Red Ice Page 8

  One of the 49s stepped forward, hand raised. He said in Chinese, “The Mountain Lord doesn’t wish to see anyone.”

  Rhee’s jaw tightened. “He will see me,” he replied in the same language.

  “No excep—”

  Rhee drove a spearhand into the enforcer’s solar plexus, followed by a short, hard uppercut to the 49’s chin, snapping the thug’s head back. As his opponent staggered back, Rhee spun and slammed a sidekick into the man’s chest. The 49 flew back until he hit the door hard.

  As the thug slid to the ground, Rhee unholstered his Baek Du San pistol, a North Korean copy of the Czech CZ-75. “I will speak to the Mountain Lord.” His voice was slow and hard as he pointed his pistol at the second guard. He cocked the hammer. “Or I step over your dead body and speak to him anyway. Your choice.”

  The door opened, and Cho Lee, the Triad’s White Paper Fan, or senior administrative officer, stood there. He was pale with short hair and glasses, also wearing a business suit. He looked down at the 49 on the ground, then back at Rhee. “Is there a problem here?”

  “I want to speak to the Mountain Lord.”

  “We’re busy.”

  With sudden speed, Rhee stepped forward and slammed his pistol’s butt between the second 49’s eyes, staggering the Triad member. The North Korean’s hand snapped back and forward again, striking the enforcer on the right side of his face with the Baek Du San’s barrel. The Triad thug half-spun into the door frame, breaking his nose, then slumped to the ground in a daze. Rhee’s pistol snapped up to point at Lee. “I want to speak to Hong.” Lee’s expression of annoyance didn’t change, but Rhee could see panic deep in the man’s eyes.

  From inside the room, Hong said, “Let him in. The sooner he speaks, the sooner he leaves. But only him. His men remain outside.”

  Rhee turned to his men and said in Korean. “Stay here. If I am not out in ten minutes, come in, kill everyone, then execute Plan D.” Muhn and Seonwoo nodded, their eyes as hard as their leader’s. Seonwoo consulted his wristwatch as Rhee walked past Lee and into the room.

  The conference room equaled any Fortune Five Hundred company’s board room. Running the entire width of the building, the room featured paneled walls, with a Chinese motif across the chairs, table, paintings and standing screens. The table was long and wide enough for a dozen people, and sat perpendicular to the door. On the opposite wall, double doors, flanked by a window on each side, led to a balcony overlooking the street. The air was heavy with the aromas of food and cigar smoke.

  The ten men and two women in the room watched him approach the conference table. Rhee immediately identified three of them as servants from the restaurant. Out of the others, the eight men sitting at the table he also dismissed as not important. Hong, the man he wanted to talk to, occupied at the head of the table to Rhee’s right.

  Rhee holstered his pistol. “Gentlemen,” he began in accented English.

  “Your rudeness is intolerable!” one of the men snarled. Rhee looked at the man. Kuang Lieh was the oldest person in the room. He was the Triad’s Incense Master, the man responsible for overseeing the group’s traditions. Unlike most of the others present, Lieh didn’t hide his dislike of Rhee.

  “We have things to discuss,” Rhee said.

  “Can it not wait?” Hong asked. He was trim and lean, a practitioner of the Hung Gar style of Kung Fu. With trimmed iron-gray hair and a round face, Kuan-Tai “William” Hong projected himself as a simple businessman, but Rhee knew that was a facade.

  “It cannot.”

  Hong looked at the servers. “Get out,” he said harshly in Chinese, “and do not speak of this to anyone. Go!” Once the servers were gone, Hong looked at a heavy-set man sitting to his right. “We need two new guards for the door.” The man stood and went over to a phone hanging on the wall, picked up a receiver and barked several words of Chinese into the handset. Then he hung up and walked back to his chair.

  Hong looked at Rhee. “Would you like to have a seat?”

  Rhee shook his head. “I will not be here long enough to become comfortable. There is a problem we must discuss.”

  “That explosion near the Financial District this morning?” Lieh demanded. “Or the sniper attack on pier about the same time? More policemen died today, and the mayor has already promised to find out who did it!”

