Democracide: What if someone really did set out to destroy democracy?

By Deborah C Sawyer

What really did go on in Wuhan, China back in 2019? And does Mitch Gordon know the truth?  By 2018, Mitch Gordon thinks her career as a

professional hacker is over. So, happily retired, she embarks on an around-the-world odyssey, odd-jobbing her way through Dubai, Singapore, Thailand and Hong Kong. But, in early 2020, when the global pandemic starts, she finds herself stuck in Hong Kong, housesitting for a couple of Australian ex-pats, Fiona and Andy McAllister. What promises to be a mundane few months soon turns out to be anything but.

As the weeks pass, Mitch finds herself ensnared in a complex web. First, a scientist from Wuhan she met back in Bangkok surfaces, trying to escape from the Chinese Communist Party. Then a fugitive democracy activist in Hong Kong enters her life, also on the lam but from the Hong Kong authorities. On top of that, Mitch starts to suspect Andy McAllister knows more about the causes of the pandemic than he is letting on. As conspiracy theories start to swirl, Mitch has

no choice but to return to hacking, especially when she learns the CCP may be looking for her, too.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Information Plus (America) Inc.
• Release date: Apr 14, 2024
• ISBN: 9798986824758

Deborah C Sawyer

Deborah C. Sawyer is the author of several books, including both fiction and non-fiction. She has also written and published numerous professional articles over a 25 year career in business. She is also a gallery-hung artist and occasionally acts in film and TV.

Book preview

Deborah C. Sawyer

ISBN 979-8-9868247-4-1

Praise for Earlier Novels

by Deborah C. Sawyer

OBITUARY

A mystery examines the lasting impact of a cold case on one family. A heinous crime gets viewed through several lenses in this scintillating whodunit.

-  Kirkus Reviews

ASHES TO ASHES

Ashes to Ashes is an enthralling novel that has great lessons for contemporary readers when it comes to identity theft and intrigue.

-  The Book Commentary

High tension, abundance of intrigue, and astonishing twists make the pages fly as the narrative builds to a shocking climax. Lovers of page-turning suspense won’t want to miss this one.

-  Prairies Book Reviews

TO BE SOMEBODY

Well-written and perfectly paced with not one, not two, but three finely-woven plot lines make for an extremely enjoyable weekend read!

-  Goodreads review

-   

I’m thoroughly enjoying this title. The characters are definitely holding my attention and I’m growing ever more curious where the story is going.

-  Amazon reader UK

The author profoundly thanks John B. Bryans, once again, for his thoughtful editorial assistance.

––––––––

Copyright 2024 by Deborah C. Sawyer

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review. All media rights, including for film, television, web series or other dramatic reenactment, including radio and audio, are equally reserved as are rights for forms of media not yet in use. The same restrictions apply to uses made via Artificial Intelligence. Published by Information Plus (America) Inc., 733 Delaware Rd., 103, Buffalo, New York 14223–1231.

Publisher’s note: The author and publisher have taken care in preparation of this book but make no expressed or implied warranty of any kind and assume no responsibility for errors or omissions. No liability is assumed for incidental or consequential damages in connection with or arising out of the use of the information or programs contained herein.

This is a work of fiction. Except for references to persons well-known in the public domain, whether living or deceased, and to real events of an historical nature, the main characters and events are purely fictional.

Many of the designations used by manufacturers and sellers to distinguish their products are claimed as trademarks. Where those designations appear in this book and Information Plus (America) Inc. was aware of the trademark claim, the designations have been printed with initial capital letters.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication data

Sawyer, Deborah C., 1953 –

Democracide/Deborah C Sawyer

ISBN 979-8-9868247-4-1

273 pages (paperback version)

1. Fiction 2. Mystery I. Title

Printed in the United States of America

Democracide \di’mä-kra,sīd

Noun. 1. The destruction of a democracy; a systematic program undertaken to destroy any geopolitical entity where power is vested in the people and rule is by elected representation;

2. An agent, such as a chemical or a microbe, used to carry out the destruction of a democracy.

PROLOGUE: Toronto, Canada. 2010

I start work each evening around 8 PM. That’s when the other cleaners arrive. Now, saying the ‘other’ cleaners makes it sound like I’m one of them. Which I am, sort of.  I wear the same uniform. I’ve cropped my blonde hair short and wear brown contact lenses, so there’s less contrast with the other workers, who are every color of the rainbow. I try to keep a hang-dog, long-suffering look although I have a nice apartment – well beyond a cleaner’s wages – plenty of cash in the bank, and a lot more. But, on the surface, I blend in. In fact, I have a whole closetful of cleaning uniforms. Name a cleaning company, any company. I’ll bet you a cup of coffee I have their coverall or apron, or logo-embroidered sweatshirt. Or whatever the hell it is they are required to wear.

