Fireplay, Steve P. Vincent [best fiction books of all time txt] 📗

Chen Shubian cursed under his breath at the old Hewlett Packard as it whirred to life. He was seated at the rear of a little internet café on the outskirts of Taipei, watching the light in the middle of the case occasionally flash with activity. He was losing patience and about to force a restart when the Microsoft logo appeared.

Chen shook his head. “Vista.”

He dug a small envelope from his pocket and tore it open. Inside was a piece of paper with an alphanumeric code, meaningless to most people. It was Chen’s key to the private server set up by his employers. They’d found him on the Darknet, a refugee searching for his vengeance, and brought him to their community. Now, the private server allowed them to conduct business outside the view of the authorities.

The code wasn’t all that was required to access the server. He plugged his Hello Kitty USB into the front slot of the computer and tapped his fingers on the desk as the ancient machine whirred some more. He typed the code into the black command box that appeared on the screen and hit enter. The black box was replaced by an ordinary-looking web browser.

Chen clicked the only bookmark on the browser, which took him to a message board where likeminded people connected to chat about politics, sport and blowing up international infrastructure. A message at the top of the screen reminded users to ensure the security of the network, lest they end up in residence at Guantanamo Bay.

Chen searched his pockets again and found a small photo. He put it below the computer screen and stared at it for a few moments. His mother and father stared back at him, standing on either side of a slender fifteen-year-old boy with straight, shiny, black hair. The photo had been taken the last time Chen and his parents were all together.

Chen’s life had changed forever when his father—an employee of a large American investment bank—had been arrested on a routine business trip from Taiwan to China. He had been charged with espionage and executed after a show trial. In grief, Chen’s mother had taken her own life soon after the death of her husband.

Chen blamed China, but he also blamed the American bank that had left his father to rot. They’d obviously determined that their business interests in China were more important and had done nothing to help his father. The thirst for vengeance against China had guided Chen’s life ever since: from school, to university, to the Taiwanese Army and then its Special Operations Command. It had honed his anger and his skills.

Though the attack he planned would rock China, his employers assured him that the act would also cause great heartache for the United States. It was a happy coincidence.

He smiled with pride as he browsed the thread, which connected him with others slighted by China and united them all under one cause. He left a message for those who would help him undertake the attack, confirming the final details. He typed another to his employers in the endeavor, noting that their funding had been received and confirming the details of their meeting in a few days’ time.

When he was finished, he ejected the USB and all signs of the message board vanished from the screen. Chen left the internet café as anonymously as he’d entered, satisfied that everything was in place for the attack. He had no expectation that he’d bring down the Chinese Government, though he did believe that a heavy enough blow could cause a fracture in the monolith. He felt a small degree of guilt for the innocents who’d die, but their lives were the price of vengeance.

Men of decisive action changed the world, and if it had been good enough for Mao, who’d driven Chen’s ancestors from mainland China to Taiwan, then it was certainly good enough for him.