When the Killing Starts (The Blackwell Files Book 8)

by Steven F Freeman

  “Great,” said Alton. “How long ‘til they arrive?”

  Camron shrugged. “Who knows? The order was to ‘proceed with all haste.’”

  Alton exhaled. “We have to hope Bravo Company moves before the new one arrives.”

  “What happens if they don’t?”

  It was Alton’s turn to shrug. “Then we’ll have to make the best of it—move forward as quickly and quietly as possible with the gap we have.”

  After ten minutes of tense waiting, North Korea’s Bravo Company finally began to move. Before the relief could sink in, a new cluster of blips appeared at the top of the sat.-phone screen—a unit approached, heading straight for the vacated gap in the line.

  “Shit,” said Alton, watching the simultaneous movements of the advancing and vacating troops. “This is going to be close.”

  He started up the vehicle and bounced it over the terrain toward the Northern border.

  Camron’s voice wavered. “Shouldn’t we wait until we see if there’s space for us to make it through?”

  “If we do that, it’ll be too late. We have to be ready to zip through that line as soon as the gap is wide enough.”

  “But what if the new troops arrive before then?”

  “That’s why I asked who wanted to go back to Seoul.” He handed the sat. phone to Mallory. “Okay, navigator, keep me on the best path.”

  “Will do,” she said, raising her legs and cradling the phone on her thighs.

  With his wife’s guidance, Alton made his way up the wintery slope, changing course regularly as she called out new routes that maximized their distance from the enemy troops.

  Too bad the vehicle had no stealth mode. The engine’s noises seemed abnormally loud. Even Camron’s cough elicited a chill of discovery, a fear of betraying their presence to the hundreds of enemy soldiers spread throughout the surrounding woods and meadows.

  “It’s official,” said Mallory. “We’re in North Korea now.”

  No one spoke. They all understood the implications of her announcement.

  Creeping at times, accelerating at others, Alton wound his way through the rough terrain, a lonely patrol boat among a flotilla of enemy battleships.

  “The advancing company is getting close,” warned Mallory a minute later, studying a downward-creeping mass of dots on the sat. phone’s infrared image. “They’re going to spot us if we don’t move out of their path soon.”

  “How far before we’re beyond the North Korean defensive line?” asked Alton.

  “We’re even with them now. But we have to move far enough past them where they won’t hear or see us when we move out of the path of the advancing troops.”

  “Agreed.” They bounced along in silence for a moment before Alton spoke. “Look, over to the left. Can we make it to that grove of trees before we’re within line of sight of the new company?”

  Mallory shook her head. “Hard to tell. It’ll be tight for sure. Depends on how much attention the oncoming troops are paying to their front. They may not be looking for an enemy patrol to be so far into the north already.”

  The window of opportunity was about to close.

  A steady wind threw tendrils of snow across their path. Time to hope that wind would hide a little extra motor noise. Alton gassed the engine, sending the vehicle bumping over ruts and gullies towards the comparative safety of the thick cluster of fir trees.

  “They’re getting closer,” said Mallory, her eyes glued to the sat. phone screen.

  “Almost there,” said Alton, gunning the gas a little more.

  “Alton…”

  Reaching the copse, he hung a hard left into the group of snow-covered evergreens.

  He killed the engine and turned to his wife. “Well?”

  “No change so far. They’re still headed straight for the vacant spot on the line.”

  “Not to be a wet blanket, but that’s exactly what they’d do if they wanted to catch us here,” pointed out David. “They have troops on three sides of us now. If they know we’re here but are just playing it cool so we don’t get suspicious, we’re good and truly trapped.”

  In minutes, the growl of an approaching tank grew from a whisper to a ground-shaking rumble. Was it close enough to detect the SUV? Without its white paint job, the Santa Fe surely would have been spotted already.

  After a seeming eternity, the tank noise diminished. A distant shout heralded the passage of foot soldiers trudging behind the tanks. There was no mistaking it; the new company had passed without veering in the direction of Alton’s team.