  “Kuang,” Hong said. “Let the major speak.”

  Rhee nodded. “While it is true that there were a couple of incidents today, neither your men nor mine can be tied to either scene.”

  “What about the four dead ‘suspected terrorists’?” Lieh demanded.

  “More of the same type that died last night. The Americans will look for something that doesn’t exist.” Rhee looked around the table. “One incident eliminated a loose thread that might have caused a problem, while the other was designed to keep the authorities off-balance. However, I will say that the Americans have moved faster than I expected. I believe that the people who rescued the DEA agents last night were a U.S. mercenary assassination team.”

  The heavy-set man sitting next to Hong snorted in disdain. “You watch too many Hollywood movies. There is no such thing.”

  Rhee shifted his eyes to him. Unlike most of the men in the room, he considered Meng-hau Cheng dangerous. He was the Triad’s senior Red Pole, the chief enforcer for those times when violence was needed. Cheng returned the stare, and unlike Lee earlier, there was no fear in his eyes.

  “Then you are a fool. At the pier, my men were chased by men in suits who easily eliminated the four men acting as security for my team. At the hotel, they escaped a trap that should have killed them.”

  Lieh scowled. “That is thin evidence.”

  “Enough!” Hong’s tone cut through the growing tension in the room. “While I doubt Major Rhee’s claim of a mercenary team is real, it is possible there is a team of agents from Washington, D.C. John Casey is in town, supposedly to discuss anti-terrorist matters with the local leaders.”

  Rhee nodded. “In any case, I think it’s time to bring the main lab on-line and discontinue the test lab.”

  “Is that wise?” Lee walked over to a chair and sat. “There are still a few things that have to be finished.”

  “The test lab is too exposed,” Rhee replied. “I think it should be closed down now.”

  “I have a dozen men guarding the lab at any one time,” Cheng countered. “And our friends inside the police department will let us know if there’s a raid coming.”

  “Like they warned us about the rescuers last night?” Cheng opened his mouth, then closed it slowly and nodded.

  Rhee glanced about the table. “This operation is vital to both you and my country. The main lab is in a safe place, known only to you here in this room and a few of my most trusted personnel. Once the lab begins production, the Americans will be helpless to stop the spread of the drug.”

  “You are poking a sleeping dragon with a stick,” Cheng said darkly.

  “Which is why I wish to consolidate all project operations at the new lab. With your permission, I will pick up the materials and the chemists from the test lab tonight and take them to the new facility.”

  “What about the slaves?”

  Rhee waved a hand dismissively. “We have no need of them anymore. The new site has enough slaves, and I do not wish to transport any more to the site.”

  “Very well.” Hong looked at Cheng. “Inform the warehouse guard that Major Rhee is sending a team to pick up the material and people.” Cheng didn’t look happy, but he nodded. Hong looked at Rhee. “Satisfied?”

  Rhee nodded. “We will be done before midnight.”

  “Good. I will have my people move the slaves out of the warehouse tonight. They’ve sat in one place for too long. Anything else?”

  “I have resources looking for the American mercenaries. I suggest you do the same thing.”

  “You can’t believe him!” Lieh shouted.

  Hong settled deeper into his chair. “Under the
circumstances, it’s a good idea. While I don’t believe there’s an American black-ops team, it would be prudent not to take chances.” He looked at Rhee. “Anything else?”

  “That is enough for now.”

  “You could have called.”

  “The Americans have ears everywhere. I do not use the phone unless I have to.” He bowed slightly. “I will leave now.”

  Rhee turned and walked out of the room. Muhn and Seonwoo were waiting for him, as were two new 49s guarding the door. Without a word, Rhee’s men fell in behind him and they exited the building.

  #

  Once outside, Rhee’s car, a dark sedan, rolled up and stopped next to them. Rhee got into the back with Seonwoo while Muhn took the front seat, next to the driver. Night had fallen, and the bright lights left many shadows, Rhee’s preferred time of day.

