“We’re going to need paramedics here, stat,” radioed Atlas as he provided cover, there no certainty more hostiles weren’t positioned nearby.
“Is he going to be okay?” asked Davis, tears streaming down her face.
Niner applied a pressure bandage, causing Temple to gasp. “He’ll be fine, ma’am. I’ve patched up worse than this.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the big man. “That big lug got shot in the ass once. I saved him.”
Atlas smacked his ass. “And the ass.”
Niner grinned at Davis. “And that’s a lot of ass.”
Temple reached up and grabbed him by the vest. “He had a partner.”
Niner’s eyes narrowed. “What?”
“He told me to tell you he had a partner.”
Temple dropped to the concrete, unconscious.
55
Palo Alto Airport
Palo Alto, California
“Zero-One, Zero-Two. Be advised, shots fired. The hostiles are all down, as is Penn. Davis is safe, Temple has been shot. Paramedics inbound, over.”
Dawson cursed at Red’s update as he rushed toward the SUVs left for them. “Everyone take cover, now!”
As if on cue, a bullet ricocheted off the pavement where he had been standing, another a moment later, a sniper dialed in on their position. The others pressed against the side of the SUV as several more shots slammed into the opposite side of the vehicle.
Dawson’s trained ear listened to the impacts, followed by the shockwave of the shot, the bullet traveling faster than the sound. “I’d say he’s about a mile out.”
“Agreed,” said Jagger. “That means he’d really have to move to try and get an angle on us.”
Dawson frowned. “It also means with our equipment, we have no hope of hitting him.”
Two more shots slammed into the SUV, then there was nothing.
Jagger glanced at Dawson. “Do you think they’re done?”
“Why don’t you poke those big ass lips up there and check?”
Jagger flipped him the bird, opting instead to stay put.
Dawson pulled the ball cap he’d been sporting as part of his cover from his head, and put it on the barrel of his MP5, raising it up over the hood of the SUV.
Nothing.
“Maybe they know that trick.”
Dawson glanced at Jagger. “Would they? It’s not like they’ve got a lot of movies in North Korea.”
Jagger nodded. “Imagine dating a North Korean woman? All the jokes would be new!”
Dawson slowly rose, prepared to drop at any moment back to safety, but if the sniper were worth his salt, it would be too late.
Still nothing.
He stood all the way, then stared down at the others. “You ladies going to just sit there?”
Jagger looked up at him. “If it’s okay with you.”
56
Outside the Embassy of the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea
Mosfilmovskaya Street, Moscow, Russian Federation
Kane sat across the street from the North Korean embassy in Moscow, sipping a cup of coffee and chowing down on his McDonald’s breakfast as any good American tourist should be. It was so stereotypical, it would raise zero suspicions with the North Koreans—no spy would label himself American so obviously.
And none would proudly sport a New York Yankees ball cap.
He didn’t care if he was spotted, that was the point. What he did care about, was spotting Colonel Park Ji-Sung. He was the only man Penn had identified, and he had said he was part of Bureau 121 when he had seen him years ago. And if he was a colonel like Langley said, and he was stationed at a foreign post, he was certainly high enough up in the chain of command, and in the good graces of the Dear Leader, that he might actually know something worthwhile, including how to wipe the ToolKit from their computer systems.
Washington also wanted Park interrogated to find out what other moles might be operating on behalf of Bureau 121 or the North Korean government. By grabbing him here, and interrogating him here, there would be few ramifications, as long as the Russians didn’t catch wind of it.
When they had arrived and checked into their hotel, a care package from Langley was waiting for them under the bed, including all the comms and weapons any good spy would need, along with all the known information on Park.
And that was nothing beyond his name and photo, and the fact he was at the embassy.
He and Sherrie had set up surveillance on the embassy within an hour, and before staff should normally be expected to arrive, hoping to spot Park before he made it inside. There was no way they’d be picking him up now, but if they could track his movements after he left at the end of the day, they could grab him without the benefit of the North Korean security detail.
“I have him.”
Kane casually glanced to his left, sipping his coffee, spotting Sherrie heading away from the embassy, several dozen people walking in both directions. He scanned ahead as he took another bite of his McMuffin, scanning the crowd.
His eyes came to rest on a short Asian man, standing out from the others. He was wearing civilian clothes, though there was no doubt it was Park.
Sherrie turned her head, waving for a cab. She slammed into him. Kane couldn’t hear the conversation, but she was sufficiently animated for him to guess apologies were exchanged, though one sided, before Park continued, and Sherrie resumed her search for a cab.
“It’s done.”
Kane swallowed the last bite of his sandwich as Sherrie climbed into a cab. He stood, tossing the wrapper and bag into a nearby bin, then slowly strolled toward their hotel as Park entered the embassy.
With a tracking device that would allow them to follow his every move.
Colonel Park strode into his office, Captain Tann rushing in a moment later, closing the door before Park had a chance to remove his jacket.
“Sir, we have a problem.”
Park tensed before forcing himself into his chair. He wasn’t about to let a mere junior officer affect his routine. There was a knock on the door.
