Torching the Crimson Flag

by Conrad Brasso

  Bruce saw a movement at his one o’clock. There was one more hostile in the parking lot. He must have been prone because both of the LaunchPad operators had missed him. The guy was shaking the effects of two flash-bangs and a grenade being tossed into the parking lot. He was covered in dirt and grime but was obviously still determined to see his mission through. Not knowing Bruce was hidden by the staircase, the man was cautiously moving towards the terminal. Locke had to make a judgment call. If he exposed himself and shot the guy, he’d be on the right side of the bush and in the direct line of fire with one of the snipers on the runway. If he didn’t take the hostile out, the man would get into the terminal and become a danger to Trey.

  Just at that moment, Agent Stone tossed his last flash-bang into the room across the hall. Running back to where he was setting up, he slammed the door, crawled over to the side of the window, and waited. When the grenade went off, he popped into the window frame and shot the sniper on the left.

  Bruce heard the grenade, and sprang up, killing the guy from the parking lot with a shotgun blast. He then sunk back into his hiding half expecting a cluster of sniper rounds to rip through the stairs at him. Instead, he heard the second set of shots from upstairs and knew the targets had all be eliminated.

  “Airport cleared,” Trey reported.

  Everyone at LaunchPad cheered and high-fived.

  “LP to Lakota,” Justin said.

  There was no answer.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Michi and Boyd were sitting at a little round table in the tropical-chic oceanside room of the Sheraton Waikiki. Under the influence of the alcohol and the extra chemicals Michi had been surreptitiously lacing into her drinks, Linda Wagner was passed out on the bed, sleeping loudly with an occasional louder snort. As soon as she’d collapsed on the mattress, Michi fished Linda’s phone out of her purse and powered it up.

  “You need a password?” Boyd asked.

  Michi shook her head. “We’re in luck. Her phone unlocks with a fingerprint,” she answered, putting the device on the table. “I have something in my purse from Justin.” She got up, found her purse on the mirror dresser, and pulled out a little black box with a connector cable. “This little guy will upload everything to Saara and Justin,” she said, walking back and taking Linda’s phone off the table. “It has two more ports that we can use to hook up our tablets. Do you have yours?”

  Boyd nodded, got up, pulled one of the two black duffle bags out from under her bed, and heaved it onto the mattress. She opened the zipper and retrieved her tablet.

  Michi took Wagner’s right forefinger and held it to the phone. It lit up and unlocked.

  The two ladies attached all the plugs and sat down.

  “So we can scroll through her phone on our tablets. That’s cool,” Carter commented.

  “I’ll start with the text messages, and you go through the emails.”

  “Okay.”

  It didn’t take long for Michi to find out why Linda had commented when she got her text.

  “Check it out. It’s a text message from another board member of the school. Apparently someone’s school debt was completely paid off. Over $80,000 of it.”

  “Wow. How did that happen?”

  “It doesn’t say. A family with the last name, ‘Kahananui-Jones.’” Michi used their secure app on her phone to text Bora. A few minutes later, she got a return text. “He’s the harbormaster of Honolulu Harbor? His name is Keahi Kahananui-Jones.”

  Boyd looked up, her eyebrows furrowed. “So the wife of a custom container builder gets a text that the harbormaster’s school debt is paid off for his kids?”

  A few minutes later, Agent Carter let out a low whistle, “Michi, there’s an email notification from Linda’s bank that a deposit was made. Just north of $100,000.”

  “Can you get into her bank app?”

  “We need a fingerprint.”

  The two ladies got up from the table and carried the phone, their tablets, and the black box over to the sleeping drunk. Using the woman’s forefinger again, the bank app was duly opened. They went back and sat at the table.

  “That deposit is highly unusual compared to usual deposits,” Boyd stated, scrolling through the bank account history. She went back up to the deposit and touched it to open the details. “It’s from the RF Global Fund.”

  Michi looked up. “RF? Could it be Red Flag?”

