by Matthew Rief
Nearing the edge of the public area, he reached a narrow channel that was roped off. Just around the corner, the waters opened up again, giving way to a smaller lagoon bordered by scattered private villas. It was the exclusive section of the one-of-a-kind attraction for those able and willing to shell out over a thousand dollars a night to soak in the springs in privacy.
According to the invoice Murph had found, Yuri Novikov was staying in villa number seven. A glance at the resort’s map informed Jason that it was located farthest from the main building, nearly two hundred yards of winding waterways from his current position.
Initially, the idea had been to barge up to the villa’s front door, break it down, and wring answers out of the smuggler the old-fashioned way. But a quick, high-altitude flyover with their advanced drone showed men standing guard outside and around the villa. That was both good and bad news. Guards typically don’t stand watch when no one’s home, so it was more than likely that the smuggler was inside. But it also meant that a stealthier approach was warranted. If they barged up to the place, the guards would give word, and Novikov would have time to prepare. He’d have a window to erase messages, clear hard drives, and make an attempt at an escape. Not to mention they’d likely instigate another shootout.
Jason had chosen right away to sneak into the place instead, and he had just the new gadget to help him pull it off. Propping up against a rock-riddled shore at the edge of the lagoon, he took a quick look around, then opened his dry bag. Pulling out the rebreather, he powered it on, then tightened a ten-pound weight belt around his waist to ensure he remained submerged in the dense waters of the spring. He clicked on his tracking device and then inserted a waterproof earpiece and hailed Scott.
“Tracker on. You guys got me?”
“We’re up and running,” Alejandra replied.
With the water so frothy and bubbly, Jason wouldn’t be able to see his hand in front of his face while submerged. In order to reach his destination, he’d need to rely on backup.
“Your pos is linked with the drone feed,” Alejandra added.
“Any new movement at the villa?”
“Nothing. We’re green on all fronts.”
“Copy. On the move.”
Jason kept the earpiece in place and wrapped up his dry bag, making sure all the air was out, then secured it to his weight belt. With the rebreather warmed up and ready to don, he looked out over the steaming water and realized he’d planned for every detail except one. The lagoon was even hotter than he’d anticipated. He’d been in up to his waist for five minutes, and he was already sweating. Being completely submerged would quickly take its toll on his body.
Jason took one more look at the still surface of the magical world, then tightened the rebreather over his face and dropped into the lagoon.
NINETEEN
After wrapping up his meeting with members of the UNSC and Icelandic government, Scott drove back to the hotel and met up with Alejandra. The former government agent already had everything set up for the infiltration.
“Drone’s airborne and currently hovering high above the Blue Lagoon,” she said. “Jason’s getting into position.”
“Stepping into the lagoon,” Jason said. “I’ll contact you again once I’m ready to dive.”
Alejandra snatched a radio from the table. “Copy that, Jase. Drone’s airborne.”
Scott hovered over the computer displaying an eagle-eye feed of the lagoon. He planted his hands on his hips and stared off into space. The meeting hadn’t been nearly as informative as he’d hoped. With the council on their way back to the UN headquarters, and with the Icelandic government conducting an exhaustive search of the island, he hoped to receive some more encouraging intel soon.
As if his thoughts had conjured up a result, his phone buzzed in his pocket. “Hey, Murph. What have you got?”
“About half a dozen hits from a jet that landed at the private terminal in Keflavik before the initial attack. Then the mother of all hits hours later from a cargo plane.”
“I’m listening,” Scott said, stepping away from his computer and giving the hacker his undivided attention.
“A military higher-up from North Korea entered the country impersonating a pilot. General Kang Ryong-Jin.”
The name rang a bell, but not loud enough for Scott to piece together the significance of it. Regardless, the words that Jason spoke during their brief the previous day popped into his mind: “The soldiers in the cave had referred to their boss as ‘the General.’”
Murph said, “General Kang has spearheaded North Korea’s biological weapons department for the past six years.”
Scott took a moment to let the revelation sink in. Yuri Novikov was a pawn, along with the handfuls of dead mercenaries. But a North Korean general, and the head of the largest store of biological weaponry in the world? That was their guy, and Scott was certain of it.
“Can you send me over everything you’ve got on the guy?”
“Already on the way.”
A ding on Scott’s phone indicated that he’d received the intel. He plopped back down in front of his laptop and clicked it open. An image popped up of a middle-aged man with dark eyes, short, jet-black hair, and a blank expression. He was lean, with good posture, and wore a uniform adorned with dozens of medals. Scott stared intently at the man who was likely responsible for the whole terrorist operation.
Not responsible, Scott corrected himself. Just leading it.
The prospect that they could be dealing with an act of war by North Korea raised the stakes of the situation even higher.
Scott clicked through the rest of the intel. Other than the picture and two paragraphs about his background, there was little else to it. “This all we got on him?”
“Digging for more as we speak, but for the time being, yeah.”
