Red Ice (18 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
 

Chinatown, San Francisco

11:52am

The dark blue van painted with the logo of a commercial painting company moved at a leisurely pace. The street on which it traveled was narrow and one-way, with four and five-story buildings on either side, giving it an enclosed feeling. Most of the ground floors were businesses, with colorful signs in both Chinese and English. Traffic was heavy, both vehicle and pedestrian, most people not knowing what was happening only a few miles away. Here, there was no sign the city was under attack.

“There’s Waverly.” Tanner motioned to the street coming up on the left. “The entry should be … right there!” He pointed at a red sign with golden Chinese lettering past Waverly, on the same side of the street. He frowned when he saw two people standing there, one standing in an open parking space in front of the building, the other standing on the sidewalk. “Vessler?”

Choi, who stood in the empty parking space, stepped up onto the sidewalk, allowing the van to take the spot. Tanner climbed out, mindful of the traffic, and went around the front of the van. Vessler met him. “What are you doing here?”

“We lucked out. Bill Derer had to cut his vacation short because a case he’s lead on got rescheduled and the prosecutor wanted a meet today.” She exhaled slowly. “Good news, for once.”

“Not so good,” Tanner replied. He told her about what Casey had relayed.

Vessler’s face darkened. “Son of a bitch!” she hissed.

“Later,” Tanner said sharply. “We have something to do.”

“Top floor.”

Liam, who had climbed out of the van heard Vessler and looked up. “At the top?” he said. “Is there an elevator?”

“Nope,” Vessler replied with an evil grin, then her expression faded into grim determination. “We’d better get moving. We’ve already spotted a couple of the Triad’s senior leadership heading into the restaurant. The meet is on.”

“All right, people!’ Tanner called out loudly. “The sooner we get this painted the sooner we get paid. Move it!”

They unloaded the painting supplies and carried them inside, up five flights of stairs. Vessler led the way, unlocking the door to an office that had
East-Asian Imports, LTD
painted on the glass door. The paint was fading and the door was worn and scuffed from years of use.

The inside was just as faded and worn as the door. Liam looked around. “Very 1940s.”

A wooden desk sat facing the door. Several chairs were off to one side against a wall and a few filing cabinets lined the opposite wall. Some framed thrift shop oil paintings hung on the walls along with a map of the city that was four decades out of date. A wooden door marked “Private” sat opposite the glass door. A single window on the right wall let in enough light to see by. A fine layer of dust covered everything, adding to the room’s overall feel of disuse.

Dante, the last one in, closed the door behind him. “Nice place. Doesn’t look like it does a lot of business, though.”

“It’s a DEA front operation,” Choi explained. “We use it once in a while for undercover operations and for meetings with undercover agents or confidential informants who need a face-to-face. It’s cheaper to pay the rent then it is to scramble for a temporary office set up. We’re just lucky we happen to have this one so close to the meeting point.”

“I’m surprised you never used this place to listen in on Hong’s conversations.”

“Eavesdropping warrants are even harder to get. And even if we get one, there are other problems. First, it’s almost impossible to plant the devices — we’re certain there are Triad gunmen on the premises twenty-four seven, and there’s no way to get an undercover inside the walls. Second, Hong and his lieutenants meet at other places all over town that we know of, and probably some we don’t. So we could do it, but the cost would have Washington screaming like a stuck pig.”

“While they waste even more money billing for gold-plated toilets and holding lavishly catered conferences,” Stephen said.

The team opened the paint buckets, revealing pistols in holsters, magazines, gas masks and grenades. The tarps concealed the Colt Commandos and other equipment.

Tanner looked at Vessler. “Roof access?”

“Through there.” Vessler motioned to the inner office door.

“Liam, come with me and bring Ghost. The rest of you, gear up. Dante, when you’re done, go down to the van and wait.”

Stopping only long enough to pick up a case the side of a laptop bag, Liam followed Tanner and Vessler into the inner office, which matched the outer office in decor and the feeling of neglect.

Vessler pointed to another door. “Ladder’s in there.”

Tanner noticed the hatch in the roof. “I’ll get the ladder. Liam, prep Ghost.”

