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Death Minus Zero

Page 19

by Don Pendleton


  As far as Kai was concerned getting another message out had become imperative. She needed to inform home that all the Beijing players were here, gathered under one roof.

  Where was a superhero when you wanted one?

  She reminded herself of Zhou’s hostility and was forced to consider his observation of her since coming to the house, even though it had been at Chan’s invitation. It had been a break for Kai, but she needed to stay alert because Zhou seemed to be taking more of an interest in her. Especially now that he had apparently recruited Bolo to stay around while he accompanied Chan.

  She needed to warn her agency that Kaplan was here and obviously under some kind of pressure. The sooner she did that the better. Waiting any longer would not work in her favor. Jui Kai was starting to get the feeling she was on a short leash.

  She rose and crossed to stand closer to the open hearth, moving so that she could observe Bolo; as a watcher he was less than discreet. Kai went to stare out the window, fingering the compact cell in her pocket. The reflection in the window showed Bolo was still observing.

  She made her decision and returned to her earlier position in the armchair, which placed her with her back to the corridor, hidden by the high back of the chair. She slipped the cell from her pocket and held it in her lap, fingers quickly powering it out of sleep mode. As soon as the bars showed, Kai brought up the call list and accessed the texting facility.

  Checking the number she needed, she put in the text and pressed the send key. The message sat for what seemed a long time. Kai breathed relief when the message was sent. She left the cell open, using it as a signaling device, and slipped it down between the seat cushion and the back of the armchair. Hopefully the cell would transmit until the battery ran down; she hoped there would be a pickup of the signal. Kai accepted that there might not be anything her home base could do, but sending the text made her feel as if she was still carrying out her mission.

  With the message sent, there was little else she could do. There was no way she was going to be able to get close to Saul Kaplan. Chan would have the man under strict guard and she was without any kind of weapon. All she could do was monitor the situation.

  Chan was gone for a long time.

  Kai waited. Inactivity unsettled her. She understood her delicate situation. She was alone in the enemy camp, so to speak, with no kind of backup.

  * * *

  YANG ZHOU CAME into the lounge unannounced sometime later, his face flushed with anger. Bolo was close on his heels.

  Kai could see Zhou’s image in the window. He appeared to be holding a compact black object in his left hand and was moving it around, as if searching for something. The determined way he crossed the room in her direction warned her something was wrong. She turned in the seat, catching the expression in his eyes. Before she could fully react, Zhou reached out and closed his right hand around her arm, yanking her from the seat and dragging her to her feet.

  Over his shoulder she saw Chan in the background, watching.

  “Traitorous bitch,” Zhou said.

  “What have I—?”

  She got no more of her words out. Zhou’s powerful backhand caught her across the side of her face, the blow landing with brutal force. Kai felt her head snap to the side and as Zhou released his hand from her arm she stumbled to her knees. The side of her face burned from the blow and Kai tasted blood in her mouth where her teeth had cut flesh. A hand, Bolo’s, took hold of her hair, yanking her upright so that her face was fully exposed when Zhou struck her again. This time a hard-fisted punch tore her lips and drove her to the floor on her back. Zhou stood over her, his face flushed with rage, eyes raking her with undisguised revulsion. He slammed a foot into her side, over her ribs. The blow was full-on, the pain unbearable, and Kai cried out.

  Bolo moved into Kai’s line of vision and she stared at him through eyes misted by tears. He leaned over and took hold of her, lifting her to her feet as if she was a child. He held her while Zhou struck her again and again until she was limp in Bolo’s hands, head hanging. Zhou hit her face and body with powerful, well-delivered blows. Her blood dripped in steady streams from her mouth and the torn flesh of her cheeks.

  When the beating stopped, Zhou stepped back. He held up the object in his hand. It was some kind of electronic device. It produced a low, steady sound as he moved it back and forth, the decibels increasing when he moved to stand beside the chair she had been using. Zhou extended his arm, the signal getting louder, steadier. He leaned forward, reaching down with his right hand and when he raised it again he was holding Kai’s cell phone. He turned the phone to show the still-open setting.

  “Switched on to maintain an active signal. Colonel Chan will be most disappointed when he learns you are a spy,” Zhou said.

  Kai could barely hear him. She was only just conscious. Her left eye had already swollen shut and she was in agony. She tried to move her jaw but it had been hit so hard it felt dislocated. Her entire body burned with crippling pain and it was hard to even breathe. Her only coherent thought was centered on the text she had sent, hoping it had really gotten through...if it had then it would confirm where Kaplan was being imprisoned.

  She was unaware that Chan had come all the way into the room.

  He brought up short when he saw the state of the young woman with whom he had been spending time.

  “Is it true?” he asked Zhou.

  “Yes,” Zhou said. “Our scan showed a cell phone signal in the house. We traced it. It came from this room.” He showed the phone to Chan and allowed him to see the open signal. “I think it is time we turned this off,” he said.

  Zhou shut the phone down. He opened the back and removed the power pack and SIM card.

  Chan sighed tiredly. He refused to look at Kai. “Then I owe you an apology, Yang Zhou. I should have listened to you when you raised your concerns.”