  Exchanging meaningful glances, both women felt their adrenaline building with the awareness that they were on to something.

  “There are a ton of emails here. Most of them are pretty boring. I’m going to look around at other things on the phone. Do you think that Helmut and Linda paid the harbormaster’s debt?”

  “I doubt it. Not from the expression on her face when she received the text message. Unless it’s her husband did it without her knowledge.”

  “Michi, I’m looking at all the apps on her phone. She has a calculator app that’s taking up 8.7 gigs of space.”

  “For a calculator?” Michi responded. She pulled out her own phone and checked the apps. “Mine takes up a fraction of that. Not even half a gig.”

  “I’ve heard of these. It seems to work like a normal calculator, but in actuality, it’s an app that allows you to store secret data.” Boyd shot off a text to Justin, and she did, a pin-hole sized green light lit up on the little black box.

  “The upload to LaunchPad is complete,” Imada stated.

  “I think I need to visit the harbormaster.”

  “Maybe it’s a little premature? He could have paid it off legitimately. Let’s send all this financial information to Bora to forward to Jennifer Wu.”

  “Good idea.”

  “Wow! That didn’t take long. Saara cracked the code to the calculator. She says that we should brace ourselves.”

  “What does that mean?” Boyd asked.

  The two entered the number Saara had texted.

  “Oh, my God!” Michi exclaimed in shock. For a moment, she stared, stunned. Silent. Then she got up and ran to the bathroom to throw up.

  Boyd was left at the table, feeling sick herself, staring at the images not so much in shock as in a mixture of disgust and sadness but also with growing fury. Children were depicted in all kinds of luridly inappropriate poses, from seductive pornographic nudes to pictures of child rape and torture. Linda snorted particularly loudly, and for a second, Carter thought she was going to wake up, but she didn’t. The toilet in the bathroom flushed, and the sound of running water from the sink could be heard as Agent Imada rinsed her mouth.

  “You okay?”

  The water turned off. “I’ll be fine. I’m sorry. I just have a weak stomach for things being done to children.”

  “You’re not going to believe this.”

  “I think I’ve seen enough.”

  “There’s a picture here that has Linda in it, too. With some kids.” As Boyd spoke, there was a loud knock at the door.

  Michi came darting out of the bathroom.

  “What do we do?” she whispered.

  Carter was already unplugging everything. She handed it all to Michi. “Put this in my bag.”

  There was another knock. More urgently this time.

  “Just a minute!” Boyd called out. “I’ll be right there.”

  As Imada stuffed everything in the black duffle bag on the bed, zipped it up and stuck it back underneath, her partner snaked a silver mini-Glock out from her bedside table. She tucked it into her waistline, pulling her shirt over it. “Are you armed?”

  “Not with much. All I have is my little Channel clutch. It wouldn’t fit anything except my knife set. The rest of my kit is in my hotel room at the Royal Hawaiian.”

  “Get in the bathroom.”

  The knock sounded again, and Boyd went to the door.

  “Two men in uniform,” she reported. Keeping the door-chain in place, she turned the handle and cracked the door open. “Howzit?” she asked in Hawaiian pidgin.

  “HPD. Open
your door, please?”

  “Honolulu Police Department? Is there an emergency?”

  “Open your door.”

  “Is there a problem?”

  “We’re looking for someone. She was reported as been seen in the lobby with you, drunk. She missed a meeting with our Chief. He said to track her down.”

  “Oh!” Boyd said, sounding relieved. “I’m so glad you’re here. I don’t know what to do with her, honestly.” She closed the door and turned Michi in the bathroom. Silently, she looked over at the lanai and motioned with her head urgently in that direction.

  Imada raced through the room and out onto the balcony as Boyd slowly opened the door. The cops walked in. One was about the size of Fox and looked pretty mean. The other guy was much shorter. Japanese-Hawaiian. By this time, Michi had her phone out and was pretending to talk on it. Seeing the cops, she ended the call and came into the room.