Vessler watched as Liam placed the case on the desk and opened it. “What’s that?”

Inside the padded case was a tablet and a drone of some sort. Liam lifted the drone out carefully. “This is Ghost.”

The drone was the size of a hardback book, a minimal frame supporting four rotors on each corner and a ball in the middle with a camera. The frame, rotors and the camera housing were all made from a clear material and the parts that weren’t clear were varying shades of gray.

“It’s designed to be used during the day for aerial recon. It’s whisper-quiet and hard to spot.”

Tanner returned with the ladder, placed it below the hatch and climbed up. He unlocked the hatch and pushed it open while Liam picked up powered on the tablet.

Vessler sighed. “You guys get all the fun toys.”

Tanner looked down at Liam. “How much longer?”

“Running system checks now. Not long if they check out okay.”

Stephen walked in. His Commando was slung over his shoulder and his pistol belt had a couple of canisters on it. A gas mask hung around his neck. “We’re ready.”

“We’ll be out in a minute.”

Liam stared at the screen for a few more seconds, then tapped it. At once, all four rotors started spinning with a barely audible hiss.” Liam tapped the tablet again and the rotors slowed to a stop. “It’s ready.”

“Hand it up here and gear up.” Liam took the drone and handed it up to Tanner, who placed it on the roof. The OUTCAST leader then followed Liam out into the outer office. Vessler joined them.

“Prime to Base,” Tanner said into his mic. “We’re gearing up.”

“Copy, Prime,” Danielle said. “The city is a madhouse. Traffic is snarled on the 101 in both directions, the BART has been shut down, and all SFO flights are being routed to other airports. Reports are still fragmented, but it looks like all three incidents are terror acts. The acting mayor is calling for a dusk to dawn curfew.”

“Keep an eye on things, Base. Prime out.”

The team moved back to the inner office, where Liam picked up the tablet. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

Tanner eyed the tablet screen, which showed the roof and its pebbled surface. He tapped the tablet multiple times and gradually, the roof grew smaller as the drone lifted off. After a few seconds the entire roof came into view. Liam tapped the screen and the drone’s camera shifted to face forward. All they could see was a wall.

“Move it to the left,” Tanner said.

Liam tapped the tablet screen and the drone moved left until it was clear of the wall. The view showed nothing but rooftops, each building separated from the next by low walls. In the distance, black smoke rose into the air. “I don’t see any guards on the roof.”

“Take it up another thirty feet and make a run over the restaurant,” Tanner directed. “Then take it over the street so we can see the front door.”

“Taking it up and over.”

The drone moved forward, the camera angling so it could see the rooftops it was flying over. The drone flew all the way down the row of buildings until it was over the next street. “No rooftop guards,” Liam said. “Going for a street shot.”

The drone swung around, located the street then moved above it until it came to a hover over the street. A cluster of men congregated in front of the Black Jade Dragon Restaurant. From this view, the fire escape was visible in front, with a set of stairs that ran up to the roof.

“Can you get a better shot of those men around the door?” Vessler asked. She had drifted around to stand behind Liam’s other shoulder.

Liam shifted the drone and tapped the camera’s zoom to focus on the faces. Vessler squinted at the screen. “I recognize the two on the left. And the guy on the right doing the talking is Meng-hau Cheng, the Triad’s senior enforcer.”

A car pulled up in front of the restaurant and four men got out. “That’s Hong.” Vessler pointed to one of the men getting out of the car.

Tanner clipped a tactical flashlight into place on his belt while eyeing the screen. “Good work, Liam. Bring back the Ghost. Let’s get moving.”

“Could you hold off for five minutes?” Vessler asked.

Tanner glanced at her. “Why?”

“Me and Choi will cover the front door, in case Hong gets away from you.”

“I don’t know—”

“We can also tie up the thugs guarding the door.”

“All right, you have five minutes.”

#

12:05pm

Sangwi
(Senior Lieutenant) Kim Won-shik watched the Black Dao leaders quietly talk among themselves. An air of unease hung in the second-floor conference room, the triple blow of three Triad businesses being violently shut down had struck deep, shaking Hong and his lieutenants’ confidence.

