Red Ice (11 page)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
 

San Francisco, California

10:55am

It was a weary group of people who filed in to the DEA’s conference room. Liam and Naomi immediately headed for the coffee machine in the corner. The only two people who looked fully awake were John Casey and George Glimsdale.

After the raid, the team had returned to their hotel for some much needed sleep, a shower and something to eat before heading to the DEA office. Casey, who had a suite in the same hotel, met them for breakfast, but had refrained from asking them about the mission of the warehouse, preferring to wait until the more secure setting of the meeting.

Yesterday’s incidents were all over the news. The sniper attack had wounded three police officers, one critically, but the pursuit of the suspects had cost three SFPD officers their lives and left another in critical care. The bomb at the hotel had killed three and injured another fourteen. San Francisco Mayor Nicholle Pagliei had spent forty-five minutes at a press conference railing against the federal Government, the DEA, FBI, and the DHS for ‘endangering the citizens of the city with high-handed and foolish actions.’ There were already a few reporters outside the building, looking for answers from the federal law enforcement agencies located inside.

After Naomi and Liam distributed cups of coffee to the rest of the team, Vessler walked in, carrying an even larger mug of high potency brew, followed by Choi, who closed the door behind him. They took a pair of empty seats and nodded to the others.

Casey, at the head of the table, said, “Good morning everyone.”

“It is morning,” Liam said, sitting down next to Tanner. “The good part is debatable.”

The former FBI director shrugged, leaned back in his chair and looked at Vessler. “Maybe you can bring everyone up to speed on the current situation at the warehouse?”

Vessler glanced down at a sheet of paper in front of her, then looked up around the table. “We have sixteen bodies in the morgue, all Black Dao Triad members. An additional nineteen Triad members are under arrest, seven of them seriously wounded and currently in the hospital.”

She looked at Tanner, who sipped his coffee before replying. “We missed Mori by several hours.”

Vessler nodded. “Fortunately, by the time we showed up the Triad scum were too shell-shocked to put up much resistance. We seized one hundred and ten kilos of finished Red Ice, enough supplies to create a couple thousand kilos of meth, 110 Chinese nationals, including your friend the chemist, and enough stolen electronics to open up a store with.”

“Score one for the good guys,” Liam said.

Vessler folded her arms and stared at Tanner. “Now tell me, what the hell happened in there? A couple of the bodies look like they were fed through a meat grinder.”

“We met with some resistance,” Tanner said. “I told you we weren’t there to arrest anyone.”

Vessler sat bolt upright. “I’ve got other agents asking me what happened! What do I tell them, the government has a black ops team who got there before us? I need some sort of official answer!”

Casey interjected, “Tell them a mercenary team hired by the family tried to rescue Dr. Mori. Neither they nor you knew of the others’ presence, and they retreated when the DEA showed up. We’ve been in contact with the Mori family in Japan and they will back up the story.”

“The defense will have a field day. They’ll claim the mercenaries planted the evidence.”

“They can try, “Tanner said, “but the entire warehouse is evidence, with a hundred witnesses to testify to who was guarding it. No jury is going to believe a cry of planted evidence, even if we had planted any, which we did not. No need.”

Vessler leaned back in her chair and rubbed her temples. “I still don’t like the idea of having your team running around like a bunch of cowboys.”

Liam’s expression looked pained. “We are far from cowboys. It stopped being a law enforcement issue when Rhee and his men showed up. They’re fighting a war—a war you’re not prepared for. We are.”

Tanner leveled a steady gaze on Vessler. “You just worry about building the case against the Black Dao. Leave Rhee and the North Koreans to us.”

Vessler dropped her head to her chest for several seconds, then looked up. “I need some air.” She stood and left the conference room.

After the door closed behind her, Choi leaned forward. “Please forgive her. She hasn’t slept more than four hours in the last three days, even before the pier raid. She’s running on fumes.”

“I’ll order her to get some rest,” Glimsdale said.

Naomi rose. “Let me talk to her. I know her.”

Both Tanner and Glimsdale nodded. Naomi got up and followed after Vessler.

“Tanner, what’s your next move?” Casey asked.

