Red Ice Page 16

  “Good.” The intruder turned Glimsdale’s head back to face him. “You will answer my questions completely and truthfully. The lives of you and your family depend on it.”

  #

  “Well?” Muhn asked when Chief Master Sergeant Hyoung In-sook walked into the Glimsdale’s kitchen forty-five minutes later.

  “I think he told us the truth.” Hyoung walked over to a dishtowel and wiped the bloody knife he was carrying on it. “He resisted when I cut him, but weakened when I started cutting his wife and son. He surrendered completely when I started cutting his daughter’s throat.”

  “Did he tell us everything?”

  “As much as he knows.” Hyoung sheathed the now-clean knife and pulled off his black ski mask. “He confirmed the American mercenaries’ identities, and that they are working directly for Casey. They are apparently rogues from several U.S. agencies, including the FBI, CIA and NSA.”

  “That does not surprise me. Did he give you a location?”

  “He said that Casey is staying at the Trans-Continental Marsh Hotel. Twentieth floor, Presidential suite. The mercenaries are also staying there, eighteenth floor.”

  “Good, I—”

  The phone in Muhn’s pocket trilled. The scar-faced captain took the phone out and answered it. “Yes?”

  “Are you done?” Rhee’s voice was demanding, hard.

  “Yes, sir. We have information.”

  “Good, because we have a problem.”

  “Sir?”

  “The American special team has been busy. Kim called me with the news that Hong has lost a brothel, a gambling hall, and half a dozen men in the last three hours.”

  “You think it’s this group of mercenaries?”

  “I know it’s them. They left the same message for Hong at both locations — they want him to give me up.”

  “But how—”

  “They know who I am — they used my name when they left the messages.”

  “My team and I will go right now and kill them.”

  “No. It is likely the mercenaries are not done yet, so striking at their base now will yield nothing. You will continue with Phase two of Night Blade. Seonwoo will take care of the mercenaries, using your actions as a cover and a distraction. In addition, he will be going after the mercenaries’ paymaster, Casey, to capture or kill him. It is time for the Americans to be reminded that no one is safe anywhere.”

  “Yes sir. We are leaving now.”

  “Do not let me down.” The connection went dead and Muhn pocketed the phone while addressing Hyoung. “Tell the men we are done here.”

  Hyoung nodded. “What about the agent and his family? He and his daughter are still alive.”

  “Kill them. Make it look like the Colombians did it.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  #

  21 miles northeast of Sacramento, California

  2:55am

  Seonwoo Hun-Jai frowned as the truck he was riding in slowed to make a turn into Pace Farming Supply’s parking lot. There was a pickup truck parked in front of their target, and Seonwoo didn’t know if people were inside it or not. He raised his handheld radio to his lips. “Yoon, when we stop, we need to make a security sweep. We may have someone in the truck.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The business consisted of a main store and four closely grouped warehouses next to it. The steel buildings were painted a grass green with white trim, featuring the company name on the sides. Inventory included garbage cans, bags of dirt, paving stones and other landscaping and farming supplies lying around in neat stacks.

  Two of Myung’s unit had visited the business, picked up a few bags of fertilizer and marked the location of the ammonia nitrate. It was now up to Seonwoo and his team to grab as much as they could, as quickly as they could. Seonwoo’s driver, Rang, had been one of those recon operators.

  Seonwoo pulled out his Baek Du San and threaded a suppressor onto the muzzle. With Interstate 80 only fifty meters from the parking lot in back, the last thing they needed was for anyone passing to hear gunshots. Like his men, he was dressed in all black and wore gloves and a ski mask, currently pulled up so that his face was exposed.

  “Rang, stop here. Once we’re out, head for the warehouse.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  As soon as the truck stopped, Seonwoo pulled his ski mask down over his face, climbed out of the truck’s cab and dropped to the ground. From the rear of the truck, Yoon and the other two members of the team appeared, each carrying their own silenced Baek Du San pistols, also wearing ski masks. The truck rolled past the building and headed for the warehouse.