  “There she is,” Boyd said. “We just thought we’d let her sleep it off.”

  “Mind if we look around?”

  Carter shrugged.

  “Is there a problem?” Michi asked innocently. She still looked dazzlingly beautiful in her high-end clothes.

  The shorter cop looked at her and blushed. “We’re sorry to disturb you. But we’ve been looking for Linda Wagner.”

  “She’s not in trouble, is she?”

  “Oh, no. Definitely not. She is a good friend of our department.”

  “Eh,” Boyd said. “You know Kealoha Opunui?”

  The big cop stopped and looked at her.

  “Yeah. I know him. We went to the academy together?”

  “Nah!” Boyd said, smiling. “He’s my mom’s cousin.”

  “Oh, yeah?” the big guy responded, smiling. “You from da Big Island?”

  “Born an’ raised. Kohala-side.”

  “His uncle was my dad’s friend.”

  “No way! You from the Big Island, too?”

  The officer shook his head. “No. But my dad moved there when he left me and my mom. I go hang with him sometimes.”

  Boyd nodded. “Big Island mo’ betta! You know dat,” she said, smiling. “So what you gonna do?”

  “We’ll carry her out and take her home.”

  “I feel so bad!” Michi said, putting her hand on the smaller officer’s arm. “I was having lunch with her. I think that maybe we ordered too many mimosas.” She squeezed his arm. “Thank you so much for taking care of her.”

  “You from here in Hawaii?” the cop asked her, hopefully.

  “I’m thinking about moving here. Boyd is friends with my sister. They met on a student exchange program.”

  “Nice!” There was an awkward silence.

  “Let’s go,” the big cop said, picking Linda Wagner and holding her in front of him like he was carrying a two-year-old. As they were headed down the hall, Michi overheard him talking to his partner. “Brah. She’s so out of your league.”

  The door closed, and then Boyd jerked it open and called down the hall. “Hey, don’t forget her purse and phone!”

  “Thanks, eh?” the smaller cop said, jogging back and getting it. He glanced into the bedroom, where Michi had walked back out onto the lanai and appeared to be on her phone again. “She single?” he asked, nervously.

  “You have a card?”

  He nodded and plucked it out of his pocket. “You think I have a chance?”

  “You won’t know unless you try, right?”

  The guy blushed again and then hurried back down the hallway.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Boa Zhen, Lin Lin Ma, and Bora decided to take a break and were in the kitchen preparing food for everyone. Jasmine decided to join them. Ashley was slowly walking Fox back and forth, using a walker, to continue forcing blood circulation in his leg. He was weak and a bit woozy still, but even so, he wanted to stay close to the action, so they were walking back and forth around the office area. Justin was incredible to watch. He was focused on facilitating the drone footage, while still serving Michi and Boyd in the field. But he was also trying to reach Tank. Saara, too, was right on top of everything and growingly concerned about why Lakota wasn’t answering his comms.

  Leo was in the conference room debriefing with Trey and Bruce. It was a little tricky. The local police department had blocked off the road to the airport and the entryway to the beach parking lot where the helicopter was parked. They’d also set up roadblocks on almost every other road through the area and on the two ferry access points on the north and south ends of the island. Nobody on the LaunchPad team was happy about it. Obviously, they were losing any opportunity to spring a surprise attack on land. But at least, with the help of the White House, Leonard had talked them into staying away from the airport terminal, the Russian’s rental house, and Silver Lake – the most likely harbor that the Doral was headed for.

  “LP to Lakota,” Justin tried, again.

  Suddenly, there was double-tap on the comms! It was all that the LaunchPad crew needed to hear. Tank was alive, at least.

  The trawler had sailed past Raccoon Island, cruised by the harbor in Silver Lake, and was rounding Gap Point. Then it slowed and eased up to the end of the long pier that extended to the back of the Russian’s rental house. It gently bumped against the pier’s rubber tire fenders and a guy hopped out of the boat and helped secure the ropes to iron cleats on the pier’s pilings.

