“That very man and his team are in China at this moment recovering the artifact we just spoke of, Senator. And yes, he and his men are the best at what they do. They always succeed,” Niles said proudly.
SHANGHAI, CHINA
The small Chinese man in the white silk suit with the radiant blue shirt and tie, slapped the bound man before him again. With his hands tied behind him in the high-backed chair, there wasn’t anything Colonel Jack Collins could do to defend himself. He felt the effeminate hand scrape across his two-day growth of beard but managed to keep his anger in check. Usually he would just wait it out, knowing his second in command would be along to pull his ass out of the fire. But this time he thought there may be a problem with that scenario.
The small, well-dressed Chinese took two steps to his left and then used his backhand to slap the large man sitting to Jack’s right across the face. Commander Carl Everett was bound just as snugly as Collins, and couldn’t do anything other than hiss his anger through clenched teeth.
“You know, I’m going to slap you into unconsciousness when I get loose,” Everett said as he glared at the small man before him.
“You fool, as arrogant as most Americans. You will not be leaving this house. You will tell me where the urn is and just who it is you work for.”
Jack smiled as the small man took his place in front of him once again.
“Why is it you think I’m his boss? You’ve slapped me five or six times more than him. He just might be the one in charge, not me.”
The Chinese army officer smiled and then slapped Jack again. “Your friend is too angry to be in charge of anything as important as stealing a national treasure from my government, so that leaves you.” The man held his hand out and one of his goons slid a file into it. He smiled again at Jack, and then at Carl, as he opened the file folder.
“Colonel Jack Collins, it says you are an elite special forces operative. I have no listing for current assignment.” He turned his attention to Everett. “Captain Carl C. Everett, United States navy, a former SEAL, his current duty station also unknown. I believe you are nothing more than thieves, ordered by your government to embarrass the People’s Republic of China. This is why you will not leave here alive, gentlemen. So please, make your death quick and painless, and give us the location of the urn in which the ashes of General Dae Jo Yeong are stored.”
Jack glanced over at Everett and shook his head. “Persistent little son of a bitch, isn’t he?”
Everett looked away from Jack and stared at the small, menacing man before him.
“Yeah, persistent.”
“Look, whoever you are, you may as well get on with what you’re going to do, because my two men are long gone out of this country with the urn and the general. They’re under orders to get out with the artifact and not look back.”
“And your men always follow your orders?”
“They are highly trained and would do their duty above all else. So, do what you have to do,” Collins said as he almost had the knot of rope loose enough to get his hands free.
“That’s right, pal, our men do as they’re told,” Everett chimed in as he, too, worked the rope around his own wrists. “They’re probably drinking mai tais in Hong Kong by now.”
At that moment, the door to the front of the apartment came crashing in. Second Lieutenant Will Mendenhall fell through onto the floor and two men were on him before he could recover. As two of their guards lifted the stunned black officer off the carpeted floor, one of them hit him over the head. Mendenhall staggered but was held upright by the two men.
Collins looked at Everett and angrily shook his head. “Mai tais, huh?”
While two of the guards held Mendenhall to the floor, the man on the left suddenly jerked backward after the initial crash of glass sounded from the side window. The bullet that struck the stunned man had whistled only a foot over Jack’s head. Collins reacted without thinking when he saw the first man go down. He rolled to his right, taking the chair with him until it struck the one in which Everett was bound to. They both hit the floor just as a second bullet came through the side window and took the second man in the side of the forehead. He fell hard onto Will and died only inches from his face.
The Chinese interrogator had a brief moment of life and drew the hidden sidearm inside of his white coat. That was as far as his movement went as a third aimed bullet struck him in the chest, splattering blood all over the silk. For insurance, a second round caught the man in the throat, dropping him like a heavy sack of potatoes.
Jack was silent, waiting for what he knew was coming.
“Clear?”
Collins moved his face upward and shouted as loud as he could so there could be no mistake as he didn’t want any more bullets flying into the small living room. “Clear!”
“Clear,” Mendenhall echoed.
