Man of Honor

by Chris Malburg

  Down below in Central Park, the SAD team silently moved from tree to tree. Still oblivious to what was going on above them. Jack felt the grip of his rubber-soled boots on the shiny, new marble floor. “Careful about squeaking noises with your boots,” he whispered into his com link. The ship’s interior was immense. All lit up and in the daylight it would be colorful and magnificent. Now it was dark as a tomb.

  The first burst of automatic gunfire came from inside Johnny Rocket’s diner and was aimed at the SAD team. Through his NV goggles, Jack saw the SAD team immediately disappear behind the trees.

  More automatic weapons fire rained down from the Chinese on the sixth floor into the SAD team.

  “Boss,” whispered Smitty, “let’s do something.”

  “You’re up, sweetie,” Jack said. His pulse slowed along with his perceived speed of the action. Combat is like that. Be quick, but don’t hurry the shot. Make every movement count.

  Helen immediately stepped up front, beside Jack. She shouldered her Barrett sniper rifle and expertly cycled the bolt to chamber a round. Jack looked over her shoulder as she glassed Johnny Rockets’ interior. They were two levels above Central Park and exactly opposite the diner. A perfect sighting lane. There was a two-second pause then a loud BOOM rocked her back as the Lapua 7.65mm NATO round exited the barrel. Another two-second pause while she lined up the next shot, then BOOM! In all, Helen fired four times, each with devastating accuracy. No more gunfire came from Johnny Rockets’.

  “How’s the shoulder, hon?” Jack asked.

  “Aren’t you a love? I hiked up my body armor like you said to absorb some of the Bravo’s kick.”

  Rounds from Jack and the rest of them peppered the sixth-floor balcony where the Chinese State Security team was. Still, the Chinese were as good as Crypto warned. They returned fire with such ferocity, it seemed to be coming from ten men rather than five.

  Rounds streaked by Jack’s head. Ricochets bounced from the ship’s bulkhead to bulkhead as if in a steel barrel.

  One hit Jack in the shoulder of his Kevlar vest, spinning him around. The bullet’s searing heat burned into his skin. “Geeze, that smarts.”

  “Jack! Get down!” Helen shouted.

  “Okay. I’m okay.” He shook his head trying to shake off the pain.

  “The hell you are, Jack. Take one deep breath. Now another—”

  “No. I really am okay.”

  “Sure you are.” Helen lay the Barrett on the marble floor and grabbed her husband. “I have you, sweetie. Let’s get you down. Hold still. Let me take a damage assessment.”

  “Now?”

  Her left hand insistently pressed him back onto the floor. Her right poked and prodded with one finger beneath the vest. “That hurt? How about that?”

  “Christ. Easy there hon.”

  Helen examined her finger. “No blood. How does your shoulder feel?”

  “Like someone whacked it with a goddamn hammer.”

  “You’ll live, sweetie.” Then she snaked a finger beneath the vest again, this time pushing up through the bullet hole. The deformed, now mushroom-shaped round popped out, and then fell to the marble with a lead thud.

  Jack grabbed it with his good hand, “Still warm.” He winked at her and put it in his pocket. Jack snatched up his M4 and aimed back down one deck at the Chinese State Security team.

  Gallagher had his M4 shot right out of his hands. He quickly grabbed the Smith & Wesson pistol Jack gave him earlier and was right back in the fight picking his targets then firing.

  “The SAD team sure knows we’re here now,” Smitty said over the com link. “They just don’t know who we are or why we’re here. Thanks to Helen, now we have the Chinese State Security boys in a vise.”

  Jack, Smitty, CIA, Gallagher, Crypto, and Helen all fired down and across the atrium at the black-clad State Security police. It was hopeless for them. They took fire from Jack’s group above and from the SAD team below them. Then round after booming round echoing throughout the steel hull abruptly stopped. The Chinese had moved back their position to rest and regroup.

  “The SAD team doesn’t know if we’re friendlies or not,” Crypto said.

  Jack looked down at the trees in Central Park. “What’s your real name,” he asked Crypto. “You did some good work here.”

  “Adams, Todd Adams.”

