Retribution - A Special Agent Dylan Kane Thriller Book #7

by J. Robert Kennedy

  How they’d get away with the kidnapping, he wasn’t sure, but if he had been running the op, he would have made sure to use private contractors who couldn’t be traced back to the government. It would have been criminals that kidnapped him, forced him to sign an already prepared document, then released him after the operation was complete.

  The Russians would deny involvement, pleading ignorance to the fact the ambassador’s request for assistance in apprehending the criminals responsible for illegal activity at the embassy, was obtained under duress.

  The world wouldn’t buy it, but the Russians wouldn’t care.

  They never did.

  They lived in a country where the press was controlled, the message was managed from the top, and the people, desperate for a strong leader, ate it up.

  Kane stepped through the front doors of the building, unchallenged.

  Now to find Sherrie.

  Sherrie had headed for the exit as ordered, then feigned fright and curled up in a corner, covering her head as consular staff ran about in all directions, shouting orders to underlings. From what she could tell, computers were being wiped and papers shredded, standard practice at any embassy under attack.

  Nothing suspicious here.

  If data were being wiped, that was a good thing. That’s why she was here, to make sure the Russians didn’t get the ToolKit. But she couldn’t rely on the North Koreans to actually accomplish the task in time.

  Gunfire shattered the glass and the civilians hit the ground, the armed soldiers returning fire. Something clattered to her left and she spun toward the sound, gasping.

  Grenade!

  She lunged forward and swatted it back toward where it had come from then covered her head. A massive explosion tore through the room, screams of terror and agony overwhelming her as she scurried back into her corner, checking for wounds.

  She was good, but she had to get out of here—the next time she might not be so lucky.

  Park checked his computer, confirming it was wiped, then headed out the door, Tann rushing toward him. “What did you find out?”

  “Nobody knows where the ambassador is, sir. He left for work this morning, but never arrived.”

  Park cursed. “Those damned Russians must have kidnapped him. That’s the only explanation.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  “We’re going to get out of here and report back to Pyongyang.”

  “But how? The building is surrounded.”

  “Leave that to me.”

  Park headed for an interior stairwell, shoving the doors open. He raced down the stairs toward the basement, their only hope of escape probably minutes away from being overrun.

  Kane strode deeper into the building, the fighting still ahead of him, Russian guards at each entrance snapping to attention as he passed. He had never been an officer, but he could understand the appeal.

  Respect.

  He followed the signs in Korean and Russian toward where he expected Sherrie to be. If she had managed to accomplish her task, they should be in and out in no time.

  He pushed through another set of doors and into what appeared to be a waiting area. There was heavy damage at the entranceway from an explosion, probably a hand grenade. Who had thrown it was anybody’s guess, several Russians and Koreans apparently having borne the brunt of it.

  His chest tightened as he spotted Sherrie, curled in a ball in the corner, her clothes suggesting she had been caught up in the explosion.

  Chris is going to kill me if anything happens to her.

  He ignored his sense of urgency and strode toward her calmly. She spotted him and rose, rushing toward him. In flawless Russian, she said, “Oh, thank God, an officer! Is it over?”

  “For you, child, it is.”

  She hugged him, the Russian soldiers giving them a look. He rolled his eyes and they grinned. She pressed something into his hand.

  “Come, let’s get you someplace safe.”

  He led her deeper into the building, keeping an eye out for any North Korean personnel that weren’t already dead.

  Someone whimpered from a room to his left. He drew his weapon and opened the door. He scanned the room but found no one.

  But he had heard something.

  “Come out, or you die.”

  A pair of shaking hands appeared from behind a desk, a woman slowly rising to her feet.

  “Where is the server room?”

  She stared at him, confused.

  Kane aimed his weapon directly at her. “Server room. Now.”

  She pointed down the hall. “Take the stairs to the basement. Go right. You can’t miss it.”

  Kane clicked his heels and bowed slightly. “Thank you. Now I suggest you resume your hiding.”

