The Chinese Doll

By Ian McBride

 

The Chinese Doll

What happens when your matchmaker turns out to be the Chinese Communist Party?

Australian artificial intelligence expert, Daniel Petersen, is tricked into a relationship with Mei Wong, a member of the local Chinese diaspora.

Mei is an innocent and reluctant participant in a plot planned over many years and driven by China's insatiable need for intelligence.

By accident, the plot is revealed and the Australian Federal Police, and other global security resources, detect similar plots afoot worldwide. A global sweep of the local diaspora is executed to scoop up perpetrators and victims.

Undaunted by the attack on their network, the CCP, having initially failed to get what they want in secret, up the stakes in a rash move that threatens both Daniel's and Mei's lives.

When their Plan B goes awry the CCP activities are exposed to the world, and they are forced into sweeping changes with ramifications at the pinnacle of their despotic regime.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Marathon Investments
• Release date: Nov 25, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215349656

Book preview

Prologue

Sydney, Thursday 25 January 2024

Daniel opened his eyes . Black. Everything was black. His mouth tasted like ... he tried to swallow ... gagged ... he was sucking on a dry cloth. He tried to push it out with his tongue. No luck. Gagged.

Get that out of his mouth. They need him alive.

From behind him a hand grabbed his face, yanked the cloth out and slopped water down his parched throat. Most of it spluttered out as he convulsed, attempting to swallow and breathe.

Don’t drown him! Sit him up against the side.

The blindfold fell from his eyes as his kidnapper dragged him up. He sat blinking in the dimness; a bearded face with dark angry eyes stared back.

Look what you did to Amir!

He peered at the unconscious body next to him, blood trickled from the corner of the mouth of the prone individual. He remembered leaving the hotel. He remembered seeing a van parked near where he was headed, as he turned the corner from the hotel. He remembered being shoved in the back as he drew next to the van. He remembered lashing out with his feet as he was held down from behind.

A spare wheel was pressing into his butt. He struggled to get into a comfortable position, but his feet and hands had been tied. He fell over onto his side, hitting his head against the back of the front seat. He was dragged into the upright position.

Who are you guys? What do you want?

Shut up, or I’ll shove this back in your mouth.

You’ve got the wrong person! I don’t know what you want!

Daniel Petersen, important scientist. We have the right person, the driver said.

The van turned a corner and Daniel crashed over again. His head slammed into the floor. Where he stayed.

His head pounded and his neck ached.

Thunk ... thunk, thunk ... thunk, thunk ... thunk. He felt the noise as much as he heard it. Are we on the bridge? He thought.

One more thunk ... thunk, then the humming noise of rubber on bitumen.

So, we crossed the bridge, we’re heading north then  - he thought.

Amir better be okay or you will pay. His kidnapper said and smacked Daniel hard across the back of his head.

Everything went black.

Chapter 1

Hawthorn, Melbourne, Tuesday 5 April 2022

Daniel pulled his Tesla in behind his younger brother’s bright red Mustang. He smiled and shook his head as he inserted the key into the front door of the home they shared in Hawthorn.

Hey, Ad. Where are you?

On the balcony. I’ve got drinks.

That bloody Mustang, mate! Could you get anything more blatantly obvious? Seriously. He said as he exited the lounge room leading to the balcony.

Better than that sewing machine you drive.

Yes, but when I drive my Tesla, I am helping to save the planet.

Yes, but when I drive the Mustang, I am helping to save my soul.

Tosser, he laughed, sometimes you really are a tosser.

Adam lolled, full length on the three-seater lounge, head resting on the arm, his right leg hooked over the back.

Comfortable, are we? Daniel asked and picked up his glass. He stood sipping the whisky his brother had ready for him, enjoying the gentle burning sensation of the first sip.

Very comfortable, thanks. Sounds like you had a rough day then.

Not especially. Just ended with another late afternoon conversation with Pengilley. That’s never going to let me enjoy the night.

He’s that bad?

Not really, but we’re so different. He’s so bloody pompous, and he thinks and works like he’s running on tram tracks. I’m ... well, you know how I like to work. More freestyle.

Adam sat up; suddenly conscious he was taking up too much space on the only comfortable seat.

Daniel flopped next to him and put his arm around his shoulder. How’s your day been, little brother?

Get out of it. And don’t call me little, Adam said, trying to push Daniel away.

There were a few times my being bigger saved your arse.

And you never get tired of reminding me.

The boys looked like their father; sandy-haired, blue eyes, and handsome in a way that most would describe as ‘rugged’.