  Nobody on the trawler saw him. He was hidden under the pier. But Tank was taking in every move. And he felt uneasy. His spidey sense was telling him something wasn’t right.

  When the boat was securely tethered, the captain turned off the engines. They were talking in Russian, and he couldn’t understand them, but they didn’t seem happy. He figured they were finding out that all of their compatriots at the airport were standing before their maker, trying hopelessly to justify their lives. All the men began to disembark. There were three who were obviously Russian and most likely military. And then a guy that didn’t look at all like Nathan Harris. His features were distinctly Chinese. Tank waited, expecting the White House translator to get off the boat at any moment, but it was clear as the group started up the long pier, that he was not with them. He stayed hidden waiting till everyone had passed him and was out of earshot.

  “Lakota to LP.”

  All of LaunchPad had been waiting for this moment.

  “Loud and clear,” Justin answered.

  “Our primary target is not here.”

  “Come again, Lakota?”

  “Our primary was not on this boat.”

  “Who did they scoop?” asked Leonard.

  “Some Chinese guy. He’s definitely not, say again not, our primary.”

  “Copy that.”

  Leonard immediately texted David and told him that Harris was on the boat he was chasing to Silver Lake harbor.

  Tank’s voice came on. “They’ll be in the house in ten seconds and will see the busted front door. Advise.”

  Park was zooming in on Tank’s location with the drone. It kept placing him in the water. Suddenly he understood what was going on. He muted his comms. “Tank’s under the pier. Smart. If they’d seen him in the house, they could have just taken off, and he’d have lost them.”

  “There’s no point to him engaging with them and putting his life in danger.” Dr. Stone commented. He paused for a moment in thought, then unmuted his comms. “Lakota. Can you captain that trawler?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Climb aboard and bring it to Silver Lake. There’s a marina there.”

  Tank swam under the pier until he got to land. Then he popped up, snagged his kit out from a bush, and ran towards the boat. He reached the end of the pier, just as the group of Russians discovered the front door. Tank tossed his kit into the boat, turned around and quickly unfastened the ropes, tossed them aboard jumped in, giving the boat a good shove so that it drifted off the pier and back towards the main channel. Tank moved to the wheel and breathed easier when he saw the keys in the igni
tion. It had been a good bet they would be there, but some captains were known to carry them with them. He glanced up and saw that he was a good twenty feet off the pier already. He turned the ignition key and fired up the Monk Trawler. The engines purred quietly to life and he immediately engaged the throttle forward, spinning the wheel to pivot the boat away from the dock. His shove had given him enough leeway that he was able to spin the boat around and clear the pier and the land without having to go in reverse. As soon as his bow was pointed towards open water, he throttled up all the way. The trawler’s engines roared, the props churned the water aft, and vessel surged forward, just as the group of hostiles began spilling out of the house, racing down the little hill in the back yard, firing weapons. By the time they reached the pier, they were yelling and screaming in fury. A few continued to shoot, but in that time, Tank was already out of safely out of range.

  Leonard had been watching the drone footage and was talking on the phone. He hung up and turned to Justin and Saara. “I’ve asked local PD to go to that house and choke it with a roadblock on Cutting Sage Road. It’s the only way to get in and out of the neighborhood. Hopefully, they can pin them down. We’re undermanned and way too spread out. As much as I’d love to take them out or bring them all in, we need to stay focused on Harris.”

  Justin entered the keystrokes to bring up the Doral. David and his boat captain were in hot pursuit.

  “Dr. Stone?”

  Leo turned to Fox. “Yes?”

  “I don’t think the Doral is going to Silver Lake.”

  “Why?”

  “If they know their whole team at the airport was wiped out, and the team at the house is trapped, they have no play. I’m thinking that the reason there were so many hostiles at the airport is because a plane was their exfil strategy.”