  “Ready sir,” Sergeant Yoon said softly. Under the ski mask, he was moon-faced, with a shaven head and wide brown eyes that had fooled more than a few people into thinking he was naive. Many never lived long enough to realize it was a mistake.

  “You and Dae check the warehouses. Ryeon and I will check the truck and the store. Be alert for alarms and cameras. Leave no witnesses.” The pairs split up and moved off in different directions.

  Seonwoo lead the way, Ryeon behind and six steps to his captain’s left. They reached the building’s shorter side and flattened themselves against the wall as a car passed on the main street only twenty meters away. The pair was concealed in darkness and in shadow, but Seonwoo watched the car until it drove out of sight. He counted to ten, sidestepped to the corner and leaned around to take a look at the pickup parked in front of the store. He could see two figures inside, neither moving.

  He pulled back and signaled to Ryeon with his free hand. The corporal nodded and the two threw themselves around the corner and charged the truck. Seonwoo took the driver’s side, Ryeon the passenger’s. There was still no movement from the vehicle’s occupants. With a nod from the captain, the pair grabbed the door handles with their free hands, their pistols pointing into the pickup’s cab. They yanked the unlocked doors opened.

  The strong aroma of alcohol hit Seonwoo like a slap. The driver — overweight, thinning hair and red face — was asleep. Seonwoo fired twice, the two 9mm rounds striking the drunk driver in the head and spraying blood over the back window. On the other side, Ryeon killed the sleeping passenger in similar fashion. They closed the doors and continued along the storefront, checking the front door but finding it locked.

  They turned and headed for the warehouses. Seonwoo brought his radio to his mouth. “Yoon, we found two drunks and eliminated them. Any problems?”

  “None. We found no one.”

  “Get to the nearest warehouse. We are behind schedule.”

  By the time he reached the warehouse, Dae had already picked the lock and opened the doors.

  “Get the truck inside.” Seonwoo said.

  Rang backed the truck far enough into the warehouse so that the doors could be closed. Seonwoo ignored the earthy smell of the fertilizer stacks and watched his men work. As Rang guided the truck deeper into the warehouse, Yoon was showing Dae where the ammonia nitrate was, in a chicken wire and wood enclosure twenty meters from the door. They made short work of the padlock and opened the doors.

  Seonwoo considered the dozen pallets inside the enclosure. “Rang, get the forklift. Yoon, stand by to secure the cargo. Ryeon, locate the fuel oil. Move!”

  In less than five minutes the first pallet of ammonia nitrate was on the truck. Ryeon returned with several cans of fuel oil and joined his captain and sergeant in shoving the next three ammonia nitrate pallets into the truck.

  In twenty-five minutes, the truck was crammed full of ammonium nitrate. Seonwoo pulled out a knife and motioned to the remaining bags “Open them and spread it around. Ryeon, spread the fuel oil around, including that wood. Yoon, find the sprinkler system and disable it.”

  It took them a few more minutes to carry out these steps, at the end of which Seonwoo surveyed the handiwork. Satisfied, he nodded. “Let’s go.”

  Rang eased the truck out of the warehouse and stopped. Seonwoo climbed out of the vehicle and walked back to the w
arehouse, a road flare in one hand. As he reached the now-nearly closed doors, he lit the flare. He stepped up to the opening and threw it inside. He watched it fly end over end until it landed in a patch of fuel oil, instantly setting it alight. He turned and walked away as Dae closed the doors and locked them again. The truck left the business without anyone noticing them.

  Seonwoo waited until they had merged onto Interstate 80 before he used his phone.

  “Yes?”

  “Job’s completed, a couple of minor problems taken care of.”

  “Good. After you deliver your cargo, I have a new task for your team for tomorrow. I will explain when you arrive.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The line went dead and Seonwoo settled back to watch the road ahead.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  South San Francisco, California

  3:55am

  The third objective of OUTCAST’s busy night was a warehouse in South San Francisco, a separate town south of the major city. According to Danielle, the warehouse was a shipping point for weapons and contraband. The building, a massive one-story affair with a brick front emblazoned with the name Kopen Brothers Shipping, was less than a mile from Interstate 101 to the west and San Francisco International Airport to the south.

