Kill Chain

by J. Robert Kennedy

  “I’m neither.”

  Jimmy shrugged. “I guess we’ll just have to take your word for it.”

  “You better.” Niner reached over and squeezed Jimmy’s ass. “But if I was gay, you’d be the first I’d try to tap.”

  Jimmy swatted Niner’s lingering hand away. “And you wonder why there’s confusion.” He nodded toward Kim. “You should be grabbing her ass.”

  “She won’t let me.”

  “But I will?”

  “You just did.” Niner regarded Jimmy. “Huh. Maybe you’re the one who’s gay.”

  Jimmy rolled his eyes. “Here we go. I wonder if Charlie Team has an opening.”

  “Hell, if you really want to avoid me, join the SEALs. Then we’ll never see each other.”

  Jimmy shook his head emphatically. “No way, can’t stand the wa—”

  Niner cut him off, nodding toward Kim who was waving them over. “Looks like we’re on.” The team of four were already inside, two on either end of the third floor. Outside all that would remain were two unarmed, uniformed officers providing crowd control.

  Not enough personnel for the job, as far as he was concerned.

  Inside or out.

  “We’re ready,” said Kim. “Do you still want to participate?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Very well.” Kim entered the building, sprinting up the three flights of stairs, an impressed Niner racing to keep up. Reaching the third floor, two of the assault team greeted them.

  “We’re ready. No indication he knows we’re here.”

  “Good. Proceed.”

  The man activated his comm and all four rushed forward. Niner was about to follow when Kim held out her arm, blocking him. “Let them do their job. We’ll cover the hall.”

  Niner frowned but agreed as one of the men swung a battering ram against the door, it splintering open. All four surged in, shouting orders to get down when a shot fired.

  Followed by a lot more.

  Niner pushed Kim aside and sprinted toward the door as one of the assault team fell into the hallway, crawling backward for a moment before collapsing, unmoving. Niner could hear Jimmy on his heels as he readied his MP5, thankfully a shipment from Osan Air Base reaching them while they were at the Shinhan Motors plant. The gunfire continued, automatic weapons against semiautomatic, probably .40 caliber pistols, as he reached the door, swinging around the frame in a crouch.

  The gunfire stopped.

  He spotted a man sitting in a chair in the middle of the room, a laptop on a small table in front of him, the rest of the security team dead at his feet.

  Then he saw the drones.

  Niner spun back out into the hallway as they opened fire, pressing his back against the wall as he held an arm out, blocking Jimmy and Kim. “Drones! Aim high!” He turned, stepping back to get an angle then leaned quickly to his right, his weapon raised. He jerked back. “At least half a dozen.” He leaned over slightly, getting a bead on the edge of one of the drones.

  He squeezed the trigger.

  It dropped, a steady stream of gunfire the response.

  He jerked back.

  “Look out!”

  Niner spun around at Kim’s warning and dropped to a knee, aiming high and firing on full auto as a dozen drones swarmed toward them down the hallway. Two dropped immediately yet it was too late, Jimmy taking several hits, falling backward and smacking his head against the wall, out cold.

  A look of horror on Kim’s face was followed by her hands slowly rising. Niner continued to fire, stealing a quick glance behind him before he stopped. Another set of drones was hovering, holding their fire.

  A voice suddenly came from one of the drones. “Welcome to the party. Drop your weapons, or you die.”

  Kim glanced at Niner, speaking in Korean, the voice on the drone English. “What do we do?”

  “We do what he says.” Niner lowered his weapon, placing it on the floor, Kim doing the same.

  “All of your weapons.”

  Niner frowned, complying, a few moments later the floor littered with over a dozen ballistic, blunt force, and cutting weapons. “Can I check on my partner?”

  “Yes.”

  He knelt down and examined Jimmy for wounds, instead only finding several shots to his vest that didn’t penetrate. He checked and there was a strong pulse.

  Thank God!

  He looked up at Kim. “He’s just knocked out. He’ll be fine.”

  “It’s time we went for a ride.”

  50

  Li’s Photo

  Beijing, China

  “How’s the wife?”

  Chan Chao glanced at his wife Bing through the narrow doorway, she standing behind the counter of their photo shop, Kane an occasional visitor when he needed something from someone not friendly with the current regime. “Annoying as always.”

  “I heard that!”

  “Of course you did. You’re always here, in my space!”

  Kane chuckled. “I can feel the love.”

  “Never get married, my friend. At least not to a hateful woman like her.”

  Bing’s retort was swift. “Maybe if you knew how to make love like Dylan, I wouldn’t be so cranky!”

  “Did you hear that?”

  “Yup. Want some pointers?”

  “I’ve been doing it since before you were born. If I haven’t figured it out yet, I’m never going to.” Chan laughed.

  “Maybe I’ll trade you in for a younger model!”

  “Woman, no younger model would touch you let alone put up with your bickering.”

  “Then why don’t you leave?”

  He shrugged. “I must be an idiot.”

  “My father’s dead. He’s no longer going to kill you if you go.”

  He turned in his chair to face her. “He’s dead?”

  “You old fool, you know he’s dead! You went to his funeral.”

