pretext. "It would be no surprise to expect the warped minds
possessing these type of weapons to use them on a historical adversary,
which in your case is the Japanese."
A thin smile crossed Kang's lips and he sat back in his chair with
satisfaction, less from the meal than from Dirk's words.
"A nice bluff, Mr. Pitt. The fact that your NUMA vessel was neither
armed nor escorted during the salvage operation tells me that your
country did not think much of your discovery on the I-403. And your
presumptive guess as to the operative use of the biological weapons is
quite off the mark."
"What exactly is your ... intended use of the weapons?" Summer
stammered.
"Perhaps your own country," Kang teased as the color drained from
Summer's face. "Or perhaps not. That is neither here nor there."
"The smallpox vaccine is readily available in the United States in
quantities sufficient to vaccinate the entire population," Dirk
countered. "Tens of thousands of health workers have already been
inoculated. A release of the smallpox virus might create a minor
panic, at best. Certainly, there's not much risk of creating an
epidemic."
"Certainly a release of Variola major, or common smallpox, would
register only a small nuisance. But your vaccinations would be useless
against a chimera."
"A 'chimera'? Of Greek lore? A monster-part lion, part goat, and part
serpent?"
"Indeed. Another monster, if you will, would be a hybrid mix of
virulent agents combined into a single organism that maintains the
lethal components of each element. A biological weapon against which
your vaccinations would be laughably impotent."
"But, in God's name, why?" Summer cried.
Kang calmly finished his meal and set his napkin on the table, folding
it into neat thirds before speaking.
"You see, my country has been divided against itself since your
incursion in the fifties. What you Americans fail to understand is
that all Koreans dream of the day when our peninsula is united as one
nation. Constant interference from outside meddlers will keep us from
achieving that dream. Just as the presence of foreign military forces
on our soil creates an impediment to the day when unification becomes a
reality."
"The American military presence in South Korea ensures that the dream
of unification will not be realized at the point of a North Korean
bayonet," Dirk replied.
"South Korea no longer has the stomach for a fight, and the military
power of North Korea offers the leadership and stabilizing force
necessary to restore order during reunification."
"I don't believe it," Summer muttered to Dirk. "We're having lunch
with a cross between Typhoid Mary and Joseph Stalin."
Kang, not understanding the remark, continued speaking. "The young
people of South Korea today have had their fill of your military
occupation and abuses to the citizenry. They are not fearful of
unification and will help pave the way for a speedy resolution."
"In other words, once the U.S. military is removed the forces of North
Korea will march south and unify the country by force."
"Absent the U.S. defensive forces, military estimates suggest that
eighty percent of the South Korean Peninsula can be overrun within
seventy-two hours. Casualties will be necessary, but the country will
be unified under Workers' Party rule before the United States, Japan,
or any other outside interfering force has the opportunity to react."
Dirk and Summer sat in stunned silence. Their fears of a terrorist
plot using the Japanese smallpox had been well founded, but they had no
suspicion of the magnitude at stake: no less than the overthrow or the
Republic of Korea in conjunction with the wholesale death of millions
of Americans.
"I think you may be underestimating the resolve of the United
States, particularly in the face of a terrorist attack. Our president
has shown no hesitation in applying swift and fearsome retribution,"
Dirk said.
"Perhaps. But retribution against whom? The pattern of events all
still points to a Japanese source ..."
"The Japanese Red Army again," Dirk interjected.
"The Japanese Red Army. You see, there simply are no other
likelihoods. Your military, intelligence, and political resources will
be focused entirely on Japan while, at the same time, we will be
mandating through our government the removal of all U.S. military
personnel from the Korean Peninsula within thirty days. Your country's
knee-jerk media will be in a frenzy over the epidemic casualties and so
focused on finding a culprit in Japan that the American military
expulsion from Korea will be a minor news item until well after the
fact."
"The intelligence community will ultimately see past the Red Army
facade and trace the actions back to you and your communist pals up
north."
"Perhaps. But how long will that take? How long has it been for your
government to solve the 2001 anthrax killings in your own capital? When
and if that day should come, emotions will no longer be running high.
It will all be a 'moot point," as you say."
"Killing millions of people and calling it 'moot'?" Summer injected.
"You are sick."
"How many of my countrymen did you kill in the fifties?" Kang retorted
with a flash of anger in his eyes.
"We left plenty of our own blood on your soil," Summer replied, glaring
back at Kang.
