Catalyst (Breakthrough Book 3)(28)

Russo stared at him over the table. “Not his family.”

“Don’t be so sure.”

Over the years, Otero had become familiar with many of the C.I.A.’s escapades. They were as ruthless as anyone. They simply made it appear as though it was someone else. But the Americans would never point the finger at themselves. Would they?

His eyes narrowed. “Find out who it was. Now. No matter how you find them, I want to know who did this!”

“I will.”

Otero clenched his jaw and bared his teeth. He would track down who did it, who had publicly insulted him. And when he did, that man would find out that there were far worse things than letting some worthless family perish.

He waved Russo away and waited until he left the room. Otero then turned and walked angrily through the room to his study. Lined floor to ceiling with rare and expensive books, he continued to the center of the room where a round table sat. It was covered with a giant map of Brazil and the entire South American continent. Centered on the country’s highest mountain range called Acarai, stood the range’s highest and still unnamed peak.

He and his men were going to uncover its secret. Part of the Brazilian Army was coming with him and they weren’t leaving until Otero knew everything, including what the Chinese were after.

It was a question he would soon regret asking.





12





Otero’s impending regret would come from a man named Xinzhen, who stood motionless in the enormous pavilion atop the China Club hotel. Nestled in the traditional hutong area and well-known as one of Beijing’s most lavish hotels, the China Club sprawled out over ten thousand square meters and was composed of several Qing Dynasty pavilions and secluded courtyards.

Xinzhen stood solemnly, less than a meter from the thick glass wall, and peered out at the smog covered city of Beijing. The day was clearer than expected with only a thin film of pollution obstructing the view.

He scanned the light gray cityscape, noting the eerie shadows belonging to dozens of cranes with their arms rising into the air, even now. They would be gone soon but for now they remained, serving as ghostly remnants of the largest bubble in human history. A level of greatness and grueling achievement the world would not see again for hundreds of years. The world where for decades demand had radically outpaced the supply of natural resources, only to leave the most immense economic vacuum imaginable.

Reality was starting to set in, and like all economic bubbles before it, China’s delusion was now imploding in on itself. Bursting, and set to leave a wave of destruction in its wake. It was little comfort for Xinzhen knowing his country was not alone. Japan, Europe, Britain, and even the U.S., were all on their own precipice. They had each lost touch with economic reality, but none had matched the sheer insanity of mainland China. Massive amounts of mal-investment had created not just “bridges to nowhere,” but entire ghost cities able to house more than a hundred thousand residents each. Cities which still remained completely empty as though life had simply vanished from within. Built out of a construction mania and funded by government money printing, the looming destruction brought on by China’s frenzy would be epic in every sense of the word.

As Xinzhen studied the city from his pavilion, he tried to imagine what it would look like when the money, and more importantly the confidence, was gone. When all of its citizens rushed for the proverbial “exit” at once.

The collapses of other nations like Argentina and Brazil were already underway and serving as examples of what was to come. Mass shortages of food, energy, and basic staples were already rampant with citizens bartering for any amounts they could find. Pianos traded for crates of toilet paper and televisions traded for personal hygiene products were already common. The shortages in China were going to be just as bad, if not worse.

Xinzhen took a deep breath. As bad as things were about to become, he cared surprisingly little. As part of the Politburo Standing Committee of the Communist Party of China, he and the other six members had long been protected by secret plans for their evacuation and survival. They would be whisked out of the city centers to the majestic mountains of Sihanba far to the north, where vast bunkers had been constructed and stockpiled. This would allow China’s elite to survive safely for decades…if only they could live that long.

If the impossible were to be achieved, it had to be done now. Before the technical capability was lost forever. And to do it, Xinzhen was prepared to move Heaven and Earth.

He heard the door open behind him and turned to find his secretary ushering in the man he had been waiting for. Xinzhen watched the man approach through the suite’s grand entryway and stop in the middle of the expansive room. He stood erect as Xinzhen stepped away from the window and crossed the room to meet him, hands still behind his back.