Death Minus Zero

by Don Pendleton

  Hawkins stepped back. He pushed the Tanto back in its sheath, picked up the guy’s subgun and ejected the magazine to join the other ammunition in his pocket.

  The Chinese slid over sideways, facedown in the bloody snow, his body still trembling. Hawkins turned away and moved on, not looking back. He didn’t need to see the dead guy again.

  He gripped the subgun in his hands.

  It had to be done. No time for regrets. A kill in cold blood was never a pleasant matter. It always came down to a choice. Him or you. Hesitate and the victory would go to the enemy. It still didn’t mean it was easy to contain. The image lingered. The look in the guy’s eyes as he went down...the shock...the onset of death. A man couldn’t kill that way and not feel the moment...

  Hawkins felt for his com set and tapped the button.

  “Almost on target,” he said quietly.

  “Wait for my signal,” McCarter said.

  “Waiting.”

  Hawkins clicked off.

  He came to the edge of the wall and pressed against it to check the house frontage. It was clear. He followed the length of the wall to the front entrance. His goal.

  His next stop...

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Gary Manning picked up the Saab 9-3 as it pulled out of the parking area and made a slow turn onto the street.

  “Target vehicle is just leaving the supermarket parking area. Vehicle identified. Three Asian occupants. License number just like Buchanan said.”

  “Copy that,” James said. “Okay, I see it. On the main street and heading out of town. He’s driving slowly. Pick me up just beyond the traffic lights.”

  Manning turned along the main street and cruised until he picked out James’s tall figure at the curb on the far side of the lights. He slowed the SUV and pulled in to allow his partner to join him. James dropped on the passenger seat, slamming the door. He shook the snow off his cap and shoulders.

  “Bro, next time it’s your turn. Man, it’s chilly out there.”

  Manning rolled the SUV forward, two vehicles behind the Saab.

  “I thought you were from Chicago,” he said. “Used to cold weather.”

  “You think I ever got used to it?” James grinned. “Hell, Gary, that’s rich coming from a Canadian.”

  The com set in James’s hand clicked a couple of times. He raised it and made contact.

  “You picked up the opposition?”

  “We’re tracking them out of town right now. We’ll wait until we’re clear before we engage,” James replied.

  “Just make sure they don’t show up back here.”

  “Understood. We’ll attempt to link up once we deal with our trio of Chinese perps. Problem is this damn snow is coming down like never before.”

  “I just heard from Valens. Zero is experiencing some interference with missile control. No idea how serious yet but hearing something like that is bloody scary.”

  “More than scary,” James said. “This is the one thing we don’t need to hear. We’ll see how fast we can shut this end of the deal down.”

  The connection closed. James turned to Manning, who had been listening in.

  “I guess we have the best of a bad situation,” Manning said. “At least for the moment.”

  With the small town falling behind and the road snaking up into the hills, the looming crags of the mountains always in the foreground, the traffic thinned out gradually until the Phoenix Force vehicle was the only vehicle behind the Saab. The snowfall showed no sign of slacking off. As they traveled the wind intensified, pushing at the side of the SUV.

  “That guy behind the wheel is going to spot us in his mirror sooner or later,” Manning said.

  James had drawn his 92FS from his shoulder rig. He ejected the magazine and the bullet already in the breech. He snapped the slide back a couple times to dry-fire the weapon. Satisfied, he replaced the lone shell in the magazine and inserted it into the pistol. He worked the slide again to load, put on the safety and dropped the weapon in his lap. He held out his hand for Manning’s weapon and repeated the check procedure for his partner.

  “What’s going to be their reaction? Grin and bear it—or figure they’ve been made and try to discourage us?”

  Manning said, “I have a feeling it’s going to be the latter.”

  * * *

  GWANG CHI HAD been studying the side-view mirror for some time. Although the falling snow obstructed his overall picture, he was convinced the SUV behind them was following. Chi had a suspicious nature and, with the mission as it was, he refused to relax his stance.

  “The SUV behind us. Gray. It has been there since we left the town.”

  In the back seat Deng Woo craned his neck to check the rear window. “I see it. But this is a public road, Chi.”

  “I am aware of that.”

  In the driver’s seat, the third member of the trio, Gok Kwai, asked, “But you are still unsure?”

  “Only a feeling,” Chi said. “I am sure it fell in behind after we left the parking lot.”

  “Let us assume it is following us,” Woo said. “Is it going to remain there all the way back to the house? Are we going to lead it there?”

  “Good question,” Kwai said.

  “Chi, you are in charge,” Woo pointed out. “You need to make a decision. Colonel Chan would not be best pleased if we led anyone back to the house.”

  “They could be enemy agents,” Kwai said. “Maybe even Americans looking for the man Kaplan.”

  Gwang Chi took out his phone and tapped a speed dial number. He waited for the pickup.

  “Mr. Chan. This is Chi. We may have a problem. It appears we could have someone tailing us.”

  “They followed you from town?”

  “Yes. And they seem to be taking the same route we have taken. With the condition of the road, there is no way we can outrun them.”