  Once the car was underway, Rhee took a cell phone, one of three he was carrying, and called a number from speed dial. It rang twice before someone answered in Korean. “Yes?”

  “Our hosts have allowed us to consolidate our assets at the new location. Begin the move now.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Rhee hung up and pocketed the phone. “Sir?” Seonwoo asked. “Do you think these American mercenaries are dangerous?”

  “They have already shown some skill.” Rhee pursed his lips while he appeared to think about this. “Luck has been on their side, too. How soon can phase two of Righteous Blade be implemented with our own men?”

  “Day after tomorrow. What about the shock troops?”

  Rhee snorted. “I have a mission for them.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  San Francisco

  12:51am

  The warehouse was close to both the South Basin and Candlestick Park, less than two miles south from the site of the pier ambush. Two stories tall, made from block and corrugated steel, it was surrounded by a chain-link fence topped with three strands of barb-wire and with installed privacy slats. It sat alone, surrounded by bare ground for several hundred feet in every direction except to the southwest, where a public housing complex was undergoing renovation and expansion. The team had studied satellite shots of the property for most of the afternoon before settling on a plan.

  The two OUTCAST team vans ran without lights and rolled to a stop on a dirt road fifteen hundred feet northeast of the warehouse. Both drivers wore night vision goggles. They parked their vehicles and killed the engines. On a word from Tanner, the teams climbed out and took up positions around the vans. All wore black BDUs, Dragonskin armor with armored knee, elbow and shin pads, watch caps, and had their faces darkened with camo paint. All were outfitted with hands-free communications equipment.

  Since this was a “Black Op” — an operation done without the knowledge of local law enforcement agencies — the team carried an alternate weapons loadout. Instead of their HK MP5s, each member brought a Colt Commando with attached M-203 grenade launcher. The HK SOCCOMS were replaced with SIG-Sauer P229 pistols chambered for .40 caliber rounds, and all but Danielle carried combat knives. Normally, they would all have flash-bang grenades, but if the warehouse was a drug lab, the chances of a chemical explosion were too great should a grenade detonate inside. Instead, Team Able — Tanner, Naomi and Stephen — carried half-a-dozen M576 Buckshot Rounds for the M-203s. Team Bravo — Liam and Dante — had three M406 HE and five M651 CS rounds, as they were staying outside.

  The night was overcast, the first wisps of fog beginning to form. A few outside lights were on in the target compound. They observed the property for five minutes in silence. Then, Steven, Naomi and Dante remained on watch while Tanner, Danielle and Liam went to the back of the second van and opened its rear doors. While Danielle took out a tablet and booted it up. Tanner and Liam produced a strange looking device from the van’s cargo area.

  A friend of Tanner’s had recently started a drone manufacturing company, and Tanner, in return for a six-figure investment in the company, received several drones for the team’s use. The one they had utilized over the pier the night before, dubbed the Night Wasp, was the size of a laptop. This one was larger, about the dimensions of a small bookcase. It had six rotors spaced out around a hexagonal frame and stood three feet high. An HD camera was mounted side by side with night vision and infrared cameras, and all three were mounted under the central housing. The placement allowed the cameras to move 360 degrees on the vertical axis and 180 on the horizontal. The drone sat on three legs with wide feet, and was matte black in color.

  Unlike the Night Wasp, this one, dubbed Night Cobra, had the ability to carry extra payload in the form of a dozen grenades in radio-controlled adjustable clamps attached to the central housing. Tonight, the Night Cobra was loaded with a mix of flash-bang, smoke and tear gas canisters. From the back of the van, Danielle could control which grenades were dropped and when. Intended for sale to police agencies, the Night Cobra was designed to give law enforcement the high ground in any situation.

  “All right,” Danielle said softly, staring at the tablet screen. “I have green on all clamps. Remove pins.”

  Liam and Tanner pulled the grenade pins, the clamps keeping the arming levers in place. “Still green,” Danielle said. “Stand back.”

  Once the pair was clear, all six rotors started up, the electronic hum barely audible even from a few feet away. Slowly, it lifted into the night sky.