“Yes.”
His secretary entered, his morning coffee in one hand, his morning briefs in the other. She said nothing, instead delivering the items then bowing before beating a hasty retreat at Tann’s impatient stare.
Park held up a finger, cutting off Tann. His first sip would not be interrupted. He put the coffee aside and leaned back in his chair. “What is it, Captain?”
“Agent K is dead, and so is the retrieval team.”
Park closed his eyes as he sighed, his entire body going numb. “How?”
He heard Tann drop into the chair. “We don’t know. Initial reports are that local police showed up, but I can’t believe they managed to kill eight highly trained soldiers.”
Park opened his eyes. “I would tend to agree. But Agent K is dead?”
“Yes.”
“You’re certain?”
“Yes. The members of the team assigned to watch the airport were able to observe the aftermath. Agent K is dead.”
“And the woman?”
“She is alive, but Temple was severely wounded. I don’t have a status on him.”
Park batted away the words. “It doesn’t matter. None of it matters anymore. Agent K is dead, so any secrets he may have had are now safe.”
“But what of the team?”
“They’re untraceable, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then we won’t worry about them. The Americans will have figured out by now that our ambassador’s son was involved in the initial retrieval attempt, meaning they know it was us that was after him. They will look at eight Korean bodies and know that again, it was us after him. We are in no worse position now than we were yesterday.”
Tann nodded, though not convincingly. “I can’t believe you are so calm, Colonel.”
Park shrugged. “My fate is sealed already. At least Agent K is dead, which may buy some leniency, but I expect to be recalled at any momen
t.” He sipped his coffee, better than anything available back home. “Has Pyongyang been informed?”
Tann stared at his shoes. “Umm, I felt it should come from a senior officer, sir.”
Park chuckled. “Very well. Place the call.”
57
Moscow Marriott Royal Aurora Hotel
Moscow, Russian Federation
The coded three-one-two knock at the door had Kane drawing his weapon and heading for the peephole, Sherrie taking up position around the corner with her own weapon. He eyed the man wearing Aeroflot coveralls.
Kane opened the door, and a suitcase was handed to him.
“Your lost luggage, sir. We’re terribly sorry for the inconvenience.”
Kane signed the clipboard shoved in his face. “No problem. At least you found it.”
The man smiled then disappeared down the hallway as Kane closed the door. He locked it then carried the suitcase to the bed, tossing it on the mattress with a bounce. Sherrie placed her weapon on the nightstand as he opened the case. He removed a large manila envelope, handing it to her, then smiled at the Russian officer’s uniform neatly folded underneath.
Sherrie pulled out two sets of identity papers and a briefing note. “Looks like the Russians have been informed about Bureau 121 operating out of the embassy and they’re pissed. Langley says they’ll be hitting the embassy in an hour to arrest the ‘spies,’ and they want us to get in there and wipe the ToolKit from their computers if possible.”
Kane’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, is that all?”
“I’m to play a moron millennial tourist, applying for a visa to visit the wonderful Democratic People’s Republic of Korea.”
“If it’s safe for Dennis Rodman, then it should be for you too.”
“It’s so sweet how you care about my welfare.”
Kane stared at her with a smile. “It is, isn’t it?” He opened his new wallet filled with ID. “And apparently I am Major Igor Vasiliev.” He tossed it on the bed then unbuttoned his shirt. “Anything in there about how the Russians are justifying breaking international law by entering the embassy?”
Sherrie grinned as she pulled out a lighter and lit the paper on fire. “Apparently they kidnapped the North Korean ambassador a few hours ago and got his permission in writing to enter.”
Kane shook his head as he pulled off his pants. “Gotta love the Russians.”
Sherrie gestured toward his underwear. “Need me to step outside?”
Kane’s eyes narrowed. “Why would I want you to do that?” He hopped on the bed, bouncing on his side with an elbow already cocked under his head. “It is our honeymoon, after all.”
Sherrie picked up her weapon. “This is the only gun I’m touching today.”
Kane rolled off the bed. “Oh well, you don’t know what you’re missing.”
Sherrie headed for the bathroom. “Hurry up, we don’t have much time.”
“Are we still talking about the same thing?” called Kane after her. “I can be quick.”
Sherrie groaned. “I don’t think that’s something you want to be advertising.”
58
Embassy of the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea
Mosfilmovskaya Street, Moscow, Russian Federation
Sherrie sat patiently in the waiting area, her trained eye taking in everything with the innocent look of a wide-eyed naïve little girl. In reality, she was counting the number of armed guards, taking note of those who appeared bored or tired, where the exits were, what type of physical security was present—anything that might help her fulfill her task.
A task that just might get her killed.
She was using an American passport that would come back valid should anyone check—Langley was excellent at its job. Her cover story was well rehearsed and simple. She was here with her husband on their honeymoon, and as a surprise to him, she wanted to extend their trip and visit North Korea, a place that had always fascinated him.
She knew she’d be turned away, but by arriving only a few minutes before the Russians’ planned raid, that was irrelevant.
