Brandis smiled. “Do it.”
“Aye, Captain.” The XO turned, barking orders to the crew. “Conn, make your course two-eight-zero, speed ten knots.”
“Conn, aye, making course two-eight-zero, speed ten knots.”
“Sound collision alarm!”
“Sounding collision alarm, aye!”
An alarm blared, another chill racing up Jack’s spine, he only ever having heard the alarm in training. And no matter how confident the XO sounded with his fly on a windshield analogy, he had to wonder what might happen if he was wrong.
What if it’s loaded with explosives?
“Conn reading two-eight-zero. Speed ten knots!”
Jack flinched as Captain Brandis’ voice sounded inches from his ear, he not noticing his CO leaning in.
“Now let’s see what she does. Continue pinging her.”
“Aye, Captain.”
The echo became more rapid as they closed the distance. The three hundred yards quickly became two, then one, the reverberations nearly constant now.
“Any sign of evasive maneuvers?”
“Negative, Captain, she hasn’t changed course or speed.” He glanced up at Brandis. “But she’s civilian, sir, maybe they don’t know what to do.”
Brandis tipped his head momentarily to the side. “Oh well, that’s his problem, not ours.”
“Aye, Captain.” Jack watched his display. “Impact in five… four… three… two… one… impact!”
The ship shuddered a moment later. Slightly. There was definitely significant noise, though no alarms sounded, no pipes burst, and if they had wipers, he had the distinct impression the Captain would turn them on.
“Status?”
Jack examined his readings, his heart racing. “She’s surfacing, sir!”
The XO waved a tablet computer. “It has an emergency system built in that forces it to the surface if anything goes wrong.”
“I guess seven thousand tons of warship slamming into you counts as something going wrong.”
The XO grinned. “Aye, I guess it does.”
The Captain jerked a thumb toward the surface. “Let’s join him and introduce Mr. Riker to our brig.”
98
Over the Yellow Sea
“What do you mean it’s empty?”
The Black Hawk pilot glanced back at Dawson, he receiving an update over his headset. “That’s just it, sir. The USS Chicago reports that the mini-sub is empty, and it doesn’t look like anyone was ever inside.”
Dawson felt his face burn with anger. “Then he’s still on that yacht. Turn us around!”
“Yes, sir!”
The pilot banked hard to port, radioing an update to Command, the other choppers following suit. It didn’t take long to catch up to their quarry, it once again skipping across the waves, heading for China.
“How far are we from Chinese waters?”
“Less than ten klicks from what they like to claim.”
“Shit. Order them to stop immediately!”
“Hawk Zero-Two is already trying to, sir. They’re ignoring our hails.”
“Get the Apache to stop them.”
“No can do, sir, they had to return to base, low on fuel.”
Niner cursed, stepping past Dawson and hauling the door open. “Get me beside them!”
Dawson let the man do his thing, he about to do the same regardless. The pilot complied and Niner put a foot out on the skid, raising his MP5. He emptied a mag into the front portion of the deck, it impossible for the crew to miss the invitation to stop.
The ship swerved and Niner reloaded, firing into the hull, near the water line, Hawk 02’s orders to halt still going ignored.
Dawson shook his head. “They know they’re close. Distance?”
“Eight klicks.”
Niner reloaded. “Permission to put some rounds into the bridge.”
“Do it.”
He fired, glass shattering, the boat swerving away once again, now actually headed in the wrong direction.
It quickly lost momentum, coming to a halt as the crew rushed onto the deck, one of them covered in blood. Hawk 02 took up station about fifty feet off the port bow, its weapons aimed at the crew as Dawson’s chopper positioned itself over the deck, his team once again rappelling down, Niner taking point this time.
He rushed toward the captain, shoving the hot barrel of his MP5 into the Captain’s throat. The man cried out in pain, Dawson hearing the sizzle as he approached. “Where is he!”
The Captain said nothing as he dropped to his knees, yet his eyes spoke volumes, darting toward the rear of the boat. Niner hauled him up, shoving him toward the rear, the muzzle pressed hard against the man’s back.
“Where!”
A shaky hand pointed to the dive platform and Dawson spotted a rope going over the rear of the boat along with a thick, black hose.
Niner spotted it too, shoving the captain aside and tossing his MP5 to Jimmy before grabbing the rope and pulling. A few feet were hauled in before Niner began to yank on it, it not budging.
The Captain stepped forward. “He strapped in. It special escape system built for owner.” The Captain actually appeared ashamed. “China not safe.”
Niner glared at him. “Is he getting his air through this hose?”
The man nodded.
Niner stomped a heel on the line and looked at Dawson. “He needs air, doesn’t he?”
Dawson chuckled, activating his comm. “Control, Zero-One. Get me the President, over.”
“Roger that, Zero-One. Stand by.”
There was a pause then the sound of shuffling.
“This is the President.”
“Mr. President, we’re about to have the target in custody. Can you confirm he is still on the Termination List?”