  Zhou shrugged. “Let us hope we have done enough to prevent any further interference.”

  “My own vanity,” Chan said. “I allowed it to cloud my judgment.”

  “Now that it is clear again, what do you want to do with her?”

  “Let us decide that later, Zhou. For now lock her in the cellar. It will allow her time to reflect on her errors.”

  “It is extremely cold down there,” Zhou said. “She may not survive for very long.”

  “That would be a shame. I hope you can hear me, Jui Kai. Instead of a warm bed, you will spend the night in the cellar. Bolo, take her away. If she resists, make her aware how we treat traitors.”

  Bolo half carried the young woman from the room.

  “Has the American given away any useful information yet?” Zhou said.

  “Actually he has,” Chan said. “Hopefully there will be more to come. Dr. Melier’s potions have worked with surprising swiftness. Even he is surprised at the speed in which Kaplan gave up some of his secrets.”

  “Melier is extremely proficient. So what have we learned?”

  “Enough to allow us to infiltrate a section of the ordnance system.”

  “Missile control?”

  “One of the auxiliary pods apparently. It would be enough to launch a single missile if we wish to demonstrate our capability.”

  “Only one?”

  “My dear Zhou, do not forget that Zero is an extremely sophisticated platform containing hundreds, maybe even thousands, of electronic functions. We have barely scratched the surface here. Far less than we need. The cryptic codes that will unlock more and more of Zero’s operating procedures are not to be broken easily.”

  “If the Americans become aware we are attempting to break through the codes, won’t they simply change them?”

  “A valid point, Zhou, but remember we have the one man who can override any changes. Kaplan retains master codes that can break through any cyber walls thrown in his
way.”

  “And they are the harder ones to reach?”

  “Exactly. Kaplan is the master key needed to unlock Zero’s cyber vault. Dr. Melier is attempting to go further into Kaplan’s mind to reveal more of Zero’s secrets.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Phoenix Force traveled overnight from the US on a charter aircraft organized by Barbara Price with her usual efficiency. By the time McCarter and company had showed up at Stony Man Farm, Price had had their paperwork ready, including passports, entry visas and the usual credit cards made out under the group’s cover names. When they touched down, there was a smattering of snow across the Alps and a forecast of heavy falls—imminent—with a wide bank of viscous, darker cloud that appeared to be moving slowly into the general area.

  As the five trooped out of the Lear jet, hauling their gear, they felt the cutting chill of the wind. In his luggage each man had extreme-weather gear Price had informed them they would need.

  “Didn’t anyone understand when I said I was a Florida man,” Encizo complained.

  “Yeah, we understood,” Hawkins said, “but we chose to ignore it.”

  “Thanks for the support.”

  “You’re welcome,” Hawkins said, offering a dazzling smile.

  They moved into the arrival area and presented their paperwork at the desk. McCarter told the officials they weren’t there for pleasure but rather for business. That they were a research group looking into climate conditions for an American organization. He presented a folder that held paperwork to that effect, including official visas that Stony Man’s documentation section had prepared. The uniformed officials processed their entry quickly and without fuss, stamping passports and offering the usual greeting.

  From there the five went to the rental desk and McCarter told the blonde, blue-eyed young woman they had two vehicles already booked. The procedure went smoothly and with lots of smiles from the young woman. She handed over the paperwork and the keys and directed Phoenix Force to the exit door. An identical pair of Volvo SUVs stood waiting, already fully fuelled and ready. McCarter and Manning took one. The others piled into the second vehicle. The first thing Manning did was tap in the GPS coordinates for the hotel Price had arranged. The heater started to circulate warm air around the interior as Manning drove out of the lot.

  The road they traveled led them higher up into the mountain slopes. The scenery was inspiring, with forested acres and the majestic rise of the Alps ahead. Even now they could see the snow sitting deeply on the higher elevations of the mountains. The wind was pushing scraps of falling snowflakes back and forth.

  “So, do we have a plan?” Manning asked.

  McCarter, stretched out in his leather seat, considered the question.

  “Good one, Gary. Straight to the point and putting me on the spot.”

  “Thought so. You have no plan. I guess this is going to be one of your ‘plunge in and see where it goes’ schemes.”

  “Assess the situation and develop a strategy,” McCarter said. “Right now that’s what I’m doing.”

  McCarter glanced through the windshield.

  “If we get snow it could help when we make our move,” he said. “Provide cover. Come on, Gary, you’re from the frozen north. Don’t you see the advantage?”

  Manning grinned. “That’s your strategy?”

  McCarter shrugged. “Could be.”

  “Brother, we could be in trouble.”

  It took almost an hour and a half to reach the hotel.

  Barbara Price, with her usual skill, had booked Phoenix Force into a resort some twenty miles from the target house. It was the closest she could get the team. The Swiss countryside was pretty isolated after that. The rising mountain slopes, thick with swaths of trees and foliage, had few houses, and even these were all widely spaced across the landscape. The hotel parking lot was empty except for a single, powerful-looking Porsche.