Scott wasted no time forwarding the intel Murph discovered to high-ranking government officials and security officers within the Icelandic government. He wanted the face shot of the North Korean General printed out and plastered for every law enforcement officer to see. The man was still on the island somewhere, and there’d be no expense spared in finding him.
“How’d you say he arrived?” Scott said. “A cargo plane?”
“He posed as a pilot aboard flight FL-Twenty-Seven. A Boeing Seven Sixty-Seven that landed three hours before you guys first reached Iceland.”
Scott leaned back into his chair, taking it all in.
A man like Kang would be as well-versed as anyone alive regarding the efficacy of different viruses. And the man had assembled a team and traveled all the way to Iceland less than twenty-four hours after the first symptoms appeared in the archeologists. That meant Kang must’ve believed that the virus was powerful enough to warrant such a move and that he had some serious help.
How had he even managed to hear about the virus in the first place?
The entire thing had been kept under wraps—need-to-know and confidential, but not confidential enough, apparently. The discovery of Kang and North Korea’s involvement threw more questions into the mix, but Scott didn’t have the time to try and figure everything out then. However the General had learned about the virus, and whatever he was planning to do with it, he needed to be stopped. That was the main priority. Everything else paled in comparison.
Jason’s voice came through the radio speaker once again. “Tracker on. You guys got me?”
Scott strode to Alejandra as she scooped up the radio. Focusing on the monitor, he saw Jason’s position indicated by a red dot, the drone’s advanced camera integrated with GPS giving them a live view of his position in the lagoon.
“We’re all set, Jase,” Alejandra said.
Scott debated giving Jason a rundown of everything Murph had said, but he knew time was of the essence. He decided that Jason should close in on Yuri Novikov as soon as he could, then they co
uld throw all their info together and see where it led them.
“I’m on the move,” Jason said.
They watched the screen intently as Jason splashed down into the lagoon.
TWENTY
Deep rumbling boomed from all around Jason as the spring washed over him, the sounds of the heated groundwater mixture sprouting up from over a mile beneath the Earth’s surface and adding to the cloudy chaos. Streamlining his body and keeping himself just inches above the bottom, Jason swam through the opening and into the exclusive, sectioned-off part of the lagoon.
“Maintain that course for another hundred feet,” Scott said. “It’s a straight shot to the far end.”
The spring was scorching, and the milky whitewashed world would’ve been impossible to navigate were it not for his eyes in the sky. Once across the lagoon, Scott directed Jason to the left, around a corner of rock. Keeping his arms outstretched ahead of him, Jason felt the jagged corners of the shore before his head pounded into them. Zigging around part of the main hotel, he followed Scott’s detailed instructions until he navigated to the far edges of the springs.
“Ahead, fifty feet,” Scott said.
Jason was beginning to feel the effects from the extreme heat. He’d been submerged for nearly five minutes, but it felt longer. His mind was slipping away and joining the tumult around him.
“Now, right,” Scott continued. “The villa is thirty feet in front of you. Move around the corner of the deck. Best bet is the wall on the left side. You could wrap around and slip through the side door. You’ve . . . Wait, hold there.”
Jason did as instructed, keeping his flattened body pressed against the bottom of the lagoon. The only way he could tell up from down was by touching the muddy spring floor.
“You’ve got a guard sweeping around. Move to your left ten feet, then forward slightly, and you’ll be behind a rock outcropping.”
Jason followed Scott’s instruction, then grazed his hands along the rocky shore.
“Now, you should be able to reach up and feel the base of the porch.”
Jason extended his hands and inched forward, swaying them back and forth until his right hand touched smooth concrete. “Got it. I’m at the corner where it meets the rock.”
With Jason around the nook and out of view from the other guard standing watch at the back of the villa, Scott waited until the patrolling guard was right at the edge above Jason, then gave the covert operative the green light.
Jason didn’t hesitate. Having already shifted his body into a crouch, his legs ready to pounce and his head less than a foot beneath the frothy surface, he sprang upward, quietly breaking out from the lagoon and reaching skyward. The unsuspecting guard froze, then tried to jump back as Jason threw his arms around him. Locking tight around the guy’s neck, Jason whisked him off the deck and into the lagoon. Like an alligator snatching its prey from the shore, he held the man with all his strength and pulled him down, the guard’s face just above water as he struggled and thrashed.
The sound of venting air and the rumble of the lagoon masked the noises as the guard grew weaker and then limp as he faded out of consciousness. Once sure that the man was no longer a threat, Jason wedged his body between the side of the concrete and the rocks, making sure he was out of sight but safe from sliding into the water, then he removed his rebreather and climbed up onto the deck.
“Target neutralized,” Jason said. Receiving no reply, he adjusted the position of his earpiece. “You guys there?”
There was a quick jumble of static, then Scott’s voice slipped through. “We’ve got a lead we’re jumping on. We’re heading for the downtown airport.”
“Abort?” Jason said, trying to decipher how strong the lead was.
“Negative. Find Novikov, and figure out what he knows.”
“Roger that.”
He scanned the villa from his vantage point just beyond the left side of the structure. The unit was larger and more extravagant than he’d expected, the place bearing more resemblance to a chateau. It was a massive two-story structure set perfectly into the rocks and blue waters.
