Kill Chain (35 page)

“Conn, aye, making course
two-eight-zero, speed ten knots.”

“Sound collision alarm!”

“Sounding collision
alarm, aye!”

An alarm blared, another
chill racing up Jack’s spine, he only ever having heard the alarm in training.
And no matter how confident the XO sounded with his fly on a windshield
analogy, he had to wonder what might happen if he was wrong.

What if it’s loaded
with explosives?

“Conn reading
two-eight-zero. Speed ten knots!”

Jack flinched as Captain Brandis’
voice sounded inches from his ear, he not noticing his CO leaning in.

“Now let’s see what she
does. Continue pinging her.”

“Aye, Captain.”

The echo became more
rapid as they closed the distance. The three hundred yards quickly became two,
then one, the reverberations nearly constant now.

“Any sign of evasive maneuvers?”

“Negative, Captain, she
hasn’t changed course or speed.” He glanced up at Brandis. “But she’s civilian,
sir, maybe they don’t know what to do.”

Brandis tipped his head
momentarily to the side. “Oh well, that’s his problem, not ours.”

“Aye, Captain.” Jack watched
his display. “Impact in five… four… three… two… one… impact!”

The ship shuddered a
moment later. Slightly. There was definitely significant noise, though no
alarms sounded, no pipes burst, and if they had wipers, he had the distinct
impression the Captain would turn them on.

“Status?”

Jack examined his
readings, his heart racing. “She’s surfacing, sir!”

The XO waved a tablet
computer. “It has an emergency system built in that forces it to the surface if
anything goes wrong.”

“I guess seven thousand
tons of warship slamming into you counts as something going wrong.”

The XO grinned. “Aye, I
guess it does.”

The Captain jerked a
thumb toward the surface. “Let’s join him and introduce Mr. Riker to our brig.”

Over
the Yellow Sea

“What do
you mean it’s empty?”

The Black Hawk pilot glanced
back at Dawson, he receiving an update over his headset. “That’s just it, sir.
The USS Chicago reports that the mini-sub is empty, and it doesn’t look like
anyone was ever inside.”

Dawson felt his face burn
with anger. “Then he’s still on that yacht. Turn us around!”

“Yes, sir!”

The pilot banked hard to
port, radioing an update to Command, the other choppers following suit. It
didn’t take long to catch up to their quarry, it once again skipping across the
waves, heading for China.

“How far are we from
Chinese waters?”

“Less than ten klicks
from what they like to claim.”

“Shit. Order them to stop
immediately!”

“Hawk Zero-Two is already
trying to, sir. They’re ignoring our hails.”

“Get the Apache to stop
them.”

“No can do, sir, they had
to return to base, low on fuel.”

Niner cursed, stepping
past Dawson and hauling the door open. “Get me beside them!”

Dawson let the man do his
thing, he about to do the same regardless. The pilot complied and Niner put a
foot out on the skid, raising his MP5. He emptied a mag into the front portion
of the deck, it impossible for the crew to miss the invitation to stop.

The ship swerved and
Niner reloaded, firing into the hull, near the water line, Hawk 02’s orders to
halt still going ignored.

Dawson shook his head.
“They know they’re close. Distance?”

“Eight klicks.”

Niner reloaded.
“Permission to put some rounds into the bridge.”

“Do it.”

He fired, glass
shattering, the boat swerving away once again, now actually headed in the wrong
direction.

It quickly lost momentum,
coming to a halt as the crew rushed onto the deck, one of them covered in
blood. Hawk 02 took up station about fifty feet off the port bow, its weapons
aimed at the crew as Dawson’s chopper positioned itself over the deck, his team
once again rappelling down, Niner taking point this time.

He rushed toward the
captain, shoving the hot barrel of his MP5 into the Captain’s throat. The man
cried out in pain, Dawson hearing the sizzle as he approached. “Where is he!”

The Captain said nothing
as he dropped to his knees, yet his eyes spoke volumes, darting toward the rear
of the boat. Niner hauled him up, shoving him toward the rear, the muzzle
pressed hard against the man’s back.

“Where!”

A shaky hand pointed to
the dive platform and Dawson spotted a rope going over the rear of the boat
along with a thick, black hose.

Niner spotted it too,
shoving the captain aside and tossing his MP5 to Jimmy before grabbing the rope
and pulling. A few feet were hauled in before Niner began to yank on it, it not
budging.

The Captain stepped
forward. “He strapped in. It special escape system built for owner.” The
Captain actually appeared ashamed. “China not safe.”

Niner glared at him. “Is
he getting his air through this hose?”

The man nodded.

Niner stomped a heel on
the line and looked at Dawson. “He needs air, doesn’t he?”

Dawson chuckled,
activating his comm. “Control, Zero-One. Get me the President, over.”

“Roger that, Zero-One.
Stand by.”

There was a pause then
the sound of shuffling.