  Dante, driving a dirty white delivery truck with no logo or other identification anywhere on it, turned onto the cul-de-sac where the warehouse was located. His Colt Command/M-203 combo was under a blanket next to him, and wore his SIG-Sauer P229 under his coat. He spoke into his radio transmitter as he approached the target.

  “Objective in sight. One guard at the gate, armed with an AK.”

  “Copy, Five.” Tanner occupied the rear of the truck, along with the rest of the team. They were dressed in black and wore NVGs. “Base: Ready for blackout.”

  Danielle’s reply was instantaneous. “Copy, Prime. Blackout will commence in five…four…three…two…one. Blackout in effect.”

  All the lights in the vicinity cut out, plunging the area into darkness with the exception of the truck’s headlights.

  Tanner looked at his watch. “We have three minutes from now.” He and the others pulled their balaclavas into place.

  Naomi opened the truck’s rolling door, the sound grating in the still night air. She and Tanner positioned themselves on the edge and waited for Dante to slow the vehicle to a crawl before climbing down and hopping off.

  When Dante turned into the warehouse’s driveway, he accelerated, going from a crawl to twenty miles an hour in seconds. The gate guard momentarily froze as the truck came at him before self-preservation took over and he threw himself out of its path. By the time the truck smashed into the gate, it was doing more than twenty-five miles an hour, the truck’s speed and weight more than the gate was designed to stop. The barrier smashed apart and the truck shot through the opening with little loss of speed.

  Tanner pointed his Commando at the warehouse office’s front door and stroked the trigger of the M-203 under the submachine gun’s barrel. The HEDP round smashed through the office’s front glass door and exploded, the sound and sight shattering the peaceful night. Replacing the spent grenade with a buckshot round, they quickly moved toward what had been the front door but was now a gaping hole.

  Danielle’s scouring of the records indicated there were somewhere between six and twelve guards at the warehouse at any time of the night. There was no telling how many there were now, so Tanner had opted for a two-prong attack — he and Naomi would approach from the front and draw the enemy to him while Liam and the others hit them from the rear.

  The gate guard staggered to his feet and tried raising his AK-47 at them, but Tanner hit him with a five-round burst from his Commando that dropped the 49 in his tracks. He and Naomi ran for the smoking hole where the office door used to be and stepped inside.

  The office lobby and waiting area ceased to exist in the aftermath of the explosion. With great caution, both OUTCASTs moved into the adjacent office area using their NVGs to see in the darkness. Three computer desks—two to the left and one to the right—occupied the space along with a receptionist desk behind them. All were blanketed with dust and debris from the explosion, with the closest desk on the left broken in half from the force of the blast that ripped apart the sheetrock separating the office from the lobby.

  Tanner swept left while Naomi swept right, each turning one-eighty but finding no one. Tanner spotted two doors in the corner next to the receptionist desk. Signs identified them as restrooms.

  As he watched, one of the doors opened and bloody man stepped out, raising his Mossberg 500ATP shotgun. Tanner and Naomi hit him with twin volleys of 5.56mm rounds. The projectiles punched into the Triad hardman’s face and upper chest. The dying thug slammed into the doorjamb and fell back into the restroom.

  Satisfied he was dead, Tanner moved off to the left. Naomi took right, and both progressed toward the swinging doors at the far end of the office.

  Upon reaching them an explosion, rocked the rear of the warehouse.

  #

  The truck raced the entire length of the warehouse before Dante slammed on the brakes and turned the wheel to the left. The big vehicle slid to a stop, its open rear facing a trio of empty loading bays.

  “The one in the middle!” Liam raised his Commando and fired the M-203. Stephen was half a second slower and both HEDP grenades obliterated the loading bays’ wooden door.

  “Five! Floor it!”

  Dante shifted the truck into reverse and pressed down on the accelerator, sending the truck hurtling back toward the still-smoking opening. He waited until the last second before twisting the wheel to the left to send the truck into the middle bay, slamming on the brakes had hard as he could. Wheels screaming, the truck slid into place, striking the dock’s bumpers with enough force to flatten them and nearly knock Liam and Stephen over. Liam opened the M-203’s chamber, letting the spent shell drop to the truck bed. He slipped in a buckshot round before closing it again.

