Kill Chain

by J. Robert Kennedy

  Starling’s eyes closed and his shoulders slumped as he fell back against the hard metal. His lips moved silently, a prayer of thanks probably just recited. He opened his eyes. “The others?”

  “Everyone’s safe.”

  “Thank the Lord.”

  “Amen, sir. I’ll try to arrange a call with your daughter as soon as possible.”

  Starling nodded, tears of relief escaping, the man finally allowed to be a father, the others turning away to give him as much privacy as one could in such confined quarters.

  They had all been there.

  There was no privacy in a foxhole.

  Nor the rear of a K200 Armored Personnel Carrier.

  Red activated his comm. “Control, do we know who’s behind all this?”

  “Affirmative, Zero-Two. You’ll be briefed upon arrival at Evac Point Echo.”

  “Good. Just make sure whoever’s going after them doesn’t leave without us.” He stared at the others. “I think it’s payback time.”

  92

  Operations Center 1

  CIA Headquarters, Langley, Virginia

  “The money?”

  Child shook his head. “Gone. Like we suspected, it’s already been transferred to a dozen different accounts, then each of those to another dozen. Proxies have already withdrawn the money and probably taken their cut, then deposited it into new accounts we have no way to trace.”

  Leroux shook his head. “That’s how it’s done. Textbook.”

  “Yeah,” muttered Child. “I guess selling weapons on the black market teaches you a trick or two.”

  Leroux agreed. “At least it’s only twenty million. Even if we can’t get it back, it’s not the end of the world.”

  “Do you think they’ll ask for the other three billion back?”

  Leroux shrugged. “I’d hope so.”

  Director Morrison entered the operations center. “Do we have him?”

  Leroux rose, pointing at the display, an image from a drone showing a large yacht racing west toward Chinese waters. “That’s him there. We were able to narrow it down. Turns out it belongs to the owner of the Chinese drone manufacturer.”

  “Huh. So he lied.”

  “Liars gonna lie.”

  Morrison and Leroux both gave Child a look, the young analyst immediately burying his head in his workstation.

  “I’m a little surprised Kane didn’t pick up on it.”

  “He’s got a stomach flu. Food poisoning or something.”

  “That might explain it.” Morrison motioned toward the screen. “Fill him in. I have a funny feeling he’s going to take it personally.”

  Leroux smiled. “I’m sure he will.”

  93

  Somewhere on the Yellow Sea

  Grant Riker smiled as he read the confirmation messages. His money was secure, all twenty-plus million less a ten percent fee. And once the true story broke, after he had disappeared, Starling’s credibility would be destroyed.

  Though his daughter would survive.

  It was unfortunate, but destroying the man’s credibility would be enough.

  For now.

  He had avenged his daughter, and would now disappear, pull together the necessary contacts, then eliminate the little bundle of joy in good time.

  Starling would feel what he felt.

  And that day would come when he least expected it.

  Though his plan had failed in that respect, it now gave him a new opportunity to personalize the torment even further.

  He’d have Nancy Starling killed in front of her father, so her final moments would be burned in that bastard’s memory for time eternal.

  He activated a routine on his terminal, wiping everything so there’d be no evidence that this had been his headquarters. He’d advise Hang to destroy the equipment so there’d be no hope of ever finding the IP address they had pinged.

  Though should they somehow have found the boat, it didn’t matter.

  For he had a surprise for Starling, this no simple yacht.

  This was a superyacht.

  And should they not reach the safety of Chinese waters, it wouldn’t matter.

  Hang’s toys would save him.

  94

  Evac Point Echo

  South of Seoul, Republic of Korea

  Starling held out his hand and a Marine pulled him into the back of a Black Hawk helicopter waiting for them. The Delta team that had saved him were nearby, there a heavy American and South Korean presence south of the capital.

  A capital that burned.

  Flames licked the night sky, the destruction devastating, the stars blotted out by the heavy smoke. He had no idea what the casualties were, though they had to be in the thousands, if not far worse. He was out of the loop, desperate to know what was happening, though if the airpower overhead was any indication, the North was continuing to take a pounding.

  “Mr. President, I have a call for you.”

  He took the headset offered by the Marine and fit it over his head, adjusting the mouthpiece, the others in the chopper curiously removing theirs.

  Classified briefing?

  “Hello, this is the President.”

  “Daddy!”

  His head dropped and he felt his shoulders heave. Though he knew she was safe, he hadn’t dared believe it—not completely. But she was alive, the last thing that kept him going in this chaotic world was alive, and from the little he knew, it was the Delta team he had to thank.

  “Hey, sweetheart, are you okay?”

  “I-I’m fine. We’re in a helicopter. I’m not sure where we’re going, but they said I’d see you soon. A-are you okay?”

  He smiled. “Yes, not a scratch. I’m in a helicopter too. Let’s hope we’re both going to the same place. And when we get on Air Force One, we’re eating nothing but apple pie and ice cream!”

  Nancy giggled, it warming his heart, it the only joy he had felt all day, the happy sound of a man’s child all he needed to make the ills of the world fade into the background, if only for that moment.

  It was a good moment.

  The best.