  “You must confirm who they are, and if they prove to be an opposition group they must be stopped. Matters here must not be interrupted. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “This is in your hands, Gwang Chi. Do not fail me.”

  Chi put away his phone.

  Woo asked, “What does he want us to do?”

  “If they are the enemy, Chan wants us to stop them.”

  Kwai was unable to hold back a snort of annoyance. “Just as easy as that?”

  “No one said this was to be a holiday,” Woo said.

  Gwang Chi slipped out the pistol he wore under his coat. He carried an 8899 in 88 caliber. His favored weapon.

  Woo took out his own identical make and caliber.

  Kwai deliberately slowed the Saab to see if the car following would pull out and pass. It did not. Instead it reduced speed to match the Saab.

  “He is following us. You see...if I stop, so will he.”

  Chi said, “That sign ahead shows a turn. Take it and stop so we can get out. If that car follows then we will engage.”

  Kwai took the turn without slowing or indicating. He felt the Saab slide a little as it hit the turn. He corrected and as the car straightened it was under his control again. He ran forward a couple hundred yards and then braked. The Saab skidded to a stop and both Woo and Chi began to exit the vehicle as Kwai saw the other vehicle make the turn.

  * * *

  “TWO GOING EVA,” Manning said, braking the SUV.

  “Maybe they’re lost and want directions,” James quipped, reaching for his door handle.

  “I love a funny guy,” Manning said.

  He watched the pair of suited Chinese jump from the Saab and turn to face the SUV. Regardless of the falling snow there was no mistaking the handguns the pair was carrying.

  “Damn,” he said, “these guys are not fu
nning.”

  James worked the handle and pushed his door open, swinging his lean body around as he prepared to exit. His action became the trigger that galvanized the Chinese.

  One of them let loose a pair of shots that hit James’s open door. He heard the solid thump of the slugs, dropped to a crouch and leaned around the edge of the door to return fire. Three fast shots from the 92FS blasted out window glass that showered the Chinese guy. He ducked low, making a quick move to retreat the length of the Saab, and as he exposed himself for a second James fired again. A single shot this time, from a two-handed grip. The retreating Chinese jerked as the 9 mm slug caught him in the shoulder, blowing a bloody hole through the flesh. The man went down on his knees, freezing for a couple of seconds that gave James his follow-up shot. It slammed into the back of the guy’s skull, took his left eye on the way out and pitched him bloody-faced to the snowy ground.

  * * *

  DENG WOO FELL, his face awash with blood from the exit wound.

  Bending forward, Gwang Chi took hold of the subgun lying on the floorboard between the front seats. He cocked the weapon, pushed open his door and stepped out. The subgun crackled with fire, slugs whipping up gouts of snow as they struck the ground feet from Woo’s killer.

  Chi adjusted his aim and raised the line of fire. He raked the SUV where the American still held himself under cover, blowing out the window glass and gouging the panel. He made to fire again. The subgun jammed. Chi worked the cocking lever, raking it back and forth until it spit out the offending bullet.

  * * *

  JAMES FELT LESS protected as the autofire blasted his door. He dropped prone in the snow and rolled clear, angling his Beretta up as the shooter moved the length of the vehicle, frantically wrestling with his subgun.

  Out of ammunition?

  Or simply jammed?

  It made no difference because it allowed James a thin window of opportunity.

  He took it.

  Fixing his target, James rose to his full height and fired, putting two slugs into the man.

  The Chinese jerked under the impact, his grip on the subgun allowing the muzzle to drop. His finger reflexed on the trigger and, with the jam cleared, sent a long burst into the side of the Saab. The slugs tore through the side panel and punctured the fuel tank. In a freak combination one of the slugs ripped through a cable feeding power to the gauge on the tank. Exposed fumes from the gasoline ignited. The reaction was instantaneous; the fumes reaching back into the tank and setting off a blast that rocked the Saab off its rear wheels, fire spreading out and up into the air.

  The flames caught the Chinese, setting his clothes alight. Already in shock from the slugs, the Chinese slid to knees, barely able to beat at the fire eating at him.

  * * *

  GARY MANNING TOOK the opportunity to break clear and head for the Saab. He was watching the guy who had emerged from behind the Saab’s wheel.

  The driver, his autopistol in his hand, used his free hand to fan at the flames as he swiveled his lean body around, desperate to move away from the burning Saab.

  Manning knew the driver had spotted him coming into position and watched as he attempted to gain a target. The Canadian fired first, triggering a trio of shots that ripped into the man’s chest, opening ragged holes in his coat. The Chinese went down, bumping against the side of the Saab as he fell. He landed on his side, spilling bright blood on the snowy ground.

  “Cal?” Manning shouted.

  “Here.” James appeared, slapping at the snow that clung to his coat.

  He joined Manning and they checked out the scene. The rear of the Saab was a mass of flames. Glass had popped under the heat and they could smell burning rubber where the fire had consumed a tire.

  “No chance of coming to an agreement with those guys,” James said.