  “Four with me. Five, stairs to your right, twenty feet away. Move!”

  Liam slipped through the thinning smoke with Stephen behind and to his left. A pair of bleeding bodies lay on the ground, not too far from the destroyed door. A third man, bloody but still on his feet, tried to raise his Daewoo K2 assault rifle, but Liam’s Commando spoke first and the man became even bloodier as he buckled.

  Gunfire from their left forced the pair to take cover behind a cargo pallet stacked with wooden crates. Three Triad hitters fired blindly from an open doorway fifty feet away, the two AKs and single FN FAL rifle slamming dozens of 7.62 rounds into the wooden crates, shattering their contents. Stephen and Liam moved to opposite sides of the pallet and returned fire.

  “Two to Prime,” Liam transmitted. “Entry made. Three Tangos down. Your status?”

  “Pinned down,” Tanner returned. “Shipping office. Two Tangos are down on our end.”

  The shipping office was a small room with barely enough space for a pair of desks and a counter under a large window looking into the warehouse. Swinging doors on either side of the window gave access into the warehouse, and the door behind them led into the office. They could both hear gunfire echoing in the warehouse.

  Both OUTCASTs were crouched behind the desks as at least three streams of bullets tore through the air over their heads and ripped holes in the sheetrock behind them. The large window was shattered in the first volley, leaving shards of glass everywhere. They raised their Commandos high enough to fire short bursts over the desk and out the window.

  Somewhere in the back of the warehouse there was another explosion. Dante’s tense voice erupted over the radio. “This is Five. Entry made. Three more Tangos down.”

  Tanner nodded to himself. It looked like the guard force was on the high side. “Two, bring Four and Five forward. We’ll catch the rest of the Tangos in a crossfire. He glanced at his watch. “Two minutes.”

  #

  Liam leaned out and motioned for Dante to come ove
r. Behind Dante, the three Triad shooters were in a pile by the doorway, dead from the one-two punch of the exit door behind them exploding from a 203’s grenade and Dante’s Colt follow-up.

  Stephen faced the front of the warehouse, his Commando covering the closest approaches to their location—a pair of aisles leading toward the front offices. They could hear the gunfight ahead of them.

  Dante reached them. “How do we do this?”

  Liam motioned as he spoke. “You two take the left aisle, I’ll take the right. We go down and shoot anyone that isn’t our side.”

  They started down the aisles, moving at a fast walk. The aisles were bordered by twenty-foot tall shelves, each steel shelf five feet above the one below it. The shelves were stocked with a mix of wooden crates and cardboard boxes. Liam noted that several of the crates bore markings from both the U.S. Army and the Marine Corps. He snapped a phone cam picture of the crate’s serial numbers before moving on. Ahead, the gunfire became less intense as each side either ran low on ammo or planned how to end the stalemate.

  Liam spotted a man in a three-piece suit with an AK-47 slung over his back, climbing up a ladder thirty feet ahead of him. Liam moved to the left until he was standing next to the shelves. He raised his Colt Commando and fired two bursts. The 49 released the ladder and fell to the concrete floor with a wet smack. “Two to Prime. Another Tango down.”

  Gunfire erupted out of the darkness ahead, aimed at Liam. He dropped to the floor and made himself as small as possible while returning fire. Sparks from the bullets’ impacts on the shelf above showered him. After a long burst, the gunman pulled back. Liam moved ahead and to the opposite side of the aisle, where he changed magazines.

  Tanner spoke into his radio “All members: Stand by for some thunder and lightning.”

  #

  Tanner pulled the pin on a flash-bang grenade and lobbed it through the shattered window. Naomi’s flash-bang was a couple of seconds behind his. They hunched down behind the desks, put their hands over their ears, shut their eyes tightly and opened their mouths. The bright light and ear-shattering boom, despite being shielded by a wall and two desks, was still enough to stun the pair for a couple of seconds. Tanner wasn’t sure, but he thought he could hear screams amid the explosions.