Kill Chain

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Kill Chain Page 9

by J. Robert Kennedy


  If this is about me, then they died because of me.

  Her shoulders heaved as she took another step down.

  No one else dies because of me.

  She descended into the stink and damp of what thankfully seemed to be a storm system as opposed to a sewage line. She reached the ground and flinched as several drones surged toward her, coming to a stop only feet from her. She held up her hands, protecting her face, when the voice was suddenly heard, not as loud this time, coming from one of the drones.

  “Follow the drone. If you try to run, you will be shot.”

  She heard something overhead and looked to see a pair of feet descending toward her.

  “Don’t wait for the others.”

  One of the drones was already moving away from her, a light on its underside showing the way. She took a tentative step toward it then committed, moving briskly along a walkway to the left thankfully high enough to keep her feet dry, there little water, it apparently not having rained for some time. And as she moved deeper into the tunnel, and farther from the truck, the truck that perhaps could have been traced, she realized the purpose.

  They’re destroying the trail!

  Her eyes overflowed and her shoulders shook.

  Help us, Daddy!

  34

  Route 330

  Seoul, Republic of Korea

  CIA Special Agent Dylan Kane gunned his Hyosung GT650R Comet, threading it between two lanes of traffic as he raced toward his target. The moment Nancy Starling had gone missing, he had been called in, he fortunately on assignment just across the pond known as the Yellow Sea, a mission in China aborted, the President’s daughter taking priority. His handler had given him the expected instructions.

  Do whatever it takes.

  As a CIA operative, he had few limitations on what he was allowed to do, though killing indiscriminately was frowned upon. Essentially he normally had free rein to do what needed to be done, as long as it didn’t come back to bite the United States on the ass.

  Though today he had no such restrictions.

  “By whatever it takes, what do you mean?”

  “It means the President will clean up your mess.”

  He had smiled at that one, it the first time he had heard the Rules of Engagement essentially to be no Rules of Engagement. He understood the reasoning. The man had lost his wife a year ago, and now his teenage daughter had been kidnapped by what appeared to be the North Koreans until only a few minutes ago, Langley’s update indicating there might actually be someone else behind this.

  And at this moment in time, there was only one witness to the event who might be able to help discover who that person might be—and she was being shuttled to the airport for immediate evac to Beijing.

  And that couldn’t be allowed to happen.

  Yet despite the no holds barred directive issued by the President, Delta or the Secret Service couldn’t exactly do anything to prevent the evacuation. It might cause an international incident that could escalate an already tense situation.

  “You’re coming up on them now. Less than half a klick.”

  “Copy that.”

  Kane had been pleased to discover that Control on this mission would be his old high school buddy, Chris Leroux. The teenage über dork had been his tutor, helping him get his grades up enough to get into college, and during the course of their long study sessions, they had become good, if unlikely, friends, he the popular jock, Leroux the nerdy loner. They had lost touch over the years, their friendship rekindled after a chance encounter in the Langley cafeteria.

  It had been a welcome surprise, friends who could know the truth few and far between in his line of work.

  A Jaguar F-PACE SUV came into view as it changed lanes ahead, the distinct white on blue diplomatic plates matching what Dawson, a former comrade-in-arms, had reported. “Probable course?”

  “They should be making a right in three hundred meters. There’s much lighter traffic there.”

  “Copy that.”

  A signal light flashed and they took an off-ramp as expected, he tucking in behind them, flicking a switch on his right handlebar. He leaned forward, a Heads-Up Display projected on the windshield showing his target.

  “Taking the shot.” He pressed the trigger and a small device fired from his heavily customized CIA motorcycle, embedding itself in the rear of the vehicle. “Sending pulse.” He pressed another button and a surge of electrical power immediately fried the vehicle’s electronics, it quickly losing speed and coasting to the side of the road, the driver probably used to complete electrical failure in a Jag. “Vehicle disabled.”

  He pulled up behind them and dismounted, pulling his weapon as the passenger door opened. He strode forward then fired a tranquilizer dart into the security agent, pushing him back inside as he fired at the driver. A man in the rear shouted and Kane fired again, silencing him. He looked at the terrified wife of the Chinese President, the poor woman victimized all over again. He removed his helmet and smiled at her, speaking in perfect Mandarin. “Mrs. Cheng, I’m not here to hurt you, but I need to ask you some questions if we’re to save the other hostages.”

  A look of relief washed over the woman’s face as her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. “Oh, thank goodness you’re here! The voice told me that I couldn’t leave the country, but these men wouldn’t listen!”

  Kane nodded. If the Chinese were in on the hostage taking, then leaving her in-country certainly would put her at risk if there were a military response from North Korea. The fact that she had been ordered to stay seemed to cast some doubt on whether they were involved.

  Unless he hates his wife.

  It wouldn’t be the first time, though from the intel reports he had read on the couple, he doubted that was the case. He smiled at her. “Ma’am, I have a few questions that must be answered before it’s too late. Will you help me save the other women?”

