The Korean Gambit

by Charles DeMaris

  “Well, what do you have?”

  “You’re going to need to issue another statement about the bombings.”

  “It wasn’t the A-rabs?”

  “Not even close. I’ll give it to you in a nutshell. The drivers of the cars were all Arabs, but they were victims just like the people in the hospitals. Each driver was an Uber driver. The perpetrators each took an Uber ride from an Arab driver, hacking the system in some cases and in others they just canceled each driver until an Arabic name showed up. Each passenger was a young man posing as a college student. Each one had explosives in a book bag, along with a chip that was left behind, allowing remote control of the vehicle. The passenger is dropped off at the hospital and exits the car, leaving the bag behind in the back seat. By the time the driver notices, it’s too late. He doesn’t have control of the car. The cars were remotely driven into the parking garages and detonated.”

  “So, you’re telling me thousands of people were blown up by a bunch of hackers?”

  “It would appear so.”

  “Who are the hackers?”

  “They’re Russians.”

  “Moscow is behind this?”

  “Not Moscow. A Russian group operating outside of the government. Apparently, they got ahold of some serious intel on this group and are still in the process of deciphering it.”

  “So, there’s some rogue Russian killing Americans, on our soil, and we don’t know who he is?”

  “I think our friends are holding back on us, if you want my opinion. They think it’s the same man who was behind the foiled attack in Miami, and the bus station bombings before that.”

  “What do you think we should do?”

  “For starters, you need to retract your earlier statement, but don’t disclose too much. We have evidence the recent attacks weren’t carried out by Muslims and the investigation is ongoing. You don’t really have to lie. That’s about all we know for now.”

  “Do you have any more information on who our friends are or where they’re operating from?”

  “Their communication is too well encrypted. We could probably crack it, but that would involve allocating a lot of resources that could be better used elsewhere. I think they’re on our side, so my advice is to leave them alone.”

  “Leave them alone? If what you tell me is correct, they’re probably responsible for taking out the planners of the Miami attack they stopped. We have a private organization playing judge, jury, and executioner.”

  “I don’t have to remind you that there were two highly placed moles in our government and they found them and removed them, something the CIA and FBI failed to do, mostly because those two moles ended up heading each organization. With that recent history, I wouldn’t blame them if they don’t trust us.”

  “And you trust them and think they should be left alone to do whatever job they’re doing.”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I think…and that perhaps down the line we should consider a partnership of sorts.”

  “A partnership?”

  “Deniability for some of the…uh…blacker ops we have to run sometimes. If we either push some work their way, or stay out of their way when it comes to some of the more sensitive intelligence ops, we have deniability if something blows up. Maybe with time they’ll trust us enough to be more transparent, but for now, I don’t blame them one bit. They had the intel in time to stop the bus station bombings and we dropped the ball. I think that’s how they wanted to operate in the beginning, and the first bit of intel they pass our way doesn’t get acted on and hundreds of people ended up dead. Now they’ve upped their game and they’re acting themselves. We’re lucky they shared anything at all with us at this point.”

  “So why did they share this recent bit?”

  “Most likely to give you a chance to issue that statement.”

  “Well then, I will bow to your greater expertise. Could you send Michelle in to see me? We’ll need to get to work on that right away.”

  27

  A few hours later, Jenny came by Ahmed’s desk and pulled up a chair.

  “Got anything yet?”

  “Some more of the files are deciphered. Some of them are useless, but this one is interesting.”

  Ahmed clicked a folder and opened a file.

  “Seems Mr. Kazakov is a paranoid fellow and is increasing the security at his compound. I don’t know how much of this was in place when Rachel was there, but it’s quite thorough.”

  “Speaking of Rachel…have you seen her?”

  “She’s still here somewhere. She was in the hot tub earlier, but that was hours ago.”

  Jenny rang Rachel’s phone and heard it ringing a few feet away. Rachel showed up a few seconds later and pulled up a chair.

  “You rang?” she asked.

  “That was rather quick. How’s the leg?” Jenny asked.

  “Still hurts like hell, but it’s more mobile. The hot tub and the sauna worked wonders.”

  “We have some pain killers.”

  “Not now. They make my brain muddled. Maybe later.”

  “Have it your way. Take a look at this file Ahmed just opened. Can you shed any light on it?”

  “Motion sensors, anti aircraft batteries, mines…those are new. I can’t recall the lawn being mined, unless I got lucky sprinting across it. Is he expecting trouble?”

  “You tell me. Did you notice anything?”

  “Well, Yuriy wasn’t sitting there telling me all of his evil schemes like they do in the movies. I was busy trying not to get shot.”

  “How much can you remember about the layout of the compound?”

  “Quite a bit actually. You think we’ll need that?”

  “Most likely not.”

  “Guys, got more files available now. Should we have a look?”

  Ahmed opened more files and there was one of Rachel, with photographs and extensive biographical information.

  “I should be flattered,” she said, “but it’s kind of creepy.”

