When the Killing Starts (The Blackwell Files Book 8)

by Steven F Freeman

  A man wearing the rank insignia of a full colonel in the South Korean army approached the Santa Fe.

  Alton exited the vehicle and extended his hand. “Alton Blackwell, and my special ops team.”

  “Yes, we know all about you. That’s why we’re here. Oh, I’m Colonel T’ak, by the way.”

  Alton nodded in acknowledgement. He motioned to the colonel’s thin battle line. “Nice ruse.”

  “Thank you—although we got lucky. If this encounter had happened during the day, we would have been overrun.”

  “Then why such a small force?”

  “It was all we could muster on such short notice. Even if we had been given more time, we wouldn’t have had the resources to spare from the Olympics and the Olchin Nuclear Reactor scare. It’s not that you aren’t important. You are. But we’re spread incredibly thin as it is.”

  “You can’t argue with success,” said Alton. “It worked flawlessly.”

  “It did, didn’t it?” T’ak glanced at a sat. phone. “Satellite image shows the Northerners are still retreating. That’s how we knew you were coming, by the way. Agent Vega phoned my boss, General Zheng. He said he lost contact with your sat. phone but that a single vehicle was racing south…while being pursued by dozens of other ones. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that was you on the run.”

  “So General Zheng sent you down to greet me?”

  “Exactly. And provide whatever resistance we could to the Northern juggernaut. Thanks to the dim lighting, we were able to scare them away without revealing our troop strength.” He stepped back to examine Alton and the rest of the team, who by now had joined their commander. “I must say…you all look exhausted. Would you like a ride back in my lieutenant’s vehicle? He has room for the five of you.”

  “That’d be great,” said Alton. “My car is almost out of gas. And so am I.”

  Within a quarter hour, Alton found himself and his teammates tucked away in another, much cleaner Santa Fe—a sleeker model that seemed a little out of place in these harsh surroundings. Had these troops been mustered from an administrative unit? Did that explain their availability? No need to worry about that anymore. The crisis had been adverted. In the end, that was all that mattered.

  Mallory fixed her husband with an accusatory look, eyebrows bunched together.

  “What?” said Alton.

  “What was all that about ‘my wife nags me noon to midnight’?”

  “How else could I tell you the guards’ shift-change hours? You knew what I meant.”

  She grinned. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to give you a hard time about it.” Her countenance grew serious. “It was a great coded message.” Slipping her arm through his, she added, “I’m glad you’re all right. If anything happened to you…”

  A lump formed in Alton’s throat. “You know I feel the same. I’ve never been so glad to lose a piece of equipment,” he said, nodding toward the spot on her web-gear strap formerly occupied by the sat. phone.

  Mallory chuckled. “Me, too.”

  Without warning, Alton became bone weary, a tsunami of fatigue overcoming him in a single rush. Relieved of the burden of command, his mind signaled his body that, at last, all was well.

  Within seconds, he fell into a deep, glorious sleep.

  CHAPTER 78

  At noon the next day, Alton and the uninjured members of his team met General Zheng in the same NIS conference room in which they had kicked off the in-country portion of their mission seven days earlier.

  Alton enjoyed the comfort of sipping warm coffee in a properly heated room, of being showered and dressed in clean clothes. Sometimes life’s little pleasures really were the best ones.

  He and the rest of the team spent a full two hours debriefing the general and his two aides on their activities from the past week. Zheng asked dozens of questions and used the stub of a pencil to scratch into a tiny notebook he stuffed into a shirt pocket when the mission description ended.

  “One thing I still don’t understand,” said Camron. “What about the Heat Wave research? Is it all lost?”