  They stood and watched the smoke rise from the vehicle. The swirl of gray ashes mingled with the snow that still dropped over the scene. The car would burn for a while until the gasoline was used up.

  “Time we weren’t here,” Manning said.

  James nodded. “Let’s bug out.”

  They climbed back in their SUV. Manning started the vehicle and reversed slowly to the road.

  “Barb is not going to be happy when she has to explain the bullet holes to the rental people.”

  “Think so?”

  Biting wind and snow blew into the SUV through the shattered window, making the drive even more of a problem than it already was.

  Manning and James only had one concern about that. Being able to reach the rest of the team in time...

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  “The connection is gone,” Tien, the tech, said. “Our link to Zero has been broken.”

  “I suggest you get it back,” Chan said.

  “I am trying, sir.”

  “What has happened?” Zhou asked.

  “There appears to be a break in our link to Zero. Let us hope it is temporary.”

  “Perhaps the Americans have restored their control.”

  “Thank you for those encouraging words, Zhou.”

  “Everything has gone. Zero is completely off-line,” Tien said.

  “How could that happen?” Yang Zhou challenged.

  The colonel looked at him. “An obvious answer would be that the Americans have shut Zero down.”

  “Can they do that?” Zhou asked the technician.

  “I imagine they have done so,” Tien admitted. “If my thinking is correct, it is an attempt to reboot the platform. A full close-down can have the effect of clearing away problems in the system and allowing a clean restart.”

  “Does it always succeed?”

  “There are times it fails,” the tech said. “If a particularly powerful virus has been allowed into the system, a reboot cannot override it. But we have not introduced a virus. Simply an electrical diversion into the operating system and even that is not powerful. That was why we were only able to take command of a single missile pod. Until we achieve control of full protocols, our intrusions will be weak, sir.”

  “There are times I am glad to be a simple soldier,” Zhou said. “All this technical discussion is above my head.”

  “We all have our limitations,” Chan said. “Zhou, go and check our defenses. When it comes to that... I am in your hands.”

  * * *

  YANG ZHOU WAS pleased to be away from the crowded room. He was not comfortable with the electronic paraphernalia, much preferring the feel of a gun in his hand. That was something he appreciated.

  He made his way to the rear of the house, meeting up with one of the interior security men. The expression on the man’s face alerted Zhou.

  “Is there a problem, Deng?”

  “The perimeter sentries are not responding. Their communication sets are silent.”

  “All of them?”

  Deng nodded. “All four.”

  “Inform Major Chosan. Tell him what has happened and that I am investigating. Have all the security personnel alerted,” Zhou directed as he reached for one of the thick coats and shrugged into it. He pulled on weatherproof pants and worked his feet into boots. He also made sure his personal weapon was placed in one of the large pockets in the coat before he closed the zip.

  “It may be the temperature,” Deng said. “Severe cold can sometimes affect the com units. Do you want me to come with you?”

  Pulling on a wool cap, Zhou raised the hood on the coat. “Just make sure everyone is in a state of readiness in case this is more than just equipment malfunction.” He checked his own com set and heard it connect with Deng’s. “Keep your channel open. Your task is to protect the inside of the house.”

  With his pistol in one hand, the com set in the other, Zhou waited as Deng opened the door. Snow drifted in as he
went outside, feeling the tug of the wind against his body. The snow was cold against his face. The door closed with a solid thud behind him and Zhou stared around the area.

  Where were the sentries?

  He knew the general positions they were patrolling, but with the swirling snow and the buffeting effects of the wind it was difficult to locate exact positions. Zhou knew that it would be a waste of time calling out. The wind would simply take his words away.

  The thought crossed his mind that perhaps Chan’s scheme was turning out to be less successful than he had hoped it might be. They were here, in a foreign country, with only a small contingent around them. If things turned sour, they would have less than the full protection of the home country. Bringing Kaplan here had been a diversionary move, a scheme to cover what Chan was doing. If his presence here in Switzerland had been compromised...? Seclusion and privacy were concepts that went only so far. Zhou was beginning to see that Chan’s operation was not as clever as he had been anticipating.

  Zhou only had to think about Jui Kai. Exposed now as a traitor. How much information had she given out before her capture? Was she working for the Americans? Perhaps already having sent out details of where Kaplan was? That could be why the patrolling sentries were failing to report in. Maybe there was already an American presence in the area. Armed commandos closing in to mount an attack?

  This was not good, Zhou decided.

  What if there were already armed men surrounding the house? Waiting to make their attack. As much as he did not like them, the Americans had a reputation for this kind of operation. Hard and fast retrieval of their own people. Insertions into a hostile environment.

  Zhou gripped the pistol, moved away from the house and began to look for his men. Surely they had to be around. The snowfall. The wind. They conspired to reduce his vision greatly. He blinked his eyes to clear away the clinging flakes.

  Zhou felt the snow slip under his boots. He caught his balance and cast his eyes around to see if he could pick up any movement. Nothing. The snow-covered ground, with the trees and bushes, presented him with shadows. Zhou knew that shadows could conceal both friend and enemy. And the falling snow provided additional distractions.