  If only Melanie were here to share it.

  He pushed the depression away, focusing on the positive.

  “Daddy, they say I have to let you go. We’re landing.”

  “Okay, sweetheart, I’ll see you soon. Love you.”

  “Love you too, Daddy!”

  He pulled the headset off and handed it back to the Marine who pointed. “I think that’s for you.”

  He looked, puzzled, then smiled when he saw a chopper set down, Dawson stepping out then helping Nancy to the ground. He jumped out and rushed across the grass field toward her. Dawson pointed and she spotted him.

  “Daddy!”

  They raced toward each other, the soldiers stepping aside as the two final members of their broken family slammed into each other, wrapping their arms tightly as they both sobbed, Starling not caring who in the world saw the tears today.

  It was a good day.

  If only for this moment, in this field.

  Dawson stepped over to the happy pair, Starling holding out his hand before the man could speak. “Thank you for saving my daughter, Sergeant Major.”

  Dawson shook his hand. “I’m afraid I can’t take the credit, Mr. President.” He motioned toward the Asian member of the team who appeared sad and angry, some of his comrades comforting him. “The sergeant deserves the credit.

  “Niner saved us all, Daddy.”

  Starling debated going over to thank the man, but something was wrong. “What happened?”

  Dawson frowned. “We lost someone. South Korean.”

  “His girlfriend.”

  Starling’s eyes widened.

  “I’ll explain it all later, Daddy.”

  Starling nodded. “Well, you tell him that I thank him, and will talk to him personally when he’s ready.”

  “He’ll appreciate that, Mr. President. Now, we’ve got a twenty on Riker. Permission to bring this
to an end?”

  Starling leaned in, lowering his voice. “Kill the bastard.”

  Dawson smiled. “You can count on it.”

  95

  Maggie Harris Residence

  Lake in the Pines Apartments, Fayetteville, North Carolina

  “Oh my God, that’s Red.”

  Maggie bolted awake, everyone still clustered in her living room as the kids slept in the bedroom, the adults taking shifts monitoring the television.

  It was Shirley’s turn.

  Everyone was awake now and Shirley backed up the CNN coverage on the DVR. “Watch!”

  “We have footage just arriving at our studios from a South Korean amateur photographer purporting to show the President arriving at an evacuation point, apparently unharmed. Now I must warn you, CNN has been unable to confirm its authenticity, and until this moment, we had been led to believe that President Starling was safely in Busan, far from the chaos of Seoul.”

  As the talking head spoke, a shaky video played showing a group of soldiers pouring out of the back of some sort of armored vehicle, followed by a man in a suit that Vanessa identified as the President, but Maggie didn’t care.

  She was searching for Dawson.

  And not seeing him.

  Though there was no doubt Red and Wings were safe. She turned to Shirley and reached out, squeezing her arm. “I’m so happy for you.”

  She smiled, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Th-thank you. Did you see BD?”

  Maggie shook her head. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

  “I don’t see Leon. Does anyone see Leon?”

  Maggie frowned, Atlas not yet spotted by anyone. “I don’t see BD either, or Niner or Jimmy for that matter.”

  “There’s my Will!” cried Spock’s wife, hugging Shirley.

  “There’s only two of them there, but that doesn’t mean anything.”

  “They’re all dead! That’s what it means!”

  Maggie rose and walked over to where Vanessa was sitting, rocking back and forth in her chair, hugging her knees. “No, they’re not,” Maggie said gently, putting an arm around her shoulders. “Did you see the President’s daughter?”

  Vanessa paused, staring at the screen. “N-no.”

  “Neither did I. Now don’t you think the others are with her? The President would want his best men with his daughter. He had Red’s team with him, and BD’s team with Nancy.”

  “But she’s been kidnapped. They don’t know where she is!”

  “Right, but do you honestly believe the President would leave without his daughter? There’s no way. He’s got BD and the others looking for her. I’m sure we’ll hear very shortly that she’s okay, and that they’re with her.”

  Vanessa sighed, her rocking stopped. She stared up at Maggie with tear-filled eyes. “How do you keep it together? Aren’t you worried sick?”

  Maggie patted Vanessa’s shoulder. “Of course I am, but this is the job. I have to trust that he’s okay until I’m told otherwise. If not, I’d be going crazy every time he deployed.” She dropped to a knee, eye-level with Vanessa. “Look, how many times has he been gone since you’ve been dating?”

  Vanessa shrugged. “I don’t know. Dozens?”

  “Right, and he’s come back every single time.”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t know he was going into combat until a few weeks ago.”

  Maggie smiled. “Yes, but he was heading into danger every other time as well, and nothing happened. Look, don’t let knowing what he does ruin your life. You have to embrace it. Be proud of your man, of what he does, and cherish those times when he’s actually with you even more.”

  “Why, because it might be the last time I ever see him?”

  Maggie shook her head, a slight smile on her face. “You’re really a glass is half-empty kind of gal, aren’t you?”

  A flash of anger appeared on Vanessa’s face and she opened her mouth to say something before she paused, a puzzled look on her face.

  Then a stifled laugh escaped.

