“Do we have an address?”
Kim shook the papers and smiled, the sight enough to cause Niner’s stomach to flip. “Yes.”
He returned the smile, no awkwardness this time, what had just been a joke to tease Jimmy with, suddenly a genuine attraction. “Then let’s go pick him up.”
38
Operations Center 1
CIA Headquarters, Langley, Virginia
“Were you able to trace the call?”
Child shook his head, Leroux frowning. “No. It looks like they bounced it all over the damned planet. Whoever is behind this is good.”
Leroux drummed his fingers on his workstation. The North Koreans were good. Not as good as they would like the world to believe, yet not as incompetent as their leadership would suggest. They had been trained by the Chinese, who were definitely good, with intel suggesting the Russians were also helping develop the rogue nation’s cyberwarfare capabilities. But the phone conversation that had just occurred seemed to indicate the North had nothing to do with what was going on.
Innocent for the first time.
“If these are eco-terrorists, then they’re going far beyond anything in the past.”
“But why make it look like North Korea is behind it?” asked Tong, turning in her chair. “Wouldn’t an all-out war damage the environment? Hell, all the hardware we’ve got steaming into that area is spewing enough carbon to make a true environmentalist weep!”
Leroux chuckled. “You’re right. By making it look to the world like the North Koreans are behind this they’re definitely risking a war, especially if the Chinese decide to take the wrong side again.”
A burst of frustration erupted from Child. “We need to get the word out that it’s not the North behind this.”
Leroux shook his head. “We can’t do that. The instructions to the President were clear. If the truth gets out then the hostages die, starting with Nancy Starling.”
Child spun in his chair, dropping a foot to end the motion. “Do they really think they can influence foreign policy like this? It doesn’t make any sense! We could pass whatever laws they want but once the hostages are freed, then what could they possibly do to make sure we stick to the agreement?”
“Nothing that I can think of,” agreed Tong.
Child jabbed the air with a finger. “Exactly! That’s why none of this makes sense!” He stopped, his eyes narrowing. “Could this all be a smoke screen? Just like the North Korean thing?”
Leroux nodded, allowing the speculation to continue, always encouraging freethinking among his team, many of the best ideas coming from brainstorming sessions just like this. “It’s possible.”
“Then what the hell’s the real motivation here? Certainly not what we’ve been told.”
Tong interrupted, excited. “Sir, look at this!”
Leroux stared at the display, footage from a security camera showing the hijacked bus driving by. Another image appeared beside it from what he assumed was the U2 flyby. “What am I looking at?”
“Same area, a few minutes later.”
The image zoomed in on a building from above, the backend of the bus pulling into a building.
A smile broke out on Leroux’s face, he leaning over and slapping Tong on the back, the woman flushing. “I think we just found where they went.” He jumped from his chair, pointing at the map. “Get that info to Delta right away!”
39
Guro District
Seoul, Republic of Korea
Dawson held back with the others, his desire to take point on this operation kept in check by the competence displayed by the South Korean team as they surrounded the building. They were well-equipped and from all outward appearances, well-led, the team lead already having done the courtesy of allowing him to sit in on the final on-scene briefing, a translator provided.
A small charge detonated, the lock on the large door the bus had gone through blasted, a man on either side hauling it up as two of the assault team lay prone on the ground, prepared to take out any hostiles that may be on the other side. Flashbangs bounced through the opening, the detonation loud though muffled by the still opening door and their frustrating position of bringing up the rear in the operation.
With the door high enough, the remainder of the team poured in, the complete lack of gunfire just confirming what infrared sensors had already told them.
There was no one inside.
Dawson surged forward with Atlas, Spock, and Jagger, he and Atlas sweeping left, the others right, visually confirming no hostiles.
But there was a bus.
The bus.
He activated his comm. “Control, Zero-One. We found the bus, over.”
“Any sign of the hostages?”
Atlas pointed to his left and Dawson looked, frowning. “We’ve got four bodies here, just like Mrs. Cheng indicated.” He stepped over to the proof their kidnappers were to be taken seriously. “Looks like two South Korean security personnel, the German Chancellor’s husband, and the Chinese translator.” His eyes narrowed as he noticed something else. “And get this.”
“What?”
“Looks like about half a dozen drones were taken out.”
“By who?”
Dawson examined the bodies, his eyes coming to rest on the hands of the Chinese woman, Daewoo DP-51 pistols still gripped tightly in her hands. “Looks like the translator. She’s holding two weapons and there’s shell casings around her body.” His head bobbed with respect. “Looks like she put up one hell of a fight. I’d run her again. I doubt she’s part of their consular staff.” His attention was suddenly drawn by the sight of one of the assault team trying to yank open the front door of the bus. “Control, stand by.” He stepped toward the bus, raising his voice. “Hey! Check that for explosives first! The witness said they were told the bus was rigged.”
