KI-Moon placed the coffee mug on the table and studied the map intently. The major ran a thin finger across Scottsdale Arizona, the last known location of their target. Shaking his head, he took another sip of the coffee and glanced over at Lieutenant Pak, who sat behind a bank of computer screens, busy chewing on a Snickers bar.
Evading the infected, KI-Moon's small group of soldiers had been able to salvage more than enough of the American’s edible treats.
The major had found he’d gained at least ten pounds since they’d successfully infiltrated the United States. His fake UN uniform was starting to show his and the other’s weight gain.
“Sir,” The junior officer dropped the half-eaten candy bar onto the table and wiped his hands on his fatigue pants. “We have movement in one of the safe houses.”
“Which one?” The Major set the coffee mug down and stood up.
“H-6. Peach Springs Arizona.” Pak replied as he glanced at the screen in front of him. “Looks like it has been activated.”
“You have a camera link?” KI-Moon walked over behind where the Lieutenant sat and leaned over his shoulder.
“Yes.” Pak nodded. “Once power to H-6 is activated we will have camera access.” “How long.”
“A minute or two sir.”
“Good.” The Major looked over at Captain Sang, who sat behind another console. “Captain, do we have any units close to H-6?”
“Yes sir.” The other officer glanced down at his monitor. “Lieutenant Park’s patrol. Two armored vehicles, sir.”
“Contact Park and have him immediately respond.” “Sir.” Sang nodded.
KI-Moon scanned the rest of the small interior of the buildings command and control center. Two more Lieutenants, Kim and Bam, sat behind banks of computer monitors watching and gathering intel for the invading foreign armies.
Several other command and control centers, similar to the Majors, had been set up throughout Northern California and Oregon. Using the cover of the treacherous UN, the North Koreans had been able to sneak right in.
“I have the camera for H-6 functioning, sir.” Pak glanced up at the Major. “Good.” KI-Moon nodded. “Send the feed to me.”
“Sir.”
The Major walked back over to his desk and sat down. He flipped open his laptop and punched in his security code. On the small screen appeared the brightly lit interior of one of their safe houses.
The senior officer took another drink from his coffee mug as he watched a wiry Caucasian man, armed with a pistol, cautiously searching through the inside of the building.
The Major couldn’t get a good look at his face as the man seemed to unintentionally avoid facing the safe houses hidden cameras.
KI-Moon cursed and set the mug down heavily in front of him.
“Come on! Let’s see your stupid face!” He mumbled to himself. Eventually the man turned and faced one of the hidden cameras.
KI-Moon leaned forward in his chair and chuckled, jabbing a thin finger at the screen. “I have you, American dog!” The Major pressed a key on his computer and froze the man’s face on his screen.
“Pak! Bring me the photograph of the American we’re looking for.”
“Major.” The Lieutenant hurried over to the commanding officer’s desk with a piece of paper in his hand. KI-Moon promptly ripped it from Pak’s hand, quickly comparing the photograph on the paper to the face on the screen.
“That is one of them!” The Major shouted a little too excitedly, “one of the special ones too.” Still not believing his good fortune he glanced back down at the photo “We finally have him! Captain Sang, have Lieutenant Park’s patrol immediately respond to H-6.”
“Sir,” The Captain dropped his headphones to his shoulders. “the Lieutenant’s patrol isn’t responding.”
“Damnit!” KI-Moon slammed his fist on the desktop causing the other men to look over in their commander’s direction. The Major knew remnants of the American Air Forces were still highly active in that area. More than likely they had been discovered by them and eliminated. “Find me the nearest patrol then. We need to intercept the target before they leave. For some damned reason the tracker that was implemented in the American’s system isn’t working.”
“Sir,” Pak, who was still standing next to the Major, meekly interjected. “We do have another means of tracking him.”
KI-Moon frowned at the young technician, surprised he was still posted up by his desk. Crossing his arms, the Major turned to face the nervous Lieutenant.
“Well, what is it?”
