Death Minus Zero
Page 25
“I would like a glass of water,” he said. His voice was weak, trembling, but there was a definite toughness lurking behind the drugged cloak.
“Agent Valens has been worried about you, sir,” McCarter said.
“I’ll bet she had a hand in arranging all that shooting I just heard.”
“In a manner of speaking, yes.”
“If I was a younger man,” Kaplan said, “I would ask her to marry me. But at my age I don’t believe I could handle her.”
“No way,” Hawkins said. “After what you’ve been through there isn’t anything you couldn’t handle.”
* * *
ENCIZO HAD MOVED along the corridor, looking and listening. Now that the shooting had died down, the house had taken on an odd silence.
Or so Encizo thought until he picked up on a ragged voice calling out. Close by but muffled. He tracked the sound, following the voice until he reached a single door at the end of a side passage. The door was bolted shut. Encizo could hear the voice louder now.
It was female.
Rising and falling as though it was an effort for the speaker.
Encizo shouldered his subgun, worked the sliding bolts at the top and bottom of the door and pushed it open. He saw a faint light and steps leading down into what was plainly a cellar. A wave of freezing air reached him. Encizo drew his handgun, though he had a feeling he wasn’t going to need it. He descended the steps to the cellar, where he found the badly bruised and bloody figure of who he took, correctly, to be Jui Kai.
She had undergone a severe beating. Her face was a swollen, discolored and bloody mask. Blood had spilled down the pale sweater she was wearing and had dried to dark stains. The cellar floor, filthy and damp, had soaked and stained her black pants. When Encizo crouched where she sat slumped against the cellar wall and gently raised her head, she stared at him through her right eye. Her left one had swollen shut.
“I’m getting you out of here,” Encizo said.
She barely nodded. Encizo saw where the side of her jaw was pushed out of shape and realized it had been dislocated; it must have hurt like hell for her to call out.
Encizo bent over and scooped up her slim form in his arms. Kai leaned against him, one arm slipping around his neck as he moved toward the cellar steps. As he carefully climbed, Encizo felt her body start to tremble as she began to cry.
“All you want, honey,” he said. “Cry as much as you want.”
He took her to the big lounge where the log fire burned and lowered her into a leather armchair. He then covered her with the coat he’d picked up from the floor.
Kai beckoned him close.
“Is Kaplan safe?” she asked, her words muffled, her voice cracking.
“I’m safe,” Kaplan told her as he was led into the lounge by Hawkins. He was weak, only just able to support himself as he stood and looked down at the young woman, his own suffering forgotten as he stared at her bloody, swollen face. “What have they done to you, child?”
Kai had to speak out of the side of her mouth.
“Nothing a good makeover won’t fix,” she said, her words slurred and soft. “And thank you for the child.”
Kaplan crossed over and slumped down on one of the other armchairs. His body was still under the effects of the drugs Melier had been putting into him. He seemed to alternate between coherence and sudden lapses of weariness.
“Is that a drink cabinet?” he asked.
“Is that a good idea?” Hawkins said.
“Son, after what they did to me, you really think a glass of whiskey is going to kill me?”
Hawkins brought him a tumbler of whiskey and he took a long swallow.
“Now I know I’m in heaven.”
“Where’s the boss?” Hawkins asked his partner.
“He’s gone to find Chan,” Encizo said. “That cabrón is still loose somewhere.”
* * *
CHOSAN HAD STATIONED himself at the door. He had it open a few inches so he could keep watch on the narrow passage at the top of the flight of stairs. The eruption of automatic fire had faded and the house had fallen silent. No one came to report on what had taken place and when Chosan tried to raise a response on the com set there was nothing. So he remained at his post, gripping the subgun he carried. Behind him he could hear Colonel Chan and the cyber technician in deep conversation. While the tech remained calm, explaining things, Chan seemed to become more and more agitated because things were not going his way.
The situation was serious, Chosan had decided. The house had been breached—most likely by some American strike team—and from the engagement it had become highly aggressive. Chosan was no coward. Nor was he a fool. In his estimation the strike force had overcome Chan’s group. The fact that he could not contact any of them and no one had come to reassure them suggested the fight was over, in the Americans’ favor.
Chosan glanced back over his shoulder. Colonel Chan and the tech were huddled together in front of the sophisticated computer setup. From what he could gather, the Zero Platform, their ultimate target, had been briefly attacked via the computer system, taking control of a small section of the platform’s weapons system. He had overheard the tech explaining that the information extracted from Kaplan by Dr. Melier had let him make an incursion into the system, but only on an isolated piece of hardware. Even though the success had been limited, it had pleased Chan. He had seen it as the start of a complete takeover of the Zero Command Centre and once more information had been taken from Kaplan, the Chinese would be able to control even more.
But when the Americans shut down the whole platform, akin to switching off a light bulb, Zero had become a lifeless hulk, orbiting the Earth as a silent, dark mass of metal. Zero offered nothing to Chan. He wanted it all. Complete control over the platform, weapons and technology. Shutting the platform down had denied Chan that. All his ranting and raving at the tech made no difference. Zero had been removed from any influence and Chan’s grand strategy had burst like the proverbial bubble.
