Kane would have preferred it if there was a mouse rather than a lion sitting next to them, as the news spread like wildfire throughout the plane, dozens leaving their seats to crowd around as their seatmate read the headlines.
Headlines that were terrifying.
Headlines that meant war.
Park exchanged a nervous glance with Tann as someone shouted out the news about their homeland. The Russians were attacking, but beyond that, the details were sketchy. Though not as powerful or advanced as the Americans, the Russians had the capability of targeting their attacks, or not.
The question was what was actually being hit.
He would hope it was only military targets and not civilian populations. But if utilities or factories were hit, it could mean prolonged hardship for his people, people already facing lives far tougher than they should.
I wonder if they’d dare target the Dear Leader.
If the Russians did, the results could be disastrous, depending on who took over. If enough of the leadership remained, and that leadership were members of the fanatical group surrounding the leader, then all-out war could be declared, and millions would die.
The Russians have to know that!
But it wouldn’t be millions of Russians. It would be few, if any. Most likely, the Russians were using missiles, putting little if any of their personnel at risk, and his country’s ability to strike back was range-limited. There was little within range that Russia prized besides the naval base at Vladivostok.
And what of the Americans? What would they do?
Or the Chinese?
North Korea had few friends beyond the crazies, and if the Chinese didn’t support his country, they were doomed.
And it was all his fault.
This was because of the embassy. Because of Bureau 121’s set-up there. It had been his idea to set up a branch inside the embassy, the grounds a perfect cover for their operations. Russia was already a hotbed of cybercrime, and a little more added to the mix would go unnoticed. Bandwidth into North Korea was so limited, no operations of any significance could be conducted from within.
But Moscow?
It was perfect.
And it had been perfect.
Until today.
The Russians had somehow found out about the operation, and because of how severely they had been impacted by the ransomware attack, had taken unprecedented action. His country had retaliated with a relatively harmless missile launch that had come uncomfortably close to the Russian Pacific Fleet, and the Russians had escalated.
If it had been anyone else, there would merely have been strong diplomatic condemnation.
But not with the Russians.
His homeland was under attack, and it was his fault. If he had never suggested Bureau 121 set up in Moscow, none of this would be happening.
He sighed. He was doomed. He could try to escape when they reached Tokyo, but if he did, his family would be immediately executed. This had always been made clear to him. Every North Korean knew this when they stepped across the border. It was the only way the government had of ensuring the return of its citizens.
The only hope his family had was for him to return home and face the consequences.
Assuming there would be a home to return to.
64
Tokyo Narita Airport
Chiba Prefecture, Japan
Kane hung back in the line with Sherrie, Park and Tann visible ahead. The airport was slammed, what with so many flights diverted from South Korea, though the Japanese were handling things fairly well—better than the visibly frustrated passengers. Too many didn’t know why they had been diverted, but once they found out, tears and fear abounded.
He didn’t blame them. Most of these people were South Korean, and they knew full well the dangers of a rattled North Korea. As they waited to clear customs, their seatmate, several paces in front of them, continued to give updates.
“It looks like North Korea is getting pounded by the Russians. Just military sites, apparently.”
Kane glanced at Sherrie, saying nothing. If the Russians stuck to military targets, then things might not escalate if they took it easy on them. A proportional response might be tolerated by the North Koreans. After all, they had launched a rocket over Russian territory, and it had almost hit one of their ships.
But keep pounding them, they might wonder when it would stop, and if they had any doubt it might not, a further response from Pyongyang might become necessary.
And that was when war could break out.
“Have they attacked South Korea yet?” asked somebody, the woman’s voice quavering, her accent thick.
“No. The American President apparently issued a statement condemning the Russian attack, but told the North Koreans that if they attacked any American or ally target, he’d immediately respond with nukes.”
Kane’s chest tightened. Strong rhetoric like that might work with most leaders, but how the North Koreans would respond was anyone’s guess. The advantage the rest of the world had was that the Dear Leader had no desire to die.
His life was too good.
If he knew he’d absolutely die, one had to think he’d back off.
“Has the Dear Psycho responded?” asked another.
“No. According to CNN, there’s been no reaction by the North Koreans except the normal insanity that they usually broadcast. It’s as if they’re ignoring the attack.”
Kane smiled slightly. That made sense. If the Russians were sticking to military targets away from population centers, then the North Korean public might have no clue what was actually happening. And if things could remain that way, the Dear Leader could pretend it had never happened, saving face, and was probably delusional enough to think the world would eventually come to believe the same.
It might just head off a war.
Why go to war over something that never happened?
Kane and Sherrie cleared customs with no problem, Park and Tann only minutes ahead of them with only one direction to go. They hurried toward the exit when a man approached them.
“Excuse me!”
Kane looked at the man holding out a cellphone. “Yes?”
The man gasped, out of breath. “Thank God I caught you.” He handed Kane the phone. “You left this on the plane.”
Kane sighed, kissing the phone. “Thanks, man! I don’t know what I’d do without this baby!”
