His leg throbbing, Alton stopped behind the last place of concealment before the lab’s main door, a stack of plastic-wrapped equipment presumably waiting to be moved into the building.
Mallory shouldered her rifle and slipped the suppressed Beretta from the folds of her coat.
Alton glanced at his blackout watch—eleven minutes since Chegal’s departure. He held the walkie-talkie to his ear, waiting for the signal.
Nothing. The fifteen minute mark arrived without a single transmission. Twenty minutes came and went. Should Alton move the team back to a better hiding spot or continue to wait?
Before he could decide, a distinct double-click sounded over the walkie-talkie.
Alton exhaled a sigh of relief and cast a glance around the courtyard. No one. “Okay, let’s move.”
The team scrambled for the main door and prepared to enter.
Were O’Neil’s suspicions about Chegal’s loyalty true? In seconds, they’d find out.
CHAPTER 70
The team’s white combat uniforms conferred an advantage. From a distance, they appeared identical to the North Korean’s winter camo.
Entering the building, Alton and his teammates moved with the step and confidence of soldiers who belonged there—a better technique than trying to bolt across the hall and hope the six hallway guards wouldn’t take notice.
Thankfully, none of them did.
Alton whispered a silent thanks for catching one of the few breaks in this mission. He led his teammates to the second, center hallway and glanced around the corner as casually as possible.
At the end of the hallway, several soldiers stood guard. A North Korean carrying the standard-issue Type 98 rifle exited double doors and headed in Alton’s direction.
Alton sauntered back around the corner. “We’re about to have company.”
His walkie-talkie sprang to life. “It’s me, Chegal, coming down the hall. Don’t shoot.”
O’Neil’s eyebrows bunched together. He looked ready for anything.
“Easy,” said Alton. “He’s on our side.” He’d better be.
Chegal marched around the corner and lowered his rifle. “There’s twenty-three soldiers in the IT center—all armed. They set up a machine-gun nest in front of the door leading from the other hallway.”
“Can you go back in the room and position yourself behind them without drawing suspicion?” asked Alton.
“I think so.”
“Do that. We’ll attack through the center hallway door. Once they turn their attention to us, start firing and don’t stop ‘til you’ve taken them all out.”
“Kill them—from behind?” asked Camron.
“These are the guys who killed a bunch of civilian scientists at Heat Wave—unarmed men and women. They won’t hesitate to kill us if we give them the chance, especially now that we’ve jeopardized their project.”
“There are three guards outside the center-hallway door,” added Chegal. “You’ll need to take them out first…without alerting the others inside the IT center.”
“Yep. That’s what this is for,” said Mallory, hefting the Beretta straight up. “It’s not silent, but neither is the IT center. We can hear the soldiers from here. With all that activity, they won’t hear my shots…hopefully.”
Chegal looked skeptical. “We’ll see. Once you take out the hallway guards, you’d better attack the IT center right away if you want to have any surprise at all.”
“Got it,” said Alton. “By the way, how do you say ‘help’ in Korean?”
“Doum. Why?”
“Just a little idea for keeping our element of surprise. Return to the IT center and be ready for our attack.”
“Will do.” Chegal rounded the corner and marched down the hall.
A minute later, Alton took a step into the center hallway with his hands folded behind his head. O’Neil trained his rifle on Alton but kept his body behind the corner, out of sight of the three guards.
“Doum!” barked O’Neil.
The trio of soldiers ran down the hallway, swiveling their rifles back and forth as they approached.
The first pulled up. The question he had started to ask stuck in his throat as he noticed O’Neil’s strawberry-blond hair—definitely not Korean.
Before he could react, Mallory sent a pair of rounds into him and his closest comrade, while O’Neil used the butt of his rifle to send the third into an unconscious pile on the floor.
“Nice work,” said Alton. “I bet they didn’t hear that in the IT room.” He glanced around. No other guards had been summoned to the spot. “Let’s press the attack before they notice these three are missing.”
Alton and Mallory moved out first, advancing half the distance, then crouching in a side doorway. O’Neil, David, and Camron followed.
Within seconds, they reached the IT center’s double doors.
Alton leaned in close to his teammates. “Mallory and I will enter first. O’Neil and David, give us a few seconds to clear the door, then come in blazing. Just be careful you don’t hit Chegal. Camron, you can stay out here if you want to.”
“And increase the chances of ending up their prisoner?” replied the analyst with a snort. “I don’t think so.”
Alton smiled. “Good. We could use all the help we can get. Make sure your Glock is fully loaded.” He pulled back the charging handle of his rifle and released it, loading the first round in the chamber. “Ready, everyone?”
They nodded.
“Then let’s go kick ass—and give them a taste of the dish they served those Heat Wave scientists.”
CHAPTER 71
Alton spoke to his wife in a whisper. “Once through the door, you head right. I’ll go left. That’ll give them two targets to shoot at instead of one.”
“You know exactly how to reassure a girl.”
“Hey, maximum confusion on your enemy’s part is always reassuring, right?” He gripped his rifle. “Ready? Go!”
Mallory entered first, rolling to the right and taking up a position behind a matte-black rack of servers, the heavy-duty computers employed by the IT center.
