Weep, Moscow, Weep

by Gar Wilson

  "You said the SAD was good, Gray," Alekseyev muttered.

  "Oh?" Lo Hung-chin turned to Katz. "How nice of you."

  "You Chinese have been involved in espionage longer than anyone else," Katz replied. "Sun Tzu wrote the first textbook on the subject back in... 500 B.C, I believe?"

  "Closer to 510," the Chinese said, nodding. "You refer to the Ping Fa, the Principles of War. An excellent book. Have you read it?"

  "Indeed," Katz assured him.

  "It is good to speak with an educated man," Lo declared.

  "We're trying to find the people who stole the formula," Katz said. "Do you know who they are?"

  "If we knew that, we would not have attempted to kidnap your friends," Lo answered. "That turned out to be a very bad choice of action. Your people must be very well trained, Mr. Gray."

  "The best," Katz confirmed. "What's your interest in this matter, Mr. Lo?"

  "Our interest is simple self-preservation," the SAD man replied. "The Soviets may not be our enemies, but they are certainly not our friends. Thus we are concerned when they produce new biochemical weapons close to our borders, weapons that might be used against us in the future. Even an accident could be lethal to millions of Chinese. Something like the Union Carbide chemical leak in India in 1984. If the wind blew the VL-800 across our border, who knows what destruction would occur."

  "So you stole it?" Alekseyev inquired.

  "Certainly not," Lo replied. "Although we considered that choice of action. Perhaps we would have done it if someone else had not done so first."

  "What does the SAD plan to do here in Hong Kong?" Colonel Hunntington-Smythe asked.

  "Apparently the formula is here," Lo answered. "That means it is still a great threat to my nation. This island is located by our coast, Colonel. It is very dangerous for you and for us."

  "Are you familiar with an organization known as TRIO?" Katz asked.

  "TRIO?" the Chinese said, frowning. "It is a criminal syndicate. Very large and well organized. They operate here in Hong Kong, Taiwan, Thailand, even within mainland China."

  "What can you tell us about their activities in Hong Kong?" Katz inquired hopefully.

  "Unfortunately we don't even have details about what they are doing in mainland China," Lo admitted. "Are you saying that TRIO stole the formula?"

  "A strong suspicion, Mr. Lo," the Israeli replied.

  "Let us make an agreement, gentlemen," the Chinese suggested. "If you will release our two agents who are currently your prisoners, the SAD will attempt to learn more about TRIO, and we shall share this information with you."

  "Sounds all right," Hunntington-Smythe said with a nod. He did not bother to tell the Chinese that the SIS did not want to hold the SAD agents anyway. "You've got a deal."

  "And," Lo continued, "we also want the formula to make the VL-800 for our own CBW arsenal."

  "I'm afraid we can't agree to that," Alekseyev declared.

  "I suggest you get authorization," Lo stated. "Mainland China is interested only in a balance of power. The Soviet Union has the VL-800 formula. I assume the United States must have it or they wouldn't be cooperating with the KGB. Most probably England now has it or the governor of Hong Kong would not sanction your activities here. To maintain the balance of power for the safety of the entire world, the People's Republic should have the formula as well."

  "Help us with the mission and you'll get it," Katz declared.

  "You can authorize this?" the Chinese asked with surprise.

  "You have my word," the Israeli confirmed.

  "Well, I think we have a deal, gentlemen," Lo smiled.

  "But I have a condition for sharing the formula with the People's Republic," Katz added. "Your government will have to agree to participate in an international research committee to find an antidote for the VL-800 formula. I suggest this committee consist of scientists from the Soviet Union, the United States and other countries including your own. Find an antidote, share it with everybody else and render the VL-800 harmless as a CBW weapon for anyone to use against another nation."

  "What an extraordinary notion," the Chinese said with amazement. "Will all the governments of the other nations involved agree to this?"

  "If they don't," Katz answered, "I suggest we go public. You fellows might not be able to do that, but I can. Threaten to reveal the details about a deadly CBW device created by the Soviets and shared with the Americans, the British and the Chinese. The superpowers can either cooperate to find an antidote or they can all have world opinion turned against them."

  "Your own people might kill you if you do this," Alekseyev warned.

  "They might try," Katz said with a shrug. "But I doubt it. I think we can make this work. What do you think, Mr. Lo?"

