The Chinese Heist

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic
Counter-terrorism operative Matthew Dodd is sent to China by the president to recover an important doctor from the hands of a professional hit man.

Submitted: November 27, 2010

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Submitted: November 27, 2010



The Chinese Heist

It was about 7:00 A.M. and Dr. Morwen Muller was concentrating on his work. He had left on a plane from Washington D.C. to Beijing, China twelve hours earlier to study an old Chinese graveyard. The flight had only taken about six hours, but he had spent the past five hours getting ready for his work. His assistant, Ming Yao, ran into the building. “Fire!” He yelled. “Take the fire exit down to level A” Dr. Muller said frantically as the glass started shattering around them. There was a gunshot as Ming Yao dropped to the ground. Dr. Muller rushed past the corpse to the fire exit. Another gunshot fired and Dr. Muller fell to the ground, still conscience. Then, he felt a sharp pain in his head and everything went black. *** Counter-Terrorism operative Matthew Dodd had converted to Christianity from being a Muslim. He was leaving work to go to a party with his friends when President Rick Hanson called him into the Oval Office. “I need to talk to you about something serious.” The president declared as he shut the door. “I believe you have heard of Dr. Morwen Muller,” the president half asked. “Yeah, you sent him to Beijing yesterday, what about him?” “He was kidnapped around 7:00 this morning,” the president grimly declared. “And his assistant, Ming Yao, was found dead at the scene. From the reports the Chinese sent me, I discovered that there was an explosion at the building. I think. But they agree that it was a terrorist. Whoever took him also took all of his information. They took all of his files, cell phone, camera, and his laptop. “I believe that there is something at that graveyard the terrorists don’t want us to see, or find out. So I’m going to send you and Tracy to Beijing first thing tomorrow.” Dodd nodded and left the room. He proceeded out of the White House to his vehicle, a black Ford Taurus, and merged onto the highway. His house was rather large. There was a faded red couch facing a mounted flat screen TV, a bookcase full of books, in the other room was a kitchen with an island and a staircase leading to his basement. Down in his basement was an impressive collection of cars, a red 1964 Ford Mustang, a red Ferrari 360 Spider, and his Black Taurus. His guns were even more impressive. He had a Desert Eagle pistol, an AK-47, an M-16, and almost any other gun you can imagine. His childhood friend Ryan Peece owned Orion Weapon Industries and annually sent him their newest weapons. He walked over to his desk, with papers, pencils and pistols, and pulled it back to reveal a hidden staircase that lead down to what he called “The Vault.” He began to descend the flight of stairs when the phone rang; he picked it up. “Hello?” He reluctantly said. “Hello Matthew,” came the reply. “Are you aware of us going to Beijing tomorrow morning?” it was his partner, Tracy Harvath. “Yes, the president told me personally,” Dodd half bragged. “I was getting ready when you called. Do you know the whole story?” “No, I was just told as much as I told you, would you mind relating it?” “Not at all,” Matthew said. “From what I’ve heard, Dr. Morwen Muller was kidnapped, and his assistant, Ming Yao, was found dead, shot in the head at the crime scene. “Also, the building went up in flames when it got shot with a missile.” “Sounds like a terrorist attack to me.” Tracy said. “That’s exactly what the president said, and I agreed.” “Anything else you have to tell me?” Tracy asked. “No, not that I can think of.” There was a silence. “Well I guess we should start packing for the trip tomorrow.” Tracy suggested. “Goodnight.” “Goodnight, Matthew.” Dodd hung up the phone and walked down the flight of stairs. He entered the code to turn off the motion sensors and walked into the room. It had been quite a while since he had needed to use these guns, his special guns. He looked at one of his favorites, and his most powerful, his RPG. His all time favorite gun was his P-37 tactical rifle. This one was made by a gun shop owner in Dallas, Texas who specialized in making guns. Dodd noticed something different about the guns. It had taken him a while to notice this, his guns were dirty. He reached onto a shelf and grabbed a cloth to clean them with. He carefully cleaned each gun and put it back on the shelf. It’s too quiet, he thought to himself. He whirled around in his chair and turned on the radio to “Three Little Birds” by Bob Marley. He sat in the chair for about an hour and a half joyfully cleaning his guns. When he finished he put some of his guns into a brown duffle bag and walked up the stairs. *** Dodd woke up the next morning with the sun tearing through his curtains. He got out of bed, took a shower, brushed his teeth, put on clothes and walked out the door. He got into his Ford, Taurus with a muffin in