Caldwell and Agent Hsu arrived at The Mansion at No. 10 Shek O Road, HYDRA’s Hong Kong headquarters. The sun had suddenly come out of nowhere, despite the unmistakable chill in the air. Shek O Road on the other hand was relatively cool with shadows dancing on the asphalt as the hoverbyke glided up to the gates. In the distance, between the trees, Caldwell could make out a white four-storey house that looked like the residence of a reclusive billionaire. There was nothing about it that said secret organization. At least that’s what Caldwell thought initially.

A long winding gravel drive led up to the house, undulating through well-tended greenery. Caldwell could hear the hiss of a sprinkler system. Agent Hsu parked the byke in front of the grilled metal gate, which was sandwiched between two imposing concrete pillars. Caldwell noticed the long-range surveillance cameras, one on each pillar, panning and zooming the entire stretch of the road and its environs. On closer inspection he realized there were several camouflaged cameras in the foliage of the trees above them.

“At night, the cameras automatically switch to night-vision, capturing anything that moves with amazing accuracy,” explained Mei Lin. She hopped off the hoverbyke, which bobbed on its artificial air cushion to adjust for the weight loss. She entered a code on a keypad recessed into one of the pillars. A Plexiglas screen slid open and she positioned her face in front of it. She had taken off her helmet and there was no mistaking who she was, a fact that left Caldwell utterly speechless. Her face was much harder now, more angular but she was without doubt the same Mei Lin. A green laser caressed her face. She then placed her hand inside the recess. There was a click and the gates slid open.

Mei Lin remounted, maneuvered the hoverbyke into the compound, and turned to watch the gate close. She hadn’t spoken much since she’d delivered the bombshell. Caldwell figured that he had a whole lot of explaining to do but that now was not the time. First things first, there would be time enough for explanations. Caldwell had his suspicions that it could all be an elaborate setup. The memories of the girl Mei Lin could be Fouler’s way of ensuring that he cooperated with Agent Hsu and didn’t do a runner. It was possible that he had never met her before and Fouler was just taking advantage of the fact that Caldwell was born in Hong Kong to plant these fake memories. In fact, was he actually born in Hong Kong? There was no way of knowing without hacking the Births and Marriages database of the Hong Kong government. That was easy enough, time permitting. He could also check school records, the Hong Kong International School was probably still around.

“Inside the building there is a surveillance room with a mainframe computer that controls all the cameras, listening devices and security access to rooms in the building. Multiple monitors systematically display the various eye views of the cameras. Any slight movement anywhere on the grounds comes up on one of the screens with analysis of the most likely subject based on dimensions and speed. The computer is programmed to recognize humanoid shapes in particular,” Mei Lin continued with her lecture.

“Do you need all this security?”

“Not so far but you can’t be too careful. We are a British agency, I should say Union Agency but we are still very British, operating in a hotbed of illegal and clandestine activity. When people use the cliché that Hong Kong is East meets West, those in the know are actually talking about spies, electronic and otherwise.”

The byke cruised up to the house. The lawn in front of it was immaculate. There were two cars packed in front of the main door, a hybrid MG and an electric Toyota 4X4 SUV. A computer-controlled sprinkler decorated the well-tended lawn with a fine patina of mist. Caldwell figured that the innocent-looking exterior hid a veritable fortress. Those shuttered windows were probably bullet proof and the thick oak front door was probably lined with reinforced steel. Electronic eyes were everywhere. He spotted at least three cameras on the roof. He doubted whether HQ in London had the same level of security.

“Welcome to HQ,” Mei Lin said theatrically as she grabbed a remote control device from a compartment in the hoverbyke’s dashboard and pointed it at the side of the house. The entire side wall came away to reveal a huge garage with bays for at least ten cars and several motorcycles. There were two black Range Rover 4-wheel drives, a couple of Kawasaki motorcycles and a powerboat and matching Jet Ski on a trailer. What looked like two hoverbykes sat covered with green Tarpaulin.

Mei Lin parked the hoverbyke and they both got off. The lights had come on automatically as soon as they had entered. The garage doors closed automatically behind them. Mei Lin entered another code and another door opened. They walked into a kitchen area. The door shut with several clicks and the sound of heavy bolts ramming home.