  “I thought I was dreaming about my own blessed funeral.”

  “If you keep talking back to me it will be your funeral!”

  He turned back to face his cubbyhole of a desk. “Don’t make promises you aren’t going to keep.”

  A knife embedded itself in the wall, two feet from his head.

  An exfiltration might be in order.

  “Dylan, I might need an exfil soon. She just threw a knife at me.”

  “Did she hit you?”

  He glanced over his shoulder at her. “No.”

  “Then she didn’t mean to.”

  Chan laughed. “You’re right. I think she secretly loves me.”

  “No, you’re the one that loves me.” Bing stepped into the tiny office and pulled the knife from the wall. “You treat me with respect, or next time Dylan’s here, I’ll jiggy-jiggy with him.” She leaned into the phone. “Okay, Dylan?”

  Kane laughed. “Umm, I’m not getting involved in this.”

  “What’d he say?”

  Chan covered the mouthpiece. “He said sure, he’d love to.”

  She beamed at him. “See, young men still find me attractive.”

  “Woman, you’re so short, young men use you as a stepstool to get a better view of something they actually want.”

  She frowned, a hint of hurt in her eyes.

  Uh oh, gone too far.

  She turned to leave, uncharacteristically quiet, and he reached out, grabbing her arm. She glared at him, her eyes glistening. “You know why I married you?” he asked gently.

  “Why?”

  “Because you were, and still are, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

  She frowned, though her eyes smiled. “You never get out of the shop,” she murmured. “How would you know what beautiful is anymore?”

  He smiled at her. “I’m blind to anything that isn’t the woman I love.”

  That worked.

  She beamed, patting him on the hand still holding her arm. “Okay, you get some tonight.”

  He grinned and she left the room.

  “Didn’t know yo
u were such a smooth talker.”

  Chan laughed, returning to his conversation with Kane. “It’s not smooth if it’s true.”

  “Must be love.”

  “Must be. Did you get the upload yet?”

  “Yeah, it just arrived during your marital crisis. Give me the executive summary.”

  Chan leaned forward, skimming through his notes. “The order for the drones was received three months ago, payment wired into their account, but get this, there were specific delivery instructions that were a little unusual.”

  “In what way?”

  “The container was supposed to arrive no later than yesterday, then not be delivered until today, even if it arrived early.”

  “Any reason given?”

  “None that they knew. Just that it had to be there no later than yesterday, and not to deliver it to the bakery until this morning. And it had to be first thing in the morning, no late morning or afternoon delivery.”

  “Who placed the order?”

  “Some shell corporation set up in South Korea. I’ve talked to my contacts there and it looks like it’s just a numbered company set up three months ago. One bank account, two transactions. A deposit then the transfer to pay for the drones.”

  “Address?”

  “The bakery.”

  Kane grunted. “Of course. We need to figure out why the delayed delivery.”

  “Maybe they didn’t want to risk it being late? Having it arrive early is always better than late. They were on a schedule.”

  Bing appeared in the doorway. “You two geniuses couldn’t figure your way out of a plastic bag.”

  He looked at her, mock annoyance on his face. “What now, woman?”

  “It’s obvious why they needed the extra time.”

  “Why, oh wise one?”

  “They had to weaponize the drones. They don’t come from the factory with guns!”

  Chan’s eyes widened. “I think she’s right.”

  “Of course I’m right.” Bing returned to her perch behind the counter, pleased with herself.

  I’ll never hear the end of that one.

  “You’ve got a wise woman there.”

  Chan frowned. “And she knows it.”

  “I’ve seen the photos of the downed drones. There’s no way a machine put those guns on them unless they had already configured an assembly line to do it. A human being had to be involved, and judging by the number of drones and the timeframe, I’m thinking a good number of hands were needed.” Kane paused then cursed.

  “What?”

  “Just thought of something. How did they ship them?”

  Chan’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, these things flew out of the back of the container. Weren’t they shipped in boxes?”

  Chan’s eyes widened as he realized what Kane was getting at. He checked the paperwork and nodded. “Yes, pallets of fifty.”

  “Well, I saw the photos of the container and there were no boxes inside. That means somebody unpacked the drones, weaponized them, then staged the container.”

  “If that’s the case, why wouldn’t they just release them at the container yard?”

  “Huh, that’s right, why wouldn’t they?” Kane paused. “If they did, then nobody would have known they were ever released, not that it would have made much of a difference, I guess.”

  Chan shook his head. “But it could have. Those drones had to deploy and remain hidden for hours, during heightened security. They’d have been better off leaving the container somewhere isolated then launch them just before they needed them. There’s no reason to send the container to the bakery.”

  “What’s the one thing you can be guaranteed of when you send a package marked perishable to someone with their name on it?”

  Chan shrugged. “They’ll open it?”

  “Exactly.”

  Chan’s jaw dropped. “They needed someone to open the container to let them out.”

  “Right. But if they weaponized them in South Korea after they arrived, then they already had someone there to open it.”

  “So—”

  “So, you two are still stupid,” interrupted Bing, her ear pressed to the extension phone. “You were meant to think they were weaponized over there.”

