Kill Chain (14 page)

And at this moment in
time, there was only one witness to the event who might be able to help
discover who that person might be—and she was being shuttled to the airport for
immediate evac to Beijing.

And that couldn’t be
allowed to happen.

Yet despite the no holds
barred directive issued by the President, Delta or the Secret Service couldn’t
exactly do anything to prevent the evacuation. It might cause an international
incident that could escalate an already tense situation.

“You’re coming up on them
now. Less than half a klick.”

“Copy that.”

Kane had been pleased to
discover that Control on this mission would be his old high school buddy, Chris
Leroux. The teenage über dork had been his tutor, helping him get his grades up
enough to get into college, and during the course of their long study sessions,
they had become good, if unlikely, friends, he the popular jock, Leroux the
nerdy loner. They had lost touch over the years, their friendship rekindled
after a chance encounter in the Langley cafeteria.

It had been a welcome
surprise, friends who could know the truth few and far between in his line of
work.

A Jaguar F-PACE SUV came
into view as it changed lanes ahead, the distinct white on blue diplomatic
plates matching what Dawson, a former comrade-in-arms, had reported. “Probable
course?”

“They should be making a
right in three hundred meters. There’s much lighter traffic there.”

“Copy that.”

A signal light flashed
and they took an off-ramp as expected, he tucking in behind them, flicking a
switch on his right handlebar. He leaned forward, a Heads-Up Display projected
on the windshield showing his target.

“Taking the shot.” He
pressed the trigger and a small device fired from his heavily customized CIA motorcycle,
embedding itself in the rear of the vehicle. “Sending pulse.” He pressed another
button and a surge of electrical power immediately fried the vehicle’s
electronics, it quickly losing speed and coasting to the side of the road, the
driver probably used to complete electrical failure in a Jag. “Vehicle
disabled.”

He pulled up behind them
and dismounted, pulling his weapon as the passenger door opened. He strode
forward then fired a tranquilizer dart into the security agent, pushing him
back inside as he fired at the driver. A man in the rear shouted and Kane fired
again, silencing him. He looked at the terrified wife of the Chinese President,
the poor woman victimized all over again. He removed his helmet and smiled at
her, speaking in perfect Mandarin. “Mrs. Cheng, I’m not here to hurt you, but I
need to ask you some questions if we’re to save the other hostages.”

A look of relief washed
over the woman’s face as her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. “Oh, thank goodness
you’re here! The voice told me that I couldn’t leave the country, but these men
wouldn’t listen!”

Kane nodded. If the
Chinese were in on the hostage taking, then leaving her in-country certainly
would put her at risk if there were a military response from North Korea. The
fact that she had been ordered to stay seemed to cast some doubt on whether
they were involved.

Unless he hates his
wife.

It wouldn’t be the first
time, though from the intel reports he had read on the couple, he doubted that
was the case. He smiled at her. “Ma’am, I have a few questions that must be
answered before it’s too late. Will you help me save the other women?”

She snapped out a nod.
“Of course.”

“Good. Then let’s begin
with this voice you spoke of.”

Unknown
Location
Republic
of Korea

It felt
like ten minutes though might have been only five—or twenty—before the drone
stopped at another ladder, two new drones blocking Nancy’s path. The original
drone that had led the way immediately whisked out of sight, in the direction
where she had come. She could hear footsteps echoing behind her, the others
making their way, the knowledge of that fact providing her with some comfort.

She wouldn’t be alone for
long.

She climbed the ladder
without prompting, anything that would free her from the confines of this dank,
dark environment welcome. Though it also signaled the end of any hope of being
traced. She had seen enough movies to know it would be almost impossible for
anyone to track them after they got into what she assumed was another truck
overhead.

And she’d never see her
father again if things went wrong.

She looked down then up, none
of the drones in sight—at least not yet.

I have to do
something.

She paused, her hand
coming to rest on her necklace, a gold cross her mother had given her for her
twelfth birthday.

And ripped it off her
neck. She held it out, peering down, trying to aim for the narrow walkway along
the edge of the massive pipe.

And let go.

It fell, the chain
swaying in the air, the cross hitting first, without a sound, coming to rest in
a tiny pile, exactly where it needed to be.

In plain sight.

She closed her eyes and
prayed for a moment that none of the others accidentally kicked it into the
water, and that anyone searching for them would spot it, understanding the
message.

Niner would
understand.

She resumed her climb,
suddenly aware her delay might be suspicious. She caught another glimpse of
freedom, though this time she saw no evidence of humanity, but did hear light
traffic. The underside of the truck once again bristled with technology, and
once again she was left to wonder who had moved the grate, it certainly not any
of the drones they had been witness to.

Robots?