So, why do I dress like them, if I’m not one of them? Ha! Good question. Simply put: it allows me to wander all over, flit down hallways, into and out of offices, in all the large commercial towers, a jungle of glittering glass and soaring steel, clustering around King and Bay Streets, here in Toronto. The very heart of the financial district. Home to head offices for banks, insurers, stockbrokers and more.

But I definitely don’t go into those towers to clean. Well, not in the sense you mean. I do another kind of ‘cleaning’; instead of removing dirt and grime, I remove files and figures from hard drives and networks. Unofficially, of course. And totally illegal.

The idea of dressing like a cleaner wasn’t mine. Came from one of the people I work for. Let’s call him George.

You won’t get noticed, he’d said. Not a chance.

He was right. Oh, to be sure, I chat with the other workers. Nothing deep, just superficial. So, they don’t find me unfriendly. Usually, people dubbed unfriendly are the ones everyone else gets suspicious about. So, no, I make like I’m one of the guys. Also, by mingling a bit, I get to overhear conversations. Recurring topic of conversations: ‘papeles’. Papers. And all the grief that comes from not having the right papers. These days, usually in Spanish. Most of the cleaners are newcomers, immigrants, perhaps a refugee or two. Now, I’m not a malicious eavesdropper. I have nothing against these people. But it has heightened my awareness of the struggles so many new arrivals face. The deep sadness always cloaking their lives.

I’ve been doing what I do for, oh, four? five? years now. No one has ever caught on. I usually go into the building du jour – which one obviously depends on what I’ve been asked to find – and then I hide out. I time it for late in the day, around the time all the workers pour into the elevators, down to the streets and home. So, as they are going down, I’m going up. Usually, I have the elevator to myself. Then, I find a spot to hang out. Ladies room. A breakroom they forgot to lock up. By 7 PM, it’s usually quiet. Like a tomb. The silence is like a big sobbing breath leaving a body. Which then lies still.

So, I wait quietly until... There it is, that faint rumbling, those wheels thwacking, as the real cleaners start pushing their carts out onto the floor, opening all the office doors, emptying trash cans. I always have the right uniform on although, once, the tenant company in the space had relet their cleaning contract and I didn’t have the right shirt on. I simply put my coat on and made it look like I really worked in the office. Made a mental note of which uniform I’d need in future. And then I got to work.

Usually, as the cleaners start moving into their routines, I switch to mine. As they move down the hall, I enter each office they have left, well supplied with the USBs I need for my work. It doesn’t take much to reboot the computers and find what I’ve been tasked with collecting. Sometimes, people even tape their passwords under the desk mats or inside the top drawer, although I don’t really need the help. Why is it so easy to do what I do?

Let me give you an analogy. I saw it in the film, Lawrence of Arabia. Everyone says Aqaba can’t be taken. And Lawrence points out: Yes, it can. All the guns at Aqaba are fixed and point to the sea. That’s where everyone assumes any attack will come from. From the land side, Aqaba is defenseless.

That’s why it’s so easy for me to do what I do. The assumption by all these big banks, insurers, traders, money managers, corporate raiders and more, who ply their trade around King and Bay, is that attacks will come from the outside, so that is where all the defenses, their guns, are directed. Boy, have they ever got that angle sewn up tight. That’s why my clients didn’t want me tapping in to companies’ systems form the outside. But, from the inside? Nope. They’ve barely given any thought to someone waltzing into Harry or Chip or Sunita’s office, after hours, and getting into the computers that way.

I keep expecting to be caught. Every week. But it hasn’t happened yet. I’ve a feeling I’ll get bored and quit first. I tend to bore easily. But, yeah, that’s the way it is. Oh, sorry, forgot to introduce myself: Mitch is my name. And hacking’s my game.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Westerners

Mitch Gordon Canadian, odd-jobbing her way around the world. Semi-retired professional hacker.

Lucy Gordon Mitch’s sister. Still in Canada. Frequent Zoom companion of Mitch.

Jillian Smythe Friend of Mitch. Also lives in Canada. Occasional conspiracy theorist. Also Zooms frequently with Mitch.

Fiona McAllister Australian. Formerly based in Hong Kong. Wife of Dr. Andy McAllister, the virologist, who has extensive professional colleagues in Wuhan.

Hong Kongers

David Chang Hong Konger. Born after the handover. University student and democracy activist, on the lam from the authorities.

Harry Yap Hong Konger. Friend and classmate of David. Also lying low due to democracy activism.

Lisa Cho Hong Konger. Also active in the democracy movement. Fled to exile in Singapore.

Shen Lin Jiao David’s aunt. Not fond of the democracy movement. Denounces David to the authorities.