Suddenly, the remaining glass was knocked out of its frame and the curtain at the side window parted. A Glock nine-millimeter with a long silencer appeared. It roamed first to the right and then to the left. Then it remained steady as Lieutenant Jason Ryan gingerly stepped over the windowsill and jumped into the room, his weapon still sweeping the area of the living room.
“You’re a little late!” Mendenhall said pushing the dead guard off of him and swiping at the blood that was staining his Hawaiian shirt. “You were supposed to open fire when I broke the door in, I thought these guys were going to blow my brains out!”
Ryan finally stood and ran to the opening of the hallway and aimed the weapon down its length. Satisfied the hallway was empty, he raised the weapon to the ceiling and then turned back into the room.
“Well, the safety was on—”
“And you forgot to chamber a round, didn’t you?” Mendenhall said as he got to his feet.
“Yeah, I said you should be the one doing the shooting.”
“And who was going to break down the door with one attempt, you? All one hundred and forty pounds of navy officer?” Mendenhall said with a sneer while staring at Ryan.
“Uh, if you wouldn’t mind?” Everett said from the floor.
Both Mendenhall and Ryan saw that the full weight of Collins and his chair was on top of Everett, and they both moved quickly to get them upright.
“You two were supposed to be on that damn boat out of here,” Jack said as his hands were finally untied.
“Yes, sir, and you were supposed to lose those three and then meet us there,” Ryan said in defense.
“Mr. Ryan, we were just about to make our move. You took a chance on letting those guys get their hands on that urn,” Carl said as he finally gained his feet, rubbing at the rope impressions on his wrists.
“Excuse me, Captain, but through the crack in those curtains it looked as if you were having a little trouble getting those knots undone. Maybe your basic seamanship is lacking.”
Everett stopped rubbing his wrists and fixed the younger naval officer with his cold eyes.
“Keep going, Mr. Ryan, you’re already at a year’s worth of weekend graveyard shifts at the complex for this little stunt; do you wanna try for two?”
“We just couldn’t leave you guys here . . . sir,” Mendenhall said.
Jack started to say something but Everett grabbed his arm, silencing his boss and then looking at Will.
“It was his idea,” Mendenhall said quickly as he pointed at Ryan.
“Thanks, buddy,” Ryan said tossing the rope that had held Collins to his chair into the corner.
“You can both commiserate with each other during your cancellation of leaves for that year that you’re pulling weekend midnight duty,” Carl finished. Then he looked at Jack. “Damn the military for abolishing hanging.”
“I absolutely agree. Now, since Batman and the Boy Wonder came to our rescue, let’s get the hell out of China.”
Colonel Jack Collins watched as Mendenhall and Ryan were pushed to the front door by an angry Carl Everett. As he started to follow, the smile slowly spread across his face. His
two men had finally learned to think out of the box, to adapt to that fluid situation that he always preached about to his security department. Although they disobeyed orders, Jack knew it was a good thing they did because if they hadn’t, there would two bodies lying dead in that living room instead of three.
EVENT GROUP COMPLEX
NELLIS AIR FORCE BASE, NEVADA
TWO WEEKS LATER
The director of Department 5656, Director Niles Compton, watched as the presentation was given to him by the historical forensics team. He sat with his shirtsleeves rolled to the elbow and his glasses perched on the end of his nose as he looked over the tops of the lenses. His eyes moved over the assembled department heads who sat around the large conference table situated on level seven.
“So, in conclusion, Director Compton, it is our opinion that when Kim Jong Il passes away, there will be the narrowest of opportunities to approach his successor, most probably his youngest son, Kim Jong-Un, about dropping the disastrous policies of his nation. We had this opportunity when Kim’s father died, and the U.S. government missed it by having a hardened Cold War stance against those very policies. The president may be able to move the younger leader to see the terrible actions of his father and grandfather.” Professor Geraldine Kinkaid looked at her notes and then up at her director. “Our recommendation is for the president to have a softened position in the initial stages of the North Korean power transfer. Historically speaking, the Korean people have a tendency to listen soon after a leadership change.”