  “No,” said Alton. “Vega and I have done some checking around. Tong made a fatal miscalculation in his plan. He thought killing the Heat Wave scientists and destroying their IT center would set them back to ground zero, taking out both the minds and the results of their effort. Tong might excel in physical sciences, but he suffered from the same drought of information as the rest of his countrymen when it came to general technical advances. He still thought of databases as racks of on-site servers with other servers in the same room acting as backup. That’s how his IT center, the one at Papa’s House, was organized. So he figured if he destroyed the Heat Wave IT center, he’d wipe out all of South Korea’s copies of the data. Had he lived in almost any other country, he would have known that kind of data backup model ended years ago.”

  “So South Korea does have other copies of the solar files?” asked Camron.

  “Yep. Heat Wave stored redundant copies of their files on cloud-based servers. In total, there are seven backups of that information. And despite Tong’s assertion to me, there are a dozen scientists in Europe and the U.S. who have been intimately involved in this project. They don’t know as much as the Heat Wave scientists did, but their expertise will be enough to keep making progress on the technology.”

  Camron grunted and shook his head. “So Tong’s plan wouldn’t have worked. North Korea still wouldn’t have had a monopoly in this technology.”

  “That’s right.” Alton sighed. “It was a lot of murder and intrigue for nothing.”

  “I must be on my way,” said General Zheng, glancing at his watch. “Staff meeting in four minutes. I’ll give the highest commendation of your work to Agent Vega. Sergeant Chegal, you and Corporal Ru can expect promotions and letters of commendation before the week is out.”

  “Thank you, sir!” said Chegal.

  The general exited, leaving the others sitting in thoughtful silence.

  “Now that we’re done here,” said Mallory, “let’s go see our hospitalized teammates.”

  Alton limped through the antiseptic corridors of Seoul’s largest hospital, retracing his steps from his earlier visit to Silva. Hard to believe her attack and hospitalization had occurred only five days ago.

  He stopped at the nurse’s station to ask directions, then proceeded to room 312.

  Ru glanced over from the TV and smiled when he saw the team entering. At last, the man enjoyed the recovery time needed for his injured shoulder.

  “How’re you feeling?” asked Mallory.

  Ru beamed. “Very good. I am glad to see you.”

  “We’re happy to see you safe and sound,” said Alton. “I understand you alerted General Zheng to our mission. We owe you our lives for that.”

  “Not just me—Silva did, too. I am glad you aren’t angry.”

  “Why would we be angry?”

  “For leaving when I did.” He cast his gaze down to the spotless sheets on his bed.

  “No worries about that. It was pretty hot in North Korea. Someone with an injury like yours would have slowed us down. But back here in Seoul, you were able to round up the help we needed. Angry is the last thing I’m feeling. You did well.” Alton smiled at the young soldier.

  A nurse wearing scrubs adorned with cartoon characters entered the room and made an announcement in Korean.

  “She says it is time for the measuring of my heartbeat and blood pressure,” said Ru with a grin. “How do you say this in English?”

  “Vital signs,” said Alton. “We’ll come back later. And thanks again.”

  Alton led the others out of the room. “Now to Silva’s room. Up one floor.”

  Silva hadn’t told her teammates that the stitches in her glutes had partially ripped out during their recon of the Heat Wave site. Upon returning to Seoul, pain had forced her to check back into the hospital.

  Alton knocked on the door.

  “Come in!” />
  The group entered. Silva’s frown softened when the saw their faces. “I’m glad to see you guys. It’s boring as hell in here.”

  “I guess that means you’re feeling better,” said Alton with a chuckle.

  “My butt hurts worse than it did the first time. But other than that, yeah, I’m feeling okay. Not much to do, though. Most of the TV channels are in one Asian language or another.”

  They chatted for a few minutes, then Alton broached a topic that had been on his mind since entering Silva’s ward. “Would you like to see O’Neil?”

  She swallowed. “Sure.”

  Silva began to push herself out of the hospital bed but winced with the effort.

  “Let me help,” said Mallory, grasping Silva’s arm and easing her into a bedside wheelchair. She took position behind it and looked to her husband.

  “Let’s go,” he said.