Fang Wu Hong Konger. Long-time cage home resident. Prolific cat burglar.

Mainlanders

Chen Ying San Beijing-based. Scientist. Occasionally works in Wuhan. New member of the CCP. Possible originator of the coronavirus project. 

Yang Wai Beijing-based. Ranking CCP member. Keen supporter of the coronavirus project.

Li Tang Bao Wuhan-based. Scientist. Formally at the Wuhan Virus Institute. Now on the lam from the CCP.

Lao Gong Senior administrator at the Wuhan Virus Institute. Very much in on the coronavirus project.

Tong Bi Yan Elderly CCP member and staffer at the Wuhan Virus Institute. As a baby, may have known Mao Ze Dong. 

Chu Ting Wan Mohe-based director of a microbiology lab. Devoted to the sayings of Mao Ze Dong. Doesn’t think much of Xi Jin Ping.

Chapter One. Beijing. March 2017

So, Comrade Chen, now we have a clear mandate!

Yes, he has made the direction very clear. No need to spell out who ‘he’ is. In the People’s Republic of China, the PRC, there was only one ‘he’, Xi Jin Ping.

The two men kept on strolling through Chao Yang Park, keeping a wary eye out for eavesdroppers. But most people were wrapped up in themselves, hurrying, heads down. In the distance, the evidence of China’s rapid growth filled the skyline. Whereas in the mid-80s, the Great Wall Sheraton Hotel had loomed lonely over a plain, no other tall buildings around, now many other towers competed for attention. The Four Seasons Hotel was one; the FX Hotel Yansha Beijing was another. And various embassies had set up shop in the area.

Chen Ying San had volunteered to accompany Comrade Yang on his walk, considering it good politics. But Yang rarely walked. He usually strode, marched might be a better word. They had powered up the streets from the Communist Party location in Chaoyang, further south on XiDaWang Road. His colleagues had given Chen looks tinged with both admiration for taking on a walk with Yang, and also disdain for why he had been so foolish.

Chen was still getting used to being a party member, proud to be the colleague of the other 96 million comrades in the Chinese Communist Party, also known as the CCP. He had managed to be accepted by age 40, quite young really. Some members only entered after the age of 50. From the Communist Youth League where members aged from

14 to 28, and where Chen had spent years learning about ‘socialism with Chinese characteristics’, he had applied at age 29 to join the CCP, initiating the multiyear, 20-step process, while his qualifications were reviewed and he attended study sessions.

This meant a rigorous screening process had occurred before Chen was granted membership. It was really the opposite of what happened in the Western democracies, he knew, where it seemed anyone who showed up with a check in hand could join a political party. And that system had led to someone like Donald Trump being elected President of the United States. To Chen and many of his colleagues, it really showed up the weakness of the Western approach and the strength of the Chinese approach. In China, there was just one party. And it was damn difficult to join. The system was vastly superior to the messy, multi-party approach in the West.

Yang Wai, meanwhile, was a longtime member and was tasked with quietly vetting newer members like Chen. He considered Chen had potential but needed to work harder. He was not sure Chen had the potential to be a mass leader but, still, the man was young. Give it time. For himself, Yang hoped he would soon be considered as a delegate for the next National Party Congress and, who knows, in due course, to be chosen for the Central Committee. He also wouldn’t mind a stint working for the CCP Central Propaganda Department. That would be a superb opportunity to make a contribution. He wanted to move up the ranks of the CCP, even dreaming of making it into the Politburo at some point.

––––––––

But, Comrade Yang, don’t you think it is an extensive challenge?

Yang Wai whirled around to face his younger colleague. He was stocky, in his mid-50s, still with a good head of hair, no signs of graying. His lower lip protruded, giving him a perpetually dissatisfied look, which no doubt added to the fear he inspired in his younger colleagues.

By ‘extensive’ you mean?

Chen Ying San quickly spoke to correct his mistake. It never did to make mistakes with colleagues who outranked you as Yang Wai did.

Oh, by extensive, Comrade Yang, I did not mean impossible or difficult. Just broad in scale.

Yes, yes. That is so.

They kept walking, two gray raincoat-wrapped figures, heads down, lost in the crowd ebbing around them. Chen, tall and thin, was nearly drowning in his coat, he had got it for a good price but now regretted it, as it was two sizes too large. On meeting Chen for the first time, most people decided he was the nervous type but that was because he was usually cold and shivering. Although today, Chen could hardly blame his overcoat. It was his own poor choice to wear it that led to him being cold. It had rained this morning and the temperatures were stuck around 8°C. Really, he should try and get a parka. Or buy one of those vests, called ‘puffer vests’ in the West, that would keep him warm. Suddenly, Chen had a eureka moment, distracting him from the conversation. With a vest underneath, his raincoat would look like it fit him! An admirable solution! His comrade’s voice yanked him back to the present.

