Kim laughed, the fear gone. “Are all Americans insane like you?”
“Only the handsome ones.”
Nancy groaned. “Oh man, adults are sooo weird.”
Niner gave her a look. “Enough out of you, young lady.” He returned his attention to the vision in front of him. “So, what do you say? Coffee?”
Kim shook her head, Niner’s heart breaking just a little. “No, but I’ll cook you dinner.”
Niner beamed. “Even better. I’ll bring the wine and the good time.”
Kim rolled her eyes. “I’m thinking I might be regretting—”
She was silenced as a ricochet rang off a metal table leg then slammed into the side of her head.
She dropped.
“Yunhui!”
87
Operations Center 1
CIA Headquarters, Langley, Virginia
“What did that kid’s email tell us? A cellphone tower was pinged on the western coast of South Korea?”
Child nodded. “Yeah, it looks like the source video was uploaded via satellite link except for a few bytes of data that were sent through this tower.” He motioned toward the display, a map of the Korean coast shown with a small, pulsing red circle indicating the tower’s range.
Leroux stepped toward the display. “Okay, so they didn’t think they had a cell link, but for a brief moment they did. If we look at ideal conditions, favorable atmospheric bounce, whatever, what’s the max range that they could have possibly connected from?”
The red circle expanded.
“Okay, so we assume they’re not on land, otherwise they would have had a constant cellular connection, and they would have intentionally shut that capability down on their equipment so they’d use the untraceable satellite. What does that leave us with?”
The part of the circle covering land blacked out.
“Okay, so now assume they were far enough out that they expected this tower couldn’t be reached.”
A little bit more disappeared.
“Okay, we’ve still got some serious real estate there. Get me the Director, we’ll need to get some assets in the area to start looking for them.”
Child immediately lifted his phone to make the call.
“But what about the signal?” asked Tong. “If they’re at sea, they’re still directing those drones by satellite.”
Child covered the mouthpiece of his phone. “Umm, no they’re not.”
Tong turned to look at him. “What do you mean? They have to be.”
Child shook his head. “No, those drones have been modified to work on the cellular network. Remember, we’ve already examined a few of the ones that were shot down. Riker is using his satellite connection to connect to the South Korean cellular network, and the data is then being transmitted through that.”
Leroux’s head bobbed. “So shut down their cellular network, and we disrupt the kill chain.”
Tong’s eyes widened. “Can we do that?”
Child cracked his knuckles. “Challenge accepted.”
88
Yangcheon District
Seoul, Republic of Korea
Dawson shoved a grenade into the M203 launcher attached to his MP5 and leaned out, firing at the nearest automated weapons platform before stepping back immediately behind the wall providing cover. An explosion shook the ground, the belching lead abruptly stopped.
He grinned at Atlas. “Care to see if I got it?”
“Umm, no. I think it’s Spock’s turn.”
“No, effin’ way,” was Spock’s reply over the comms.
“Hey, I was the one left outside in Iceland to deal with these damned things last time.”
“Not my fault you’ve got ample hips and couldn’t fit in the air duct.”
“Again with my hips.”
“At least I didn’t mention your momma’s.”
“Or your sister’s!” added Jagger.
Atlas glared through the walls to the other side of the warehouse where Spock and Jagger were stationed. “Skulls. Cracking. Pain!”
Dawson grinned and poked his head out, relieved to find the platform a smoking slab of twisted metal. “Okay, ladies, it’s done. Spock, are you in position?”
“Roger that.”
“Fire.”
Another explosion from the opposite end of the parking lot signaled the end of a second platform. With three on the opposite side of the building, there was only one left to worry about.
Unfortunately, the only way to hit it was to expose themselves.
Dawson slapped another grenade into the launcher. “Okay everyone, remember the plan. I’m going to head straight for the first dead platform at this side. Jagger, five count, then you cross in front of the building. The third platform should already be tracking me. Take your shot. As soon as he takes his shot, the rest of you follow and if necessary, take yours. And if you all miss, you’re fired. Understood?”
“Yes, Sergeant Major!”
Dawson gripped his MP5 tightly, taking a deep breath. “Okay, proceed in three… two… one… Execute!” He sprinted from the safety of the side of the opposing warehouse, racing toward the smoking remains of the first platform he had eliminated. To his right he finally got an angle on the third platform as it acquired him, positioned between its two dead buddies.
At the far end he spotted Jagger racing along the front of the building, the sentry taking no notice of him as it opened up on Dawson. He dove the final few feet, rolling in behind the sturdy metal housing of the wrecked automated weapons platform.
And the surviving platform immediately adjusted.
Swinging its turret toward the exposed Jagger.
“Get down!”
Jagger dove, rolling on the ground as the metal doors of the warehouse were shredded, hundreds of rounds tearing it apart as Dawson took a knee and fired at the platform. The grenade slammed into the base, rocking the entire installation, though not silencing the weapon.
Dawson immediately began to reload as a second explosion rocked the area, the gun silenced, Atlas stepping out into the open with a strut that demanded We Are The Champions be played on a boombox somewhere.