Dirk peered across the table at Tongju, whose dark eyes were narrowly
focused on Summer. The assassin was not accustomed to people speaking
belligerently to Kang, and most certainly not a woman. While his face
remained expressionless, a piqued intolerance oozed from his gaze.
"Aren't you overlooking your own business interests?" Dirk said to
Kang, deflecting the tone. "Your industrial profits won't continue to
accrue if the almighty state Workers' Party suddenly takes the
reins."
Kang smiled weakly. "You Americans, always the capitalists at heart.
As it is, I have already arranged the sale of half my holdings to a
French conglomerate, with payment in Swiss francs. And when my
homeland is reunited, who better to help manage the state control of
South Korea's industrial resources than myself?" he said arrogantly.
"A tidy arrangement," Dirk replied. "A pity there won't be a nation
around that will be interested in purchasing the ill-gotten goods of a
totalitarian regime."
"You forget China, Mr. Pitt. A huge market in and of itself, as well
as a friendly conduit for funneling goods to the world markets. There
will, of course, be a business interruption during the transfer of
power, but output will quickly recover. There is always a demand for
inexpensive, quality products."
"Sure," Dirk said sarcastically. "Name me one quality consumer product
that ever came out of a communist country. Face it, Kang, you're on
the losing end of a new global authority. There's no longer room for
warped despots
who screw their own countrymen for personal wealth,
military might, or grand delusions of greatness. You and your buddies
in the north might have a few laughs along the way, but, at the end of
the day, you'll all be steam rolled by a concept foreign to you called
'freedom." "
Kang sat stiffly for a moment, a long look of annoyance settling over
his face. "Thank you for the civics lesson. It has been a most
enlightening meal. Good-bye, Miss Pitt, good-bye, Mr. Pitt," he said
coldly.
With a glance to the side wall by Kang, the guards were instantly upon
them, pulling the two to their feet. Dirk had thoughts of grabbing a
dinner knife off the table and having a go at the guards but
was dissuaded when he saw Tongju pointing a Glock pistol at his
chest.
"Take them to the river cave," Kang barked.
"Thanks for the warm hospitality," Dirk muttered at Kang. "I look
forward to returning the privilege."
Kang said nothing, nodding at the guards instead, who forcibly pushed
the pair toward the elevator. Dirk and Summer glanced at each other
with a knowing look. Their time was short now. If they were to make
it out of Kang's grasp alive, they would have to act soon.
The immediate problem was Tongju and his Glock 22. Any resistance
would be futile while the assassin kept his gun aimed at them, as there
was little doubt he would use it without hesitation. Tongju followed
the four guards as they herded Dirk and Summer to the elevator, his
pistol still drawn. As the doors slid open, two pairs of hands shoved
them forcefully to the rear of the elevator. Tongju barked something
in Korean, and then, to Dirk's relief, remained standing in the dining
hall with one of the guards, a menacing look of satisfaction on his
face as the elevator doors slid shut.
The elevator was cramped with five bodies in it, which would work to
their advantage. Dirk glanced at Summer and nodded ever so slightly,
his sister acknowledging the silent message with a quick wink. She
immediately grabbed her stomach and groaned, leaning forward as if she
were about to vomit. The nearest guard, a chunky man with a shaved
head, took the bait and bent down slightly toward Summer. Like a cat
mistakenly pouncing onto a hot stove, she suddenly sprang her body
upright, jerking her knee into the man's groin with all the might she
could muster. The man's eyes nearly burst out of their sockets as her
knee hit home and he doubled over in agony, a shriek of pain quivering
from his lips.
Summer's move was all Dirk needed to neutralize guard number two. As
all three guards' attention turned initially to Summer, he launched an
uppercut that connected squarely on the man's jaw, nearly
lifting him out of his shoes. Dirk watched from inches away as the
man's eyes rolled to the back of his head and he slumped to the floor
unconscious.
Guard number three took a small step back as the fighting broke out and
attempted to raise the muzzle of his rifle at Dirk. Summer reacted by
grabbing the shoulders of the man she'd kneed and shoving his
hunched-over body toward the standing guard. The still-groaning bald
man swayed heavily into his taller accomplice with just enough force to
offset the other man's balance. It was enough time to allow Dirk to
step over the fallen guard and let go a left cross that landed a
glancing blow on the gunman's temple. The dazed guard tried to counter
with a braced karate kick, but Dirk's right fist was already there,
mashing solidly into the man's larynx. The guard's face turned blue as
he fought to take in air and he dropped to his knees, grabbing his
throat with both hands. Dirk grabbed the man's assault rifle and swung
it around viciously, striking the stock against the face of the guard
struggling with Summer. The blow threw the man against the back of the
elevator, where he slid to the floor unconscious.