His dream had been ended—but, being who he was, Colonel Xia Chan refused to accept the facts.
“They will have to power it up again,” Chan said. “When they do, we can make another attempt.”
“By the time Zero comes back online, our connection will have been broken. They will reboot using different protocols, so that what we used will no longer be recognized.”
“Are you being deliberately obtuse?” Chan snapped. “It is as if you are obstructing me.”
“Colonel, it is the Americans who are causing the obstructions. I will admit that the way they have chosen to work against us comes with risks, but I feel once they turn Zero on again, they will return the platform to a safe mode. We will not have the time to penetrate their electronic safeguards again. And how long can we hold out here, Colonel?”
“There has been a great deal of gunfire,” Chosan said from his position at the door. “Now that it has ceased, I can no longer make contact with anyone...”
* * *
CHAN STRAIGHTENED, STRIDING back and forth as his mind worked furiously. He refused to allow the word defeat to form in his mind. After everything he had achieved, he could not allow the matter to die.
He had kidnapped Kaplan and brought him all the way from America.
His gathering of his team here in Switzerland, here in this house, had gone well.
Dr. Melier, well known for his skills with drawing out information, had been summoned and had gone to work on Kaplan.
No, this could not be allowed to end. Must not be allowed.
Somehow he had to salvage matters. To keep things—
There was the sound of autofire. Chan spun around and saw the door shielding Chosan blown to pieces under a sustained burst of fire. The wood panels splintered and chunks of wood and slugs spit into Chos
an’s chest and head, tearing his flesh and bone apart. He fell back from the door, bloody and shredded.
The door was kicked wide and a tall, lean-faced gweilo came into sight, his subgun turning in Chan’s direction.
The tech swiveled his chair around, already fisting his handgun. Even at this decisive moment he retained enough courage to stand against the intruders. The intruder let go another burst and the tech was dropped facedown over his keyboard, his blood spattering the monitor screen.
“No,” Chan said. “I will not give in to you. This must not end here.”
The intruder raised a hand.
* * *
“SAVE IT, CHUM,” McCarter said. “Not interested. You have caused a lot of grief one way or another, Colonel Chan. But that’s it. You had your chance, you son of a bitch.”
The muzzle of the subgun lined up as the colonel reached for his sidearm. McCarter eased back the trigger and stitched Colonel Xia Chan from groin to chest. He kept the trigger engaged until the magazine emptied and the weapon fell silent.
Chan hit the floor in a bloody heap, his body weight settling under the sodden suit. He might have been a high-ranking soldier of the PRC, but he died wearing a civilian suit on the floor of a Swiss house in the middle of a snowstorm.
McCarter reloaded and turned the subgun on the computer setup, raking it with the full stack of 9 mm slugs until it was a shattered wreck. Then he walked out of the room and made his way back to where his teammates were gathered.
“Okay,” he told himself. “All we have to do now is get out of bloody Switzerland and make it home.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
“We need an extraction,” McCarter said. “Seven people. ASAP. Out of Switzerland and over the best border you can find. Medical assistance is needed for Jui Kai and Saul Kaplan.”
“Let me think about this,” Price said via the sat link. “One question. Can you drive to the border if I arrange a pickup? Are you still socked in by the snow?”
“We’ll make it, Barb, even if we have to get out and push.”
“I’m going to call you back. I need to talk to the cyber team.”
The sat phone shut down.
“We’ll use one of the vehicles parked outside,” McCarter said. “Check which SUV has the capacity and has fuel. Then get Kai and Saul settled.”
Manning and James, having returned to the location a half hour earlier to find the battle over, had joined them in the lounge.
He looked at Calvin James but used his code name in front of Kaplan and Kai. “Landis, you’re responsible for looking after them.”
“We could have waited in town,” Manning said. “You obviously have this all in hand.”
“We struggled,” Encizo said. “But we managed.”
Phoenix Force abandoned all the subguns they had acquired during the firefight, keeping only their handguns.
Hawkins had found the kitchen, where he busied himself making coffee for everyone. They all took a filled mug. James located bottled water in the large refrigerator and loaded them into an empty backpack.
Manning had gone outside to check the parked vehicles. He came back in, stamping snow off his boots.
“Big SUV out there. Plenty of room and the tank is close to being full.”
“Let’s load up,” McCarter said. “Sooner we move out the better. How’s the snowfall?”
“Still coming, but a good driver should be able to push us through.”
“That’s you,” James said, looking at McCarter.
McCarter had test-driven vehicles for some high-production British auto companies over the years.
“Bloody hell, mate, I don’t get much chance of that these days,” he said.
“It’ll be good practice for you,” Encizo said.
* * *
BARBARA PRICE CALLED back twenty minutes later.