  “Barb said not to be surprised if the area is quiet,” McCarter said. “We’re a few weeks shy of the skiing season.”

  “She got that right,” Manning said.

  The circling mountain range, showing white on the high peaks and upper slopes, was overhung by a blue sky that held scraps of white cloud. The air was sharp, cold, but the dark mass of heavy cloud they had seen earlier was being driven in their direction by a rising wind.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if we had snow any time now,” Hawkins said, humping luggage out of the SUV.

  “You know what you’re talking about?” Encizo quipped. “Son of the plainsman.”

  Manning said, “He could be right.”

  “Canada mountain man talks with slippery tongue,” James said, a wide grin on his face.

  Hawkins wagged a finger at him. “You won’t be laughing when you’re butt deep in the drifts, brother.”

  Phoenix Force trailed inside the spacious lobby and crossed to the desk.

  The interior was all pale wood, high beams and polished floors. Behind the reception desk a middle-aged man in dark shirt and pants waited to greet them.

  “Mr. Coyle and party, yes?”

  McCarter took the man’s outstretched hand.

  “I am Bertran Yudell,” he said. “I welcome you to our humble establishment.”

  “This is the kind of humble I could get used to,” James said.

  “So, let us get you all booked in,” Yudell said. “I have the cards for registration here. Your very nice lady who arranged the booking has provided all your details and your account is open for you.”

  The formalities took only a few minutes. Key cards were handed over.

  “Do you wish for help with your luggage?” Yudell asked.

  “No, thank you,” McCarter said. “We’ll be fine.”

  “A package was delivered for you, Herr Coyle. It is in your room.”

  “My camera equipment,” McCarter said. “I’d hoped it would arrive safely. There was some delay with the correct models. Let’s hope we received what I asked for.”

  “The young woman I spoke to assured me everything was in order. A very pleasant young lady.”

  “I’ll be sure to let her know,” McCarter said.

  “Is there anything I can get you?”

  “How about some hot coffee?” Manning suggested. “Give us ten minutes to settle in and we can take it in the lounge over there.”

  “Of course, gentlemen. I will arrange that.”

  Taking their luggage, the members of Phoenix Force followed the indicator board and climbed the stairs to the next floor. Locating their rooms, they settled their luggage, including the locked cases.

  Alone in his room, McCarter made sure the door was locked before crossing to inspect the package Price had arranged to be delivered. When he lifted it he found it to be solid. Opening it, he discovered the reason. Beneath the layers of foam and insulation were five 9 mm handguns and the same number of Cold Steel Tanto tactical knives in sheaths. The handguns comprised four Beretta 92FS models and one Browning Hi-Power, McCarter’s favorite. Each pistol was accompanied by a pair of loaded magazines and a shoulder rig. Identical screw-on suppressors for the pistols had also been included. At the base of the package lay a row of flash-bang canisters that, McCarter knew, could be used as an entry diversion.

  “Everything except the kitchen sink,” McCarter said. “One day, love, I’m going to find out how you work these bloody miracles.”

  McCarter knew that Stony Man, with the long-term expertise of Mack Bolan, had set up a number of ordnance suppliers in certain areas of the globe. These clandestine outfits provided matériel for select clientele and the Farm was one of them. In the case of Stony Man, contact was made under highly secure covers, all transactions carried out via cash and with no paperwork attached. Purchases were delivered by carriers who were discreet an
d highly professional.

  Once he had checked the weapons, McCarter closed the package and placed it at the back of his closet, locking it and pocketing the key. The weapons would be distributed later to his teammates.

  * * *

  THEY MET UP again downstairs, making their way to the lounge area, where comfortable armchairs were placed around the log fire burning in the generous hearth. One wall of the lounge allowed a wide view of the slopes beyond. As soon as Phoenix Force was settled, a young woman pushed in a wheeled trolley with the requested coffee as well as platters of cuts of cold meat and cheeses. There was also sliced bread and Swiss butter.

  Herr Yudell appeared standing to one side as he watched his guests help themselves.

  “Please do not hesitate to ask for anything else you require, gentlemen.”

  “At the moment it’s fine,” James said.

  “I hope you enjoy your stay while you are here. Business or pleasure, we will endeavor to make your time in my country an enjoyable one.”

  “So,” Manning said after Yudell had departed, “are we geared up for business, or only pleasure?”

  “Something tells me fun and games are not likely to be on the agenda,” McCarter said. “But we now have the necessary tools. Thanks to our guardian angel back home.”

  Phoenix Force was alone in the lounge. No other guests were around as they drank their coffee and sampled the food provided.

  “We’ll need to send Barb a thank-you card for all this,” James said.

  “That we will,” McCarter said, refilling his coffee cup. “Spend too much time here and we’ll forget why we came.”

  Encizo said, “Somehow I don’t think so.”

  James had brought his laptop with him. He opened it and powered up. He tapped in the coded sequence for a secure connection to the Farm’s satellite and waited. Within minutes, he was able to log in and video connect with the Zero Command site.

  Claire Valens came on screen.

  “Good to see you,” she said.

 

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