When the Killing Starts (The Blackwell Files Book 8)

by Steven F Freeman

  “I think so. Yes, it’s a long shot, but I don’t have any other avenues to pursue. I’ve uncovered all the secrets the infected thumb drive is going to reveal. But I will need some help.” He turned to Sergeant Chegal. “Since your commander is busy deploying troops to Olchin, why don’t you give me a hand?”

  Nang nodded once and strode away to continue his work on reinforcing the power plant’s security.

  “What do you need me to do?” asked Chegal.

  “Camron provided some key intel last night. He told me Kim sends out regular propaganda messages to his armed forces. Does the NIS intercept these messages?”

  “Of course,” replied Chegal with a grin.

  “Can you send me a couple of them?”

  “Sure, but…why?”

  “I’m going to use them to construct a classic phishing technique. I’ll explain more once I see the format of Kim’s messages.”

  Twenty minutes later, Alton called together everyone but Nang, who had not yet returned from his task of strengthening Olchin’s security.

  Alton pointed to an e-mail message displayed on his screen. A bold, red banner framing gold characters topped a message composed in Korean script. “Kim’s propagandists use a pretty standard format for their messages: two or three paragraphs of rah-rah, followed by ‘required reading’ links—basically, more propaganda on the topic du jour. Kim’s servers take note of who clicks on the links, so the recipients know they had better get clicking when they get these e-mails, or the authorities might question their patriotism.”

  “The links,” said Mallory. “That’s what you’re going to use as your attack vector.”

  “Exactly,” said Alton. “We send out our own propaganda message to the same distribution list as the real messages. The body of the message will be the usual rhetoric, the same stuff they’re used to reading. But when they click on the link, it’ll go to our website, not Kim’s.”

  “Won’t they notice it’s not the same one?” asked Camron.

  “They shouldn’t. It’s easy enough to dummy up a website that looks like their official one. And according to Sergeant Chegal, the Northerners get one or two of these propaganda messages per day. They won’t think twice about opening them, and I doubt they’ll give the website appearance much scrutiny. As long as it looks like what they’re used to, they’re unlikely to look harder.”

  “So once they click on the link and open your dummied-up site, then what?”

  Alton produced a tight-lipped smile. “While the recipients are reading our message, we’ll be loading keystroke-logging and communications software onto their machines. My software will send back the user IDs and passwords for any databases they use from that moment on. My message’s distribution list will have thousands of names. With all those recipients, we should have access to most military databases by nightfall.” He leaned back in his chair. “And then, we conduct our own data hunt.”

  CHAPTER 23

  Three hours later, Nang returned from his security mission, dropped into a seat in the Olympic-security command center, and rubbed frozen hands together.

  “How goes it?” Alton asked him.

  “I’ve spent the last few hours visiting three local commanders. They had no one to spare.”

  “Great,” said David, shaking his head.

  “It’s not all bad news, though,” said Nang. “I eventually managed to round up four squads of soldiers. The only problem is they’re coming from Wolsong, far to the south. That’s why they were available.”

  “How soon before they arrive at Olchin?” asked Alton.

  “Not for a few more hours—at least two, maybe three, depending on road conditions.” He peered at Alton’s laptop. “Have you made any more discoveries?”

  “Yes, a lot, actually. With Chegal and Ru’s help, I’ve accessed a half-dozen North Korean military servers. David helped me sift through all the information to find the intel we needed. We don’t have all the details, but we’ve confirmed that Kim’s forces did launch a specials ops force, something comparable to our Navy SEALS. They’re here in the South and plan on returning to North Korea tomorrow night or the next, but the nature of their covert op is unclear. All mission descriptions are clouded in code words.”

  Nang began to pace the room. “The Northerners have been trying for years to get their hands on weapons-grade uranium. That has to be the purpose of their mission.”

  “What about the Olympics?” asked Camron.