The man grinned. “I know how you feel! Enjoy Tokyo!” He disappeared into the crowd, dragging a carry-on.
The phone vibrated in Kane’s hand and he swiped his thumb. “Yes?”
“Leave Park alone, your job is done.”
Kane frowned at Leroux’s voice as he spotted Park about to exit the terminal. “Are you sure? He could be able to name every mole they’ve placed.”
“Washington doesn’t want to risk any further provocations.”
It made sense. If the North Koreans were playing possum right now, taking their beating like most schoolyard bullies eventually received, capturing one of their agents connected to the entire mess could inflame things. He sighed. “Understood. We’ll head home as soon as possible.”
“Negative. The Director wants you to wait twenty-four hours, just in case.”
“Copy that. Should we keep Park under surveillance?”
“Negative. Let him go. If you’re made, there could be consequences.”
“Yeah, well, we were already made, so it’s probably a good thing you’re calling it off.”
“What happened?”
“I’ll let you know in the debrief.”
“Copy that. We’ve got a hotel arranged for you. Details have been sent to the phone. Two rooms.”
Kane grinned. “What? Don’t trust me?”
“Not for a second.”
Kane laughed, ending the call before stuffing the phone in his pocket.
“What’s up?” asked Sherrie as they cleared the doors, stepping into the fresh air.
“Op is off. We’r
e letting him go. Washington doesn’t want to risk provoking Pyongyang.”
Sherrie frowned as Park stepped into a waiting car with Tann. “That’s too bad. I’ll go get us some tickets.”
Kane shook his head. “Nope. We’ve been given an extra day here in case things changed.” His eyebrows bobbed suggestively at her. “I can think of some ways to kill a day in Tokyo. We never did get that honeymoon.”
Sherrie laughed. “You’re incorrigible!”
Park glanced over his shoulder as he climbed into the car sent to collect them, and his heart slammed. It was the woman again, not fifty feet from where he sat. There was no doubt now that she was following him. She and the other man were definitely spies, probably American, and absolutely after him.
And he couldn’t let them succeed.
If Americans kidnapped him, his family would certainly be killed. Pyongyang would assume he was a double agent and had been extracted by the Americans for a debriefing.
He had to stop them, he had to get home.
He turned to the driver. “Are you armed?”
“Yes.”
“Give me your weapon. Now!”
“Sir?”
“Now! That’s an order!”
The driver retrieved a handgun from a shoulder holster, then handed it back. Park pushed Tann aside and shoved the barrel into the sunlight.
And fired.
Kane spotted the barrel of a weapon emerge from the darkness of the car’s interior, and shoved Sherrie to the side as he dove in the opposite direction. A gunshot rang out, followed by two more, as Kane rolled to the left then to his feet. He grabbed the submachine gun from a stunned Japanese guard, and aimed at the car as it pulled away, Tann diving in before the rear door slammed shut.
Kane squeezed the trigger, emptying the magazine into the rear of the car to no effect, the skin probably armored. He shoved the confused guard to the ground while Sherrie sprinted into the road, forcing a cab to a stop. Before the driver could react, Sherrie had yanked open his door and hauled him to the pavement before hopping inside. Kane grabbed a handgun off the guard as others rushed toward them. He sprinted for the cab, jumping inside the right-hand drive vehicle.
Sherrie hammered on the gas as alarms sounded. Kane rolled down the window, checking the weapon as Sherrie closed the gap with the North Koreans. She stole a glance at Kane.
“Should we be doing this?”
Kane looked at her. “Huh?”
“I mean, we’ve been ordered to let him go.”
Kane grinned. “You’re the one driving.”
“I’m operating on adrenaline and instinct. You’re the seasoned agent. What the hell do I do!”
Park slid to the far side of the seat, his heart hammering as Tann picked himself up off the floor, taking a seat beside his superior officer.
“What was that all about?”
Park turned, staring out the rear window, a cab driving erratically behind them, this clearly not over. “She’s been following us since Moscow.”
“What?”
“She bumped into me yesterday morning before I arrived at the embassy, then I saw her on the plane.”
“That woman who spoke to you?”
“Yes.”
“If she was a spy, why would she admit to having seen you earlier?”
“She knew she had been made, so she did what was necessary to salvage her mission.”
“Which is?”
“To capture me, obviously.”
Tann frowned. “For all you know, they could be tourists.”
Park glared at him. “Haven’t you been paying attention? Would tourists return fire?”
Tann’s jaw dropped slightly. “Umm, you’re right, of course. What are we going to do?”
“We need to lose them.” Park turned to the driver. “Can you?”
“We will. I’ve called for backup.”
“Good. ETA?”
“Three minutes.”
Park sighed, leaning back in the seat as the driver continued to swerve back and forth through the traffic of the loading zone.
“We heard there was trouble at home,” said Tann, leaning forward. “Is there any news?”