  She snapped out a nod. “Of course.”

  “Good. Then let’s begin with this voice you spoke of.”

  35

  Unknown Location

  Republic of Korea

  It felt like ten minutes though might have been only five—or twenty—before the drone stopped at another ladder, two new drones blocking Nancy’s path. The original drone that had led the way immediately whisked out of sight, in the direction where she had come. She could hear footsteps echoing behind her, the others making their way, the knowledge of that fact providing her with some comfort.

  She wouldn’t be alone for long.

  She climbed the ladder without prompting, anything that would free her from the confines of this dank, dark environment welcome. Though it also signaled the end of any hope of being traced. She had seen enough movies to know it would be almost impossible for anyone to track them after they got into what she assumed was another truck overhead.

  And she’d never see her father again if things went wrong.

  She looked down then up, none of the drones in sight—at least not yet.

  I have to do something.

  She paused, her hand coming to rest on her necklace, a gold cross her mother had given her for her twelfth birthday.

  And ripped it off her neck. She held it out, peering down, trying to aim for the narrow walkway along the edge of the massive pipe.

  And let go.

  It fell, the chain swaying in the air, the cross hitting first, without a sound, coming to rest in a tiny pile, exactly where it needed to be.

  In plain sight.

  She closed her eyes and prayed for a moment that none of the others accidentally kicked it into the water, and that anyone searching for them would spot it, understanding the message.

  Niner would understand.

  She resumed her climb, suddenly aware her delay might be suspicious. She caught another glimpse of freedom, though this time she saw no evidence of humanity, but did hear light traffic. The underside of the truck once again bristled with technology, and once again she was left to wonder who had
moved the grate, it certainly not any of the drones they had been witness to.

  Robots?

  She immediately dismissed the thought, robots removing drain covers a little too conspicuous to go unnoticed. Drones she could understand. They could fly for miles. In fact, according to Jeff, someone on the other side of the planet could control a properly equipped drone. She assumed these were connected to the Internet somehow, perhaps through Wi-Fi, more likely through some sort of cellular connection. And if that were the case, their operator could be anywhere.

  Robots, though, were not so flexible. Someone would have had to place it there, and if they had, then why wouldn’t they just remove the manhole cover themselves?

  It meant they were here, in Korea.

  The North Koreans!

  The thought sent a chill up her spine as she cleared the ladder and pulled herself up into the back of yet another vehicle, this one much smaller than the last. She stood, hunched over, in what appeared to be a box van of some sort, benches again lining the walls, a camera and speaker at the front, two buzzing drones hovering near the roll-up rear door.

  “Pumpkin?”

  Her heart leaped into her throat, a hard ball forming in her chest, forcing its way up.

  “It’s Daddy. Can you hear me?”

  “Y-yes!” she cried, her head spinning in the ridiculous hope he was actually in the truck with her, unnoticed in some missed corner.

  “Are you okay?”

  “You’ve got to help us! They’ve killed four people already! They killed that nice German man and some others. And I don’t know what they did with the Chinese lady.”

  “She’s safe. Don’t worry about her. You just stay calm and we’ll find y—”

  “Touching.” The inhuman voice they had all come to fear abruptly interrupted her father’s voice. “Now you have your proof of life, Mr. President. Now it is time for you to do something for us.”

  “Daddy!”

  A burst of static, then nothing. She dropped onto one of the benches, battling to control the urge to sob in self-pity, as the Italian poked her head through the opening in the floor.

  “Who are you talking to?”

  Nancy’s head fell back against the side of the truck as she sighed. “Myself, I guess.” She rose and took the woman’s hand, helping her up, the others following over several minutes. She’d tell them about the conversation when they had all arrived, there no point in repeating it a dozen or more times. Besides, she didn’t feel like talking right now, she still at war with her emotions, the sound of her father’s voice at once comforting, at once a reminder of all she had to lose.

  He’d die without me!

  The thought of him all alone broke her heart, a tiny fire in her gut igniting, it the embers of a determination to survive their ordeal, whatever it took, so he wouldn’t die having lost everything he loved.

  The panel slid shut. Nancy looked about the truck, noticing none of the translators or support staff with them. She turned to the Canadian, the last to arrive. “Where’s everyone else?”

  The woman shook her head. “I don’t know. No one was behind me.”

  Nancy took her seat as the truck’s engine roared to life. “What do you think they’ll do to them?”

  The question went unanswered, no one daring to contemplate.

  36

  Embassy of the United States Seoul

  32 Sejongno Street, Seoul, Republic of Korea

  “What is it you want?”

  “To change the world.”

  Starling’s eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?”

  “Mr. President, I am contacting you and you alone, for obvious reasons. I have your daughter. For everyone else, I have their wives. I have no way of knowing whether or not they actually love their wives, hate their wives, or care in the least what happens to them either way, however a father loves his daughter. Always. Your attention, I have.”