Alton stayed on her heels and leapt to the left, ending up behind a squat, beige box that looked to be an old-school computer-storage device.
The first North Korean soldier had scarcely begun to shout when the Blackwells opened up with a torrent of blasts. Three soldiers fell where they stood. As the rest began to scatter, four more toppled under the Blackwells’ precision firing. Those still alive took up positions behind rows of nearby servers and a pair of storage boxes.
Sparks flew out of electronic machinery. Smoke and a low hum filled the air.
A North Korean manning the machine-gun nest swiveled his tripod-mounted weapon to fend off the attack. Its heavy chug-chug-chug filled the air. Enormous rounds sliced through the computer equipment behind which Mallory hid, sending her scrambling for new cover.
The machine-gun operator turned his weapon in a bid to track her down.
A new burst of gunfire erupted from the back of the room—Chegal joining the fray. The machine-gun operator’s head snapped to the right, revealing a gaping hole where his left ear had been.
Another North Korean bolted for the machine-gun. His hands had just touched the weapon when a stream of hot lead from Chegal caught him square in the chest. The lifeless soldier toppled backwards onto the floor’s white linoleum.
Smoke began to pour from some of the bullet holes in the IT center’s hardware, including the one behind which Alton hid. He attempted to move but was forced back by the chatter of weapons and hailstorm of slugs scattering across the open floor he would have to traverse to move away from his spot.
Mallory continued to blast away.
One of her rounds ricocheted off the helmet of a North Korean. The impact left him dizzy. As he staggered from behind his cover, Mallory finished him off with a shot through the bottom of his throat. The man fell backwards and landed spread eagle, a trail of blood running down his neck.
The incoming fire on Alton’s position intensified. Apparently, the North Koreans had decided to take him out first.
From Alton’s right, a grenade sailed through the air and skidded across the tile floor, ending with a thump against the side of a computer rack. Amidst yells, the North Korean soldiers began to scatter but had their progress cut short with an enormous blast.
A guard pinwheeled into the wall, while another two tumbled into a walkway between the racks. Alton tried to finish off a wounded soldier but had to duck when an incoming fusillade whistled in from multiple directions. If he stuck a finger into that maelstrom, it was sure to be shot off.
He glanced towards Mallory just in time to see her dart from behind her cover. She looked to be making for the next-closest server rack.
On her second step, enemy fire caught her on the right shoulder, spinning her around.
Alton’s heart jumped to his throat. Breathing came with difficulty.
Mallory fell to the floor. Using one hand to keep her helmet on her head, she used the other to push herself behind the rack before another incoming round found its mark.
Alton’s wide eyes must have asked the question.
“I’m all right,” she yelled, holding up a now-sizzling sat. phone. “This took the hit.”
Relief coursed through Alton’s mind. “That was a big risk.”
“I had to.”
“Why?”
“You’ll see,” said Mallory, more focused on squeezing off shots than conversing.
A shout and a new set of gunfire erupted from the opposite end of the IT center.
The incoming fire let up, giving Alton the chance to peek around the corner of his quickly disintegrating cover.
Camron dropped from a ceiling hole formed by a newly-removed acoustic tile. He landed next to O’Neil and David, who were already sending streams of hot lead into the enemy ranks.
Trapped between fire from three sides, the enemy soldiers began to lose their discipline. Several bolted into the hall. Chegal picked off one in the doorway, but two more continued, protected from fire as the double doors swung shut.
One of the North Koreans made a mad dash for O’Neil’s position, only to be mowed down by twin steams of precision shooting.
Now that the pressure had lifted from Alton’s position, he rolled to the left side of his cover…in time to see a North Korean rushing straight towards him.
No time to aim. Alton swiveled up his rifle and fired point blank.
One of Alton’s rounds hit the enemy in his hand, causing his rifle to drop with a clatter onto the floor.
The North Korean’s face balled in pain, yet he continued to advance.
The soldier leapt.
Alton squeezed off another three-round burst. The man fell with a heavy thud onto Alton’s kneeling figure, the impact of the corpse pushing him backwards onto the tile.
Alton struggled to push the dead weight off his chest. Adrenaline is amazing stuff. Its surge gave him the strength to shove the bulky frame to the side and crouch behind the tattered storage cabinet.
The enemy soldiers continued to scatter. The challenge now was containing them before they could flee and round up reinforcements.
Keeping up an incessant storm of fire, Chegal moved in. One of his rounds blew out an enemy’s elbow. A shredded camo shirt revealed a bloody, macerated arm. The prone figure fired blind, prompting Chegal to land a kill shot to the man’s chest.
Another soldier made a break for the exit. O’Neil rose to draw a bead on the man.
The soldier squatted, pivoted, and unleashed blistering fire in O’Neil’s direction.
Alton couldn’t tell exactly where O’Neil took the round. He only saw the man fly backwards and land with a sickening crash on the floor.
David sent a barrage of fire towards the North Korean, crumpling him to the tile with a head shot.
The remaining enemy soldiers had gathered in a mass, preparing to rush the exit as a group.