“Mrs. Ryan?”
She rose, smiling at the short, plain woman standing before her. “Yes. A pleasure to meet you,” she said, extending a hand.
The woman shook it firmly, a single pump, exactly how Sherrie suspected was taught at whatever military finishing school the woman had been sent to, handshaking not a common practice in Asian cultures.
“As my colleagues have informed you already, we aren’t issuing any travel visas to American citizens at this time.”
Sherrie clasped her hands under her chin. “Pleeease, is there any way you can make an exception? My husband has always been fascinated by your country, and I would love to surprise him with a trip there. There’s no embassy in Washington, and you’re my only hope.”
The woman didn’t appear moved, her face expressionless. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Ryan, but there are no exceptions.” She held a hand out, her arm extended toward the doors. “I’ll have to ask you to leave now.”
Sherrie’s shoulders slumped, and she delivered an Oscar-worthy pout. “He’s going to be sooo disappointed.”
“If it is a surprise, then simply don’t tell him of your failure. He will never know.” The woman’s voice was slightly softer in tone, and Sherrie smiled.
“You’re so right.” She threw her hands toward her feet. “I’m such an idiot sometimes.” She suddenly wrapped her arms around the woman and squeezed her tight before letting her go. “You’re so nice.”
The woman said nothing, too busy trying to remove the shocked expression from her face.
A commotion at the entrance caused them both to stare as someone in uniform rushed toward them, shouting something in Korean. Sherrie turned to the woman. “What’s happening?”
“You must leave, now!”
Colonel Park flinched at the sound of a loudspeaker. He rose from his chair and stepped over to the window, looking out at the street below.
And nearly soiled his pants.
Hundreds of Russian troops and police were surrounding the embassy, tanks, armored personnel carriers, and other heavy equipment rolling into position as embassy personnel scrambled inside the walls, clearly uncertain as to what to do.
There was a quick rap on the door behind him, and it opened before he could say anything. He glanced over his shoulder to see Tann hurrying toward him. “What’s going on?”
Tann pressed against the window beside him, pointing toward the gate. “They’re claiming the ambassador gave permission for them to enter the embassy and conduct a search for evidence related to the recent ransomware attack.”
Park watched as two Russian soldiers accompanied a man in a business suit to the gates. A paper was handed through the bars to one of the guards, who took it and promptly sprinted inside the building. Park cursed. “I find that impossible to believe. Where is the ambassador?”
“He is not in the building.”
“Find out what happened to him.”
“Yes, sir.” Tann headed out the door, and Park picked up the phone on his desk.
“Initiate Protocol J-Seven. I repeat, initiate Protocol J-Seven.”
“Yes, Colonel!”
An alarm sounded moments later, and Park sat in front of his computer. He double-clicked an icon then entered a code, initiating a complete wipe of his computer and any networked files it could access, similar actions being taken throughout the building. He unlocked all his desk drawers then rose and did the same with the filing cabinets as his secretary and several aides rushed in with large carts, immediately filling them with his files.
“Everything must be destroyed. Bureau 121 has priority on the shredders and incinerators.”
“Yes, Colonel!” cried his flustered secretary.
“Remain calm, everything will be fine. They won’t dare break international law.”
Gunfire erupted from outside, making a liar of him. He rushed to the window and peered out. A guard was down, two of his
comrades hauling him to safety as the thunder of helicopters sounded overhead. He twisted his head up and his heart hammered as at least a dozen Mil MI 24 Hind helicopters thundered past, weapons pods bristling.
The roar of a tank engine drew his attention back to the front gate, a burst of diesel exhaust filling the air as a massive T-80 tank surged toward the gate, shoving it aside like balsa wood.
Kane watched as the troops poured through the gates, automatic weapons fire filling the air as the North Koreans fought back valiantly but uselessly, the Russian’s numbers too overwhelming. This fight would be over quickly, then the Russians would have full access to the embassy staff and computers.
He had to act quickly.
As the Russians continued through the gates, he stepped from the shadows across the street, and walked with purpose toward the action. He wore the uniform of a major, high enough that few would question any action he took, but low enough that he wouldn’t be looked to for leadership.
He passed through the gates, unnoticed, the bodies of several North Korean guards scattered among at least a dozen dead or wounded Russians.
This is not going to go down well in Pyongyang.
Embassies were always hotbeds of international intrigue and espionage the world over. The Russians spied on the Americans, the Americans on the Chinese, the Chinese on the Russians. It was the way the game was played. Information gathering was what embassies did, consular services a secondary function.
The key was not being too obvious about it.
Or causing too much trouble.
Gathering information was one thing. Conducting cyberwarfare on the host country from within one’s embassy? That was crossing the line.
If it had happened in America, diplomatic credentials would have been revoked and people sent home. At worst, utilities might have been cut off in some “accident.” In Russia? Anything was game, including, apparently, kidnapping the North Korean ambassador and forcing him to give written permission to enter the embassy, thus not violating international law.
Retribution - A Special Agent Dylan Kane Thriller Book #7 Page 19