“The equipment cases,” Pak cleared his throat. “some of them have trackers inside. The moment the cases are removed from inside they’ll be automatically activated.”
“Which cases?” The Major asked.
“I don’t know, Major.” Pak stuttered. “That’s the issue, sir. They might not grab one that’s marked.”
“Fuck.” The senior officer pursed his lips. “I guess something is better than nothing. We can hope they grab the right case. Very good Pak. You can go back to your station and your candy bars.”
“Major.” Pak gave him a quick bow, a little relieved that he hadn’t fallen prey to his commanders foul temper, and hurried back to his console.
“Sang, any word on a patrol?”
“Major, there is a four-man patrol about five hours away. I have them responding to H-6. Should I also notify Command?”
“No. Not yet. Let us see if we can resolve this without Command’s interference.” KI-Moon stared down at the paused face of the American on his screen. The excitement of finding their target was quickly turning into a disappointment. Maybe they would get fortunate and their target would grab up a case with a tracking device inside. That was a lot to hope for, but lately luck had favored KI-Moon and his soldiers.
Taking another sip of coffee, he was sure Commander LI might even reward him for the capture with a promotion and maybe even his own area to command.
Chapter Ten
VODKA AND BAD DECISIONS
Nugget Casino Rooftop, Reno, NV
“Now!” A voice barked a command over Roman’s radio. Both snipers focused on the targets in their optics and simultaneously fired. The snipers readjusted and swiftly acquired their second group of targets and once again opened fire. Satisfied the four soldiers were down, Roman pressed the talk button on his radio.
“Clear.”
“We’re rolling. Get down now!” The voice on the radio replied.
“Baz!” Roman clipped the radio onto his belt and quickly began breaking down his rifle, shoving it in his bag. The Russian was busy already doing the same. He secured the heavy Mosin Nagant in his rifle bag then grabbed his parachute and quickly strapped it. Once his chute was secure, he shrugged the rifle bag tightly across his chest.
“Ready, Roman.”
“Gimme a second Baz.” Roman secured his parachute, slung his rifle bag in front of him, then sped over to the other side of the rooftop. Pulling a small air horn from his pack, he pressed the on button causing it to emit a loud screeching noise. Quickly wrapping a piece of duct tape around the button, he tossed the air horn over and away from the casino. The crowd of infected below suddenly became focused on the noise and stumbled off looking for its source.
“Good job Roman.” The Russian said as he scanned the landing area below them. “Those nasty fuckers are going for it.”
“Cool, cool, cool.” Roman glanced over the side of the building, making sure their landing zone was clear of infected. “I guess it’s time to fly, amigo. Let the fun and games begin.”
“I don’t know why you think jumping off a perfectly good building is fun and games, Roman.” “Because it is fun, Baz.” The former paratrooper chuckled as he walked over to the Russian and checked out his parachute. “You know I used to be six foot before I started jumping out of planes.” He said yanking a strap tightly, then he gave Baz a reassuring fist bump on the taller man’s shoulder.
“That is not helping any, Roman
.” The six-foot-three-inch Baz towered over Roman, who was at best 5 '7. “It does not, how you say, inspire confidence my friend.”
“Look, your life can’t be all vodka and bad decisions.”
“Yes, yes it can.” The Russian quickly bobbed his head up and down. “Jumping off this casino is a bad decision.”
“Well,” Roman smiled and spread his arms open wide. “Feel free to run your commie ass down those twenty-nine flights of stairs. I’m sure Reese will be more than happy to wait for you to show up at the rally point.”
“Bah, Reese...” Baz shook his head. “Okay,” He reached into his tac vest and pulled a travel size bottle of vodka from inside pocket and quickly popped off the top. “this qualifies as a bad decision.” He downed the tiny bottle in one swallow then tossed it over his shoulder. “Let us go have... fun.”
“My man.” Roman patted him on the back then led the Russian to the edge of the casino tower. The ex-paratrooper climbed up to the ledge followed by Baz. “Remember, as soon as you dive pull the red handle. The chute will do the rest, there’s nothing to crash into but the ground.”