  He exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

  “So we move out?” asked Camron.

  “Not yet,” said Alton. “Let’s wait for the new troops to deploy along the defensive line. Once they do that, their full attention will be directed southward. That’s when we move.”

  Mallory gave the sat. phone a wave. “I’ll let you know when that happens.”

  After studying the device for five minutes, she set it on the dashboard. “The new guys have lined up with the rest of the companies.”

  Alton exited the SUV. Shielding his eyes from the morning sun, he peered south. Distant shouts and the faint clank of armored vehicles echoed across the landscape. The smell of diesel from the North Korean’s tanks lingered in the frosty air—too close for comfort.

  He turned his attention to the north. The bleak winter landscape inspired no desire to visit. Only the critical nature of the mission moved him forward.

  Alton returned to the vehicle. “So far, so good. But now we need to figure out how to locate the soldiers who launched the attack on Heat Wave.”

  “Actually,” said Chegal “I think I can help with that.”

  CHAPTER 53

  “Good,” said Alton. “What do you have in mind?”

  “I’ve been monitoring the over-the-air communications like you asked,” said Chegal. “There’s been a lot of chatter from a certain team, Wave Two.”

  “What have they said?”

  Chegal leaned back in the seat. “It’s hard to say exactly. You know how they talk in code. They said the Wave Two team made it back through the rabbit hole—”

  “Meaning the tunnel,” said Camron.

  “Obviously,” continued Chegal. “They said they’ll bypass the Warren, whatever that is, and head straight for Papa’s House.”

  “Good work,” said Alton, pausing to ruminate on the intelligence. “Wave Two must be the attackers. Who else has been traveling through the tunnel in the last few hours?”

  “Papa’s House,” said David. “Papa…an authority figure…it could mean their HQ.”

  “Agreed,” said Alton. He twisted a little further to face Chegal, who sat directly behind him. “Did this Wave Two team give their heading?”

  “No. If everyone knows where Papa’s House is, they wouldn’t need to.”

  “True.”

  Mallory picked up the sat. phone. “Let’s see if we can pick up anyone heading directly away from the area of the tunnel.”

  “But we don’t know where it exits,” said Camron.

  “True, but we can take an educated guess. If it’s within a mile or two of the DMZ border, it’ll come out in this area.” She pointed to a dark mass on the phone’s screen, then twisted a strand of hair around an index finger. “You know, that would an ideal spot to dig a tunnel entrance. It’s a complete blackout—thick trees everywhere. That much foliage would block visual and maybe even infrared satellites.”

  “So how—” began Camron.

  “I’ll zoom out just a bit. If anyone leaves the forest, we should be able to pick up their heat trail.”

  Nimble finger movements widened the focus of the image. She held up the screen so the rest of the team could see. An indistinct flicker of white dots angled off from the northwest side of the forest’s dark mass.

  “Is that them?” asked Camron, pointing to the dots. “The attackers?”

  “Could be,” said David. “Bu
t it’s…weird.”

  “Why?”

  “My first impulse is to say it must be them. Who else would it be? But the heat signatures seem too big to be people but too weak to be vehicles.”

  “Do the North Koreans know we use infrared satellites to track them?” asked O’Neil.

  “Yes,” said Camron.

  “What are you thinking?” Alton asked the former Special Forces soldier.

  “Back at Fort Bragg, I saw a demonstration of diffusers, a kind of high-tech gear that’s supposed to spread out your body heat so infrared devises have a hard time picking you up. They even had equipment you attach to cars and motorcycles to make them harder to spot. We know this mission is important to the North Koreans. Maybe they have this same gear.”

  David leaned forward to study the images again. “They do look a bit too strong to be ground troops. I think O’Neil is right.”

  “Then we have our objective,” said Alton. “Let’s follow those dots.”