But, do not forget, Yang hastened to calm any fears of his younger comrade, the world’s democracies are very fragile. Not all those living in a democracy support that way of life. Many wish to see firmer government, better control.

Less randomness in their lives? Chen, sensing his earlier slip of the tongue had been forgiven, ventured a thought.

That is a good word for it. Yang stopped, looked at the sky, then decided to walk back towards ChaoYangGongYuan Road, Chen trotting along.

In my experience from visiting the West, Yang continued, there are so many problems. Democracies are riddled with problems. So much poverty, homelessness, illnesses. So many citizens who act to undermine the government. Too much dissent. Too many triggers of instability. Too much lawlessness just under the surface. No respect for elders. Tolerance of deviant behaviors and practices. Every democracy is a cesspool of corruption.

Not like here, where our beloved late leader, Chairman Mao, led the people to stability with housing and health. Seeing to it all the flies were killed.

Yang laughed. Yes, yes. There were so many advances here with our system of government. Another pause. He looked around. Picked another path back to the street. Chen followed.

But you are right. The scope of work is immense. To bring a more orderly form of government to the world and remake the world on Chinese principles.

Chen realized they were nearing the meeting location and felt a huge wave of relief. The expedition – there was no other word for it – was nearly over.

If I may be so bold as to suggest it, won’t we need some sort of agent, on the ground, in each of the democracies, to move them over to Chinese principles? Chen hoped he had not said too much.

You mean, like a member of the overseas Chinese community? Like many in the CCP, Yang did not recognize that persons of Chinese descent in the West could possibly have allegiance to anyone or anything other than China. Even if the person had never set foot on the mainland, even if their ancestor had left 200 or 300 years ago, it made no difference to the view of the CCP. The overseas Chinese population was theirs.

Well, no. Chen became nervous. Afraid he had again spoken out of turn.

Chen Ying San, Yang began. Please do not be afraid to speak boldly. Any plan to achieve Chairman Xi’s objectives must be fully considered, even if it is later discarded. We know our strength lies in being thorough, in considering all options and in being patient. Remember our ancient proverb: One must be daring in conception but cautious in implementation.

Chen oozed relief and hoped it didn’t show.

Well, by agent, I was thinking of something smaller than a person, more an agent that would act on the people within the democracies to force them to change their behaviors.

Ahh. Yang looked at his younger colleague with some admiration. That is certainly a daring conception. What do you have in mind?

Well, I have heard... Chen stuttered, then composed himself and continued: There is research being done in one of our facilities in Hubei province that might have merit for this purpose...

Would it kill people? I am not sure that is Chairman Xi’s objective. Submission is more the goal.

Oh, no, no. At least, not exclusively. What I am thinking of is the work that has been done on the virus discovered back in 2012, in Mojiang County, in Yunnan province. Coronaviruses. What is sometimes referred to as ‘gain of function’ research.

Oh... Yang stopped walking and stared at the ground, indicating Chen should keep talking.

Yes, the virus from the bat feces, very lethal then, has been modified, so it is not quite as lethal. But if there was a spread of such a virus well... It would be like a plague. The consequences would be that Westerners would have to alter their behaviors and their societies. Their governments would have to impose strict order. Curfews. Closures. Lockdowns. Tight surveillance of citizen movement. Otherwise, the loss of life would be catastrophic. It could provide the catalyst for a major disruption of democracy.

And is this possibility being explored?

Well, colleagues from the military have taken a keen interest in the potential of this particular virus. But I do not think they have formulated an immediate use for it. More that they just recognize the potential.

Most interesting.

Also, we never notified WHO about this SARS-like condition when the miners got sick.

Excellent! It cannot be traced.

And most Western governments are asleep. Their leaders are too afraid of losing office to do unpopular things. Responding to the spread of such an agent, and locking their societies down, they would likely lose the next election. It might even accelerate the calling of elections. This would provide us with a further opportunity, to support candidates of our choice.

So, with a timely release of this agent, which would produce conditions of chaos, it would be easier to reorganize these countries on Chinese principles?

Yes, yes. Chen nodded vigorously. In fact, the people in what would then be the former democracies would end up welcoming our methods.

Yang stared at his colleague. Find out more. We can discuss this at our next meeting. Then he strode off, leaving Chen staring after him.

Chapter Two. Bangkok, November 2018

It was the bars, the lights and the incessant pulsing of human activity that drew Li Tang Bao to Patpong, any time he came to Bangkok. Not that he did so often, today was only the fifth time in the last three years. But, if any of his prudish colleagues back in Wuhan, China had asked, he’d have said he