  The woman nodded, dropping to the floor and out of sight. He closed the door and headed farther down the hallway, sticking to Russian. “Good work on the pass.”

  “It’s amazing what a little hugging can do.”

  “Ooh, should Chris be jealous?”

  “It was a woman.”

  Kane grinned at her. “Wish I was there.”

  “It’s not like we were naked.”

  “Too bad.” He spotted the stairwell and cautiously opened the door. He could hear footsteps below them as at least two people hurried somewhere. He peered over the railing and silently cursed.

  It was Colonel Park.

  But there was nothing they could do about that now. He was their secondary target, their primary was the data.

  Shouts behind them erupted, and he ducked back into the hallway to see half a dozen Russians making their way down the hall, searching each room as they passed. Kane stepped out and pointed toward the door where the woman was hiding.

  “There’s a civilian in there. Unarmed. Try not to kill her.”

  “Yes, Major!”

  They burst in as Kane returned to the stairwell, following Sherrie to the basement level. They came through the doors and found a deserted corridor, no sign of Korean defenders, nor Park and his companion.

  Park swiped his pass, entering a highly restricted room, then closed the door behind them. He stepped over to the far wall and opened a panel, entering a six-digit code known only to the senior officers. There was a clicking sound, and a door to his right opened.

  “What’s this?” asked Tann.

  “Escape route. Something the Russians know nothing about.”

  Park stepped through, followed by Tann. He pressed a button on the other side, and the door closed behind them. He pulled a flashlight off the wall and turned it on, then rushed forward through the dark, damp tunnel, every sound amplified by the confined space, the thud of weapons fire acting as a deadly bass drum to their journey.

  It took only a few minutes before they reached the other end. He entered another code, and a door clicked open. He pushed it aside slightly and peered into a perfectly normal bedroom.

  Empty.

  He pressed the flashlight into an empty holder on the tunnel wall, then stepped into the bedroom, a stunned Tann on his heels. Park pushed the door closed, a door disguised to appear as a wall panel.

  He walked over to a wardrobe and threw open the doors, his fingers sorting through dozens of plastic covered sets of clothing, spotting his ID number on one of the tags. He lifted the bundle off the rack and headed for the corner of the room. He pointed toward the closet.

  “Find something that fits.”

  Tann, wide-eyed, nodded, grabbing the first set as Park stripped out of his uniform and changed. Within minutes, he was a South Korean businessman, replete with identification.

  He glanced at Tann as he slipped on a pair of shoes. “Does it fit?”

  “Yes, sir. A little tight in the chest, but the overcoat will cover it.”

  “Excellent. Let’s go, we have little time.”

  Kane pointed. “This must be it.” There was a large set of double doors with a security panel to the right. He swiped the ID, and the panel flashed at him, expecti
ng a code. “Lovely.”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out several bricks of plastic explosives, handing two of them to Sherrie. They placed them on the four hinges, inserted detonators, then ran toward the end of the hallway.

  “Ready?”

  Sherrie nodded.

  “Fire in the hole.” Kane triggered the devices, and a deafening roar overwhelmed them, dust and debris rolling down the hallway toward them with nowhere to go, threatening to swallow them whole. Kane covered his mouth and pushed through it, the dust so dense he couldn’t see if they had succeeded in blowing the doors.

  He reached a gaping hole in the wall where the doors had been and smiled. He stepped inside to find a room with rows upon rows of racked hardware, the ventilation system visibly exhausting the dust from the hall outside, allowing them to breathe and see clearly. He pointed to a terminal and Sherrie dropped into the chair. He handed her a USB key provided by Langley, and she plugged it in. The security lockout was quickly overcome, and they watched as Langley’s virus hunted for the ToolKit.

  Kane sat at another terminal and inserted a second USB key. As soon as the security was bypassed, he found the personnel files and transferred the data to the USB key, then swapped it out for another, copying the files once again.