“This is the President.”

“Mr. President, we’re
about to have the target in custody. Can you confirm he is still on the
Termination List?”

Riker suddenly burst from
the water, grabbing onto the dive platform then flopping onto his back. He
ripped off the helmet he was wearing as his chest heaved for oxygen.

And there was no
hesitation from Starling.

“Confirmed, Sergeant
Major. He’s at the top of the list.”

Niner looked at Dawson
who nodded, and his friend, his heart filled with vengeance, pulled his Glock
and stepped forward, putting two rounds in Riker’s head.

Outside
Qingdau, China

Kane
stood at the foot of Hang Jian’s bed, feeling a lot better than during his last
visit. Three young, nubile women were draped over the fat bastard whose help
had made all of Riker’s efforts possible, and by extension, had led to the
deaths of thousands in Seoul and across the entire Korean peninsula.

He reached down and
squeezed a painted toe.

The girl stirred, rubbing
her eyes before opening them, she clearly hung over—probably the only way she could
bring herself to sleep with her benefactor.

She gasped.

He flicked his gun toward
the door.

She woke the others and
the bed quickly emptied, leaving Hang to slowly stir.

He opened his eyes and
bolted upright then fell back down, his stomach acting like a medicine ball,
preventing him from sitting up. He groaned in agony, grabbing his freshly
bandaged shoulder.

“You forgot to mention
the yacht.” Kane slowly, deliberately, made a show of screwing a suppressor into
place.

Hang’s eyes bulged. “I-I
didn’t know. I swear! I rented it, yes, but I didn’t know to who!”

“Not true.” Kane finished
threading the suppressor. “My friends checked your accounts, and you received
no additional payments that might be a yacht rental. That means it was part of
the original agreement. That means you’re responsible for what happened.”

Hang scrambled back in
his bed, coming to rest against his leather wrapped headboard. He raised his
hands out in front of him. “Please, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I had no idea what
they were going to do, I swear! I know it was wrong, I know that now, but at
the time, I just wanted the money.” His chin fell to his chest, his eyes
closing. “It was greed.” He stared up at Kane. “Please, have mercy.”

“All you had to do was
tell me the truth.” He gave the suppressor one last, unnecessary though
dramatic, twist. “But you didn’t.”

“These are dangerous
people! I couldn’t. They would have killed me.”

Kane shook his head.
“Actually,
he
was a dangerous
person.
”

Hang’s eyes narrowed.
“He? You mean this was all just one person?”

Kane nodded. “Yes. And
he’s dead.”

Hang breathed a sigh of
relief. “Thank God.” He smiled. “Then I’m safe!”

Kane chuckled. “I
wouldn’t go that far.”

Gimhae
International Airport
Busan,
Republic of Korea

With a
chirp, Air Force One left the ground, the Boeing VC25A quickly gaining altitude
as the pilot executed an emergency evac procedure, comfort tossed to the
wayside as speed was of the essence.

The sooner they were out
of Korean airspace, the sooner they were out of missile range.

Dawson was confident the danger
was now over, however. The shelling had stopped, both sides having taken a
pounding, particularly the North. The President had made certain the message
had gone out the moment the hostages were secured, that the North had no
involvement whatsoever in the events that had triggered what might one day be
called a war, its death toll certainly meriting the title.

This announcement had
resulted in an immediate ceasefire by the North, who took the magnanimous gesture,
claiming they were the better half of the two warring parties. They were of
course denying they were about to buckle under the weight of the massive
pounding they had received, the South having taken to hammering Pyongyang with
zeal once the artillery targeting Seoul had been mostly eliminated.

Whether peace might be
the end result was anyone’s guess.

His money was on the
status quo, though he suspected the North’s saber wouldn’t rattle quite so
strongly for years now that they would have to rebuild their forces.

The South and her allies
had suffered minimal losses on the military side of things, but it was the
civilian casualties that were heartbreaking. Thousands of warheads of varying
types and sizes had hammered the capital, and due to the instant, all-out
bombardment with no warning, millions had been caught in the streets.

Thousands, probably tens
of thousands, were dead, many more wounded, and much of the city was in ruins.

It would take years to
recover.

And the families, those
that had paid the ultimate price in blood, never would.

You can rebuild a house,
but it is the laughter and love of those that were lost, that truly make it a
home.

 
Now might be the time
to move the capital.

Yet it was one thing to
move the government south, it was another to move ten million people, ten
million proud, strong people, who called Seoul their home.

Ten million people he was
certain would be even more attached to their city now that it had been paid for
with blood.

There were still small pockets
of resistance within the city, some of the fifth column still fighting to the
death it would seem, though the greater fear was that many had simply
disappeared into the background, deciding to live to fight another day. Dawson
just hoped that the crackdown to find these people wouldn’t destroy the sometimes-fragile
democracy that was the Republic of Korea, its democracy only a few decades old.