  They moved to the elevator. Alton hit the down button and wondered how the next few minutes would unfold.

  The elevator bumped to a halt and opened to a silent floor.

  No one spoke. Noise would have felt out of place. They traveled down a hallway and entered a spacious room.

  There lay O’Neil, silent and unmoving. A sheet had been pulled up to his armpits.

  “Is he asleep?” asked Silva in a low voice.

  “Not anymore,” croaked O’Neil from the bed. “Was that supposed to be quiet?”

  Alton glanced at Silva.

  Was that…? It was. She was smiling…broadly.

  Alton motioned to his wife to move Silva to O’Neil’s bedside.

  Once there, Silva seemed to be at a loss for words. “I didn’t think you’d be awake—with your injury being so serious and all.”

  “I’ve been asleep for twenty hours, they tell me,” he replied. “But I feel like I could sleep another twenty.” He looked at Alton and cracked a half-smile. “I hear you all kicked ass.”

  “Thanks to your help,” said Alton. “That was a neat trick, back in Tong’s IT center, dropping out of the ceiling like that.”

  “That wasn’t my original plan,” he said. “But the incoming fire at your entrance was so thick, I would’ve got my balls shot off the second I stepped through. I knew I needed a plan B. At first, I didn’t know what to do.” Before continuing, he paused to catch his breath, the exertion of speaking overtaking him. “Then I remembered when the fabrication plant started to blow. There was a space between the new ceiling and the old, grungy one. I figured that gap would be there throughout the site. Sure enough, I jumped onto a table in one of the side rooms outside the IT center and crawled up. I hoisted up Camron and David and away we went. You know the rest.”

  “I sure do. You dropped down just in time to save my bacon.”

  O’Neil shrugged, uncomfortable with the praise. “I’m just glad we all made it back. My kids will be glad, too.”

  “Do they know about your injury?” asked Silva.

  “Naw, it’ll just freak them out, especially Katie. They’ll find out when I get home, and by then I’ll be better, so it won’t matter so much.” O’Neil stopped to catch his breath again.

  “You look tired,” said Alton. “We should let you rest for a while. But don’t worry, we’ll be back later.”

  Mallory moved into position behind Silva’s wheelchair, but the Latina stopped her. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to stay here for a while.” She looked to Alton. “I’ll let him rest. I promise.”

  The rest of the teammates said their individual farewells and began to file out of the room.

  Mallory leaned towards her husband. “I’m going to use the restroom. I’ll only be a second.”

  Alton lowered himself into a chair to wait, hoping to ease the pulses of discomfort coursing through his leg.

  “You don’t have to wait in here, you know,” wheezed O’Neil to Silva. “It’s gonna be pretty boring watching me sleep.”

  “Not any more boring than it was for you when I was the one in the hospital bed.”

  “Speaking of that, shouldn’t you be in yours? Isn’t sitting up going to put stress on your stitches?”

  “I’ll be okay for a little while,” said Silva with a half-smile. “Besides, I was going out of my mind with boredom upstairs. And I see you have the TV tuned to an NBA game…good choice.”

  “You know,” said O’Neil, looking reflective. “In a selfish way, I’m glad you’re here. But I feel bad that you’re sitting on your butt wound just to keep me company.”

  “You know me. I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t want to.”

  “Silva—” began O’Neil.

  She held up a palm to stop him. “My friends call me Jessie.” She found a sudden interest in the floor, then shot her gaze back to O’Neil. Her expression changed. Alton had never witnessed Silva produce such a genuine, warm smile. But it suited her. It suited her quite well.

  Mallory exited the bathroom.

  Alton held a finger to his lips. Far be it for him and his wife to break the spell.

  They tiptoed from the room in silence, leaving the injured comrades alone for their future to unfold as it may.

  CHAPTER 79

  Aided by the International Date Line, Alton and Mallory made it back to their house in the Washington suburbs two days later, according to the calendar. In fact, nearly three 24-hour intervals had passed since their first visit to O’Neil in his hospital room.