  “Got it.”

  He glanced over at Sherrie’s terminal. “How much longer?”

  “Just a few minutes. It’s copying then wiping everything it can.”

  Shouts from the hallway indicated the Russian’s search had finally reached the basement. “We’re out of time.”

  Sherrie nodded, executing a final command that would eat through the entire network independently, then repeatedly overwrite all storage with ones and zeroes over and over until stopped by someone.

  She pulled the USB key and stuck it in her bra.

  Kane grinned. “If you forget where you put that, I’ll help you find it later.”

  “I’m telling Chris every single thing you’ve said to me on this mission.”

  Kane laughed as he straightened his uniform for the impending confrontation. “Now, remember, you’re a scared American who ran from the bullets and found your way in here. The doors were already blown before you got here. Oh, and you don’t speak Russian. Understood?”

  “Da.”

  He smiled. “Now hug me like you mean it.”

  She wrapped her arms around his chest, and he led her toward the door, soothing words delivered in Russian as four soldiers appeared in the doorway, weapons raised.

  “Lower your weapons!” he barked, the men immediately complying. “Search the entire area. I saw a North Korean colonel run down here, but when I reached the doors, he was gone. All I found was this poor tourist.”

  “Yes, Major!”

  The four men continued their search as Kane calmly led a “terrified” Sherrie to the stairwell. They climbed the steps in silence, arriving at the landing of the main floor. Kane looked at Sherrie.

  “Ready?”

  “Yup.”

  “Remember, if anything is said other than English, pretend you don’t understand, and just cling to me like I’m your knight in shining armor.”

  “Got it. Damsel in distress routine.”

  Kane pushed open the door, startling two Russian guards who snapped to attention. Kane ignored them, instead leading Sherrie by the shoulder and elbow down the hallway and through a succession of doors before reaching outside. Scores of North Korean staff and soldiers were lined up against the wall, weapons trained on them, a Russian major with a megaphone shouting at them in Russian.

  “Anyone who is a member of Bureau 121, step forward immediately!”

  Unsurprisingly, nobody did.

  Kane stopped. “Wait here.”

  Sherrie nodded, and Kane strode quickly toward the major. He handed him the second copy of the personnel data he had made. “Major, a copy of their personnel records. Anyone reporting to Colonel Park is a member of Bureau 121.”

  The man’s eyes widened slightly as he took the memory key. “Excellent work, Major. How—”

  “Never ask a question that might have a dangerous answer.”

  The major smiled slightly. “Understood.”

  Kane turned and walked directly back to Sherrie, the major shouting for someone to bring him a computer. As Kane and Sherrie walked through the twisted gates of the embassy and out onto Russian soil, they turned right, clearing the cordon of security, just as names were called out, the major apparently finding a computer.

  Bureau 121 in Moscow was finished, their data wiped. Any risk they had posed was over, and any chance of the Russians gaining access to the ToolKit through the North Koreans had been eliminated.

  But they still didn’t have Park, and he was key. If he had planted Penn in the NSA as a mole, he might have others. Capturing him could prove invaluable, and their only hope of doing that was the tracking device Sherrie had planted on him earlier.

  Let’s just hope he hasn’t changed clothes.

  Sherrie pulled some keys from her purse and unlocked a nearby Renault, the lights flashing and the alarm chirping. She climbed into the driver’s seat as Kane closed the passenger side door. She started the car and pulled into traffic, Kane tossing his Russian Army hat into the back seat, then removing his jacket. Sherrie dialed Control as he lost the tie and removed any insignia from the dress shirt.

  “This is Control Actual. Status?”

  Sherrie smiled at the sound of Leroux’s voice. “We’re clear. The ToolKit has been wiped, we’ve got a few gigs of data, and the worm is chewing through their entire system. The Russians won’t get anything—nothing of value, anyway.”