  Jack looked at him. “Smitty introduced you as Crypto. We thought it was your call sign. We all have call signs. So Todd Adams is Crypto’s real-life name?”

  “What’s your call sign?” Crypto asked.

  “Started out as Retaliator. But the guys kept screwing it up. So they shortened it to just Retail. Back to work, Crypto. How do we make contact with SAD and avoid getting ourselves shot? They’re amped up and switched on. Far as they know, we’re hostiles.”

  CIA joined the small circle of Jack’s group. “There’s a code I think the SAD guys use. Not certain, but I think it is ‘Black Mambo.’”

  “That’s not just any snake,” Helen said, enthusiastically leaning into the circle.

  “Yeah, hon,” Jack said. “I know. You had a pet python when you were a little girl. Her name was Peaches. So how do we get the goddamn snake word to them? They’re not on our com net. Shouting it across Central Park might get us shot unless the Chinese are deaf.”

  “You guys are ex-Navy, right?” Crypto asked. “Just use your Morse code. Take my tactical flashlight. Beam it down to them.”

  “Smitty, why don’t you do the honors?” Jack asked.

  “Me? I don’t remember any of that. I was concentrating on blowing shit up. You go ahead, Retail.”

  Jack sat for a moment. Why me? I was terrible at that stuff. Whatever I send to them might just piss them off.

  “Oh, for Christ sake,” Gallagher interrupted. “Hand me that flashlight, Crypto.”

  Gallagher examined the tactical flashlight. “Not your run of the mill Eveready.” He worked the focus ring on the barrel to narrow the beam to a small point. Then he rolled the color wheel to red. Next, he extended a hand over the railing and began pressing the button. He repeated the Black Mambo code word three times.

  “They got it,” Jack said. A red dot blinked on and off down among the trees. “What’re they saying?”

  “They repeated the code word. Then ordered us down to Central Park next to the Vitality juice bar.”

  “Tell them okay,” Jack said. “Let’s move. Slowly. We don’t want to make any threatening moves. They took a lot of incoming fire. Probably still jittery. I would be.”

  The whole of Central Park appeared deserted to Jack. The battlefield always does, he thought. Until the shooting starts. A red light blinked several times in a dense copse of shrubbery twenty yards in.

  “Stop,” Gallagher said. “They’ll come to us.”

  “Weapons at low ready,” Jack said to his small team.

  From behind the nearest tree—just five feet away—came, “Black Mambo? Who goes?”

  “Friendlies,” Jack said. “We saw you needed some help. We have one of your own—”

  “Son of a bitch. Retail? Is that you?”

  “Yeah? Who’s that?”

  “Hey guys, guess who’s come to save our sorry asses.” Three more of the SAD team stepped from behind their tree cover and approached, weapons also at the low ready.

  They quickly moved to the cover inside Johnny Rockets diner. Smitty and Crypto explained what they were doing there and why. Jack saw Li Yong’s parents tied to chairs, their mouths duck taped. “Helen, how much time left until Li Yong’s next attack?”

  Helen looked at her watch in the dim light. “One hour. Let’s get Mom and Dad untied and make that phone call.”

  “What is the meaning?” demanded the General. “I am a high-ranking officer in the Chinese People’s Liberation Army. Mother and I are on a secret mission for Xi BigBig himself. I swear—”

  “Sir,” Jack said, “if you will just allow me to take off your flex cuffs—”

  “Do
not touch me American pig. And most certainly you will not touch Mother.”

  Helen walked over to Mother. “Ma’am we mean you no harm. We are here to unite you with Li Yong that’s all. I will get him on the phone for you. He can explain the circumstances to you better than I. But won’t you be more comfortable if I free your hands and feet from those zip ties?”

  All talking and movement in the diner stopped as the men looked at Mother for her answer.

  She spoke passable English, “I suppose that might be alright. The People’s national security will not suffer if you unbind me. I wish to stand and walk a bit if I may. We’ve sat here for hours with nothing to eat or drink.”

  “There, General Yong,” Jack said. “Your wife is cooperating. How about I cut you free?”

  Father silently thrust out his bound hands.

  “What’ll you have, Retail?” one of the SAD boys asked.