“You okay?” Dawson shouted to Jagger who rolled onto his back, raising an arm and giving a thumbs up.
“Not sure yet. Think so.”
Spock jogged over and pulled the man to his feet, any frivolity silenced as the gunfire and screams inside their target were now audible with the sentries silenced.
“Let’s move!”
Niner reached over and checked for a pulse, breathing a sigh of relief as he detected one. He pushed Kim’s hair aside, it matted with blood, then felt his chest tighten as he pulled his fingers away, brain matter evident. He squeezed his eyes shut and dropped his head onto Nancy’s shoulder, the young girl already crying as she stared at the nearly dead woman beside her.
He sucked in a breath and buried his emotions deep, a rage building within that demanded attention. He pushed himself up on his elbows when Nancy grabbed his arm.
“What are you doing?”
He stopped, there no reasonable response.
“Get down!” she cried.
He complied when suddenly the gunfire stopped, quickly followed moments later by clattering sounds.
Then nothing.
Not even a whir of the drones’ blades.
“What just happened?” asked someone.
Niner quickly spun around, peering between the couches and smiled.
All the drones were down, some piled on others, their rotors quickly coming to a rest.
“Okay, everyone out, now!” He kicked the nearest couch out of the way then scrambled out, pulling Nancy and the first couple of hostages out before pulling a gun off one of the drones and shooting the lone door’s lock off. It swung open and he stepped through to find the warehouse empty save the car he and Kim had arrived in, and the box van that had transported the hostages.
And dozens of drones, lying on the ground, dead.
He sprinted toward the large doors to the right and pressed the button to open them, the motor overhead roaring to life, the heavy doors rising. As the light from the fading sun of a day from hell grew, his chest tightened as he saw a group of long shadows rushing toward them.
He raised his weapon, he finally about to meet who was behind this.
“Lightfoot!”
He smiled. “Thunderclap!”
He lowered his weapon as Dawson, Spock, Jagger and Atlas came into view, Jimmy on their tail.
Thank God!
He turned toward the hostages, still cowering inside. “Let’s go, now!” He waved them through as the others arrived, taking charge.
“What happened?” asked Dawson as he stared at the downed drones.
Niner shook his head. “No idea. They just dropped. But let’s get to some cover before they change their mind.”
“Roger that.” Dawson turned to the women. “Let’s move, people!” His bark had the ladies yelping, though he detected excitement rather than fear.
They had been saved.
Minutes too late.
He jogged back inside, crawled under the table, and gently lifted Kim off the floor. He carefully maneuvered his way out from under their makeshift shelter, then carried her through the door and out of the warehouse as he watched choppers begin to set down several hundred feet away, the others all safely clear of the building.
He leaned in and pressed his nose against hers. “Hang on, baby, we haven’t even had our first date yet.”
89
Off the Coast of South Korea, Yellow Sea
Grant Riker slammed his fist on the console.
“Clever. Very clever.” He sneered. “But not clever enough.”
He moved his mouse and double-clicked on an icon, a subroutine launched for just such an occasion. A satellite signal was sent to a relay station he had installed at the warehouse for this eventuality, it attached to its own cellular tower.
It was just a matter of time.
His stomach gurgled.
He gripped it, feeling a little green, the open seas never his idea of a good time, and now that they were skipping across the waves, heading full speed for Chinese waters, his stomach was doing backflips.
But that was all forgotten the moment the first camera activated.
Then another.
And the rest.
As they began to hover, he tapped on one of the thumbnail images, a view expanding, the Asian Special Forces soldier walking out of the warehouse carrying the Korean woman in his arms.
“Time for everyone to die.”
He double-clicked on another icon.
Launching hundreds of fully armed drones.
90
Yangcheon District
Seoul, Republic of Korea
Dawson held a hand against his forehead, shielding his eyes from the evening sun. And frowned. Niner had just emerged carrying what appeared to be a lifeless body. He squinted, trying to make out who it was, glancing over at the ladies climbing into the choppers.
Who’s missing?
Then it dawned on him.
The South Korean officer, Kim.
“He asked her out.”
Dawson’s head spun toward Nancy Starling, she having slipped away from the group of older women. “Excuse me?”
“He asked her out, you know, like on a date.” She smiled, a sad, wistful one. “The drones were shooting at us, everyone was screaming, and he asked her out.” Tears filled her eyes. “Wh-who does that?”
Dawson smiled. “He does.”
She nodded, a tear escaping down each cheek. “He’s so awesome.”
Dawson looked at his friend, the pain on his face clear. “He definitely is.”
“And you know, he’s not gay.”
Dawson stared at her, his eyes wide. “Huh?”
Her face paled, a shaky hand pointing toward Niner. Dawson turned and gasped as dozens of drones emerged through the open doors.
Followed by hundreds more.
“Get down!”