Alton flipped the pin off a grenade and launched it towards the double doors. Sure enough, the soldiers bolted towards the door and had nearly reached it when the grenade detonated.
Whole and partial bodies careened through the air, accompanied by a rush of noise.
With the exception of the groans of a wounded man, the IT center fell into an eerie silence. Alton’s labored breathing sounded loud in the hush.
“Blackwell!” yelled Camron. “O’Neil is down.”
“I know,” replied Alton. “I’m coming.”
Keeping a wary eye out for remaining enemy troops, Alton staggered over to his comrades.
Camron and David had made it through the battle unscathed, but O’Neil’s pale face and closed eyes showed no sign of movement. Blood seeped through an abdominal wound, spreading a crimson stain on his white uniform. A round had hit him on the left side, where the body armor didn’t cover.
Alton felt for a pulse but couldn’t find one through the thick cloth of O’Neil’s shirt. The man needed a thorough triage. “See what you can do for O’Neil,” he told Mallory and Chegal, who had just rejoined them. “David, stand guard at the door. Let us know if anyone’s coming. I’ll look for the solar files on what’s left of these servers.”
Chegal looked dubious. “Is O’Neil even alive?”
“You won’t know until you take his vitals,” said Alton. “Now let’s get busy before every soldier left in this place crashes our party.”
CHAPTER 72
“Camron, come with me,” said Alton. “I’ll need you to translate.”
Ignoring the caustic odor of gunpowder and burnt electronics, Alton limped to the rear of the IT center, where a line of terminals on a laminate table provided access to the information stored on the room’s servers. Tendrils of smoke from a bullet-hole signaled one terminal’s demise, but the rest appeared to be in working order.
Alton positioned himself in front of the first terminal. Of course, everything on the screen appeared in Korean.
“Give me a running translation,” he told Camron. “We’ll have only a few minutes before the rest of the site’s guards show up.”
The duo worked in tandem, Camron anticipating Alton’s questions before they could be asked. Three minutes of furious searching stretched to five.
A breathless Chegal appeared from around the corner. “We have trouble.”
“The rest of the guards on the way?” asked Alton.
“Worse. I tuned my walkie-talkie back to the usual North Korean frequency to monitor their transmissions. They’ve called in an entire battalion to intercept us.”
“How long ‘til they’re here?”
“Not long. If they’re coming from Hyon-ni, their closest military base, maybe an hour—depending on what kind of vehicles they’re using.”
“Good to know. I’m sending a dump of the solar technical files to that laptop,” said Alton, pointing to an older model tethered by a USB cable to the side of a server. “Then I’ll delete them from the servers.”
“How do you know those are North Korea’s only copies?” asked Chegal.
“I don’t. But I know a way we can be sure we’ve eliminated them all.”
He eyed the terminal. “Okay, the download is finished, and I’ve kicked off the erasure routine. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Alton and his companions traveled to the front of the IT center. The room’s haze had grown thicker as smoke continued to pour from shot-up equipment.
They rejoined Mallory, who knelt over O’Neil’s still form.
“How is he?” said Alton.
“Not good. Weak pulse…rapid heartbeat. He needs real medical attention, not first aid.”
“He’s not going to get it here. Think he can withstand being transported?”
Mallory pursed her lips. “I doubt it. He’s gotten worse just in the few minutes I’ve been working on him.”
“We don’t have a choice. A huge North Korean force is on the way. Camron and Chegal, rig
up a stretcher to carry O’Neil. Get him back to the SUV as quick as you can. Keep the pressure on his wound so he doesn’t bleed out. David, their hands will be full, so you go with them as their escort.”
“What about you?” asked Mallory. “You’re not coming with us?”
“I need a few minutes to make sure Tong doesn’t have any more copies of the solar files. And I need you with me to guide me back to our vehicle.” He glanced at his watch and turned to David. “If we’re not back by fourteen hundred hours, take off without us. No sense in all of us being captured.”
His friend grunted as he rummaged through the room’s equipment, already working to construct a stretcher. He stood up to look Alton in the eye. “Don’t be late.”
CHAPTER 73
Commander Yu stomped across the courtyard. Words couldn’t describe the depth of his frustration as Tong, a brilliant scientist but clueless military commander, had ordered one ill-advised battle tactic after another. North Korea’s strict hierarchal authority structure allowed no room for Yu to countermand such orders. Better to obey an unwise command than be hung for insubordination. But the frustration! What good was Yu’s redeployment from the Warren to this location if Tong was going to squander the commander’s military expertise?
At least Tong’s orders had kept Yu out of the gunfight in the IT center, one his troops—deployed by Tong in an entirely wrong fashion—had lost.
And now that Tong had lost control of Papa’s House, he had fled, leaving Yu the responsibility of explaining the debacle to the commander of the incoming troops. Speaking of which, where were they? The convoy should have arrived by now.
At least Yu’s request for satellite tracking of the invaders had finally been granted—now that the damage had already been done. All that was left was capturing and punishing the enemy force, a task Yu would take exceptional pleasure in executing. This tiny band had ruined years of meticulous planning. He would ensure they felt the full extent of his fury.
When the Killing Starts (The Blackwell Files Book 8) Page 22