“Da.” Baz nervously nodded as he wiped his mouth with the back of his gloved hand. The shot of vodka helped him from hyperventilating, but it didn’t keep his knees from shaking. Even though Roman had demonstrated to him several times how this would go he was still extremely nervous about leaping off the casino roof. Fully expecting his partner to jump first, Baz was to his immediate and sudden horror, surprised when Roman suddenly gave him a hard shove over the buildings edge. To the shorter mercenary, it was the only way to teach someone. He remembered when his father had taught him to swim, he just tossed Roman in the river and hoped he didn’t drown. Years later, when Roman tried to teach his dog to swim using the same technique, his father got pissed and yanked the puppy from the river saying, “Why would you do that to a dog?” Roman could never figure the man out.
“Come on Baz.” Roman said to himself as he watched the bigger man plunge straight downward. “Pull it!”
To his utter surprise, the Russian continued to drop toward the ground. Frozen in the fear of being pushed from the rooftop, Baz’s mind didn’t even think to tell him to pull the ripcord on his chute, it just told him he was falling.
“Pull the cord!” Roman screamed. “Pull the fucking cord!” It was too late, the Russian dropped like a brick to the asphalt road below. The big man bounced a couple of times then exploded like a rotten tomato, all over Nugget Boulevard. “Oh, fuck.”
Chapter Eleven
EAT A DICK
NK, Observation Post Sparks, NV
Major Ban KI-Moon was deep in thought, trying to figure out how to best capture the high value American target, when the front door of the observation post exploded inward. The North Korean officer instantly dove beneath his desk as automatic gunfire erupted all around him. As bullets crashed into his soldiers and tracking equipment,
KI-Moon tried to make himself as small a target as possible while giving himself enough time to clumsily pull the Skorpion machine pistol from his right hip, the Major ignored the wounded screams of his men. Several rounds smashed into the wooden desk causing a big splinter to slash the right side of his face.
KI-Moon grabbed at the bloody gash in his cheek and crawled away from underneath the bullet riddled desk. Before the commander could get into any kind of firing position, the one-sided gunfight had stopped and there was only the deadly silence and constant ringing in his ears. “Don’t move chief!” A gruff voice commanded him in English. “Drop the pistol to the floor and raise your hands over your head, comprende’?”
KI-Moon glanced up to see two men in black tactical gear pointing the familiar shape of AR-15 rifles in his face. Staring down the warm barrels, KI-Moon felt true terror. He had no doubt that the two men in black would shoot him down where he knelt if he didn’t comply with their orders.
The frightened Major carefully set the Skorpion down next to him as one of the rifle toting men stepped forward, bent down, and quickly scooped up the machine pistol then backed away out of the Korean soldiers reach.
“Good boy.” The gruff voice said from behind KI-Moon. The Major thought it had been one of the two men in black that had addressed him, now he realized, ears ringing, another man was standing behind him. “Just keep your eyes forward General. How do we look Dutch?”
“Got another one over here.” A big bearded man in a backwards baseball cap grunted as he drug the wounded Captain Sang from underneath a table. “The rest are all goners.” The man spit some chew onto the shivering soldier's chest.
“Alright, zip tie these two fucks then spread out and see what we have here.” The voice from behind continued. “Zap, go out and help Webb secure the outside. Roman and Baz should be along shortly.”
“On it.” A wiry man dressed in UN cammies and carrying a green camouflage painted M4 nodded and headed back out through the damaged entranceway.
“Shove these two over in that corner and keep an eye on them.” The voice said as one of the black kitted men roughly zip tied the Korean soldier’s hands behind their backs. “Imma have a quick look around then we’ll do a nice long Q and A with our new UN buddies.”
“American dogs!” KI-Moon cursed in his native Korean as one of the men jerked the Major to his feet and pushed him over to where Captain Sang, quietly moaning in pain from a bullet wound to the left shoulder, sat hunched in the corner. “I will cut out your tongues and make you eat them!” KI-Moon angrily continued to rattle off in Korean. The escorting man checked him hard with his shoulder then shoved him down into the corner next to the injured Sang.