  They had spent much of their two remaining days in Seoul with O’Neil and Silva, who in turn had spent much of their time together. General Zheng had pulled a few strings and gotten Silva moved to the same floor as O’Neil’s ICU ward. Sometimes, matchmaking arose from the most unexpected places.

  They had bid adieu to Chegal and Ru, who proudly displayed their new ranks. Ru was convalescing well and should be able to return to duty, he said, by the end of the month.

  Now, as David, Alton, and Mallory strolled along the path of paver stones to the Blackwell’s front door, a round of joyous barking erupted from inside. Buster had spotted them.

  “Buster’s here?” said Alton with raised eyebrows. He bent over to insert his key in the lock. “That must mean—”

  The door swung open before he could finish his sentence.

  “Mastana! Kevin!” said Mallory. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  “We knew you’d be along soon,” said Mastana, “so we thought we’d surprise…” Her gaze landed on David. She flung herself into his arms, and they embraced for a long time.

  “My father,” she said, tears welling in her eyes. “My heart is singing to see you again.”

  “I’m happy to see you, too, honey.” David’s eyes also seemed to have taken on an extra sheen—not that he would admit it. He bestowed an equally enthusiastic greeting on Fahima, his wife, who had waited patiently to the side with an ear-to-ear grin.

  The family reunion ushered in a round of hugs and exclamations that continued until everyone had given and received a proper greeting.

  Kevin grabbed Alton’s bag and hefted it over his shoulder. “Allow me, sir.”

  Alton grimaced inwardly. Sir. Was he already getting so old? He decided to chalk it up to the lad’s courteous nature.

  Once everyone had moved inside, Mastana faced the trio of travelers with a look of great anticipation. “And now you must tell us about all your travels. We’ve been dying to know.”

  “If we’re going to do that,” said Alton, “I’ll have to brew some java first. This might take a while.”

  They settled onto the couch and loveseat in the Blackwells’ den. Over the next few hours, the joe in the coffeepot disappeared not once but twice. Mastana and Kevin reacted with expressions of surprise, terror, and occasional laughter as the three NSA agents described their Korean mission.

  Finishing at last, Alton took the last sip of lukewarm coffee from his mug. “That about sums it up.” He looked at his watch. “Sorry for keeping you two up so late. It sure was nice of you to meet us here like this.”
/>   Mastana looked at Kevin, then returned her gaze to Alton. She looked…different—nervous, somehow.

  “I should tell you, Alton,” she said at last. “There is another reason we are here.” She glanced at her boyfriend, then at her father.

  Alton set his coffee mug on the end table. “Tell me.”

  “I have some news to share with you. Agent Vega called. He wants you and Mallory to help with an investigation in Guadalajara.”

  “Is that all?” said David. He looked relieved. Had he, like Alton, expected some kind of engagement announcement from the two lovebirds?

  “That is important news, isn’t it, Father?”

  “Um…yes, of course,” David babbled. “You bet it is.”

  “Guadalajara…as in Mexico?” asked Alton, coming to the rescue.

  “Yes.”

  “That’s funny. I didn’t have any voice mails or texts from Vega. Did he tell you about the mission directly?”

  “Yes,” said Mastana. “He said it is better to keep it confidential that way. And he said he wants us to report to the NSA complex tomorrow morning.”

  “Us? Did he want you to come, too?”

  Mastana cracked a shy smile. “Not at first. But I asked if I could attend—”

  “And I did, too,” added Kevin.

  “And he said yes,” finished Mastana.

  Alton crossed his good leg across his bad one. “I see. So what exactly happened in Guadalajara that he needs us to look into?”

  “I don’t know. Something about a cave-in at a Basilica. I suppose we will all find out tomorrow.”

  “That we will,” said Alton. Draping his arm around Mallory and pulling her close, he looked at his wife and grinned. “That we will.”

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