The team lead spat a reprimand at the overzealous man, the rest of the team swarming the bus with mirrors to check the doors and undercarriage. An all-clear was given and the doors were forced open, the team surging inside, only to emerge moments later, heads shaking.
“It’s empty!” yelled one of them for their benefit.
Dawson activated his comm. “Control, Zero-One. The bus is empty. We need a description of the vehicle they transferred to.”
“We just got that. Some sort of semi-trailer.”
Spock’s eyebrow shot up as they exchanged surprised glances. “How’d you find that out? I thought the Chinese took our witness out of the country.”
“They tried but we were able to intercept her before she left.”
It was Dawson’s turn for some eyebrow action. “How’d you manage that?”
“If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”
Dawson chuckled. “Ahh, got ya. Now that you have a starting point, let’s hope you can find a truck a little bit quicker.”
“We’re already on it.”
“Copy that, Zero-One, out.”
He watched as a forensics team began to pick over the bus, Spock holding up one of the downed drones.
“What do you make of it?” asked Jagger as they all examined the heavily damaged device.
“Looks pretty basic to me except for that piece of hardware strapped to the top of it.” Dawson’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t recognize it. You guys?”
A string of negatives was the reply, a surprise considering among the four of them they knew pretty much every weapon in use today.
Dawson pointed at it. “Get images of that to Langley. It might be another lead.”
40
Incheon International Airport
Incheon, Republic of Korea
“No! They said I can’t leave the country!”
Cheng yanked her arm away from the man, a member of her husband’s security detail. She had hoped that after they woke from being tranquilized by the American—or who she assumed was an American—they’d be more amenable to listening to her.
She had been wrong.
Instead
, her evacuation had taken on a greater urgency, she essentially carried from the SUV to the airplane awaiting takeoff, its engines already powered up.
“Ma’am, we have our orders. You must leave!”
She held her ground. “No! I won’t!” She gripped the railings of the steps leading into the aircraft, holding on as tightly as she could. “They’ll kill the others!”
“They aren’t our concern, you are,” said the man, prying her fingers loose. “The President has ordered us to evacuate you to Beijing immediately.”
Another security staffer ended a phone call. “Ma’am, your husband said to carry you if you don’t cooperate.”
Cheng glared at him for a moment before her shoulders collapsed in defeat. “Fine.” A moment of rage returned as she jabbed a finger at the man. “But their blood is on his hands, not mine!”
She climbed the stairs and was ushered into her seat by an impossibly thin flight attendant, normal circumstances perhaps causing her to feel a little self-conscious about her aging and thickening frame. But not today. The door shut and the plane immediately began to taxi, the pilot apparently given priority clearance for takeoff. Tears burned her cheeks as she stared out the window at the city that had caused so much terror, wondering where her fellow captives might be, and if they would survive their ordeal.
And why she had been singled out to live.
The engines whined and they began to accelerate down the runway, her body pressed into her seat. She eyed the wing just behind her, the rippling heat from the engines going almost unnoticed.
She wiped her eyes.
That poor little girl.
Her eyes narrowed as she spotted something through the tears. She swiped her sleeves across her eyes, decorum forgotten.
What’s that?
Ahead of them, at the end of the runway, something had risen from the grass. She pressed against the window, trying to make sense of what she was seeing as more small objects rose.
Then she gasped as she recognized the instruments of their tormentors.
Drones!
Dozens. Scores. Perhaps more, rose from the end of the runway, abruptly streaming toward them in long lines like a flock of birds, turning as one.
“Look!” she cried, pointing.
One of the security team looked to where she was pointing then leaped from his seat, charging toward the cockpit. An alarm sounded before he could reach it, the pilot evidently spotting the problem but too late, the wheels just having lifted off.
“Crash positions!” cried the waif attendant, rushing toward her. Cheng cinched her belt tight and leaned forward as the woman double-checked things before moving on. Cheng raised her head slightly so she could still watch out the window, the drones racing toward them.
What are they doing?
Four groups had split off from each other, two of the distinct lines disappearing from view as they repositioned to the other side of the aircraft, the other two racing toward them at incredible speed, speed she realized was actually their own, the drones simply sitting in midair, adjusting their position as if they were massive airborne millipedes.
And suddenly they were upon them.
She gasped as the first was sucked into their engine, the impact unnoticed, but as drone after drone were drawn in, smoke began to emerge from the rear.
Oh no!
A sudden ball of fire erupted from one of the engines and she screamed.
41
Operations Center 1
CIA Headquarters, Langley, Virginia
“Any serial numbers?”
Leroux peered at the close-ups of the drones sent to them by the Delta team, Spock dismantling one in the back of their SUV.
“Not on the weapon,” replied Spock. “They’ve been filed down as far as I can tell. Not sure where to look, though, I’ve never seen this type before.”
Leroux’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure? I figured you guys would have seen pretty much anything out there.”