  Jack turned away from Li Yong’s mother and father and peered through the darkened diner toward the open kitchen. Then he smelled the cooking. “What’s good, Diego?”

  Diego Sanchez was an Army Ranger before the CIA tagged him for its Special Activities Division. He was the shortest of the SAD operators but their deadliest behind a riflescope. “Before I entered government service I was a line cook in one of these diners. I can make you anything you want, man. Chimichangas, Philly Cheese Steak, fries, onion rings, burgers—fixings for all kinds of burgers.”

  “They have all that stuff back there?”

  “Yeah, man. Everything. This ship is ready to sail right into the American market.”

  “Ma’am, does any of that sound appealing to you?” Helen asked Mother, her arm protectively around the elderly woman. “I’m sure Diego can make you a salad—”

  Li Yong’s mother perked right up, “One whiz wit, please.”

  “All right Mrs. Y,” Diego exclaimed.

  “What did she just order?” Helen asked.

  “You don’t know Philly, do you? Mrs. Y asked for one Philly Cheese Steak with cheese whiz and fried onions.”

  “Make that two, but hold the onions on mine,” Helen said.

  “That would be one whiz wit-out. Flattop’s hot. Gimme three minutes.”

  “They’re both right here,” Helen said into her secure satellite phone. “Give your dad a second to swallow. He’s eating a burger and fries…okay? Here he is.”

  Father set his hamburger down on the plate, wiped his hands on a napkin, then picked up the cell phone. “What is the meaning of this my usually respectful son? Allowing us to be taken to this ghost ship by armed thugs. Then your men have to fight their way in to rescue us?”

  “You are not hurt, are you?” Li Yong asked.

  “We are fine. And my only hope is that Xi BigBig is equally as fine and resting comfortably this evening.” Father handed the cell phone over to Mother, then picked up his burger and resumed eating.

  “Do not worry, Li Yong. We are fine,” said Mother. “I am enjoying a wonderful whiz wit.”

  “A Philly Cheese Steak?”

  “Delicious. When will you join us? We must continue our mission for Xi BigBig on behalf of the People.”

  “Please, put Helen back on the line.”

  Mother held out the cell phone to Helen then dived back into her sandwich.

  “How could you let them eat that high-fat poison? American style fast food is awful for people their ages.”

  “Your mom is right,” Helen said, “this is delicious. On to logistics. You now believe that we have your folks safe and can deliver them to you?”

  “Yes.”

  Helen bit into a single French fry. “And I have your assurance that you will not allow another of your computer attacks to launch?”

  “You have my word. But you must now get all three of us out.”

  “Did you get enough to eat, Retail?” asked Diego.

  “I’m good,” Jack said. “Listen guys, there’s something you need to know.” Jack was close enough to the four-man SAD team that he could make out their facial expressions even in the dark. He motioned Gallagher to take a chair at the diner’s white Formica table.

  “I’ve been in this business 25 years,” Gallagher said. “And I’ve investigated over 500 aircraft accidents.” He filled them in on the airline crashes and the NYC train crashes.

  “No shit?” a SAD operator said. “And these two oldsters have something to do with it?”

  Gallagher shook his head, “Just caught in the cross-fire.” He described the Chinese Central Committee’s orders and the PLA’s computer attack division headed by Colonel Li Yong.

  “Complicated, I know,” Jack interrupted. “But stay with us here.” Jack brought the SAD operators up to speed on the attacks. They couldn’t believe that the attacks so far were just the practice rounds. That when they launch the Full Monty it will devastate America’s way of life having anything to do with a computer.

  “She-yit,” said one SAD operator.

  Gallagher took over. “Maybe Li Yong can stop most of the attacks. Problem is he can’t do it here in China.” Gallagher explained the need to rendition Li Yong to NYPD’s Intelligence Division & Counter-Terrorism Bureau. “He and his folks go as a package. They don’t go, he won’t stop the attacks. He knows he’s going to prison for what he did. He just wants to make up to his folks.”

  “See our problem, guys?” Jack asked.

  The four SAD operators nodded. The leader said, “Our orders are to bring the parents and Li Yong into CIA custody for debriefing in the US and immediate trial.”