Kim stood in a corner, watching the discussions with an impassive face. Inside, he had nothing but contempt for these men, parasites on the backs of the bloated American carcass. If he had his way, he would have just killed all of them. But he was a soldier and his orders were to observe and report.

He felt the phone in his pocket vibrate. He took it out, looked at the number and accepted the call. “Yes?”

“How is it going?” Rhee asked in Korean.

“Not well. They are scared.”

“They are weak.”

“They have suffered losses.”

“I know why. The enemy is trying to drive a wedge between us and the Triad, to force them into breaking our alliance.”

“What do we do?”

“It has already been taken care of. Check the news.”

A man hurried into the room, went to Meng-hau Cheng and whispered into his ear. The senior Red Pole’s shocked expression put Kim on alert. Cheng shot to his feet and hurried around the table to a television in the corner of the room. He turned it on in time to see an aerial shot of the Golden Gate Bridge. A huge black cloud of smoke rose from the road bed and a massive fire blanketed the entire width of the span. Underneath the video, a running banner in big yellow letters read, “Terrorists Attack San Francisco.”

“I see what you mean,” Kim said to his commander. He wanted to smile, but kept his expression neutral. “My orders?”

“Stay there. The Americans might decide to come after Hong to get to me. If you cannot keep him out of American hands, kill him.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Keep me informed.”

“I will.” Kim disconnected the call and returned the phone to his coat pocket.

“Who was that?” Kim glanced up and saw Kuang Lieh glaring at him.

“My commander, asking for an update.”

“Did you do
that
?” Lieh snarled, pointing at the TV screen, which had switched to a shot of San Francisco Bay.

“The major thought it was time to show the Americans the weakness of their society.”

“Are you insane?” Lieh stood and took a step toward Kim. “The U.S. government will fall on us like a ton of bricks!”

“The Americans are stupid. They will concentrate all their law enforcement resources and efforts on the attacks instead of tracking down the Red Ice distribution network.”

“I don’t care—”

An explosion shook the building. While the rest of the men in the room stood still, Kim spun and ran toward the door. As he reached it, a series of sharp cracks came from outside. He spun back toward the Triad leaders. “Gunfire. We’re under attack!”

#

Tanner dropped through the hole made by the breeching charge, flexing his knees to absorb the shock of the ten-foot drop. He was in a hallway, stairs going down to his left, with a wall to his right. A haze of smoke and dust hung in the air and the only light was from the hole above.

An Asian male wearing only pants and an undershirt appeared out of a room in front of Tanner. His eyes widened as he saw the intruder, and he snap-fired the MAC-10 in his hand. The burst went high, shredding the wall above and behind Tanner. Before the 49 could adjust his aim, Tanner’s return burst knocked him down in a bloody heap.

Naomi dropped in next to him. “Cover the stairs,” Tanner told her. The lithe African-American nodded and dropped to one knee, the muzzle of her Commando pointed down the stairs.

There were four doors along the hall, and only one was open, the one with the dead Triad thug lying in front of it. Opening each door carefully, Tanner found the first two rooms empty but for a couple of cots and an old chair in each one. The third room, the one the dead 49 had stepped out of, was the same as the first two, except for some clothing and a tray of empty plates and cups.

He moved onto the last room. As his hand closed on the door knob and began turning, the door was suddenly and viciously shredded by a wave of bullets fired from the other side. Standing against the wall, the OUTCAST founder yanked his hand away from the door. The gunfire stopped, and he heard loud cursing in Chinese.

Tanner stepped away from the wall and slammed his boot into the half-destroyed door. Pieces of wood went flying as the door sprang open with violent force. He quartered the room with his Commando until he saw the occupant, a skinny Chinese man with tattoos up and down his arms, frantically trying to change magazines on a mini-Uzi. Tanner fired, the 5.56mm burst knocking the 49 into the wall. The now dead gunman slid down, leaving a bloody smear on the wall.

After making sure the rest of the room was clear, they jogged back toward the stairs. “Prime to Two,” Tanner said into his radio. “Status?”