  Then another. She fought it but failed, suddenly erupting in laughter, flopping back in her chair and holding her stomach. Maggie felt her own resistance tumbling away and she too began to laugh.

  And within moments, the entire room was laughing, a set of sleepy children emerging from the hallway, rubbing their eyes, staring at their crazy parents.

  96

  Over the Yellow Sea

  Dawson watched the water streak by below them, the chopper far faster than any yacht, there zero chance their target would reach Chinese waters first. And despite international law stating what they were about to do was technically illegal, there wasn’t a person there who cared.

  Grant Riker, formerly of Riker Defensive Systems, was going to die.

  He was officially now on the President’s Termination List.

  A terrorist.

  A clear and present danger to the United States of America, and its citizens.

  He was already dead, he just didn’t know it yet.

  “There it is, sir!”

  Dawson leaned forward and peered through the cockpit window, an impressive yacht just ahead, lit by a full moon and a clear sky. “Christ, must be nice to be rich.”

  “Yes, sir. She’s being challenged now, sir.”

  Dawson watched an Apache gunship tear past them, its 30 mm M230E1 Chain Gun opening up on the water ahead of the yacht, the ship’s wake rapidly diminishing as the crew brought their vessel to a halt. The Apache dropped to just above the waves, turning to face the ship, cannons and weapons pods bristling, should the captain decide to try and make an unwise break for it. The crew slowly emerged onto the deck, hands up, the Apache’s pilot obviously giving them orders over its loudspeaker.

  “Get me on that deck!”

  “Yes, sir!”

  The pilot descended, positioning them over the deck as one of the aircrew yanked open the door, tossing out a rope. Dawson grabbed it and jumped out the side, quickly rappelling to the heaving deck below. His feet hit and he cleared the rope, his MP5 already aimed at the crew as the others dropped around him.

  “Find Riker!”

  The men fanned out and Dawson stepped toward the captain of the vessel, his crisp white uniform stained with sweat. “Where is he?”

  The man shook his head rapidly, clearly terrified, his eyes focused on the muzzle of the submachine gun. “H-he not here.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “No, no bullshit. He left.”

  “When?”

  “Half hour ago.”

  “How?”

  “Sub.”

  Dawson’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

  “Sub. Submarine.”

  Dawson stared at the crew, everyone nodding. “This yacht has a submarine?”

  “Yes.”

  He activated his comm. “Anybody got eyes on something that suggests there was a submarine on board?”

  Spock’s voice responded immediately. “I’m not sure what I’m looking at, but there’s some serious James Bond shit going on down here that might be some sort of dock for a sub.”

  Dawson cursed. “Control, Zero-One. It looks like our target escaped in some sort of mini-sub. We’re going to need some help finding it, over.”

  “Copy that, Zero-One.”

  “What do you want us to do with the crew?”

  Those in question suddenly appeared nervous.

  “Are they involved?”

  Atlas appeared from one of the doors, shaking his head. “He had a whack of computer horsepower in one of the cabins, but only one chair. Looks like a one-man show.”

  Dawson nodded. “Negative, Control. Looks like he was the puppet master using the Internet to pull all the strings from here.”

  “Incredible. Looks like the sharing economy has branched out into the hostage taking and revenge business.”

  “Looks that way. When no one knows the big picture, they don’t think the little thing they’re doing is that important.”

  “Agreed, Ze
ro-One. Gather up their equipment, it might help us find the money he transferred, then let the ship and crew go. You may be in international waters, but it’s a Chinese-flagged vessel so technically you’re pirates right now.”

  “Roger that. Zero-One, out.” He looked at the others. “Bag and tag everything. We’re out of here in ten.”

  “Arr matey,” growled Jagger, sounding more Johnny Depp than pirate.

  Niner slammed his fist into the wall, ending the mood.

  And Dawson didn’t blame him for a second.

  97

  Fast Attack Submarine USS Chicago, Yellow Sea

  “Sir, sonar contact off the port bow, heading two-eight-zero at five knots, range three-hundred yards, depth fifty feet.” The sonar operator turned to his XO. “It’s small, sir. Could be what we’re looking for.”

  Captain Jonathan Brandis made his way to the sonar station. “You’re sure it’s not a whale, Jack, I don’t want Greenpeace getting all pissed off if we blow this thing out of the water.”

  Jack smiled. “No, sir, it’s definitely a vessel. I can hear its screws. It doesn’t match anything we’ve got on file and it’s within the search radius.”

  “Okay, let’s get her attention. Ping her.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  A single ping echoed through the hull, chills racing up Jack’s spine, as it would any submariner who had experienced the receiving end.

  “Status?”

  Jack stared at his readings, frowning. “It didn’t change course or speed, Captain.” He looked up at his commanding officer, surprised. “I think it’s ignoring us!”

  “Ping it again.”

  Another loud echo of the distinctive pulse vibrated through the ship.

  And again nothing.

  Jack shook his head. “I’m sorry, Captain. Nothing.”

  A burst of frustration erupted from Captain Brandis. “XO, if we ram that thing, what kind of damage are we looking at?”

  “I’ve reviewed the specs, Captain. It’d be a fly on our proverbial windshield.”