  “It’s obvious he saw you as a threat, but why?” Jenny asked.

  “Loose end. That’s why he sent his thugs after me.”

  “There’s no way he could have known of us or your involvement with us, but since he ordered the hit on your parents and you survived…”

  “Exactly. They questioned me like they really didn’t know how much I knew. They were fishing big time.”

  “How did you get out of there anyway?”

  “Big bastard thought he’d have his way with me. Men are easier to kill with their pants down. Then it was just a matter of taking his gun and his key cards, and his finger.”

  “His finger?”

  “Yeah, fingerprint scanner on the basement door where the computers were.”

  “Good thing it wasn’t a retinal scanner,” Ahmed said.

  “Yeah, that might have been awkward.”

  “So, you don’t think those other security measures were in place yet?”

  “It didn’t look like it. There were snipers on the roof, probably with night vision scopes.”

  “Good thing he wasn’t a better shot.”

  “He probably was. Knife deflected the bullet a bit. Where’s Casey?”

  “He’s got a date,” Ahmed said.

  “And Miriam…she’s on a date too?” Jenny asked.

  “Judging by the smile on her face when she left…”

  “I’m the married one here and my employees date more than I do,” Jenny said with a shake of her head.

  Rachel left and came back two minutes later with sandwiches and soft drinks, handing one of each to Jenny.

  “Here you go, boss, dinner’s on me. You can call it a date if you want.”

  Casey and Kathy finished their dinner at Jeff Ruby’s and walked to the Aronoff Center, taking their seats fifteen minutes before the start of the show.

  “I never pictured you for a musical guy,” Kathy said.

  “I’ve never been to one. You don’t know until you try it, right?�
�

  “How much were these tickets anyway?”

  “Enough.”

  “And that dinner?”

  “Was it good?”

  “It was excellent.”

  “That’s all that matters.”

  “You trying to impress me?”

  “Is it working?”

  “Maybe.”

  “I hope so. I’d like to think I’m not wasting my time.”

  “So how was Stockholm?”

  “It was nice, but I wasn’t there long. Met with the client, he agreed, caught the flight back. Got some nice beaches there.”

  “With a lot of beautiful Swedish girls on those beaches too, right?”

  “I didn’t notice.”

  “Come on, there had to be one that caught your eye.”

  “Well…there was this one brunette…”

  “I knew it.”

  “But she wasn’t my type. She didn’t like football.”

  Yuriy woke up from a deep sleep to an insistent knocking on his bedroom door.

  “This had better be good,” he yelled from his bed.

  “One of our American agents thinks he’s located one of the men from Stockholm,” Pavel said, walking in and taking a chair next to Yuriy’s bed.

  “What was that?”

  “One of the black men from Stockholm. He’s turned up in America. Our agent says he’s in a theater.”

  “Any chance he can take him alive?”

  “It’s in an urban area and we only have one agent there.”

  “Is there another agent close?”

  “About four hours away.”

  “What’s your opinion?”

  “Have him take out the American. If he loses him, there might not be another opportunity.”

  “I trust your judgment. Inform me when it’s done.”

  “All that money on dinner and the show, and you couldn’t spring for the valet,” Kathy said as they walked out of the theater after the show.

  “It’s such a pleasant evening, I thought the walk would be good. We can go by the square for a bit and hang out by the fountain, maybe get some dessert if Graeter’s is still open.”

  They left Graeter’s a few minutes later and walked toward the parking garage licking ice cream cones as they went.

  “I haven’t had an ice cream cone in ages. This is pretty good,” Kathy said.

  “It’s our local treasure. You take it for granted when you grow up here.”

  “If it’s okay with you, I think we need to be getting back. I have an early day tomorrow.”

  “Who are you interviewing?”

  “Couple high school football players and the Xavier coach.”

  “Sounds like a busy day.”

  “They’re all in the morning. I should have the afternoon free.”

  “If I’m not too busy with work…”

  “That would be good.”

  “Now what level were we parked on again?” Casey asked when they got to the parking garage elevator.

  “Third level, to the right of the elevator. You’re as bad as my dad.”

  They entered the elevator and right as the doors were closing, Casey thought he spotted a black clad figure darting into the stairwell. They rode up two levels and exited, and there it was again, a figure exiting the stairwell and slipping behind a concrete pillar.

  “Hold on a sec. You see that?” he asked.

  “See what?”

  “Dude over there, came from the stairs and hid behind that pillar, like he was trying to keep from being seen.”

  “I don’t see anything. Are you sure?”

  “It looked like someone trying to hide.” Casey walked around along the wall to try to get a look behind the pillar and saw the glint of an outside streetlight on metal.

  “Get down,” he yelled as he rolled behind a pillar next to him, just as three rounds gouged a groove in the concrete where he had been a second earlier. The only sound was the muffled spit of a suppressed weapon.

  Kathy let out a scream and ran to hide behind a car as more rounds narrowly missed her.

  “Casey, why is he shooting at us?” she screamed, as another round shattered the car window she was hiding behind.