Daniel ruffled Adam’s hair and moved to the end of the lounge and slid down, resting the glass on his chest.

This Bushmills single malt is way smoother than that blend we were drinking last week, Adam said.

I guess so. I still like a good blend. Dad preferred the blend over a single malt.

He grew up drinking Jim Beam. What did he know?

True, that.

Adam’s phone rang. Are you going to get that? It’s rung twice since I sat down, Daniel said.

It’s work, and I’ve been trying to duck them. But I should take it. He said as he went inside.

Daniel stood and leaned against the balcony. From where their house sat on Fairview Avenue, they had magnificent vistas up and down the river. He loved this view. He loved this house. His parents had told them they designed and built it to remind them of their homes in the US. Daniel wanted to protect both their memory of their home and most of all, his memory of them. As long as he lived here, he felt like their parents were still present. It was why he had resisted all of Adam’s suggestions to make upgrades. To make changes felt like it was scratching away at the memory.

Adam finished his call and returned with the near-empty bottle of Bushmills.

Sort it out?

Yes, just stuff, you know how it is!

God, I love that smell, Daniel said as he took a deep breath.

What, the eucalyptus? You and Mum both used to go on about that. I suppose you know the exact temperature it has to be for them to release that perfume.

I am not that anal. Give me a break. It just reminds me of her.

Bit of a nostalgia night tonight then? I was just thinking about the first night Dad suggested we have a whisky with him. The look on Mum’s face was priceless. I’m not sure she was that keen on the idea, but I think Dad wanted to start a ritual with us, Adam said.

We were pretty young; he just wanted someone to have a drink with. Besides Mum, that is, and they both chuckled at the thought.

That reminds me, when I was fishing around looking for the plans for this place, I found that letter from that solicitor, Adam said.

Why do you want the plans?

I have a mate who’s an architect and I just thought I might get him to do some concepts, on, you know, maybe some changes we might make.

You know my view on that, Ad.

Yes I do, but the last time I checked this place is half yours and half mine, so I am entitled to think about changes.

What about the solicitor’s letter? Daniel said, steering the conversation away from one of the few topics that always caused angst between them.

I reread it. It just reminded me how little we really know about their lives in the US. I guess the older I get the more I want to know about it. Don’t you ever wonder?

I don’t. No. What did it say again?

"Nothing much, just where they were born, which we knew anyway, and then that they worked with the CIA and that their move here was ‘dictated by circumstances’."

Part of me says I don’t want to know what that means.

What if we got a lawyer to send an FOI request to the CIA?

Forget it. They aren’t going to tell us anything. We just need to be happy with the fact that they were great parents and that’s it.

They sat silently for a while.

How’s it going with Lauren? Daniel asked.

At the mention of her name, Adam’s blue eyes lit up and he sat forward on the couch.

Oh, hello, that got your attention, Daniel said.

Since you ask, it’s pretty bloody good. We’ve been together for six months, which is some sort of record for me. I really like her, and I mean, a lot!

Don’t you two have a conflict with her being the agency account exec for your business?

No. At the start, we both told management that we were seeing each other. She was due to transition off our account anyway, so they just sped that up a bit.

That’s good. I like her. She seems to understand you, and you seem saner since she’s been around.

Saner. Right, thanks! Anyway, what about you? You need someone in your life.

I’ve got you!

Very funny.

I’m just too busy. And besides, there’s plenty of time ... plenty of time.

The doorbell chimed. That’ll be Lauren. She said she’d drop by on the way home from work, Adam said as he went to let her in.

Hey Lauren, we were just talking about you, Daniel said, as she came out onto the balcony.

Seriously? Well, my ears weren’t burning so I guess it was nothing bad.

If there’s any spare pizza in that box, I’d kill for a slice, Daniel said, eyeing the familiar-looking flat carton she was carrying.

Sure, I had all I want in the car coming here.

Couch or chair? Daniel asked.

Chair is fine.

Pinot, I assumed, Adam said as he arrived, glass in hand.

Excellent. So, what’s this I hear, Adam Petersen? Have you been talking behind my back?

Well, it would only be something nice.

Oh, you crawler. Save that for your clients, buddy.

Scoffing the remaining pizza, Daniel said, Well, just to back him up, it was nice.

Smell that eucalyptus, Lauren said drawing in a lungful of the evening air.

Oh, not you too. I’m surrounded by essential oil addicts.