  “What about them?” said David. “Yeah, maybe Kim will attack one of the venues. But if I’m North Korea, I know my enemy’s troops will be concentrated around the venues. I’d view it as the perfect chance to launch a covert op to cross a thinly-guarded border and attack a target—in this case, a nuclear power plant—that normally has too much security and too many enemy soldiers to allow me to return home with my booty.”

  “Speaking of borders,” said Alton, “that might be our opportunity to intercept. If the Northerners launch against Olchin to acquire uranium, they’ll need to cross the border on the way back home. Even with our security forces concentrating on the Olympics, that return trip is going to be tough, now that we know they’re here.” He turned to Nang. “Do you have any idea where they might try to cross?”

  The Captain nodded. “Yes. The eastern side of Gangwon Province, probably near the Seoraksan Mountains. The tracks spotted by satellite lie due south of there. The valleys in that area are heavily wooded at low altitudes, and covert troops could skirt around the mountains without having to climb them. It must be where they entered. Camouflaged soldiers would be hard to spot, especially at night.”

  “Why soldiers?” asked Camron.

  “Who else would have the skills to conduct a covert op hundreds of kilometers into enemy territory? And make no mistake about it,” continued Nang, “this is enemy territory for them. The Korean Armistice Agreement ended the fighting, but it didn’t end the war. North Korea has had its grandstanding moments, but even for them, an attack of this nature would be different. An armed incursion into my country would violate the terms of the armistice and authorize us and the U.N. to engage in a new round of fighting.”

  Gravity tugged on Alton’s stomach. “A new round of fighting. What you really mean is a second Korean war.”

  CHAPTER 24

  Camron began to object. “Technically—”

  “Yeah, I know,” said Alton, raising a placating palm. “Like Captain Nang said, the first Korean War officially never ended. But for practical purposes, it’s been over for decades. The Koreas have settled into the role of hostile neighbors. But this would be different—a full-scale war could break out.” He turned to Nang. “I’ve learned all I can here. It’s time to take a more active role in preventing Kim’s forces from obtaining the uranium. We need to deploy.”

  “Agreed,” said Nang, “but we also need to be thoughtful in our approach. Between my reinforcements and the on-site staff, Olchin will have a full company guarding it, about a hundred and twenty men. The Northerners’ team will have a hard time penetrating it now. But perhaps our team might act as a failsafe in case they do manage to get their hands on the uranium.”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “We just discussed where they’re likely to re-cross the border. And you said they’ll be crossing in the next two nights. I say we go there now and arrange a meet-and-greet at the Seoraksan Pass. It’s the easiest way to navigate through the mountains in that area. That has to be their escape route.”

  “I like it,” said Alton. He grinned. “When do we leave?”

  The team members worked together to load two armored military SUVs with the tactical gear they had brought from Seoul: K2 rifles and ammo, night vision goggles, body armor, communications equipment, and several varieties of grenades. The sounds of rattling gear and footsteps crunching through the snow echoed in the spacious compound.

  O’Neil seemed to take an interest in watching Silva lug a handheld case of K2 ammunition into
the armed transport.

  Alton leaned in the man’s direction. “You two know each other before this mission?”

  “Naw,” said O’Neil. “Why do you ask?”

  “How do I put this?” Alton recognized the look in O’Neil’s eyes. Admiration, respect…and perhaps something more? Not that Alton blamed him. The Latina was a looker, no doubt. She would have caught Alton’s eye had he not found all he wanted in Mallory. “I’d advise you to tread carefully. Silva and I worked a mission together a few months ago. Calling her skeptical about guys’…um…romantic motives would be putting it mildly.”

  “I can understand that,” said O’Neil, watching the object of their conversation pick up another ammo can and head back in their direction. “She’s probably had guys hit on her for years.”

  “That’s the impression I got.”

  O’Neil sighed. “It’s funny. Yeah, she’s pretty, but that’s not what caught my eye. It’s like…how she approaches the job. Super-professional, not taking any crap. There’s excitement in her eyes.”

  “I know exactly what you mean. That’s how I felt when I first got to know Mallory.”