  Starling exchanged a quick glance with Red, the man a father as well, and he could tell they both agreed their opponent was right. A parent would do anything for their child, and a husband would do anything for the woman he loved, but from his own briefings on his counterparts, he knew at least a few of the “happy couples” weren’t so happy in reality.

  The man was right.

  He was the only one who could be counted on absolutely to cooperate.

  “If you tell any of your fellow leaders about our conversation, or the true motive behind what is happening, I will kill your daughter immediately. If your actions give any indication that what the outside world believes is the truth, isn’t, your daughter dies. Understood?”

  Starling’s chest filled with rage and horror, the desire to reach through the phone’s speaker and into the man’s throat so he could tear his heart out, almost irresistible.

  But this man controlled his daughter’s fate, so he had to cooperate, to remain calm.

  “Yes.”

  “Very well. Mr. President, your record on environmental protection is pathetic. We represent the people of this planet, the one planet we know is capable of sustaining life, and we are sick and tired of platitudes from our leaders.”

  Starling’s eyes shot wide open. The environment? These were eco-terrorists? He had expected North Koreans, perhaps Chinese, even Islamic extremists, but not eco-terrorists. The very idea was almost preposterous, yet here they were, the loved ones of the most powerful nations in the world held hostage so those in power would do the bidding of the nutbars on the other end of this phone call.

  “It is time our planet came before the politicians that control our lives and the corporations that control them. It is time our planet was first on the agenda, rather than last. When climate control treaties exempt the worst polluters, when they leave the ambitious yet necessary and difficult targets off the table, then they are not worth the paper they are written on. The world needs a reset, Mr. President, and together, we’re going to change the future. Together, we’re going to give our planet, our species, a fighting chance.”

  Starling sat shaking his head. He had never bought into global warming and climate change, at least not the manmade variety. After all, if man’s use of fossil fuels was behind all of the planet’s problems, how did you explain other recent warming periods, including the Medieval Warm Period that had allowed the Vikings to settle and grow crops in Greenland for centuries? There were no cars filling the streets, no homes heated by natural gas.

  And he was a champion for the environment. Actual proven problems. He never understood why the real problem of pollution had been abandoned by those who purported in some instances to love their planet more than their own lives, for the questionable assumption of carbon-based global warming. Tackle pollution, and by extension, much of the carbon-based pollutants they feared would be taken care of as well.

  But that seemed to have been abandoned.

  It was frustrating as a politician to be forced to agree publicly with something he didn’t believe in privately, yet if he didn’t give at least tacit acknowledgment of the “problem”, he could never win reelection. He had seen it first hand in committee meetings where scientists who didn’t toe the line of the new religion were denied funding, and ridiculous new studies having nothing to do with the climate were now linked to climate change just in the hopes they could get funding.

  Women are more affected by climate change? ISIL is a result of climate change? We need to study Venus to see the impact of climate change?

  “You’re eco-terrorists!” He immediately regretted his frustrated outburst.

  “We are not terrorists, Mr. President, we are citizens of the world who will no longer sit idly by and watch cowardly, corporate controlled politicians like yourself, put our planet’s future at risk.”

  Starling’s jaw clenched as frustration built within. “The United States does not negotiate with terrorists.”

  “Then, Mr. President, your daughter is dead.”

  A click sealed her fate.

  37
r />   Shinhan Motors Assembly Plant

  Seoul, Republic of Korea

  Yum!

  Niner appreciated the petite package of Senior Inspector Kim as she talked with the Shinhan Motors officials. She glanced at him and he smiled, there no response. He glanced at Jimmy. “I think she’s into me.”

  “I think you’ve been sniffing glue.”

  “Naw, there’s definitely some chemistry there.”

  “The only chemistry is in your pants, and she’s not interested.”

  “I think I might have to go on the charm offensive.”

  Jimmy gave him a look. “Why? We’re leaving as soon as we find the hostages. All you’re going to do is get yourself all horned up then we’re all going to have to hear about it the entire flight home.”

  Niner flicked a wrist at him. “Pshaw, you assume I’m going to fail.”

  “So what, you just want to plant the flag then leave? Besides, I thought you were g—”

  “Here she comes. Pretend I just said something funny.”

  “I don’t think laughter would give the right impression considering the circumstances.”

  “Gentlemen, they’ve compiled a list of all the employees that could potentially have had access to the vehicles.”

  Niner smiled, it turning awkward as he tried not to seem creepy, he unfortunately doing just that as he aborted the attempt, deciding Jimmy was right. “How long a list?”

  “Long.”

  “We’ll need to set up interviews with every one of them,” said Jimmy.

  Kim shook her head. “That might not be necessary.”

  Niner’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

  “One of the men on this list hasn’t shown up for work since the day after the two vehicles were shipped.”

  Niner’s eyes widened slightly, there now a hint of hope. “When was he hired?”

  “He’s worked here for over a year.”

  “What do we know about him?”

  She held up some papers given to her by company officials. “He cleared a government background check when he was hired since he’d have access to government vehicles, and as far as his record goes, he was a model employee.”

 

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