“Now, now.” KI-Moon finally saw the man that belonged to the voice. Reese was the size of an NFL linebacker, wearing green camouflage pants and a tac vest over a shirt that said EAT A DICK. In his right hand he held a big Springfield 1911. With his left hand he pushed back his sweat stained camouflage cowboy hat and chuckled. “Don’t go freakin out on us, you cooperate and we won’t kill you. Plain and simple. You want to live, you give us what we want.” The big man shrugged. “Like I said, Imma have a look around, check things out, then we will have us a little sit down. I’ll give you and your side kick a few minutes to think about it.”
“Fuck you!” Captain Sang growled back. Reese snapped his fingers and one of the other men slammed a fist into the Koreans nose. Blood exploded across Sang and KI-Moons faces.
“I told you, don’t go freakin out on us.” The big man smirked and then casually said to the man who had just struck Sang. “Next outburst, stick a blade in his wound.”
“Too bad there are no women here.” The heavily tattooed Russian, Foz, grinned.
“It is a good thing.” Reese gave him a tight smile then turned back to the interior of the bullet riddled observation post. “Hopefully we’ll find something worth all this trouble.”
Chapter Twelve
MEALS REFUSING TO EXIT
Peach Springs, AZ
“This isn’t too bad.” Ram said as he sat on a pelican case full of M4’s digging a spoon into a warm MRE pouch. “Or maybe it’s because I haven’t had solid food on a regular basis.” “Probably both.” Jesse grinned as she tore open a pack of crackers then, using her small Kershaw knife, spread some jalapeno cheese across them. “Knowing you, I’m surprised you didn’t eat the cake first.”
“I do love cake.” Ram said with a mouthful of Chili Mac as he eyed the package of pound cake. “These damn things have come a long way since I was in. I think we had a dozen shitty meals to pick from. Thank God I only had to eat them a couple times during deployments. This stuff is good, I mean I wouldn’t want to be eating it every day. But-”
“It’s the hunger talking Ram. Believe me. Next week you will be sick of them. Trust me. You want nasty? Just pop open one of those Shrimp Jambalaya packs.”
“I’ll trust your judgement Jesse.” Ram dug the long MRE spoon into the package. “When we load this stuff up, you can pick what we take.”
“Gee, thanks Ram. That means I get to do the loading too then... great.” Jesse said sarcastically as she took a bite of the cracker then glanced around the room that was filled with cases and boxes. “Like I said earlier, maybe we should stay here a bit. Hot coffee and hot showers.”
“Jesse-”
“Seriously, Ram.” She leaned forward on the big pelican case she was sitting on. “ Just hear me out. We have been running for a long time, surviving on whatever we can find. Hell, you’re over there singing the praises of a pouch of Meals Refusing to Exit.” She carefully set the knife and crackers onto the top of the case. “We have everything we need right here. I mean, showers. Weapons. Food. Even power. Ram, maybe we should stay here a while.”
“Jesse-”
“When was the last time you felt really safe anywhere?” She crossed her tanned, sinewy arms in front of her. Ram could see the Rosary she’d found in an abandoned church wrapped tightly around her right wrist. Jesse had told Ram before she had got lost in the Foster system she was raised Catholic. He scratched his goatee and figured she’d recently once again found some faith in this screwed up world. “This place is like a mini fortress. I mean, we can actually get a good night's sleep without one of us standing guard.”
“Don’t get me wrong, Jesse. This place is like a damn oasis in the middle of a sea of shit. Somebody set this place up and I’m sure whomever it is at some point will be by to collect.”
He dropped the half-eaten pouch down next to him. “I appreciate you coming along with me Jesse, I really do. You could have gone off with Ian and his merry band of mercenaries but instead, you stuck with me. God knows why you did and I’m indebted to you far more than you know. Hell, if it wasn’t for you I’d be dead or a blood tap in some shady clinic.”
Five Roads To Texas (Book 10): Salvation Page 4