  Silva passed by the two men on her way to the SUVs. Lost in thought, O’Neil neglected to drop his gaze from the soldier’s lithe form.

  “Take a picture, O’Neil,” snapped Silva. “It’ll last longer.”

  “What? I wasn’t—”

  “Dude, I saw you. You might need to wipe your chin.”

  “That’s not…” began O’Neil before stopping himself. He countenance grew dark. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. We have a job to do. Let’s just get it done.” He yanked a crate of grenades off the floor and set off for the vehicles at a brisk pace.

  CHAPTER 25

  Lieutenant Pi directed his Special Forces soldiers to park their snow-equipped motorcycles behind a dense grove of snow-covered evergreens, well away from the Olchin site. He couldn’t risk alerting the nuclear facility’s guards by approaching too close. Besides audacity, this mission relied on stealth more than anything.

  Sergeant Mangjol, Pi’s right-hand man, approached. “Now?”

  “No. Wait ‘til we’re closer.”

  The squat soldier nodded. He turned to his men and gave a hand signal.

  In silence, the troops dismounted their bikes and shouldered heavy backpacks that, like their winter uniforms, were colored entirely in white.

  Pi led his squad of twenty-four soldiers through the dense woods. With the enforced blackout, he kept his hand in front of his face to ward off constant encounters with low-hanging branches.

  Checking his compass now and then, he traced a path towards the fence behind the facility’s four-story parking deck. While still fifty meters away from the structure, he turned to Mangjol. “Now.”

  Pi and his sergeant removed their backpacks and white-camouflaged suits, revealing the dress uniforms and spit-shined boots of South Korean Army officers.

  Signaling to the men to wait, the two pushed through the undergrowth and arrived at the parking deck’s back gate, where the janitor waited for them. A lit cigarette dangled from his lips as he leaned against the locked gate.

  Pi forced a jovial smile. “Ah, Honorable Ryong. Thank you for agreeing to my request.”

  The janitor unlocked the door and leaned close, revealing the pungent tang of Jinro soju, a potent alcoholic drink, on his breath. “You were quite persuasive, my friend. And so was your promise of money,” he added with a leer.

  “Indeed.”

  “Speaking of that…?” Ryong held out his palm.

  “Yes, let us take care of that business,” said Pi, withdrawing his wallet from a hip pocket. “You said five hundred, right?”

  The janitor nodded, prompting Pi to hand over a stack of bills.

  Ryong grinned and began to count the wad of cash. “You know, you’re crazy for paying so much. We’ve had a good fifty or sixty soldiers show up today, free of charge. Why didn’t you just—”

  The suppressor on Mangjol’s K5 pistol sighed as he fired a pair of 9mm rounds into the janitor’s forehead. Ryong slumped to the ground. His cratered head tipped to the side, and a trickle of blood flowed across the deck’s white concrete surface.

  Pi reached down and removed his money from the dead man’s hand. He needed two minutes of digging through the man’s pockets before discovering his magnetic security card. Pi nodded in satisfaction and pocketed the card.

  He and Mangjol lifted the bloody corpse and lugged it back into the frozen woods, far from the watchful eyes of perimeter patrols.

  “Careful,” grunted Pi. “Don’t get blood on your uniform. We have to blend in.”

  Ten minutes later, Pi returned with his entire squad, all sporting standard South Korean Army uniforms and armament. They filed through the parking-deck gate and wound their way through a maze of cars. After traversing another, older parking lot, they reached the secured back door of the plant itself.

  Show time. Holding his breath, Pi slid the pilfered card through the magnetized door’s security-card reader.

  The slab of steel popped open, and the lieutenant led his men inside.

  Pi smiled. Today’s influx of troops to the site helped his subterfuge. Who would question the presence of another squad of unfamiliar soldiers marching through the halls? The key to selling this deception was having the self-confidence to act like you belonged here. Not a problem for him and his men.