  Tanner watched it disappear, then touched his radio. “OUTCAST Prime to Striker: Cobra is airborne.”

  “Copy, Prime,” Vessler returned. Her team, a mix of San Francisco and Oakland DEA agents, was half-a-mile away from the warehouse, at the entrance of Candlestick Point State Recreation Area, across the street from Candlestick Park. “Standing by.”

  It took the drone less than a minute to cover the distance between the team and the warehouse. “Over the target now,” Danielle said, her eyes never leaving the tablet’s screen. After a few seconds, she added, “No one outside the fence. I have six men outside the warehouse. Two by the gate, two on the southeast side near those sheds, and two patrolling the fence line.”

  “Entry points still good?” Tanner asked.

  “Looks like it. You definitely don’t want the southeast end of the compound — any driver coming around the curve from the stadium will see you in their headlights.”

  “The other drone ready?”

  Danielle tapped the tablet screen. “Yes. Cobra’s in a holding pattern over the compound.” She reached into the van and took out the smaller drone. In seconds, it was also disappearing into the dark sky.

  “Prime to team, let’s move.”

  #

  Ten minutes later, the team was moving across the open field in single file, staying low and relying on their night-vision goggles to see what lay ahead. An eight-foot tall rise prevented them from viewing the objective except for the warehouse’s second floor, but it also meant the guards on duty in the yard couldn’t see them.

  “No change,” Danielle said softly. She was monitoring both drones’ cameras — the Cobra over the warehouse and the smaller Wasp over the vans, its sensors able to warn Danielle if someone approached the vehicles.

  The team reached the rise without incident and low-crawled up the slope until they could see the warehouse. Tanner took out a tablet and stared at the scene from the Cobra’s point of view. Between them and the fence was more than two hundred feet of clear land. From the rise, they could see the lights surrounding the compound, the largest lighted area in sight. Through their night vision goggles, they could make out some detail on the three loading bays, with stairs and a door on the left end of the loading docks. The bays were empty of trucks, but the Cobra’s camera showed a few vehicles parked near the fence.

  Tanner looked over at Liam and Dante. “Bravo Team,” he subvocalized, his radio carrying the words to both men. “Get going.”

  “Bravo copies,” Liam replied. He and Dante moved left, staying behind the rise.

  Tanner transmitted again. “Able to Watchdog:
How long before Blackout’s ready?”

  “Blackout’s ready now,” Danielle replied.

  Tanner smiled. “Copy, Watchdog. Wait for my word.”

  “Copy.”

  They lay there silently for ten minutes, Tanner monitoring the screen while Stephen and Naomi scanned their surroundings through their NVGs. Finally, Liam breathed over the radio, “Bravo to Able. In position.”

  “Able to Watchdog. Execute Blackout in ten ticks.” Tanner slipped a buckshot round into the breach of his grenade launcher. Naomi and Stephen also loaded their launchers.

  “Copy. Blackout in ten, nine, eight… .”

  As soon as Danielle said one the lights inside the compound blinked once and then cut out. Tanner surged to his feet, followed by Naomi and Stephen. They raced over the rise and headed for the fence at a full run. As they got closer they could hear Chinese and English shouts from beyond the fence.

  Their objective was a tree next to the fence’s north corner. As soon as they reached it, Tanner and Stephen stopped and dropped to one knee, each covering one side of the tree. Without slowing, Naomi reached the tree and started climbing. Once she was higher than the fence, she moved out onto an overhanging limb. Through her night vision goggles, she could see the guards running around with flashlights, but none were near her. Below her was an open patch between two cars. She rolled off the limb and dangled for a few seconds before dropping to the ground. She crouched next to one of the cars and unslung her Commando. “Three’s in.”

  Twenty seconds later, Stephen dropped to the ground next to her, and thirty seconds after that, Tanner was with them. Looking over the car’s hood, they could see the guards clustered near the loading docks, their flashlights bouncing around, showing flashes of them and the weapons they carried.

  “Bravo to Able,” Liam transmitted. “Go.”