An elegant Asian woman in her late forties stood there waiting. She was painfully slim and was wearing a thin dress of exquisite black silk, which flowed downwards in one dramatic sweep. She wore her hair in a tight bun, smoothed back from her delicate forehead. Her eyes were made up like the heroine of a lavish Chinese opera.

“Welcome Mr. Caldwell. We have heard a lot about you,” she said gracefully as she ushered them in. She gave Mei Lin a solemn wink and the agent blushed openly.

“Thank you,”

“Mr. De Witte is in his study. I suggest that you pop in and say hello as we are flying to Japan later today.”

“Sounds good.”

The middle-aged woman moved gracefully like a ballet dancer. She must have been extremely beautiful in her day. But now her face, which was beginning to capitulate to the ravages of time, bore a look of extreme sadness. Something about her made Caldwell think about geisha. They walked through a long narrow paneled corridor. The quaint woman stopped in front of De Wittes office. The gold plate on the door said Brian De Witte, Head of Operations. The woman’s trim fingers rapped on the door.

“Come in,” a thick British accent bellowed. The woman signaled for them to go through and left silently. Caldwell followed Mei Lin into the office. De Witte, who was physically larger than life, stood up and offered his hand.

“Good to see you Cad. I trust you had a good flight.” There was a flash of white teeth, the eyes trying a bit too hard to be jovial.

“I was doped up for most of it,” Caldwell said simply.

“Indeed. Please sit down. Mei Lin.” De Witte gestured for them to take seats in what looked like plusher HYDRA leathers sofas with Chinese characteristics. There was something distinctly Asian about the design. Caldwell gave De Witte the once over. There was the satisfied air of a pampered colonial fat cat about him. Caldwell wasn’t sure if the old boy look was a front for something altogether more sinister but he had thought this species of humanity had long gone extinct. His immense desk was covered with antique objets d’art and the walls were decorated with Chinese paintings and some fine-looking Japanese katana.

De Witte was dressed in an immaculate gray Saville Row suit and a pink Van Heusen striped shirt with a white collar. He was a big man with a strong face and deep-set eyes which commanded a certain degree of respect. He looked like he was hitting his mid fifties. His hair, where he had it, was thin and blonde, resembling wisps of straw. Despite the delicate features there was an edge to him that suggested ex-military British aristocracy, the type that got into the higher ranks of the army based purely on lineage but duly bailed out, out of sheer boredom.

“I heard you used to be one of us,” De Witte said, smiling a devilish smile. His deeply tanned face crinkled at the eyes. Mei Lin frowned at De Witte and looked at Caldwell.

“In a previous life.”

“Well, good to have you back. It’s not often that one of ours leaves the nest and gets to come back. HYDRA doesn’t take too kindly to prodigal sons.”

“Guess I am the exception.”

“Yes indeed.”

Caldwell noticed from the corner of his eye, the momentary expression of disapproval on Mei Lins face. He made a mental note that Mei Lin did not think much of De Witte.

Caldwell waited for De Witte to continue.

“Well, HYDRA Hong Kong is predominantly a research and intelligence outfit. We report on developments in things such as nanotechnology, artificial intelligence, neural networks and electronic warfare. We don’t really do the kind of hands-on investigative work that you do. What should I call it, er, hacking?” He said it with that arrogant British twang that communicated exactly what he thought of it. “Having said that, we have enough evidence that something worthy of this kind of mission is going on and it appears the skills I gather you have are more appropriate.”

“So what do you know?”

“We know that some of the greatest minds in New China are working on top secret projects for the PLA. This is especially true in the area of nanotechnology and artificial intelligence. We’ve been monitoring and trying to analyze related data flows around the New China cyberspace hubs more closely. To put it succinctly, recently a lot of data has been going in and none coming out suggesting that a significant number of people were accessing cyberspace from another network sucking data in but nothing was happening the other way round. Now, that doesn’t make sense unless there was another network busy replicating all the data in cyberspace for some, I dare say, subterfuge purpose.

“Have you tried booby trapping the data so that you know at which point it disappears into this other network?”