“I’m not authorized to brief you,” replied the driver. He looked in the rearview mirror at Park. “All I can say, Colonel, is that they are not pleased with you.”
Park’s cheeks flushed, and his heart hammered at the implications of what was just said. For the driver to say such a thing, a junior officer at best, he had to feel confident enough there would be no consequences. And that meant Park truly was in trouble.
He was already dead.
He thought of his wife and children. He hadn’t seen them in years, and he was desperate to see them one last time, just to tell them he loved them, and to hold them in his arms before saying goodbye.
But he wouldn’t be given that chance.
He knew that now.
He had failed the Dear Leader.
And there was no coming back from that.
“I understand.”
He held the gun to his head and squeezed the trigger.
Sherrie locked up the brakes as a body was dumped from the car ahead of them. Kane gripped the dash, narrowly avoiding his head slamming into the unforgiving surface as they came to a halt. He jumped out and rushed toward the body, flipping it over.
It was Park.
“What the hell happened?” asked Sherrie as she rushed up beside him, a crowd gathering. “Did they kill him?”
Kane shook his head, pointing at the head wound. “No, this is self-inflicted. He shot himself.”
“Why? They still could have gotten away.”
“He knew what was coming.” Kane stuffed the weapon he had taken from the guard, under the body. “Come on, let’s get the hell out of here.” He took Sherrie by the arm, pulling her into the crowd as police converged on the area. Spotting a cab dropping off a pair of passengers, he hauled Sherrie silently through the throng, beating out what appeared to be a husband and wife.
“Hey, that’s our cab!” cried the man in the Queen’s English.
“Sorry, too slow,” replied Kane in Russian as Sherrie slammed the door shut.
“Those bloody Russians! So rude!”
The cab pulled away, Kane dialing for extraction instructions.
There’d be no 24-hour layover in Tokyo now.
65
El Camino Hospital
Mountain View, California
The sounds of machines beeping and droning, of voices in the background whispering, slowly drew Temple out of the deep sleep he had been in. He blinked, everything a blur, all he was aware of at first the fact he was lying on his back, and someone was holding his hand.
He turned to see a dark shadow leaning over him. At first, fear commanded him, his mind filled with the last images he could remember.
The hostage exchange gone terribly wrong.
“Tanya!”
He bolted upright, immediately regretting it as pain racked his shoulder, surging through his entire body.
“It’s okay, I’m here.”
The room snapped into focus, and he sighed as he sank back onto the bed, Davis at his side, holding his hand.
“You’re okay?”
She smiled. “Thanks to you.” She glanced toward the other end of the room. “And him.”
Temple looked over to see Simmons standing in the doorway.
“Mr. Temple, how are you feeling?”
Temple shrugged and gasped. “I’ll live, I think.”
Davis smiled, patting his hand. “You’re going to be just fine.”
Simmons stepped over to the bed. “So you’re good enough to remember what I’m about to say?”
Temple eyed him. “Yes. What’s this all about?”
“My name isn’t Simmons. I’m with the United States government.”
Temple frowned. “Penn said the same thing before they shot him.” He glanced at Davis, his heart hammering. “I don’t unde
rstand. What’s going on?”
She shook her head. “You better listen to what he has to say.”
Simmons stepped closer. “Your late security chief called us in when he found out what you wanted to do.”
“That bast—”
Simmons raised a finger. “Shut the hell up and listen!”
Temple shut up, genuine fear gripping him, the man he had hired appearing very intimidating now that he was no longer on his side.
“Only a handful of people outside of this room know what you did. With what has happened over the past few days around the world, the last thing we need is the truth about your involvement getting out. It will just muddy the waters.”
Temple’s eyes narrowed. “Why? What’s happened?”
Simmons motioned toward Davis. “She’ll explain it to you.” He leaned in closer. “But here’s how it’s going to go down. You never hired anyone. You had your tech teams try to track down who was involved, with the intention of handing that data over to the FBI to take action. Miss Davis here has already disbanded the team and handed over everything they’ve found. As far as you are concerned, this is over, you were never involved, and you never met me. Understood?”
Temple nodded, then gestured at Davis. “But what about her? She was kidnapped. How do we cover that up?”
“We don’t. She was kidnapped by hackers pissed off at your press conference. She was rescued and the perpetrators killed. Case closed.” Simmons leaned over him and pressed a finger on his wound, a hint harder than gently. “Consider yourself lucky, Mr. Temple. You should be in prison for what you did, but instead, you just got away with murder.” Simmons lifted the finger and Temple sighed with relief.
“I understand. Thank you.” He reached out and grabbed Simmons by the arm. “But they’re dead, right? Those responsible?”
“That’s no longer your concern.”
Simmons pulled his arm free and left the room. Temple stared after him then sank into the bedding, finally realizing how tense he was. He turned to Davis. “You’re going to have to explain to me what the hell is going on.”
She smiled, squeezing his hand. “Later. All that matters now is that you get healthy.”
Retribution - A Special Agent Dylan Kane Thriller Book #7 Page 22