“We’re looking at several more targets. I want to put pressure on Hong and the Triad leadership. If we can get them to stop supporting Rhee, we can make it harder for Rhee to move the Red Ice.”

Danielle looked up from the laptop on the table in front of her. “I’m still working through the records, but I’ll come up with a list of Black Dao businesses. We’ll chose a few and hit them.”

Glimsdale raised an eyebrow. “
Hit
them?”

“Best not to ask,” Casey said.

“I won’t.”

“Rhee will respond,” Choi explained. “If he’s as much of a fanatic as you say, he will push back, and in a high profile manner.”

Tanner nodded. “I don’t think Rhee is here merely to supervise the Red Ice. The ambush at the pier, the explosion at the hotel, and the sniper attack indicate to me that he’s here to cause mayhem on a larger scale than flooding the U.S. with a new drug. Intel indicates he has about thirty Special Forces soldiers under his command. That’s a whole lot of potential trouble.”

Casey agreed. “But he still needs Hong and the Triad to get the Red Ice into the illegal drug distribution network.” He looked down the table at Glimsdale. “Is there anyone else locally that Rhee could go see if his relationship with the Black Dao goes bad?”

Glimsdale pursed his lips and thought for a second. “Local players include the Russian mob, but they’re not likely to deal with Rhee. Most of the others don’t have the resources Hong does. The Mexicans would never deal with him — they seem him as a threat. If Rhee wants new allies, he’s going to have to branch out. Los Angeles would be the obvious choice, but that’s the Mexican drug cartels’ turf. If Rhee tries forcing his way into their markets, there will be all-out war, and he knows it.”

“Which is probably why Rhee is doing what he’s doing,” Liam chimed in. “He’s going to show the Mexicans how tough his army is by taking on the entire country. If the might of the U.S. government isn’t going to faze him, the Mexican cartels won’t either.”

Dante nodded. “Especially since the North Koreans don’t have families to target while the Mexicans do, and the Koreans don’t mind collateral damage in the form of innocent bystanders.”

Glimsdale glanced at his watch. “I have the mayor due in at any moment for a briefing about the recent wave of violence. As you can imagine, she’s under a lot of pressure from the police union and her political opponents to do something.”

“Which means the DEA is under pressure from the mayor’s office,” Choi added.

“I’ll brief her,” Casey said. “I can shift most of the public focus onto the federal investigation.”

Glimsdale nodded and looked at Choi. “If Sarah doesn’t want to give the DEA briefing, will you do it?”

“Of course.”

Casey looked at Tanner. “Your team better make itself scarce in the meantime. I’ve already had the Board of Supervisors President asking if there’s a federal black ops team in town, and definitely don’t want to have to explain to the mayor what OUTCAST is, okay?”

Glimsdale shook his head. “Don’t be too hard on the Board president. Kwan’s good people. He’s already announced that there will be a member of the Board of Supervisors at each police officer and DEA agent’s funeral. He’s always been a strong supporter of the police and federal efforts against crime. He’s faced off against Pagliei more than once when she’s wanted to cut funding to the police department.”

Tanner stood, followed by the other members of his team. “Gentlemen, we need to do some planning. If you’ll excuse us.”
 

#

Naomi caught up with Vessler in the building’s lobby. “Vess, can we talk?”

Vessler exhaled slowly, but didn’t stop walking. Naomi lengthened her stride to keep up with her. They passed through the security checkpoint that led outside, each woman displaying their federal ID badges to the security guards. Naomi noticed a group of people and two news camera teams on the plaza, observed by a pair of uniformed security guards positioned to keep the reporters away from the front entrance. A light rain drizzled, wetting the ground and forcing a few people to hurry along or produce umbrellas.

Vessler turned right and walked down the sloping sidewalk bordered on the left side by a six-foot wall, on the right by a railing, the exit to the underground parking garage beyond that. Naomi matched her stride for stride, their footsteps echoing between the wall and building. The wall ended and Vessler headed for a small seating area surrounding a triangular patch of grass.

Around them the city bustled, some of the noise reflected by a tall stone wall between them and the main entrance. People filled the sidewalks, cars and trucks slogged through the intersections as the traffic lights directed. The surrounding buildings towered above them, making them feel as though they occupied a private nook in the heart of the city.