Jason quietly pulled out a towel from his dry bag, patted himself dry, then threw on a T-shirt and laced up a pair of shoes. He stowed his Glock 26 in the back of his waistband, then grabbed a titanium dive knife and strapped it to the inside of his right calf. The final item he’d packed was an advanced hacking tool that Murph created. Known simply as “the Plague,” Jason pocketed the mini thumb drive sized device that could be used to uncover intel from a computer, regardless of the machine’s safeguards.
Once ready, he peeked around the corner and saw two guards standing idly beside a set of stairs that led into the lagoon. Scanning along the side of the structure, he spotted the entrance that Scott alluded to. As he completed the sweep, he noticed a propped-open balcony door that was far more enticing. Climbing the nearby boulders, he managed to become level with the second story, then eyed the ten-foot gap between him and the railing.
Here we go.
Calming his breath, he sprang forward and launched his body. Soaring through the air, he caught himself at the base of the balcony, grabbing tight to the metal rails. Jason climbed over the rail, landing softly beside a bubbling hot tub and a table covered with mostly empty drinks and extinguished cigarettes. Towels and articles of clothing were laid out on plush chairs.
Creeping along the wall, he glanced through the propped-open door and saw a disheveled bed and a TV displaying World News. After entering the room, he spotted movement in the adjoining bathroom. Tip-toeing closer, he caught a glimpse in the reflection of the fogged-up mirror of a man in his underwear.
Seeing that the guy was turning to head out to the bedroom, Jason slipped a towel from a nearby rack. He lunged forward and threw it around the guy’s neck the moment he stepped around the corner. The man struggled to breathe and threw his hands back wildly as Jason manhandled him to the tile floor.
Once his body went unconscious, Jason dragged him into the shower. He left the man propped up against the inner glass and turned on the spigot, aiming the cascade against the tiled walls before sliding the door shut.
Shutting the bathroom door behind him, Jason scanned the bedroom once more, then pushed down a hallway. Based on the resort’s website, the villa had three bedrooms upstairs, with the kitchen and living room downstairs. Upon entering the master bedroom, he heard voices coming from the bathroom, but no one was in the bedroom. A smartphone was at the foot of the bed, so Jason crept to it and picked up the device.
“Plan is a go,” a message on the home screen said. “T-minus twenty minutes.”
The timestamp indicated that the message had been sent eight minutes earlier, so whatever the message was referring to was close to taking place. Jason thought about his rushed chat with Scott and how he and Alejandra were on their way to check on a lead at the downtown airport. He wondered if the text and the unexpected lead were related. If so, Scott and dozens of others were likely already on top of it.
When Jason heard footsteps coming from the bathroom, he shifted behind the door. It opened just as he reached the wall, and a bald man stepped out wearing only a towel. Jason recognized him instantly from the photo that Murph had sent over.
“Hello, Yuri,” Jason said.
The man spun around. “What the—”
They were the only two words he could utter before Jason closed the distance and kicked him in the gut.
Grabbing the short man by the throat, Jason picked him up and pinned him to the wall. “Start talking,” he said, withdrawing his knife and tapping the side against the terrified man’s neck.
“What? Who the hell are you?”
“Don’t make me repeat myself, Novikov. I don’t have time for it.”
“Shit, man. What do you want to know?”
“Where are the virus samples?”
The ma
n blinked rapidly. “Virus? The hell you talking about?”
“Don’t play dumb with me. I don’t have the patience for it, and I might do something rash, like . . .” Jason twisted the blade so the tip touched the veins throbbing in his neck, and he applied pressure.
The man cracked. “I don’t know anything about a virus. Really. I’m telling the truth.”
“Why are you here?”
“To help smuggle. It’s what I do.”
“What, and how are you smuggling?”
“I . . . I don’t know what it is.”
“Do you have any idea what you’re doing? Who the hell you’re helping?”
The young Russian’s mouth hung open. “I’m a businessman. It’s all about the payout. I’m just a middle-man.”
“Tell me where it is. How are they smuggling it off the island?”
“I can’t do that. It’s bad for business.”
Jason yanked him back, then shoved him against the wall. He jammed a knee into his gut, causing the man to lurch forward and the air to burst from his lungs.
“So is you dying,” Jason said, pressing the blade back against the guy’s neck.
“You won’t kill me. Government agents like you? Murdering in cold blood isn’t your style. I know the drill.”
“Do I look like a government agent to you?”
They were interrupted by the sounds of shouts and scrambling men on the first floor.
Novikov smiled. “Looks like you’re running out of time.”
Sick of dealing with Novikov’s games, Jason reared back the knife and stabbed it deep into his right thigh. He covered the Russian’s mouth to muffle his screams as he twisted the lodged blade side to side. “I don’t need you,” Jason hissed. “You’ll be dead in three seconds if you don’t answer my questions.” He ripped the knife free, and crimson spilled over the white towel and splattered on the floor. “One . . . two . . .”