“We’ve tried everything we know. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here and we wouldn’t be resorting to these kinds of low-level tactics. We tend to be big picture people.”

“Well now you don’t even have a postage stamp of a picture,” Caldwell offered. The arrogant fat cat was beginning to get on his nerves.

“Let’s see if you can turn that around,” De Witte said abruptly.

He was about to dismiss them when one of the many telephones on his desk rang suddenly. He picked up the receiver.

“Hello,” he said cautiously. There was a long pause.

“When did this happen?”

“Are you sure it was her? And she has the console?” There was another longish pause.

“Thanks. Follow her every move and don’t let her out of your sight. I will get back to you with specific instructions.” De Witte replaced the handset slowly and looked at Mei Lin and then at Caldwell. They were both leaning forward in their seats.

“Diane Joplin, the dead American professor’s daughter, has been tracked down by our associates in Japan. Apparently her father’s credit chip has popped up in a hotel database in Shinjuku, The Keio Plaza Inter-Continental,” De Witte announced.

“We better notify Fouler,” Mei Lin said at length. “The girl could be in danger.”

De Witte’s almost child-like fingers started typing away on a keyboard, one letter at a time. Caldwell looked around the office. There was very little emphasis on high technology. This De Witte character was obviously some kind of Luddite.

“Fouler is already on his way to Tokyo,” De Witte said staring at his computer screen.

“I wonder what she is doing in Japan?” Caldwell asked. The question was directed at nobody in particular.

“Probably some na?ve attempt to avenge the death of her father. A suicide mission if she actually tries to go ahead with it. As it happens, I am off to Japan on a long overdue family vacation. I am sure we’ll see that no harm comes to her and the console doesn’t get into the wrong hands. By the way, do you mind if I see what it looks like?”

Caldwell opened his knapsack and pulled out the black console. He placed it on De Witte’s desk and watched as De Witte’s eyes popped wide open. His hands emerged from below his desk to caress the console.

“Impressive, impressive. This is not technology. It is a work of art. I am somewhat of a collector myself.”

“Yes, still need to figure out how the hell the thing works. Definitely state-of-the-art. No doubt about that. I figure once we get it on that network it will do much more than just look pretty.”

“It sure looks like the real deal,” De Witte said, still eying the console.

“Well, from what I’ve seen this thing do so far, we may be just chipping away at the tip of the iceberg with this thing. You see these smooth sides? They are so smooth they are hiding these really tiny gaps where all the layers meet. A number of physical configurations might be possible.”

“Why make a console so intricate just to access some secret network. It doesn’t make sense. There must be something else,” De Witte pondered.

“This is what I think. The console wasn’t made specifically to access the secret China network. It was built to access any network and Yamamoto got wind of this and got his hands on them. Think of the power and how much certain people would pay to get their hands on it.”

“Indeed,” said De Witte ponderously. “I suggest you get cracking tomorrow on this network. Mei Lin will give you everything you need.”

“Excellent.” Mei Lin and Caldwell stood up to leave.

De Witte pressed the intercom on his desk. Caldwell heard it sound in a distant part of the house like fading memories of an elusive dream.

“Yes sir,” a sad female voice answered.

“Show Mr. Caldwell to his suite and have some clothes sent up to the house. Will smart casual do?” he asked.

“I’ve worn worse,” Caldwell said. While they were waiting De Witte was curiously silent. Caldwell noticed that he had exquisitely manicured fingernails, which he was examining like a fussy beautician. A few seconds later, the woman who had opened the door walked in carrying a large red leather-bound diary.

“Mei Lin, I take it you are staying in your usual suite in the house?” De Witte asked.

“Yes,” Mei Lin said simply, glancing at Caldwell.

“Well, I’ll be back from Japan in a week. Hope you can have something concrete by then,” De Witte said, rising from his desk. Caldwell couldn’t help but think the Brit was not deliberately trying to annoy. He was just one of those people that couldn’t help but grate the nerves. Caldwell nodded, picked up the console and the knapsack and they walked out of De Witte’s office. Just for the hell of it Caldwell looked back to see what the HYDRA man was up to. De Witte seemed rapt in thought. His milky blue eyes were firmly focused on his prized katana collection.