“Me too. None of us recognize it. I have a funny feeling that’s going to be your lead.”
“Any serial numbers on the drone?”
“Nothing I’ve seen yet.”
Tong pointed at the screen. “Is this it?”
Leroux examined an image from Alibaba, the Chinese based store-of-all-things. He stepped toward the screen, examining the sales photo and the image of one of the shot down drones. “Definitely looks like it.” He pointed at a set of red and blue striping along the sides. “Those I think match up pretty much perfectly.”
Tong’s fingers tapped at the keyboard and two isolated photos showing the stripes appeared, the computer then superimposing and adjusting them to match point of views.
They were perfect.
“Okay, get in touch with the manufacturer and find out where the serial numbers might be. We might get lucky and be able to trace who bought them.”
“Yes, sir,” replied Tong, working her terminal.
Child cleared his throat. “I’ve got those bandwidth estimates you asked for.”
Leroux turned toward Child. “And?”
“Zero chance it came through North Korea’s pipes.”
Leroux nodded. “Didn’t think so, though it still doesn’t rule them out. They’ve been known to use agents positioned in China and elsewhere to do their dirty work.”
Child leaned back in his chair. “They could have just used malware to hijack computers over time in prep for this, then sent out the video when they were ready.”
Leroux shook his head. “I’m not so sure about that.”
“Why?”
“Well, the video showed the victims. That means it was created, or at least modified, just before they uploaded it.”
Child’s head bobbed. “Good point.”
“So what does that tell us?”
“That this was a coordinated job using dedicated technical resources to upload the videos.”
“Right, and as far as we can tell so far, no two uploads originated from the same IP address, though with spoofing, that doesn’t really mean much.”
Child sighed. “We’re going to have to dig a lot deeper to see if we can trace the origins.”
Leroux nodded. “Do it.”
42
Guro District
Seoul, Republic of Korea
“All there?”
Atlas nodded, having just returned from inspecting the gear delivered by chopper from Osan Air Base. “We’re ready to start a war.”
Dawson grinned. “Good. I want to be ready for anything. If we get a lead, we’re not waiting for the locals to get their shit together. Start gearing up—”
An explosion in the distance cut him off and he spun toward the sound, a sound that from his experience indicated something big. A black and orange fireball tore its way into the sky to the west and he cursed. “What the hell is that?”
Everyone stopped what they were doing before a flurry of activity erupted, almost everyone on the Korean side reaching for comms, those inside the warehouse working on the bus rushing outside to see what had happened.
Dawson activated his comm. “Control, Zero-One. We’ve got a massive fireball to the west. We need to know what that is, over.”
“Copy that, Zero-One. Standby.”
Atlas shook his head, his deep voice echoing what they all felt. “I have a feeling things just escalated.”
43
Operations Center 1
CIA Headquarters, Langley, Virginia
“What’s west of their position?”
Child’s fingers flew over the keyboard, a map of Seoul appearing, Delta’s current location displayed by a pulsing red dot. “A lot. We need to narrow it down.”
“Get me eyes on the city. Any camera that might show the skyline.”
More tapping and camera feeds began to appear in a grid, Leroux snapping his fingers. “Number six!” The image enlarged and they could clearly see a massive plume of smoke on the horizon, the thick black billowing eruption still
fueled by something. “Where is that?”
“Definitely the airport,” replied Child, another camera angle appearing, the tails of jetliners visible, a huge fireball at the end of a runway occupying a portion of the frame.
“Christ!” Leroux snapped his fingers, their translator having already left to analyze the hostage video more closely. “Tap their ground feed and put me on comms.
“You’re on,” replied one of his team.
“One-One, this is Control Actual. Listen to this feed and tell us what’s being said.”
“Roger that, control,” replied Niner’s voice immediately. There was a pause as the shocked airport crew shouted orders to each other over their radios. “A plane has crashed.”
Leroux felt his chest tighten, Tong gasped. “What flight?”
Niner cursed. “It’s the plane carrying the Chinese President’s wife.”
“Jesus! Any indication yet what took it down?”
Another pause. “That can’t be right. Give me a second.” Leroux’s foot tapped as he waited for Niner to translate. “Shit! They’re saying dozens of drones were spotted entering the engines.”
Leroux’s eyes widened as his boss charged into the operations center. “I just got your—” He froze, his jaw dropping as he watched the security feed of the inferno, emergency vehicles racing toward the end of the runway, there no way in hell anyone had survived. “How?”
“Drones, sir. Apparently they were sent into the engines.”
Morrison dropped into a spare chair. “Is that even possible?”
Leroux sat in his own, shaking his head. “Evidently.”
Morrison sighed, clasping his hands behind his neck then abruptly leaning forward, slapping his hands on his knees. “Shit, I guess we know the Chinese aren’t involved.”
Kill Chain Page 10