She immediately dismissed
the thought, robots removing drain covers a little too conspicuous to go
unnoticed. Drones she could understand. They could fly for miles. In fact,
according to Jeff, someone on the other side of the planet could control a
properly equipped drone. She assumed these were connected to the Internet
somehow, perhaps through Wi-Fi, more likely through some sort of cellular
connection. And if that were the case, their operator could be anywhere.

Robots, though, were not
so flexible. Someone would have had to place it there, and if they had, then
why wouldn’t they just remove the manhole cover themselves?

It meant they were here,
in Korea.

The North Koreans!

The thought sent a chill
up her spine as she cleared the ladder and pulled herself up into the back of yet
another vehicle, this one much smaller than the last. She stood, hunched over,
in what appeared to be a box van of some sort, benches again lining the walls,
a camera and speaker at the front, two buzzing drones hovering near the roll-up
rear door.

“Pumpkin?”

Her heart leaped into her
throat, a hard ball forming in her chest, forcing its way up.

“It’s Daddy. Can you
hear me?”

“Y-yes!” she cried, her
head spinning in the ridiculous hope he was actually in the truck with her,
unnoticed in some missed corner.

“Are you okay?”

“You’ve got to help us!
They’ve killed four people already! They killed that nice German man and some
others. And I don’t know what they did with the Chinese lady.”

“She’s safe. Don’t
worry about her. You just stay calm and we’ll find y—”

“Touching.”
The
inhuman voice they had all come to fear abruptly interrupted her father’s
voice.
“Now you have your proof of life, Mr. President. Now it is time for
you
to do something for
us
.”

“Daddy!”

A burst of static, then
nothing. She dropped onto one of the benches, battling to control the urge to
sob in self-pity, as the Italian poked her head through the opening in the
floor.

“Who are you talking to?”

Nancy’s head fell back
against the side of the truck as she sighed. “Myself, I guess.” She rose and
took the woman’s hand, helping her up, the others following over several
minutes. She’d tell them about the conversation when they had all arrived,
there no point in repeating it a dozen or more times. Besides, she didn’t feel
like talking right now, she still at war with her emotions, the sound of her
father’s voice at once comforting, at once a reminder of all she had to lose.

He’d die without me!

The thought of him all
alone broke her heart, a tiny fire in her gut igniting, it the embers of a
determination to survive their ordeal, whatever it took, so he wouldn’t die
having lost everything he loved.

The panel slid shut. Nancy
looked about the truck, noticing none of the translators or support staff with
them. She turned to the Canadian, the last to arrive. “Where’s everyone else?”

The woman shook her head.
“I don’t know. No one was behind me.”

Nancy took her seat as
the truck’s engine roared to life. “What do you think they’ll do to them?”

The question went
unanswered, no one daring to contemplate.

Embassy
of the United States Seoul
32
Sejongno Street, Seoul, Republic of Korea

“What is
it you want?”

“To change the world.”

Starling’s eyebrows shot
up. “Excuse me?”

“Mr. President, I am
contacting
you
and
you
alone, for obvious reasons. I have your
daughter. For everyone else, I have their wives. I have no way of knowing
whether or not they actually love their wives, hate their wives, or care in the
least what happens to them either way, however a father loves his daughter.
Always.
Your
attention, I have.”

Starling exchanged a
quick glance with Red, the man a father as well, and he could tell they both
agreed their opponent was right. A parent would do anything for their child,
and a husband would do anything for the woman he loved, but from his own
briefings on his counterparts, he knew at least a few of the “happy couples”
weren’t so happy in reality.

The man was right.

He was the only one who
could be counted on absolutely to cooperate.

“If you tell any of your
fellow leaders about our conversation, or the true motive behind what is
happening, I will kill your daughter immediately. If your actions give any
indication that what the outside world believes is the truth, isn’t, your
daughter dies. Understood?”

Starling’s chest filled
with rage and horror, the desire to reach through the phone’s speaker and into
the man’s throat so he could tear his heart out, almost irresistible.

But this man controlled
his daughter’s fate, so he had to cooperate, to remain calm.

“Yes.”

 “Very well. Mr.
President, your record on environmental protection is pathetic. We represent
the people of this planet, the
one
planet we know is capable of
sustaining life, and we are sick and tired of platitudes from our leaders.”

Starling’s eyes shot wide
open. The environment? These were eco-terrorists? He had expected North
Koreans, perhaps Chinese, even Islamic extremists, but not eco-terrorists. The
very idea was almost preposterous, yet here they were, the loved ones of the
most powerful nations in the world held hostage so those in power would do the
bidding of the nutbars on the other end of this phone call.

“It is time our planet
came
before
the politicians that control our lives and the corporations
that control them. It is time our planet was
first
on the agenda, rather
than last. When climate control treaties exempt the worst polluters, when they
leave the ambitious yet necessary and difficult targets off the table, then
they are not worth the paper they are written on. The world needs a reset, Mr.
President, and together, we’re going to change the future. Together, we’re
going to give our planet, our species, a fighting chance.”