his mouth and drove to Ronald Reagan National Airport. Dodd met up with Tracy, and together they boarded the plane to China. *** Scott Rasmussen was sitting in his cheap Chinese apartment. He was trying to ignore Dr. Muller, who was drugged and sitting on the couch next to him. I’m gonna wake up in a warm bed, all of this is a dream,” the doctor kept telling himself. “You can think whatever you want.” Scott said to the doctor as he shoved a gag into his mouth. The phone rang on the other side of the room, Scott hesitated because he knew who it was. He answered it anyways. “Do you have Dr. Muller in your custody?” It was his Arabian boss, a terrorist named Majd-Al-Din. “Yes, the security was the worst. I just walked up the stairs and,” “I don’t care how you did it, I just want the satisfactory of knowing you have him. Bring him to me by next Tuesday.” The line went dead. Scott heard Dr. Muller start screaming for help on the other side of the room. Irritated, Scott walked over to him and knocked him unconscious with the butt of his rifle. Out of the corner of his eye he saw what the doctor was screaming about. *** Matthew Dodd stepped off the plane. Tracy Harvath got off behind him. “I’ve always been interested to come to China.” Dodd Exclaimed. “I want to go to Hawaii.” Dodd saw a twinkle in her eyes. “What that?” Tracy asked, looking at a 5-story motel. *** Scott Rasmussen set up his sniper in the window and started taking down the police. 1-2-3 he counted in his head as he took down the police. 21-22-23 he paused, like lightning, he pulled out his suppressed pistol and shot at the police through the door. 24-25-26 he thought out loud. He whirled around to hear something he really didn’t expect. Dumb Chinese, wasting a helicopter for one man, he thought. With his muscular arms, he threw a grenade at the helicopter. Scott ran down the stairs, and to his car *** The fighting stopped by the time Matthew Dodd and Tracy Harvath arrived at the scene. “I would say maybe fifty casualties,” Dodd said, studying the crime scene. “Fifty-seven.” Said a Chinese officer. “My name is Tin Yao, Ming Yao was my brother.” He said, looking rather gloomy. “I’m sorry for your loss,” Dodd said, trying to comfort him. He noticed a helicopter burning on the ground. “I was told you would be coming,” Tin Yao stated. “Someone was shooting the other police officers from the window with a sniper. Eye witnesses say he threw a grenade into a helicopter.” Dodd’s eyes returned to the helicopter he had been looking at a moment before. “I’ll relate the rest to you at headquarters.” They all climbed into Tin Yao’s police cruiser as they drove off to the Beijing Police Headquarters. HQ was smaller than Dodd had expected, but it was a respectable size. There were a few unoccupied police cruisers, some in the garage, and the rest littering the driveway. There was a helipad on the top with two helicopters. The pilots were standing on the pad merrily drinking coffee and laughing. “This way,” Tin Yao instructed, climbing out of the car. They had parked on the drive way, adding to the unorganized police cruisers. They walked through the front door and Dodd instantly noticed how neat it was. It was very dark, the only light was from the green computer monitors. They sat down at an empty table, Tin Yao pulled out a soda from a mini fridge. “You want one?” he asked Tracy and Dodd. “Sure, thank you,” Dodd said as he accepted the soda from Tin Yao’s hand. “So how much information do we have?” Tracy asked. “We know that after the shooting came to a stop, the person ran out of the building and into a black car.” “Do we know what kind of car it is?” Tracy asked Tin Yao. “A black Denali.” “Do we have the license plate number?” “Yes,” Tin Yao pulled out a big yellow notebook and started flipping through the pages. “Hmmm… Here it is,” He said after about 30 seconds. “X26YA3” They walked over to an unoccupied desktop computer and typed the license plate number into the machine. \"And there is is.\" Tin Yao put his arms to his side. \"It doesn't look like it's moving,\" Dodd observed. \"Let's check it out,\" Tracy concluded. Tin Yao jotted down a few notes, which included the car's location, and model. *** Scott Rasmussen was waiting in an abandoned part of China, inside an old store across the street from his car. The store's phone rang, causing him to jump. He picked it up, but didn't say anything. \"Hello, Scott,\" came the voice of his Muslim superior. How did you know where to call?\" Scott asked. This is no time for foolish question. Hurry up and get out a gun, moderate range \"We had found an ancient scroll containing a map to a library hidden deep within a Chinese tomb. After I flew here to Beijing, I was sitting at my desk, sorting out my work, when Ming Yao, my temporary assistant, came rushing into my office and alerted me to the fire. Almost immediately, there was a loud noise. Ming Yao was shot in the head and, following that, the glass started shattering and everything went black. When I woke up, I was in a Chinese apartment with someone, I believe he was my kidnapper\".