Riker suddenly burst from the water, grabbing onto the dive platform then flopping onto his back. He ripped off the helmet he was wearing as his chest heaved for oxygen.
And there was no hesitation from Starling.
“Confirmed, Sergeant Major. He’s at the top of the list.”
Niner looked at Dawson who nodded, and his friend, his heart filled with vengeance, pulled his Glock and stepped forward, putting two rounds in Riker’s head.
99
Outside Qingdau, China
Kane stood at the foot of Hang Jian’s bed, feeling a lot better than during his last visit. Three young, nubile women were draped over the fat bastard whose help had made all of Riker’s efforts possible, and by extension, had led to the deaths of thousands in Seoul and across the entire Korean peninsula.
He reached down and squeezed a painted toe.
The girl stirred, rubbing her eyes before opening them, she clearly hung over—probably the only way she could bring herself to sleep with her benefactor.
She gasped.
He flicked his gun toward the door.
She woke the others and the bed quickly emptied, leaving Hang to slowly stir.
He opened his eyes and bolted upright then fell back down, his stomach acting like a medicine ball, preventing him from sitting up. He groaned in agony, grabbing his freshly bandaged shoulder.
“You forgot to mention the yacht.” Kane slowly, deliberately, made a show of screwing a suppressor into place.
Hang’s eyes bulged. “I-I didn’t know. I swear! I rented it, yes, but I didn’t know to who!”
“Not true.” Kane finished threading the suppressor. “My friends checked your accounts, and you received no additional payments that might be a yacht rental. That means it was part of the original agreement. That means you’re responsible for what happened.”
Hang scrambled back in his bed, coming to rest against his leather wrapped headboard. He raised his hands out in front of him. “Please, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I had no idea what they were going to do, I swear! I know it was wrong, I know that now, but at the time, I just wanted the money.” His chin fell to his chest, his eyes closing. “It was greed.” He stared up at Kan
e. “Please, have mercy.”
“All you had to do was tell me the truth.” He gave the suppressor one last, unnecessary though dramatic, twist. “But you didn’t.”
“These are dangerous people! I couldn’t. They would have killed me.”
Kane shook his head. “Actually, he was a dangerous person.”
Hang’s eyes narrowed. “He? You mean this was all just one person?”
Kane nodded. “Yes. And he’s dead.”
Hang breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God.” He smiled. “Then I’m safe!”
Kane chuckled. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
100
Gimhae International Airport
Busan, Republic of Korea
With a chirp, Air Force One left the ground, the Boeing VC25A quickly gaining altitude as the pilot executed an emergency evac procedure, comfort tossed to the wayside as speed was of the essence.
The sooner they were out of Korean airspace, the sooner they were out of missile range.
Dawson was confident the danger was now over, however. The shelling had stopped, both sides having taken a pounding, particularly the North. The President had made certain the message had gone out the moment the hostages were secured, that the North had no involvement whatsoever in the events that had triggered what might one day be called a war, its death toll certainly meriting the title.
This announcement had resulted in an immediate ceasefire by the North, who took the magnanimous gesture, claiming they were the better half of the two warring parties. They were of course denying they were about to buckle under the weight of the massive pounding they had received, the South having taken to hammering Pyongyang with zeal once the artillery targeting Seoul had been mostly eliminated.
Whether peace might be the end result was anyone’s guess.
His money was on the status quo, though he suspected the North’s saber wouldn’t rattle quite so strongly for years now that they would have to rebuild their forces.
The South and her allies had suffered minimal losses on the military side of things, but it was the civilian casualties that were heartbreaking. Thousands of warheads of varying types and sizes had hammered the capital, and due to the instant, all-out bombardment with no warning, millions had been caught in the streets.
Thousands, probably tens of thousands, were dead, many more wounded, and much of the city was in ruins.
It would take years to recover.
And the families, those that had paid the ultimate price in blood, never would.
You can rebuild a house, but it is the laughter and love of those that were lost, that truly make it a home.
Now might be the time to move the capital.
Yet it was one thing to move the government south, it was another to move ten million people, ten million proud, strong people, who called Seoul their home.
Ten million people he was certain would be even more attached to their city now that it had been paid for with blood.
There were still small pockets of resistance within the city, some of the fifth column still fighting to the death it would seem, though the greater fear was that many had simply disappeared into the background, deciding to live to fight another day. Dawson just hoped that the crackdown to find these people wouldn’t destroy the sometimes-fragile democracy that was the Republic of Korea, its democracy only a few decades old.
One easy target, though, had been the private security company. They had been raided, and before Air Force One had lifted off, Dawson had received word that the company had confirmed they had been hired to set up the warehouse, including the automated weapons platforms, pocketing almost two-hundred-thousand-dollars to do so.
If Korea has a death penalty, I think it just might get used.
With everything that had happened, he was thankful that his team had made it out unscathed, the President and his daughter safe, though they still had paid a heavy price.
They had lost chopper crews, civilian staffers, and Secret Service personnel.