Look at you two sitting there, like two peas in a pod, except one pea is a couple of sizes bigger than the other, Lauren said.

"Keep that up and I will start talking behind your back."

I think you’re perfect, Ad. It’s just when I see Daniel next to you, I realise the size difference.

Yeah, well, he was Mum’s favourite, so she fed him up.

Are you going to stay over tonight? Adam asked.

No, I have to run. I just wanted to see you.

Oh, true love! Daniel said as he went inside with the empty pizza box, and to visit the bathroom.

Has she gone already? Daniel asked as he returned to the balcony.

Yup, but she said to say see ya. Adam looked at his phone. I better hit the sack. I have a client pitch tomorrow, and I need my brain in gear.

Yes, good idea. I have to give an update to Pengilley.

One more wouldn’t hurt though. And this one’s empty, so I better get another, Adam said.

Daniel watched as Adam retreated inside. The number of times he had to pull Adam out of scrapes when his cheekiness had got him in deeper than he could handle. He recalled his mum saying every time they went out at night, ‘Daniel, make sure you watch out for Adam.’

Adam returned to the balcony. I assumed you wanted another Bushmills.

Cheers. Might as well stick to one poison. So, how’s work going? Daniel asked, taking his replenished glass.

The new job is right in my wheelhouse. The marketing director is an old fart; I reckon if I play my cards right, I might just be next in line if they tip him out.

Daniel smirked. Charming.

Just the way it is. In marketing, in the sporting apparel business, it’s all about new blood. New ideas. Adam rubbed his hand over the arm of the couch. Where’s your project up to?

Daniel sighed, the question reminding him of the trying day he wanted to forget We’re right at the pointy end. And we’ve leapfrogged the Americans and Europeans. God knows what the Chinese are up to, but we’re on the cusp of something huge.

I know your speciality is artificial intelligence, but what are you trying to use it to do.

You know I can’t go into detail, because of the nature of the project, but in simple terms.  Artificial intelligence is about devices learning to mimic what humans do, right? What our project is trying to do is to streamline the learning process to reduce the learning time lag, which will be needed if we want to use AI for guidance systems.

Right, well what I know about AI you could put on the back of a stamp. One night when I haven’t had three whiskies, you can explain that all again, but right now, I’m going to hit the sack.

The brothers finished their drinks, stood and embraced. I’m so proud of you, Dan. And Mum would be especially.

Daniel gave Adam an affectionate ruffle of his hair, but Adam ducked away. Stop that!

The following morning, Daniel woke to clattering in the kitchen. Ad don’t leave a mess like you usually do. Even the cleaner is starting to complain, he yelled.

Adam slammed the front door as he left, ignoring the regular rebuke. Daniel dragged on tracksuit pants and walked bleary-eyed into the bathroom. That last whisky wasn’t a good idea, he said to the tired face that greeted him in the mirror. Fifteen minutes in the shower will fix that.

Refreshed by the shower and a Berocca, Daniel braced himself for the mess he assumed he would face in the kitchen.

What a bloody grub, he thought as he scooped up the remnants of Adam’s breakfast. I need to give Lauren the heads up, no one should have to live with this.

Chapter 2

Daniel groaned quietly as he arrived at the office. He surveyed the surroundings. The glass and laminate, colourless fit out. Nothing says public service more, - he thought. He walked over to one of the many unloved indoor plants sitting sadly in the corner. Presumably, some dictate from HR must have insisted they should have. ‘One every twenty square metres’ - he thought, and brushed one of the leaves, which immediately fell to the floor.

He looked over and saw the top of Art’s head behind a partition, his long black hair tied up in its usual topknot.

Hey Art, do you sometimes regret our decision to move our project into this place?

Morning Dan. You sound like you’ve had a good start to the day.

He joined Dan and together they examined the sad-looking plant. Well as a metaphor for how I feel about the office, I think that plant says it all.

Daniel laughed and patted his technical lead on the arm, You always have a great turn of phrase.

That said, I do think we’ve both thrived surrounded by the people here. There are a lot of very smart people.

"True, if only I could find a way to do what we do without having to deal with the ‘bow tie’! I have a briefing with him at twelve."

He was just here looking for you.

Oh, Christ he’s so persistent.

I better crack on then, Art said. Dan looked at his short, square frame rolling side to side as he navigated the passageway back into his cubicle.

He remained, staring at Art, as he thought about how very different they were in looks and circumstance. But when it came to work, they were as one.