“I’m looking at a map right now. Your best bet would be the Swiss-Italian border. It’s going to take you five, maybe six hours. Maybe longer if the weather holds you back. An Air Force Pave Hawk helicopter from Aviano will rendezvous with you at the border and take you into the base. Medical assistance will be on board and when you get to Aviano the base hospital will take over. From there the Air Force will bring you guys home.”
“I’m impressed,” McCarter said.
“And so you should be.”
“Whose arm did you have to twist to get all that organized?”
“Do not ask.”
“Okay, do not tell.”
“Aaron has worked out your route,” Price added. “Coordinates on the way. Now keep in touch. I want to know where you are at all times.”
* * *
WITH MCCARTER AT the wheel, the SUV eased away from the house and headed south, following the coordinates sent to his phone by the Farm.
The first couple of hours were the slowest. The snowstorm showed no sign of letting up. The powerful 4x4 plowed effortlessly along the narrow road. The afternoon was slipping away by the time they reached the lower slopes and found the landscape leveling out a little.
There was little talk. They were all simply grateful to be riding in the comfort and warmth of the SUV. After the rush of combat, coming back down left each man drained to a degree though none of them would relax fully until they were out of the country.
The roads, even when they got to the main routes, were quiet. Only a few vehicles showed. McCarter drove steadily, aware that the road surface was dicey. They stopped once to pick up hot drinks and on the second stop McCarter took the opportunity to fill the gas tank. He wanted no unexpected problems this late in the game.
By the time full dark fell they were all relieved to see that the snowfall had lessened. So had the wind that had followed them down from the higher ground.
Price called and Manning answered.
“How is the road trip going?”
“Pretty good,” Manning said. “Weather has let up a little. We’ve made pretty good time.”
“Your ride, courtesy of the US Air Force, will be with you in a couple of hours. You’ll liaise at the end of your route. Any problems, call me and I will guide you to the pickup point.” She paused before asking, “How’s your designated driver doing?”
“Pretty well for a novice,” Manning said.
“I heard that,” McCarter said.
Price’s laugh could be heard through the sat phone.
* * *
THE SWISS BORDER lay close. Lake Maggiore was glinting in the early dawn light as McCarter rolled the SUV to a stop. Here there was no sign of the snow that had covered the landscape they had left behind. The area was quiet. A breeze rolled in off the lake and the temperature was chill.
They made the rendezvous with twenty minutes clear to spare. The meet had been set for 4 a.m.
Since Price had enabled a sat phone connection with the incoming Pave Hawk HH-60G, McCarter contacted the pilot.
“We can track your signal from the phone,” the co-pilot said. “When I give you the word, hit your lights.”
“Got that,” McCarter said.
The call came minutes later and McCarter switched on the headlights for the incoming chopper.
By the time the helicopter appeared Phoenix Force had everything ready. They had stowed their weapons in a duffel bag and stripped off all their combat gear. Encizo took charge of the bag.
The dark configuration of the Pave Hawk swept in out of the pale light and sank to the ground yards away. The moment it settled, the side hatch opened and two figures clad in flight gear dropped to the ground. They took charge of Jui Kai and carried her to the helicopter. The others followed, James assisting Saul Kaplan. The transfer was fast and silent. Once they were inside, the hatch was closed and the helicopter geared up and lifted off. It gained height
and swung around, powering into Italian airspace and away.
The Air Force medics immediately went to work on Kai, assessing her injuries and giving her something to help her settle. The agent reached out and took Encizo’s hand.
“I didn’t get a chance to thank you properly,” she rasped. “All of you.”
“You did a lot yourself,” Encizo said. “Managing to send those texts. Keeping us informed. We should thank you.”
It still hurt her to speak, but she had to ask. “Did you shut down Chan’s operation?”
Encizo nodded. “We did. And to save you asking, Colonel Chan has been retired permanently.”
“Zhou? Bolo? Melier?”
“They are all dead,” McCarter said. “Now, just relax, young lady. Try to enjoy the ride. Bit noisy, but it was the best we could get under the circumstances.”
“It’s wonderful,” Kai mumbled. Her eyes dropped and she went to sleep.
“She going to be okay?” Encizo said.
“Yes,” the medic said. “It will take time, but she’ll get there.”
* * *
WHEN THEY REACHED the Air Force base, it was full light. The Pave Hawk put down gently. A medical team was waiting and took charge of both Jui Kai and Saul Kaplan. He kept insisting he was fine but he was overridden by the Air Force doctor. Phoenix Force watched as they were whisked away to the medical center.
After thanking the chopper crew for their help, Phoenix Force was escorted to facilities where they were able to shower and change into fresh clothing, courtesy of the Air Force. Someone had paved the way for them and they were treated with quiet politeness. The cafeteria was next and the five found themselves enjoying a cooked breakfast that was more than they might have imagined.
McCarter took a call on his sat phone. This time it was Brognola.
“Air Force looking after you guys?”
“Like bloody royalty,” McCarter said. “I got three eggs with my breakfast.”
Brognola chuckled.