  CHAPTER 54

  The Santa Fe bounced over frozen ruts and gullies, its suspension straining under the weight of its customized armor plating.

  Alton’s teeth rattled in his head. No wonder the North Koreans hadn’t spotted his concealed SUV on their way to the defensive line. Simply keeping one’s bearing in this wild terrain proved challenging enough.

  “We’re out of the mine field,” announced Mallory, her eyes glued to the screen of her sat. phone.

  “As far as we know,” added Camron.

  “That’s a pleasant thought,” said David. He leaned towards the driver’s seat. “Hey, Al, I thought you promised Fahima and Mastana you’d keep me safe on this trip.”

  “What?” said Alton. “You don’t call this safe?”

  David issued a snort of derision.

  From the shotgun seat, Mallory spoke in a calm voice. “We’re drifting a bit. Steer to the left.”

  “Got it,” said Alton as he trundled the SUV across a frozen creek bed.

  A minute later, Mallory spoke again. “They’re turning, now headed due north.” She held the phone closer. “Interesting…”

  “What?”

  “Their course has straightened out.” Her fingers moved over the screen. “I overlaid a road map. They’ve turned onto a two-lane highway running between mountains on either side.” She turned to Alton. “It runs due north. Directly away from the border.”

  “Are they keeping to that road?” asked Alton.

  She zoomed in the map and studied it for a minute. “Yeah, for the moment.”

  “Are there any structures on that route?” asked David. “Anything that could be Papa’s House?”

  “These maps don’t show man-made structures. They only show terrain and roads.”

  “But it shows heat sources, too, right?” said David, a bit of excitement creeping into his voice. “Scan ahead on that highway. See if you can find any heat signatures on or near it.”

  For the next few minutes, Mallory alternated between issuing course corrections to Alton and scanning for potential structures on the area’s lone road.

  “Hmm,” she murmured at last.

  “Have something?” asked David.

  “Maybe. It doesn’t look like much, though—a rectangular outline of heat. Must be some kind of heated structure, but who knows exactly what?”

  Camron leaned close to the phone. “Can you zoom back out again?

  Mallory complied, and he studied the new image. “I’m not certain, but that may be the Bunto fuel depot.”

  “The what?” asked David.

  “North Korea has a series of fuel depots spread out just north of the DMZ. Any military vehicle en route to a DMZ guard post stops at one of them to refuel. There’s no other way to gas up in this rough terrain. I think this is one of them.”

  “Which means it isn’t what we’re looking for,” said David. The disappointment dripped from his voice.

  Alton drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Maybe it’s not their final destination, but it could still work for us.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Let’s turn onto that northern road and follow the troops. If they stop at the depot to refuel, perhaps we’ll be able to catch them as they leave.”

  “That might work,” said Chegal. “But we’ll have to hurry. Elite troops won’t take long to gas up.”

  “Ask Vega if he sees any troops on this road,” said Alton.

  Mallory thumbed in a quick message. She read the reply and looked up. “He says not at the moment.”

  “Good. That’ll be our route.”

  Ten more minutes of off-roading brought the team to a crumbling, asphalt road winding through soaring granite peaks capped with snow. Thick groves of evergreens covered the mountains at lower altitudes and hugged both sides of the road.

  Alton swung the vehicle onto the icy road. “Here goes nothing.”

  Winds buffeted the SUV as it sped through the mountain pass. No other vehicles traveled the highway—not surprising, considering its isolated location and rugged conditions.

  “How far ahead is the enemy formation?” Alton asked.

  “Let me see…,” said Mallory. “About thirty or forty klicks.”

  “That’s all?” exclaimed Camron. “I would have expected them to be long gone by now.”

  “Me, too,” said O’Neil. “Maybe the terrain slowed them down.”

  “I think you’re on to something,” said Alton. “The tracks entering the tunnel from the South side were left by motorcycles. You can imagine what kind of difficulty they’d have driving through the icy forest we just crossed through.”