And Niner had lost a friend.
He looked over at the man, staring out the window, his best friend Jimmy sitting silently by his side, there if the proud warrior needed to talk, but wisely holding his tongue until he was ready.
He’ll get over it.
From what he understood from young Nancy, it had been the beginnings of a whirlwind romance, one that would have been impossible to sustain, though the reality of what might have been, made the pain of what was, no less harsh.
When we get home, we’ll damage some brain cells, remember our fallen, then shove it down, deep.
He had so much buried baggage, sometimes he wondered if there was room for any more. They had all lost friends, comrades, loved ones. When he thought he had lost Maggie, he had lost control, stepping into the horde of rampaging Muslims, not caring if he lived or died, only that he kill as many of them as he could.
But she had lived.
And he might have died, leaving her alone.
Niner getting the opportunity to kill Riker, to kill the man responsible, would hopefully give him some closure, though it would never completely take away the pain.
Time would do that.
Nancy Starling appeared in the hallway leading to the front of the plane. She smiled at him then spotted Niner. She walked over to his seat, Jimmy saying something quietly before vacating his spot. Niner looked and weakly smiled at the girl. She sat beside him and gave him a long, hard hug, tears flowing down her cheeks, she sharing the pain of his loss, she too having suffered more than any fifteen-year-old should.
They’d both get over their loss, she yet again of her innocence, he of the short but intense romance consisting of only a few hours and a single kiss delivered to a lifeless body.
He turned away, giving them their privacy.
“My dad wants to meet you,” he heard Nancy say. Niner grunted, and they both rose, disappearing down the hall.
That family has been through too much.
Riker had tried to destroy them but had failed. Nancy was alive, Starling was alive, and only twenty some odd million had been lost, probably to never be seen again, though if he knew Langley, they’d be scouring the hardware they had retrieved to track it down.
The remaining of the three billion had already been removed from the charities’ accounts. They’d see curious, anonymous deposits then withdrawals on their next statements, though they’d never know where they had come from.
Riker’s hopes of destroying the President’s reputation had been foiled, and the press was reacting well to him having stayed behind for his daughter.
His presidency would survive.
And he had no doubt the bond between father and daughter would be even stronger.
101
President’s Office, Air Force One
Nancy stepped into her dad’s office, Niner in tow. Her father appeared tired, though happy to see him.
“Daddy, you remember Niner?”
Her father pushed a half-eaten slice of apple pie with ice cream aside then rose, a smile spreading across his face as he rounded his desk, his hand extended. “Of course I do.” He shook Niner’s hand. “I understand I have you to thank for saving my daughter.”
A subdued Niner shook his head. “A lot of good people were involved, a lot of good lives lost.”
Her father’s smile disappeared, he nodding slowly. “Yes, I understand from my daughter that you lost someone special.”
Niner nodded. “Could have been, but I guess I’ll never know.”
Her father, she was sure, could sense Niner wanted to be anywhere but here, talking about Yunhui Kim. He patted the soldier on his shoulder. “Nonetheless, I thank you, and I’ll thank the others later. I’ll let you get back to your friends.”
“Thank you, Mr. President.”
Niner turned to leave and Nancy moved to follow him when her father held out a hand. “I have something to discuss with you.”
She felt butterflies.
Niner
left, saying nothing.
“Close the door.”
Her stomach flipped.
She complied.
He motioned to a couch and she sat down, he perched on the edge of his desk. “So, the Secret Service arrested someone earlier today.”
She breathed a sigh of relief, there no one she knew who could be arrested, especially Jeff. “Umm, who?”
“Someone you may know.”
Her confidence took a hit and she felt her body start to tense.
“Why don’t you tell me all about Jeff.”
Her shoulders slumped, her jaw dropping. “You arrested him!”
“Yes.”
“Aww, Dad!”
102
Maggie Harris Residence
Lake in the Pines Apartments, Fayetteville, North Carolina
Vanessa lay curled up in the corner of the couch, drifting in and out of sleep when her phone vibrated in her hand. She stared at it, her eyes barely able to focus. Most of the others had gone home, only Shirley and Bryson remaining in Maggie’s apartment, Shirley deciding it was best not to wake the boy, and, Vanessa was sure, wanting to help Maggie keep the newest member of the group calm.
Hey babe, awake yet?
She bolted upright. “It’s Leon!”
The other two stirred, Maggie mumbling a warning. “Be careful how you reply. Remember, it’s a secret.”
She nodded, fumbling to type a response.
Yes, you ok?
The response was almost immediate.
Yup, just another boring day. I’ll be home later tonight your time. Love you.
Vanessa breathed a sigh of relief, smiling at the others.
Love you too. Can’t wait to see you.
She reached for Maggie and gave her a hug. “He’s okay!”
“What did he say?”
“Just another boring day!”
They all laughed, Maggie shaking her head. “Those guys should try being the wives for a day!”
THE END
Kill Chain Page 22