Niner glanced behind him and cursed, dropping to his knees, placing Kim on the ground as gently as he could as he threw his body over hers. The drones opened fire, some tilting forward as they gained speed, giving their weapons a chance to get an angle on them, dozens of rounds ricocheting off the pavement.
He hugged her and squeezed his eyes shut as he placed a gentle, first kiss on her forehead.
“Looks like neither of us are getting out of this.”
“Open fire!”
Dawson took a knee and set his MP5 to full auto, belching lead at the wall of drones, the others doing the same. Drone after drone dropped, but there were just too many.
Atlas shuffled over beside him, firing a grenade over Niner’s head and into the entrance. “How the hell are they being controlled? I thought Langley killed the cell network?”
Dawson activated his comm, continuing to fire. “Control, Zero-One! We’re under attack by the drones. I thought you took out the cell network, over!”
“We did, Zero-One. It’s still down. They must have set up a satellite relay. Look for a tower, probably on the roof of the warehouse. Something that looks out of place.”
Dawson scanned the roof, spotting an array of antennae with a small dish aimed skyward. “Got it. Stand by.” He turned to the others. “Take out that tower at the one-four corner!”
All firepower immediately redirected, Dawson slapping a grenade into his launcher and firing, Atlas doing the same, both hitting the corner of the building as the drones swept over Niner, toward their position.
And the hostages.
They’re targeting the girl.
The tower tilted, the corner weakened, yet the drones continued.
“Hit it again!” he ordered as he reloaded, Spock and Jimmy firing. The first round blasted apart the wall, the second hitting the tower square on, ripping it to shreds. The drones abruptly lost altitude, slamming into the ground and skidding toward them before coming to a halt.
Dawson leaped to his feet. “Destroy them all while we’ve got the chance!” He switched to semi-auto and advanced, putting two rounds into each of the drones as his team spread out, forming a line, making sure not a single drone escaped their retribution.
As they approached Niner’s position, he looked at his friend who was now on his knees, checking the Korean woman’s pulse.
His shoulders slumped.
Oh no!
Niner slowly turned Kim’s lifeless face toward him, brushing the hair from her eyes, tears welling in his own. He barely knew her, yet there had been a connection there, probably artificial, created by the adrenaline of the situation, though it didn’t make it any easier. The gunfire around him was mere thuds, as if he were at the bottom of a pool of anguish, the real world above the surface, a surface that right now he had no interest in participating in.
Someone grabbed his shoulder.
Dawson.
“You okay?”
Niner shook his head. “I’ll live.”
Dawson knelt and checked Kim’s pulse for himself, confirming what he already knew. “I’m sorry, buddy.”
Jimmy rushed over and cursed as he saw her body. “Oh, dude, I’m sorry.”
Niner inhaled deeply and rose, tearing his eyes away, instead focusing on Dawson. “Do we know who’s behind this?”
Dawson smiled slightly. “We do now. His name’s Grant Riker.”
The thirst for revenge grew a thousand fold in the pit of his stomach, hatred written on his face.
“Nobody touches him but me.”
91
Seocho District
Seoul, Republic of Korea
“Look!”
Red spun toward where Wings was pointing and smiled, a large contingent of South Korean regulars moving toward them. He handed his weapon to one of the Marines then stepped out from their cover, hands up high, smile on his face, as he tried to look as far from threatening as possible.
“I am Special
Agent Grey, United States Secret Service. I have the President of the United States with me. We require assistance.”
A Major stepped forward as a dozen weapons were trained on Red, more troops surging into the area, taking up covering positions, gun battles raging across the city, the artillery barrage continuing, though abating. The Major spoke into his radio as several tracked Armored Personnel Carriers rumbled into the intersection. He nodded to no one, then stepped toward Red.
“Agent Grey, I have orders to escort you to Evac Point Echo. American forces are waiting there.” He snapped an order in Korean, the weapons immediately redirected at the buildings surrounding them, snipers a concern. He shouted something else and one of the APCs rolled forward then suddenly spun around, its rear ramp lowering. “Please.” He motioned toward the armored vehicle.
Red turned to the others, Starling pressed into the side of a building by his team, a human shield several bodies deep. “Let’s move, now! Into the back of the APC!”
Wings grabbed Starling by the arm and they rushed forward, the rest providing cover as the South Koreans joined in, flesh, bravado, and Red’s body armor, protecting the most powerful man on Earth as they rushed toward the gaping rear of the APC.
Gunshots rang out at the end of the street and the South Koreans returned a heavy stream of fire as they pressed forward. Red took up position at the rear of the APC as Wings shoved Starling inside, pushing him all the way to the back as the Marines piled in, Red last, the APC immediately rolling forward as the ramp closed.
Red activated his comm. “Control, Zero-Two. Everclear is secure, I repeat, Everclear is secure. We are proceeding to Evac Point Echo, over.”
“Copy that, Zero-Two. Hostages have been secured, all alive.”
Smiles were exchanged when Red realized that the President didn’t have comms. He leaned toward the man, the APC tracks loud on the pavement. “Mr. President, they’ve rescued your daughter!”
Kill Chain Page 20
