Dirk Pitt18-Black Wind

by Cussler, Clive

  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.