  Kane thrust his hips up off the seat and yanked at his pants, Velcro strips down either side separating, the distinctive slacks stripped away, a thin pair of black pants revealed. “Your lady did great, buddy. Fooled everyone.”

  Sherrie grinned. “Was there ever any doubt?”

  “I know I had none,” replied Leroux. “We tracked Colonel Park out of the embassy. We lost his signal for a few minutes, and judging from where he came out, I’d say they had some sort of escape tunnel. He’s now located in an apartment building across the road. Looks like a basement unit.”

  “Send us the location, we’ll go pick him up,” said Kane as he reached behind him and retrieved a bag. He pulled out a light jacket then struggled into it.

  “Done.”

  Sherrie glanced at her phone. “Confirmed. We’ll double back and come in from the rear. There’re too many Russians in front of that building, and me thinks they’ll be there for a while.”

  “Copy that.”

  Kane retrieved a pair of sunglasses and planted them on his nose, then stuffed the uniform into the bag before zipping it up. “How do I look?”

  “I’m sure your mirror would tell you you’re the fairest in the land.”

  Kane made a loud kissing sound for Leroux’s benefit. “She’s a wonderful girl, buddy, a wonderful girl.”

  “He knows that.”

  “Umm, yes I do. You better hurry. Park’s signal hasn’t moved in over fifteen minutes. If he’s waiting for a pickup, it has to be arriving soon.”

  “Copy that. We’re boogying.”

  Park stepped out the rear entrance of the large apartment building, Tann in tow, and climbed into the cab he had ordered. He gave the driver a destination about ten minutes from their current location, then they drove in silence, Park warily eying every police and military vehicle he spotted along the way.

  They weren’t safe yet.

  Not by a long shot.

  The cab pulled to a stop. “Here you go.” Park handed over the cash to pay the fare as Tann stepped out onto the street. Park led them casually toward a nearby café, but ducked into an alley before entering. He dialed the emergency number he had memorized for just such a situation.

  “Go ahead.”

  Park steadied his voice. “Asset Six-Four-Seven-One-One-Alpha. I need extraction for two. Myself and
Captain Tann. The embassy was attacked.”

  “Current location?”

  “Lao Lee Café, Tsvetnoy Boulevard, Moscow.”

  “You will be contacted in exactly thirty minutes with instructions.”

  The line went dead, and he sighed.

  “What now?” asked Tann.

  “Now we wait.”

  Kane took only seconds to pick the lock of the basement apartment, a quick search finding it empty, though there was evidence that at least two men in uniform had used it as an escape route. He was certain one of those was Park.

  He dialed Leroux and delivered the news as Sherrie cursed, holding up her tracking device, still tucked into Park’s jacket pocket.

  “Control Actual here.”

  “We found the tracking device, but Park is long gone. Are you guys listening in on the Russians?”

  “Hi, you’ve reached the CIA. How may I help you?”

  Kane grinned at his buddy’s flat delivery. “Yeah, okay, stupid question. Any indication Park’s been picked up by them?”

  “None. My guess is he’s gone to ground, awaiting extraction by his people. They’ll want to act fast. We’ll start watching the airports and train stations.”

  “Copy that. We’ll head to the hotel for some hanky panky, and await your call.”

  “Umm, what was that?”

  “I said we’re going to wait to hear from you.”

  “Before that.”

  “No idea. Can’t remember.”

  Sherrie grabbed the phone. “Just ignore him, darling. If he tries anything, I’ll castrate him and deliver you his nuts in person.”

  Kane didn’t hear the response, but there was a twinge from down below.

  59

  Lao Lee Café

  Tsvetnoy Boulevard, Moscow, Russian Federation

  “I think that’s it.”

  Park put his coffee down and glanced toward the street, spotting a black four-door sedan with a front quarter panel in a different color, as if undergoing repairs. “I believe it is.”

  Park threw some money on the table and rose, heading out onto the street, the instructions on their extraction received exactly thirty minutes after their initial call, this car arriving precisely fifteen minutes after that.