"Nice work, Smokin' Joe," Summer praised.
"Let's not wait for round two," Dirk gasped as the elevator descent
slowed beneath their feet. He checked that the safety on the assault
rifle was turned off, then prepared to leap out of the elevator as the
doors opened. Only there was no where to go.
As the doors slid open, the muzzles of three AK-74s were thrust in, the
compensators at the end of the gun barrels poking into their faces. A
security guard sitting at a bank of television monitors had witnessed
the fracas in the elevator over closed-circuit video and quickly
dispatched a cadre of guards in the vicinity.
"Saw!" the guards yelled in Korean, their meaning perfectly clear.
Dirk and Summer froze in their tracks, wondering what degree of hair
triggers existed on the assault rifles pointed their way. Dirk gently
dropped his rifle to the ground, detecting a stirring in the elevator
behind him. Too late, he turned to see the third guard staggering
from
the elevator while swinging the butt of his rifle toward his head. He
tried to duck but the gun handle was too far along its way toward the
top of his skull, where it collided with a thump.
For an instant, he saw a blinding light and shining stars, and, through
the fog, an odd glimpse of Summer's feet. But that soon gave way to a
fading darkness that turned to black as the curtain closed and he
crumpled to the ground in a limp heap.
A throbbing jolt of pain shooting down from the top of his skull to the
tip of his toes was the first evidence sent to his brain that he was
still alive. As consciousness slowly seeped back to Dirk, his mind
performed a physical inventory, denoting via neural signals which parts
of the body were deviating from their normal state. Pain signals from
his wrists, arms, and shoulders began registering as if they were
pulling at a great weight, but were easily outclassed by the agonizing
pangs from his head. More confusing to his senses was the feeling from
his feet and legs that he was standing in a bucket of water. As the
shroud of fog gradually lifted, he opened his eyes to a wet, dark, and
gloomy cave.
"Welcome back to the land of the living," Summer's voice echoed through
the gloomy cavern.
"You didn't happen to get the license number of the truck that hit me?"
he said groggily.
"Yes, but I'm pretty sure he wasn't carrying insurance."
"Where the hell are we?" Dirk asked, his mind beginning to register
the concepts of time and space.
"A side cavern, just off Kang's floating dock. That cool water
nibbling at your navel is the River Han."
The bucket of water he thought he was standing in was in fact a cavern
full of rising river water. His vision now cleared, Dirk could see
through the murky light that Summer was spread-eagled and handcuffed to
two large barge anchors. Large weights rather than actual anchors,
they were nothing more than a three-foot-square block of concrete. The
white blocks were slickened with a decade's coating of pale green
algae, with a rusty iron mooring ring protruding from the top. Dirk
sa
w that there were nearly a dozen of the weights aligned in a row
across the floor of the cavern. He and Summer stood adjacent to each
other, their arms stretched wide with each wrist handcuffed to
adjoining blocks.
Dirk's eyes wandered about the dim cavern. In the fading dusk light
that filtered through the mouth of the cave, he could see the distinct
line on the wall that he was looking for. It was the high-water mark,
which he noted uncomfortably ran two feet above their heads.
"Death by slow drowning," he said.
"Our Fu Manchu friend, Tongju, was most insistent," Summer replied
grimly. "He even prevented one of the guards from shooting you so that
we could wallow down here together."
"I must remember to send him a thank-you card." Dirk looked down and
saw that the water was now sloshing around his rib cage.
"Water's rising pretty fast."
"We're near the mouth of the Han River, so there's plenty of tidal
surge at work." Summer gazed fearfully at her brother. "I'd estimate
that the water level has risen over a foot in the last hour."
Seeing the despair in his sister's eyes, Dirk's mind engaged in high
gear to determine a means of escape. "We have another hour and a half,
tops," he calculated.
"I just remembered something," Summer said, crinkling her brow. "I've got a small nail file in my side pocket. Might be like trying to
kill a pterodactyl with a flyswatter, but it might help." "Sure, toss
it over," Dirk replied.
Dirk Pitt18-Black Wind Page 33