
    â€˜Why? What have we done? If anything our government is doing too much to appease China.’
    The general frowned. ‘Yes, we’ve noticed that. But in the end, you’re our ally. You have access to all this.’ Hargreaves swept his right arm across the bridge. ‘So that makes you a target.’
    Suddenly the general rose from his chair. The audience was over. The spymaster had real work to do, but he had one last message to send. He leaned in close to deliver it.
    â€˜Matthew, if there is one thing that you should tell your government, back in Canberra, it is this: the enemy is already through the gates.’

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    Canberra
    Harry Dunkley rolled out of his double bed, the remnant of a dream already fading. It was nearly 7am and the press gallery veteran rubbed an ache in his hip, a reminder of too much rugby in his reckless youth.
    The soft early morning light cast a glow over the sleeping Celia Mathieson. She seemed to shine from within and looked younger than her thirty-two years. Her beauty and their fledgling relationship still astounded him.
    They’d met in October when Mathieson, back in Canberra after eight years overseas, was hired by The Australian as a ‘data journalist’. Dunkley had rolled his eyes when told of the new position, assuming it was something dreamed up by Gen Y backoffice types.
    Mathieson was the only daughter of one of Canberra’s most senior mandarins, the fearsome Roger Mathieson – AO and all-round shit. Mathieson snr had bulldozed his way to the top of the public service, serving as deputy secretary in half a dozen agencies. Perhaps it was to escape from her father’s long shadow that Celia had taken off overseas soon after graduating with honours in Advanced Computing from the Australian National University. She’d only returned when her mother was diagnosed with breast cancer.
    A month after she’d started at the Oz , Dunkley had enlisted her help to trawl through the entitlement records of every MP and senator. She’d taken her time completing the task but Dunkley had been astounded by her computer skills. He’d shouted her a joint byline on the subsequent story and asked her out for a drink after she’d given him a tantalising ‘thank you’ kiss that lingered a tad too long.
    Their relationship had blossomed from spreadsheets to bedsheets, and now, as Dunkley watched his sleeping angel, he felt the guilty lust of a man who couldn’t quite believe his luck. He shook his head in wonder. What does she see in me?
    He headed to the bathroom, splashing his face to wash the sleep from his eyes before examining last night’s damage. He