Daniel flicked on his computer. A meeting invitation from Pengilley pinged on his screen. The time indicated was now. Daniel punched the decline button in frustration. As if in response, Pengilley’s head appeared over the top of the partition.

Good morning, old boy. Love to talk if now is a suitable time. Mind if I sit? He pulled a chair from nearby and sat.

You ponce thought Daniel, I thought I was giving you an update at midday? 

Absolutely old boy, but I wanted to talk to you about something else.

Well, I guess since you’re here ... Daniel replied, leaning back in his chair. Any chance I can stop you? - He thought.

Pengilley was short, with close-cropped grey hair, in Daniel’s mind, he screamed British public service. He dressed and presented like an old-time university professor, right down to the small round glasses he wore on the end of his nose and the tiny bow tie. Today was blue, so it must be Wednesday. Really? Thought Daniel. In the twenty-first century?

Sorry for the notice, or lack of, but I just finished a call with my counterpart in the US. He would like a progress update from you.

Daniel bristled. Have you been sharing our work with the US? Without telling me?

Pengilley inhaled slowly and peered over the top of his glasses, which he then pushed back up with his forefinger, his annoyance with Daniel’s reaction very evident. Daniel, when you and your team were working alone, you controlled your environment and who knew what information. I understand that. But you must also realise that the moment you accepted funding from the government, and merged your project into the CSIRO operations, it meant I had oversight. I have a longstanding, knowledge-sharing arrangement with various contacts within the US research establishment, something I have cultivated over many years. I believe that if we can convince them of the potential of what your team has developed, they can provide the funding for the next stages. We’ll never cover your needs with our budget; their pockets are way deeper than ours.

"If we can convince them?"

"Yes, Daniel, we. Follow me. Time for a private chat, I believe."

It wasn’t a request.

Daniel followed. Off to the headmaster’s office, - he thought.

Take a seat. Now listen, old boy, I really would appreciate it if you would desist from being so prickly with me. I accept that you feel you’re in a straitjacket here, but you also need to accept that, without the resources we’ve provided, you might well not be where you are in terms of progress. Is that understood?

Daniel nodded.

I am assuming you want to see this project through to the logical conclusion. And if that is so then you need to think about the things that need to be in place to achieve that. Pengilley said.

And what are they?

Firstly, you need to be clear about what you want out of this – personally, I mean. What is it that you would consider success?

Daniel rubbed his chin. Sorry, maybe .... He bit his lip. I just ... I guess if I had to put it into words, I want to leave a legacy. I want my contribution to be something that makes a difference. Something that people can say I was the guy ... that my team were the people, who harvested the potential that artificial intelligence can provide.

I get that. A lot of us here want our work to make a difference, but it seems to me that this drive is defining who you are and what you’re like to work with. Pengilley folded his arms across his chest. At least from my perspective.

And that’s not good, I gather?

Pengilley let the question hang in the air.

I’m sorry. If that was the first thing that needs to be understood, what are the others? Daniel asked.

Just one other significant thing. To finish this project we need US funding.

Oh, that. I’m impatient to succeed but do we need the US involved? I just see them as a potential roadblock.

I understand, Daniel, I do. So let me run this ‘roadblock’ past you.

I shared your last project update with the US last month – at that joint head of department conference, I went to. My counterpart in the US just called. The US defence department and a couple of its subcontractors want to develop a prototype guidance system that would form the basis of an entirely new approach to missile and aircraft control. I believe that, based on the work your team has done, it could be what they’re looking for – assuming it proves up. The issue is they’ll want to control security around any future work, and it may mean you need to work over there.

I don’t want to work in the US. Never been a fan.

So you’ve mentioned before, would you explain that?

Just personal. Not on my wish list.

Well, the fact remains, if your work is going to achieve the result we all think it should, it means working with US resources, more importantly, with US funding. Based on comments you’ve made before about the US, I suspected your reaction wouldn’t be positive, so I’ve suggested a framework where you can work out of here in the CSIRO. I’ve discussed this with the science and technology minister. They want this to happen. So figure out the best way to present your progress and let me know. In terms of timing, two weeks works for me.

You’ve been busy. Are you sure you can get them to agree with me and the team working out of here and not in the US? Because that’s crucial to my answer.

I don’t want to cause any more friction between us than already exists, but your work product belongs to the CSIRO and the Australian government, and yes, you are core to its ongoing development, but your answer is only important if you want to keep control of it.

Daniel clenched his jaw, wishing a giant hole would open up and swallow Pengilley.

Oblivious, Pengilley pressed on. "We’re