  Jack picked up his strawberry milkshake and drew on its straw. “You got your orders from the DCIA. He got them directly from the President. We don’t have anything like that. In fact, the President specifically told me to stand down. He wants Homeland as the lead on this with the other agencies acting as support.”

  Silence descended on the small table. “Damn,” said the SAD leader. “You’re right about Homeland. When we left the CIA, FBI, and some other agencies were fighting over who does what. Probably still pissing on one another to make themselves look good. Retail, you’re all about getting in, doing the job, getting out. And you’re happy if no one ever knows you were even there.”

  Jack nodded. “This is a decision only you boys can make: Follow your orders and maybe cause the deaths of thousands when all US transport crashes. Not to mention the effects on US financial institutions, oil pipelines and an entire energy infrastructure going down. Who knows what’ll happen then? Or throw in with us and pool our resources. You led us to Li Yong’s parents. Without your help, we’re dead in the water. We can bring Li Yong in with just a phone call—something you cannot do. Here’s your chance to do what the pencil-necked bureaucrats cannot. If you decide not to help I just ask that you stand aside and not hinder us.” Jack looked into each of the four men’s eyes. “We have a com link with Li Yong. We can bring him to us, then leave immediately.”

  The SAD operators turned away from Jack and whispered among themselves. “Hell no!” the squad leader said looking straight at Jack. “It’s about time we took the battle out of the politician’s hands. Besides, you haven’t thought far enough ahead, Retail. When you get the Colonel to New York, he just may have an angry reception committee waiting for him. You’ll need our extra firepower. May as well put it to its intended use.”

  * * *

  Chapter 33

  Li Yong disconnected the call on his cell phone. He scanned the darkened waterfront warehouse. Helen had just confirmed this was the one. Her GPS coordinates matched the map now on the cell phone screen. They were just a ten-minute run through the shadows from this hide. Slow down, he cautioned himself.

  He pocketed the encrypted phone, crouching behind a grease-smelling forklift parked next to a load of freshly cut lumber stacked on the dock. No lights. What’s she talking about? This warehouse looks like every other corrugated steel structure around here. Probably housed the parts and equipment during the construction of Princess Fan
tasy. What’s so special about this warehouse? The toe of his boot scuffed over one of the rail tracks embedded in the cracked asphalt. Loose stones and sand sprayed out from his stumbling feet. Just what I need—going down with a broken wrist. He looked up from his kneeling position.

  The giant cruise ship’s silhouette loomed up over the dock. Its enormous length ran out of the weak dockside light, disappearing into the darkness beyond. The world knew of this immense ship. It had taken three years to construct. It was finished six months ago. Then began the exhaustive sea trials. Of course, she passed without breaking a sweat—at least, that’s what the state-owned shipping company who built her told the media. There was no secret about its upcoming maiden voyage. It had taken months to complete the massive stocking of all the things such a modern city at sea required. Now she sat silent, awaiting her crew to bring her to life.

  Li Yong scurried around the back to the warehouse’s giant rolling door, just as Helen had told him. He tried the knob on the adjacent door. Unlocked. This American agent who called herself Helen was one remarkable woman. He stared into the vast darkness. So that’s what makes this particular warehouse special. Out of the interior gloom, the gray silhouette of an antique seaplane stood facing the huge rolling door.

  A faint glint of light shone way off in the darkness. Li Yong heard the soft scrape of rubber-soled boots on the warehouse floor’s concrete. Unmistakable. He looked down at his own boots. It was the same sound they had made just minutes before as he stumbled across the rail tracks.

  Friend or foe? he wondered. The glint of light from the open door lasted for over a half minute. Up until a year ago, he counted every soldier in the PLA his comrade. And now? He was sure the Chairman had ordered his arrest—more likely execution—after he went missing four days ago. Their shadows moved through the open doorway. The untailored drape of their uniforms left no doubt. So too, the distinctive downward sloping neck shield of the tactical helmets they wore, silhouetted against the meager light from the open door.

  Li Yong fumbled with his cell phone. The open metal door softly shut on the last soldier as they headed out toward the brand new ship. One ring. Answer, damn it. Two rings. “Helen?”