\"Do you remember what he looked like?\" Tracy asked.

\"Yes, he was approximately six feet, short, neat dark brown hair, light blue eyes, and very muscular.\"

\"Do you remember hearing his name at all, first, last, middle? Did anyone come to see him?\" Tracy continued to question Dr. Muller.

\"I overhead a phone call where someone addressed him as Scott.\"

\"Did you hear a last name?\"


\"Hey, do you guys hear that?\" Dodd asked.

\"Hear what?\"

\"It sounded like a crack. Hey, doctor, why is this part of China abandoned?\"

\"Well, as you may have heard, some parts of China have a major problem-\" the doctor stopped mid-sentence.

\"What is it?\" Dodd queried.

\"Gas leaks. Parts of China have poisonous gasses that frequently leak and threaten the population.\"

\"Could that be why this town is abandoned?\" Dodd sounded nervous. \"Could that be what's happening?\"

\"The chances of that happening are 17 to 1.\" The doctor sounded nervous too.

\"Do you guys smell that?\" Tracy had a disgusted look on her face.

\"Ugh, yeah, it smells terrible!\" Dodd exclaimed. He stopped walking as he realized what was happening. \"How long until we reach the next civilized town?\" His voice was shaking.

\"About one and a half miles, I would estimate.\"

\"Maybe we should start running.\"

\"Why?\" Tracy asked.

The doctor falling over answered her question.

\"Gas leak\" Dodd replied.


Tin Yao was hoping that his captor didn't notice him, but his hopes were dashed a moment later when he was pulling out his gun.

\"Drop it!\" Scott had his gun in his hand and he hadn't even turned around.

\"Who are you?\" Tin Yao asked.

\"I'm the one with the gun, and you're just baggage.\" Scott tried to push Tin Yao out of the car, but he resisted and punched Scott in the thigh. After a few more attempts, Scott finally got Tin Yao out of the car and drove away.

Tin Yao held up his prize.


Back at HQ, Matthew Dodd and Tracy Harvath had found a spot for the doctor to rest after he fainted back at the scene. They had tracked the car to a hotel on the outskirts of Beijing. They sent a search team to look for Tin Yao, but they were going to check out the hotel themselves.

\"Remember that this is a stealth operation, so you have to be very quiet.\" Dodd said.

Tracy laughed. \"I know, I've done this before, you don't have to be so worried.\"

\"Just making sure, Do you remember the plan?\"

\"Yes\" she answered as they pulled into the parking lot.

Dodd pulled out his pistol and shut the door of the car. \"Okay, remember the plan.\"

Tracy nodded.

Dodd walked into the back exit and started climbing the stairs.

After he reached the correct floor, he glanced at a piece of paper: Room 279.


Scott awoke to the sound of the door being kicked open. He launched himself out of bed and grabbed his pistol. He was searching the suite when he saw someone in a mirror. Scott turned around and pulled the trigger, barely missing the intruder's head.

\"I just want to talk\" the trespasser said, holding up his gun.

Scott pulled the trigger of his pistol and shot the gun out of the trespasser's hand. \"What's your name?\" Scott asked.


Scott tightened his grip on the trigger.

\"Matthew Dodd.\"

Scott sighed. Then he threw his gun out the window of the hotel room and ran out the door. Dodd ran after him.

After Dodd realized where they were going he got out his walkie-talkie. \"Tracy, I'm in pursuit, we're headed toward the graveyard.\" But just as he said that, Scott ran into what looked like an office building. \"Scratch that, track my cell phone, do not follow us into the building. I'm going in.\"

Dodd ran into the building, only to be stopped by two Muslim security guards. Across the room he saw a bigger Muslim guy talking with Scott. Dodd tried to turn around and run, but the guards stopped him. \"What's your name?\" Dodd yelled to the big man.

\"My name is Majd-Al-Din.\"

Dodd recognized the name. He was a terrorist on the FBI Most Wanted List. Dodd got out his walkie-talkie. \"Tracy, stay back, get the doctor to safety.\"

\"Matthew-\" Dodd turned the walkie-talkie off.

Dodd pulled his AK-47 from his brown duffel bag, which he had been carrying the whole time, and hit one of the guards in the face with the butt of the gun while shooting the other guard in the chest. He held up the gun to Majd-Al-Din, who was already aiming at him. Majd-Al-Din shot Dodd in the foot, causing him to fall forward.

Dodd took careful aim and shot Majd-Al-Din in the shoulder, then pulled out his pistol and noticed scientists running around the room looking at the computers. Then he saw what this was all about; a bomb.


He pulled out his walkie-talkie. \"Tracy.\" His voice sounded weak from the blood loss. \"There's a bomb.\"

Then he heard someone shout \"It's almost 12, sir, I'm starting the timer in exactly one minute.\"

That was the longest minute of Matthew Dodd's life. He had a flashback of his whole life. It felt like it lasted the whole 33 years, but it had only been about 30 seconds.

\"Good-bye Tracy.\" he said into the speaker. Before Tracy could reply, and before the button to start the timer got pressed, Dodd pulled the trigger of his gun, shooting Scott in the chest, where he had about 10 grenades. This blew up the whole first floor lobby.

Matthew Dodd sacrificed his life to save a country that he never knew.

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