  He led the troops down a stark, white hallway illuminated with rows of florescent lights. Having studied the layout of this building for months, he wound his way through a series of hallways with unerring accuracy.

  At last, he reached the objective: a heavily guarded room lying in the core of the massive complex. In the center of the room, submerged in a vast cooling pool, lay scores of uranium rods—enough to power a city…or destroy it.

  CHAPTER 26

  Ensconced inside the Santa Fe an hour later, Silva’s anger seemed to have cooled. She chuckled as O’Neil tipped sideways after a particularly wicked bump. Alton breathed a silent sigh of relief. He didn’t need the additional responsibility of refereeing feuding teammates.

  Pushing himself up, O’Neil produced a hangdog grin. “I knew I should have used the seat belt.”

  “That’s what you get for being lost in thought,” said Silva. Her expression softened. “That’s what you were doing earlier, wasn’t it?”

  O’Neil cast his gaze to the vehicle’s steel floorboard. “Yeah, I know it looked bad, but—”

  “Don’t’ worry. I get it. You’ve been staring off into space every ten minutes,” said Silva. She studied the man. “What’s so important that it’s making you space out all the time?”

  “My kids—Katie and Sam. The ones I mentioned on the flight over here.”

  “Are they in danger?”

  O’Neil shook his head. “Naw, nothing like that. They’re with Cathy, my sister. It’s just…Katie’s been nagging me about these missions, asking what’ll happen to her and her brother if something bad happens to me out here.”

  “Seems like a good question,” said Silva. “Maybe it’s not a possibility you want to consider, but couldn’t their mom look after them?”

  O’Neil hesitated before answering. During the ensuring silence, the SUV bounced hard off a rut. Finally, he spoke. “Becca—my wife—died three years ago. It’s just me and the kids now.”

  “So Katie has a point. She and Sam would be up the creek without you.”

  “Yeah. That’s why I worry.”

  “Well, the best way to get back to them in one piece is to keep your head in the game. You’ll have to, now that we’re in the field.”

  O’Neil stretched his back. The Hyundai took a hard right, but this time he held on. He buckled his seatbelt. “You’re right. To be honest, I’ve been feeling like a fifth wheel on this mission so far. If it weren’t for the kids, I’d actually be kind of glad to finally get a chance to mix it up.”

  Silva grinned. “I
know just what you mean.”

  As the two-vehicle convoy traveled northeast, the terrain transformed from lightly dusted, rolling hills to mountainous spires of snow-covered granite soaring high into the sky. The wind grew from a steady breeze to powerful gusts moaning against the vehicles’ steel plating.

  The SUVs plunged onto an unpaved pass at the foot of the Seoraksan Mountains. For over an hour, they followed a narrow track winding through the towering range.

  At Nang’s signal, the vehicles ground to a halt at the edge of a meadow in the midst of a thick forest. Thick snow blanketed the entire landscape.

  The team members climbed from the vehicles. After riding in the bumpy SUVs for hours, the ground itself seemed to be vibrating.

  Alton looked around, trying to clear his head of the illusory motion. Gusts of wind pulled away steam rising from both the SUVs’ exhaust pipes and the throats of team members. Diesel fumes mixed with the valley’s natural evergreen scent, producing an odd mixture of aromas.

  David surveyed the landscape in a long, left-to-right sweep, then turned to Nang. “How do you know this is where the North Koreans will cross the border?”

  “I don’t…not for sure,” replied Nang. “But few locations are so inaccessible. It renders this spot ideal for a clandestine passage. We’ve always been worried about it.”

  “You got the inaccessible part right,” said David, twisting the kinks out of his back. “A few more trips like that, and I’ll have to put my chiropractor on retainer.”

  “Captain Nang,” said Alton, surveying the horizon, “is there a particular spot we should focus on?”

  Nang furrowed his brows in concentration. “Anywhere along the northern edge of this forest would be well-camouflaged. I don’t think one location is better than another.”

  “Meaning we’ll have to spread out to cover all of it, right?” said Alton.