  "I'll speak with my superiors," the Chinese replied. "Well, this has certainly been an interesting conversation. I wonder how it will all turn out?"

  "We'll let you know," Katz told him, opening the car door.

  "Oh, Mr. Gray," Lo added, "the SAD won't forget that two of your friends killed five of our people. For now, we'll let it go as an unfortunate misunderstanding. However, if we ever have reason to cross swords with your group again... well, we won't be so gentle."

  "Thanks for the warning," Katz replied as he slid from the car. "Just remember, my people are used to playing rough."

  13

  By eight o'clock that evening, the Hong Kong police had blocked off most of Lung Harbor. The cops had been told only that an international smuggling ring was operating there. Colonel Hunntington-Smythe told the chief of police in Victoria to let SIS and agents of "Interpol" handle the close work. The police would maintain a security ring around the harbor to capture any hoodlums who might attempt to escape.

  "Bear in mind that these men are highly dangerous and probably well armed," the SIS officer warned. "Make certain your men have firearms and that they're ready to use them."

  Phoenix Force, John Trent and the three KGB agents prepared for the raid. They donned black camouflage uniforms. Katz armed himself with his Uzi, SIG Sauer P-226 pistol and a .380 Beretta for backup. McCarter stuck with his favorite weapons — an M-10 Ingram and Browning Hi-Power. Manning carried his FAL assault rifle and an Eagle .357 Magnum autoloader. James selected an M-16 assault rifle with an M-203 grenade launcher attached to the underside of the barrel, in addition to his .45 caliber Colt pistol. Encizo carried his Heckler and Koch MP-5 machine pistol, a Walther PPK in shoulder leather and a 9 mm S&W pistol on his hip.

  Besides their firearms, Phoenix Force also carried both fragmentation grenades and SAS-style flash-bang concussion blasters. Manning hauled additional explosives in his backpack, with pencil detonators in his pockets. Encizo carried his big Cold Steel Tanto on his belt and a smaller Gerber Mark II fighting dagger in an ankle sheath. Calvin James had his pet blade, a Jet Aer G-96 combat dagger, in a sheath under his right arm, clipped to his Jackass Leather shoulder holster rig.

  John Trent wore the traditional black costume of a ninja, with a cloth mask and hood that concealed his head and face except for a narrow gap for his eyes. His split-toed tabi boots were designed for climbing, and his gi jacket had concealed pockets that contained shaken throwing stars, metsubushi sight removers, and two spare magazines for his Colt Commander. He carried the pistol in shoulder leather under his left arm. The ninja-do sword was thrust in a black obi sash around his waist, and his manrikigusari was tucked in the sash at the small of his back.

  Major Alekseyev, Captain Zhdanov and Lieutenant Savchenko carried their Makarov 9 mm pistols and Sterling submachine guns supplied by the Hong Kong SIS. Kauo Yvet-sang and Gerald Crane were also armed with Sterlings.

  The assault force congregated by the police barricade. Colonel Hunntington-Smythe raised a pair of Bushnell binoculars and peered down at Lung Harbor at a small ship docked there. Track lights mounted on the storage houses illuminated the pier. Crates were stacked along the harbor, and husky stevedores hauled burdens to the gangplank of the vess
el.

  "I count nine... no, ten men," the SIS officer announced. "Make that eleven. Probably more on the ship and in the buildings."

  "We'll find out," Katz replied. "Does Kauo Yvet-sang have our warrant?"

  "I'll give it to him," Hunntington-Smythe stated. "The search warrant is made out for the SIS, with Interpol attached, to search for alleged contraband, including drugs, illegal firearms and other dangerous substances. That means a senior SIS officer should deliver the warrant to Po Chiangping."

  "There could be violence," the Israeli warned. "Are you sure you're up to it?"

  "I don't think I'm much older than you, Mr. Gray," the SIS colonel said defensively. "I'm fifty-two years old."

  "Actually," Katz replied with a shrug, "you're a few years younger than I am. That isn't the point. You've been deskbound for a long time. When was the last time you were in the field or even at a firing range?"

  "I can take care of myself," Hunntington-Smythe declared, taking a snub-nosed .32 caliber revolver from a holster on his belt.

  "Can't you do better than that thing?" Manning remarked. "It's not a combat weapon. The caliber is too small for stopping power, the barrel is too short for accuracy and it only holds six rounds. You won't be able to reload it as quickly as an autoloader."