  Chan stared at her. “What do you mean stupid? It was your idea!”

  “That’s not the way I remember it. It’s obvious. They weaponized them here. Probably at the factory!”

  51

  Gangnam District

  Seoul, Republic of Korea

  Jimmy flinched, suddenly awake. His head pounded and his ribs protested as he heaved in a breath. He looked about, wondering what had happened for a moment before reality rushed back and he leaped to his feet, his body protesting the exertion. He scanned both ends of the hallway with his MP5 at the ready.

  He was alone.

  Save the bodies of the South Korean assault team.

  And only the assault team.

  He breathed a sigh of relief at not finding Niner or the Korean lady, Kim, dead along with them.

  But where the hell are they?

  Somebody moaned in the apartment, its door still ajar.

  Jimmy reached for his comm to find it wasn’t there.

  Shit!

  A sob.

  He raised his MP5 and approached the apartment, quickly leaning into the doorway to see what was inside.

  No drones this time.

  He stepped through the door, clearing the room from left to right, the only occupant sitting in a chair behind a table, a laptop sitting in front of him, a bottle of water beside it.

  Jimmy sniffed then winced.

  It stank.

  He glanced over at the kitchen of the small bachelor apartment piled with dishes and takeout boxes, it clear the man who apparently lived here had let his household chores lapse.

  “Do you speak English?”

  “Y-Yes.”

  “Where’s my partner?”

  “I-I don’t know.”

  Jimmy raised his weapon, aiming it at the man’s head. “Tell me or you’re dead.”

  “I don’t know! I swear! I heard the drones order them to drop their weapons then leave the building. I swear that’s all I know!”

  “Where are the hostages?”

  The man’s eyes widened. “Hostages? I don’t know anything about that. They just tell me what to do.”

  “Who’re they?”

  He shrugged. “I receive instructions by email. They said they’d kill my family if I didn’t cooperate.”

  Jimmy relaxed slightly, this man perhaps a victim as well. “Any idea who they are?”

  The clearly terrified man shook his head. “None.”

  Jimmy lowered his weapon—a touch. “You never met them?”

  He shook his head. “No. Everything’s done by computer.”

  “What have they had you do?”

  “Lots of things. First, I had to plant a virus on the vehicles for the G20, then they had me sending messages.”

  Jimmy’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of messages?”

  “Hiring people to do things. Little things.” The man paused, his eyes widening slightly, excited. “I don’t think they speak Korean!”

  That would kinda confirm North Korea isn’t involved.

  A siren wailed outside, tires screeching. Jimmy went to the window to see a police car arriving, its two occupants jumping out, batons drawn. The officers conducting crowd control earlier lay dead on the street, none of the residents visible, the street deserted.

  A buzzing sound behind him had him leap to the side, diving behind a couch as gunfire erupted from the doorway. He rolled, ending up on a knee, his MP5 belching lead at a lone drone hovering ten feet away. It disintegrated into dozens of pieces, dropping to the floor with a clatter. Jumping to his feet, Jimmy surged forward, listening for the distinctive hum of the drone’s blades, hearing nothing.

  The hallway was clear again.

  He kicked the car
cass of fried tech into the hallway and closed the door, locking it before turning to the man he was now certain was simply another victim in this situation.

  And cursed.

  Blood oozed from several chest wounds, he the clear target of the drone.

  Jimmy checked for a pulse and found none.

  There goes our only witness.

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cellphone, quickly dialing Dawson.

  “This is One-Zero. We’ve got a situation here.”

  52

  Unknown Location

  Seoul, Republic of Korea

  Niner sat in silence, the sound of a drone behind him enough to keep him obeying the disembodied voice of whoever was in control, he having serious doubts the man inside the apartment was anyone but a patsy. Their suspect had done nothing but sob when Niner, under orders, stripped the unconscious Jimmy of his comm gear and retrieved a set of car keys along with two plastic shopping bags from inside the apartment. Drones then led them out of the building, the sound of gunfire outside suggesting the worst.

  And the worst had been confirmed, the police officers performing crowd control lying in pools of their own blood, the screams of the panicked crowds fading into the distance.

  A vehicle, the same type as had been used by the security team accompanying the automated bus, responded to the key fob.

  Must have been purchased when he worked at the factory.

  “Open the rear door.”

  He complied and two drones floated inside, hovering in the backseat.

  “Close the door then both of you get in the front.”

  He opened the driver side door and climbed in, Kim rounding the car, two drones following her. She sat inside and closed her door, Niner pulling his own shut.

  “Start the car.”

  Niner slid the fob into the dash, placing his foot on the brake. He pushed the Start button and the car engine roared to life.

  “Remove your foot from the brake and put the bags over your heads.”

  Niner frowned, handing one of the bags to Kim as he lifted his foot. “I guess that explains what these are for.” He slipped it over his head, Kim doing the same, and the car immediately began to move, it disconcerting at first not to be in control. As a passenger trying to catch a few zees, he never had a problem, a competent driver he trusted always at the wheel. But in this case, it might as well have been Short Round from The Temple of Doom driving with wood boxes strapped to his feet.