When Vessler put her foot on a bench, Naomi sensed it was time for the conversation. “Spill it, Vess. Something’s eating you.”

At length, Vessler said, “I’m tired. Not just of this case, but of the job in general and the scum I deal with day in and day out.”

“You’re a damned good agent,” Naomi said.

“Not good enough to keep eight DEA agents and a dozen SFPD officers under my command from the grave.”

“You didn’t know what you were walking into.”

Vessler turned toward her friend, her eyes blazing with anger. “I should have!”

Naomi put a hand on Vessler’s shoulder. “You’re going through a rough patch right now.”

Vessler shook her head. “It’s not just the last couple of days. I’ve been a DEA agent for fifteen years, and I’ve seen more suffering and wasted lives in those years than a dozen people will see in a lifetime. I’ve busted drug dealers with a tenth-grade education, gold-plated AK-47s, two hundred thousand dollar cars, and three million-dollar mansions.” She closed her eyes for a few seconds. “I’ve seen more money in one place then you and I will ever make in three lifetimes, just waiting to be picked up and taken away. I’ve poured my heart and soul in this job, and what do I have to show for it? Not a damn thing.”

“You’re a good agent.”

“Not good enough. The bad guys are winning. When we take one down, another pops up to take their place like some twisted whack-a-mole game. I’m tired, Nay. Tired of not stopping the drugs, tired of watching people get rich on other people’s misery, watching the wasted lives, and seeing that no one giving a damn. Or worse yet, calling to legalize it like that bitch Pagliei.”

“You’re thinking of quitting?”

“After this, yeah.”

“And do what? You’d be bored as a civilian.”

“I don’t know. Maybe teach at a college, or transfer to another federal agency, maybe go into the private sector as a security consultant.”

“Vess, when was the last time you had a vacation?”

“Been a couple of years.”

“When this is over, why don’t you and me take some time off and head for the Caribbean? Tanner has a deal with a friend of his to let us use a villa in the Bahamas whenever we want. We can party, find a couple of island men and cut loose.”

Vessler eyed Naomi. “Jamaica? Warm sand, drinks with umbrellas, nude sunbathing?”

“And more.”

Vessler smiled. “Count me in.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Naomi noticed four men standing on the sidewalk near the intersection, thirty feet away. All were Asian, wearing long coats against the cool rain. The four looked like they were discussing something, but as she watched, they would stop and look around, then go back to talking. They passed a piece of paper around, each man peeling a skin patch from it and applying it to his wrist.

Alarm bells went off in Naomi’s mind. She glanced around. She felt Vessler’s arm stiffen under her hand. “What’s wrong?” the DEA agent whispered.

“Four o’clock, four Asian males in a cluster.”

Vessler nodded, then moved her head casually from head side to side, as if to loosen a stiff neck. “See them. You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Trouble? Do they wave targets of opportunity here?”

They both turned away from the men. “Besides the federal building?” Vessler motioned her head toward Polk Street. “Credit union over there, and the building across Golden Gate is nothing but state offices.” She exhaled slowly. “I’m thinking the credit union. Both the federal and state buildings have heavy security and armed law enforcement officers all over the place.”

Naomi took out her phone. “I’ll call Tanner.”

He answered on the second ring. “What’s up? Vessler feeling any better?”

“Still working on that. But speaking of feelings, I have one of those feelings right now that says now would be a good time for you and the rest of the team to come out and meet me.”

Tanner’s tone became more focused. “Anything solid?”

“Not yet, but the feeling’s strong.”

“We’re on our way down.”

“Okay, meet us near the Polk Street side of the building.” She hung up and pocketed the phone. “They’re coming.”

Just then, Naomi noticed three cars, a limo bookended by a pair of sedans, come down Golden Gate Avenue, cross over Polk Street and roll past the federal building. All four Asians stopped talking and watched the cars roll by.

“Oh, joy,” Vessler said sarcastically. “Her High Honor the Mayor, Nicholle Pagliei has arrived.” She motioned to a news truck following her. “Showboating bitch.”