  David stretched and twisted his back. “I don’t want to imagine. Our ride was bad enough.”

  “Is there any way to tell the ground speed of the enemy troops?” asked Alton.

  “I can do a rough guess,” said Mallory, “but it’s only that. If you’re worried about when we’ll catch up, I’ll keep tabs on the distance between us.”

  “That’ll work.”

  Alton flipped down the visor to ward off the bright mid-morning sun. No reason to make the task of navigating a treacherous road any harder than it already was. He gripped the wheel and monitored his speed, balancing the need to overtake his enemies with the even greater need to avoid careening off the frozen road.

  The team settled into near silence, Mallory’s occasional announcements of a shrinking gap the only break to the tense monotony.

  After informing the team that the gap had shrunk to twenty kilometers, Mallory sat up and riveted her attention to the sat. phone. “The enemy formation is bunching together. They’re almost at the fuel depot…or whatever that building is. Looks like they’re slowing to enter.”

  Her eyes stayed glued to the screen as she continued. “Yep, they’re turning into it. You were right, Camron. They’re stopping to refuel. The next question is, will we catch up with them before they leave?”

  CHAPTER 55

  “At our current speed, we’ll be there in about twenty minutes,” said Alton. “That’s how long we have to come up with a plan.”

  “We’re not going to move in like we did at Heat Wave?” asked Camron.

  “No,” said Alton. “That was different. Back then, we were on our home turf, and the North Korean team was the one isolated in enemy territory. Now the tables are turned. They have superior numbers and a defensible location that they’re familiar with and we aren’t. An attack on the depot would be suicide.”

  “Agreed,” said O’Neil. “But we need to come up with something. How about going past the depot and setting up an ambush on the road north of there?”

  “We have plenty of C-four and Claymore mines,” added Mallory. “We could take out half of them in the first blast.”

  “That’s what I’m talking about!” said O’Neil. “My only worry is finishing our demolitions work before they arrive. We could spend two hours on it if we had the time, but we don’t. We need to have an early warning to wrap it up and
hide before they’re on top of us.”

  “Agreed,” said Alton. “Why don’t we stop and drop off my cellphone at the fuel depot’s entrance? We’ll leave the camera on with a live feed.”

  “I thought you said to leave the batteries out of our cameras or they’d know our position,” said Camron.

  “You’re right. We’ll have to take that chance to avoid the greater risk of the enemy force arriving when we’re not ready. We’ll disable the GPS on both phones and use the walkie-talkie app to transmit the signal directly between them—no cell towers needed. In fact, Camron, since setting up explosives isn’t your forte, you can keep an eye on my camera’s feed and let the rest of us know when the troops are leaving.”

  “Works for me,” replied the analyst.

  “Okay. We can’t drive past the fuel depot using the road. They’re too likely to have a guard shack or security cameras. How far off the road is the fuel depot?” he asked Mallory.

  “Hard to tell. Not far. Maybe a hundred yards.”

  “Good. We’ll go off-road and circle behind the fuel depot. Before we get too far, I’ll hop out and plant my cellphone at the entrance. Then we’ll loop behind the fuel depot, get back on the road, and haul ass north to set up our surprise.

  The team greeted the proposal with murmurs of assent.

  “Alton,” said Mallory, “with your leg hurting, wouldn’t it be better for someone else to plant the phone?”

  “I’ll be all right. And to be honest, I want to get a personal look at the facility. Maybe I’ll be able to spot how many motorcycles we’re dealing with.”

  “Someone else could do that.”

  “It’s only a couple hundred yards. I traveled a lot farther than that at the Heat Wave site.”

  She shrugged. “Okay. Better take more pain pills now.”

  “Yeah,” said Alton, unfastening his medical pouch and drawing forth three tablets. “Good idea.”

  He dry-swallowed the medicine and leaned on the accelerator. While he closed the distance to the depot, Mallory and Camron installed batteries into the two cellphones and tested the link between them.