  "But revolvers don't jam," Hunntington-Smythe said as he opened the cylinder and checked his revolver.

  "Any weapon can jam," the Canadian told him. "You want to carry that peashooter for backup, that's up to you. But, you'd better take along something with some decent stopping power and a range greater than six feet."

  "This will do," the SIS colonel said with annoyance, clearly offended by the younger man's advice.

  "Give me the warrant," Katz ordered.

  "You're not SIS," Hunntington-Smythe complained.

  "You're not ready to go into combat," the Israeli insisted. "Now give me the warrant. I'm not going to have you jeopardize this operation out of personal vanity."

  "Here," the SIS officer hissed through clenched teeth as he thrust the search warrant into Katz's hand. "You'd better not make any mistakes, Gray."

  "He doesn't make many," Rafael Encizo commented. "I think we're ready to roll. Everybody has been briefed."

  "Let's do it," Katz said with a nod, and Phoenix Force and its allies moved into position.

  Katz, McCarter and Kauo Yvet-sang went forward. They headed straight for the center of the harbor. Encizo, Alekseyev and Lieutenant Savchenko formed a line of defense behind them. James commanded another backup team with Gerald Crane and Captain Zhdanov. Gary Manning, the rifle expert, remained at the rear. Trent would do what a ninja does best. He would penetrate the enemy position in his own fashion.

  Several stevedores saw three heavily armed figures approach the harbor. Two of them started to dash to a storage house, but Kauo Yvet-sang shouted a warning in Chinese. The stevedores stopped abruptly and raised their hands over their heads.

  "We're with the Security Intelligence Service and Interpol, Special International Enforcement Division!" Katz announced in a loud voice. "We have a search warrant..."

  "I am Po Chiang-ping," a tall, pole-thin Asian declared in crisp English as he stomped from a small shacklike building across from the storage houses. "I am the company manager of this harbor after 6:00 p.m. What do you want?"

  "We've been informed of illegal activities that are specified in the warrant, Mr. Po," Katz replied. "Please do not resist. We have the harbor surrounded."

  "No one intends to resist," Po said with disgust as he jammed his hands into his pants pockets. "Let me see that warrant."

  "Of course," Katz said, using the tri-hook of his prosthesis to pull the document from his shirt pocket.

  Po reached for it with one hand, but suddenly drew a small .25 automatic from his pocket. He tried to grab Katz's prosthetic arm, planning to pull the Israeli off-balance to jam the .25 against his head and threaten to kill Katz if the others did not drop their weapons.

  It was a clumsy tactic that did not have a chance of success against Yakov Katzenelenbogen. The Israeli was faster than Po. The steel hooks of his prosthesis snared Po's wrist before he could grab the Israeli. Katz chopped the stubby barrel of his Uzi against the fist holding the diminutive .25 caliber handgun. The little pistol fell to the boardwalk.

  Katz applied pressure with the hooks and twisted forcibly. Bone crunched, and Po screamed as his wrist was pulverized in the viselike metal grip. Katz slammed the frame of his Uzi against the side of the Asian's skull and knocked him out cold. Po Chiang-ping fell senseless at Katz's feet.

  This was a signal for all hell to break loose.

  Four stevedores near the trio launched a desperate attack. Armed with knives and grappling hooks, they charged Katz, McCarter and Kauo Yvet-sang. The tactic was virtually suicide. David McCarter immediately hosed the attackers with a long spray of 9 mm rounds from his Ingram M-10. Parabellums chopped into the chests of two opponents, kicking their bodies into backward arcs ending in death.

  Kauo Yvet-sang hesitated as the other two leaped toward him. He raised his Sterling in time to block a grappling hook, but the force of his opponent's charge toppled the SIS lieutenant. Both men fell to the boardwalk, the stevedore on top of Kauo Yvet-sang.

  The muscular stevedore placed a hand on Kauo's Sterling and shoved it against the SIS man's chest to pin him as the hook rose. The hood planned to bury the sharp tip in Kauo's face. The SIS agent suddenly bent a knee and pumped it into his foe's kidney. The stevedore fell forward, and his hook was thrown off target. Kauo Yvet-sang heard metal bite into wood less than an inch from his head.