  She peered out from behind the car and saw Casey reach behind his suit jacket and pull out a pistol.

  ‘What the hell,’ she thought to herself, ‘Has he had that on him all evening?’

  Casey started to move from behind his cover when two more rounds whizzed by and thudded into the wall behind him. He rolled out of the way and came up into a crouch, pistol out and trained where the shots had come from. He squeezed off a round, but the other man ducked behind the pillar. Casey sprinted behind another pillar just as another round missed and struck a chunk of concrete out of the pillar he had just left. He stole a glance to his right just as the other man was coming out to take another shot. He had his pistol up and in one motion he trained it on the other man and squeezed the trigger.

  The other man’s pistol clattered to the floor as his hand went to the wound in his side. Casey ran ahead, kicking the pistol farther away and stopping over the man he had just shot.

  “Who are you? Why were you trying to kill me?”

  The man just looked up at him and grinned, a trickle of blood coming out of the corner of his mouth. He appeared to be wearing some kind of tactical gear, but Casey had shot him below the vest. Casey repeated his question and the man just looked up with the same grin on his face. It was then that Casey noticed an object in his left hand, the thumb starting to depress a button.

  “Run,” he yelled to Kathy as he started sprinting toward the other end of the garage. They made it maybe twenty yards when the shock wave from the explosion threw them both to the ground. He got up to his knees and assessed himself, no injuries that he could tell. Kathy was saying something that he couldn’t make out over the ringing in his ears.

  “I said, are you okay?” Kathy asked for the third time.

  “Yeah, I think so, how about you?”

  “Just got the wind knocked out of me, and my ears are still ringing.”

  “Hold on a second.”

  Casey walked back toward the other end of the garage, and his worst fears were confirmed. His car was a smoldering pile of burning rubble, and the man who had triggered the bomb was lying just a few feet away, dead. He got his phone out, pulled the man’s balaclava off his head, and took several photos of his face, before walking back to Kathy.

  “Let's get out of here,” he said as he started walking toward the stairs.

  “We can’t take your car?”

  “That was my car.”

  “Shouldn’t we wait for the police, file a report?”

  “I don’t think the police are going to be much help.”

  “What? Some guy tried to kill you and you don’t think they can help?”

  “Probably not in this case. Let’s keep moving.”

  Kathy wasn’t believing what he was saying, but she was in too much shock to protest, so she just followed him. They walked out of the garage, over to Walnut, up Walnut to 8th, and across 8th to the familiar green and white striped awning of Arnold’s Bar and Grill. As they were walking, two police cars passed them going toward the parking garage, sirens blaring. Casey stopped under the awning.

  “Let’s wait in here. It looks quiet enough.”

  They took a table in the back corner of the bar and sat down. Casey ordered a couple Cokes and took a look at Kathy, who was still trembling.

  “I could use something stronger than a Coke about now,” she said.

  “We need to keep our heads clear, and make sure there’s not anyone else.”

  She looked at him, amazed at his calm demeanor, and noticed that his eyes were scanning the entire room.

  “What exactly do you do for a living?”

  “Soon enough, but not now. We need to get a ride.”

  He took out his phone and emailed the photos of their assailant and then followed it up with a phone c
all a minute later.

  “Hey Casey, what’s up?” Ahmed asked.

  “We need a ride.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “I can’t say right now. Can you get us a ride in from downtown?”

  “Miriam’s on the way back. I’ll call her and have her pick you up. Where are you?”

  “Arnold’s on 8th. Take a look at the photos. We’ll talk more when I get there.”

  28

  They had just finished one Coke and ordered a refill when Casey’s phone buzzed with a message.

  I’m outside.

  “Ride’s here. Let’s go.”

  Casey stopped by the bar, paid for their drinks, and they went outside and got in Miriam’s car.

  “Hi Miriam, this is Kathy Reynolds.”

  “Hi Kathy, I’m Miriam. I work with Casey.”

  “We’re going to need to stop at your hotel on the way. You’ll need to check out,” Casey said to Kathy.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. We can’t be too careful. I’ll fill you in when we get there.”

  “You sure got here fast,” Casey said to Miriam.

  “I was just over in Kentucky when Ahmed called.”

  “What were you doing over there?”

  “Having dinner with a friend.”

  “I hope we didn’t cut anything short.”

  “No, he was just dropping me back at my car. What’s going on?”

  “We’ll talk at the office.”

  Kathy found herself trembling again and leaned her head on Casey’s shoulder. He put his arm around her, but said nothing, as Miriam drove to Harrison in silence, only stopping at Kathy’s hotel to grab her things and in Walnut Hills to pick up Wilma Reddick. When they entered the basement, Kathy looked at the array of high- tech screens and workstations and could hardly believe what she was seeing.

  “Cyber security my—”

  “That’s upstairs,” Casey said.

  “So, what’s all this?”

  “The other part of the company.”

  “The part that taught you how to do what you did at the garage?”

  “That was mostly one man, but…yeah.”