  Kauo's hands streaked out to slap his palms into the stevedore's ears. The man cried out in pain from a ruptured eardrum. Kauo swiftly slashed the side of his hand across his opponent's windpipe. As the stevedore tumbled off Kauo Yvet-sang, his hands clutching his throat, the fourth attacker prepared to plunge the seven-inch blade of his knife into the SIS agent's heart.

  McCarter's Ingram fired a three-round burst. The impact hurled the knife artist away from the fallen Kauo. The stevedore fell, and Kauo Yvet-sang rose to one knee in time to train his Sterling subgun on a group of gun-toting figures who suddenly emerged from a storage house. The SIS man triggered his weapon, and tong enforcers screamed as bullets tore their bodies to bits.

  Kauo did not take out the group alone. Rafael Encizo and the two KGB agents under his command supplied additional firepower. Encizo nailed two opponents with a volley of H&K projectiles while Major Alekseyev and Lieutenant Savchenko burned two more with Sterling slugs. The tong soldiers melted to the planks, their flesh ravaged by more than thirty 9 mm rounds.

  A figure armed with an old British-made Sten Mark I submachine gun emerged from the tiny office building. He aimed his weapon at Katz and McCarter, and suddenly his forehead exploded with a splitting headache. The 7.62 mm missile tunneled through his brain and killed him before he could hear the report of Gary Manning's FAL rifle. The Canadian marksman swiftly swung the muzzle of his weapon toward movement at the window of a warehouse. A figure used the barrel of a rifle to shatter glass and prepared to aim at the Phoenix pair on the dock.

  "Not today," Manning rasped as he squeezed the trigger of his FAL twice.

  Two rounds struck the would-be assassin in the center of the chest. The figure dropped from view.

  "Not ever," Manning added. Switching the selector switch to full-auto, the Canadian commando jogged closer to the battle.

  Calvin James realized Captain Zhdanov and Gerald Crane had little, if any, combat experience. That was why they had stayed to the rear. The KGB captain and the CIA agent who secretly wanted to be the star of Miami Vice could get themselves killed if they wanted, James thought, but Phoenix Force did not intend to let the pair interfere with the mission.

  The only problem, as James saw it, was what the hell to do with the green troopers. The solution was supplied when enemy gunmen started to smash windows to aim their weapons at the raiders. James orde
red Zhdanov and Crane to open fire at the building. Sterling full-auto slugs chewed at the walls and windowsills. A couple rounds even struck one of the gunmen. All James wanted his men to do for the moment was pin down the enemy.

  The black badass pointed his M-16 at a different target. Several figures were darting about on the ship docked at Lung Harbor. Several shapes carried firearms, and two were busy setting up a Type 67 light machine gun on the deck. The Type 67 was manufactured in the People's Republic of China. Obviously TRIO had gun-smuggling connections with the mainland.

  James aimed his assault rifle carefully, the butt braced at his hip and the barrel canted up. He triggered the M-203 attached to the rifle. A 40 mm explosive shell was hurled from the grenade launcher. It sailed into the ship and blasted the deck spart, the explosion crushing the Type 67 chattergun and ripping its team limb from limb. Two opponents were pitched over the handrail by the force of the blast. They splashed into the water and floated lifeless on the surface.

  Katz, McCarter and Kauo dashed for cover. They ran toward the stacks of crates, but that sanctuary was already occupied. Two enemy gunmen opened fire at the trio. Kauo threw himself to the boardwalk and fumbled with his weapon. Katz landed on his belly and braced his Uzi across the forearm of his prosthesis. The Israeli returned fire with deadly accuracy. One gunman tossed his Type 56 assault rifle in the air. He lowered his outspread fingers toward his bullet-shattered face, but he died before they reached it.

  McCarter yanked the pin from an SAS concussion grenade and hurled it at the crates while Katz covered him, letting loose a barrage of Uzi slugs. The flash-bang blaster exploded. Three crates tumbled from the stack. A tong buttonman stumbled from cover and collapsed, blood pouring from his nostrils and ears.

  Kauo bolted for the crates. He suddenly spun about, dropped his Sterling subgun and sat down hard. The SIS man clasped his left hand to the fountain of blood that bubbled from his bullet-punctured right bicep. A gunman on the roof of a storage house had seen Kauo go down and aimed his Sten Mark I at the SIS agent, determined to finish the job.