Niles Compton nodded his head and then looked around the table. He saw the empty chair where Colonel Jack Collins usually sat at the far end opposite himself. The colonel’s initials were on the proposed report as approving the research and the gentler approach to North Korea at the eventual death of Kim Jong Il, although he did enter his own thoughts in regards to a possible coup opportunity coming from Kim’s older son, Kim Jong-Chul, who Jack’s military experience says may not take the succession rebuke lying down. But with the historical artifact returned to the North Korean people instead of the United States ally in Seoul, the door may be opened for better relations, thanks to Jack and his men.
“This report, if the president uses it, will cause some consternation in certain circles of the federal government,” Virginia Pollock said from her seat to the right of Compton. “We have a history of close to seventy years of unrelenting hostility between North Korea and the West. I would like to ask our resident military people their opinion of this report other than what’s officially stated. Will our eventual gift to that nation assist in getting us to the peace table, or would the president be wasting his time?”
Captain Carl Everett looked up from his notes. As the number-two man in the security department, it was now up to him to answer for Jack Collins. They had both put in over a hundred hours on the military aspect of extending a helping hand to Korea after the crazy Kim Jong Il passed, and that included the time they put in stealing the previously stolen artifact from the Chinese. Everett stood and opened a file on the table in front of him. The six-foot-five-inch navy SEAL cleared his throat.
“Based purely on our research, and with a small amount of personal opinion interjected, the military has always been adamant about ending this destructive relationship with North Korea as quickly as humanly possible. The drain in resources, men, and material, has the U.S. army and navy at the breaking point. We can no longer afford the cold and sometimes hot war that has existed between the United States and North Korea since the peace accords of 1953. The general public has always believed the Pentagon wanted troops stationed along the demilitarized zone, but the truth of the matter is no military think tank in the world has ever recommended the status-quo along the 38th Parallel.” Everett paused a brief moment and looked at the faces around the conference table. “We feel it has always been a knife placed at the throat of a very distrustful and militaristic government who could use our presence there to lash out at the South. As proven by the recent activities by Kim Jong I, we cannot resupply or even support the thirty-six thousand troops already there. They would be used as cannon fodder in the event of an invasion, only until such a time as tactical nuclear weapons release could be authorized by the South, and NATO. We think after the death of Kim, we need to get ahold of this situation as, historically speaking, they will be listening to the West. We need to take advantage of this strategic time, or our attempts at gift giving will look foolish.”
Everett sat down. He looked at everyone around the table once more. They seemed to have taken the military view with a mild form of shock. To Everett, that was a common error by civilians as far as their view of the U.S. military went: they always believed military men wanted to fight, when most only wanted peace, but a safe one through strength, making war a last-ditch thing. Civilians order war, not the American military.
“Thank you, Captain, that was enlightening to say the least, and should put a more positive slant to our report to the president along with our idea to pave the way utilizing the return of their thousand-year-old general,” Niles said. “I will sign this report and our idea and pass it on to the president as Department 5656’s official recommendation on the historical advantage of taking action. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. If there is nothing else, I think we can—”
“Niles, is there a new time frame for us getting back into field operations?” Virginia Pollock asked, knowing that every department head around the table wanted to know the same thing.
Compton pursed his lips and ran a hand through his balding scalp.
“No, we’re still at seventy-five percent as far as personnel goes, and the curtailment of university digs is still in effect for the time being because of the tense international situation. So, no, we will not be fielding any departmental teams for at least one to three months. I’m sorry. For now, recruitment of personnel and training is the order of the day. Get your people up to date on their classroom studies and get some of these kids their degrees—we’ll need new supervisors in a lot of departments very soon. We have placated our new friend at Ways and Means, but he’ll be watching us pretty close for a while.”
With those words from the director, the meeting broke up. Niles could tell the department heads were frustrated about not being able to commence field operations, but there was nothing he could do about it. They needed rebuilding.
“Captain Everett, may I have a moment of your time, please?” Niles said while he stacked his notes and reports.
Everett nodded at Virginia as she walked past, then continued to hold the large door open for Sarah McIntire, the head of the geology division.
“You, too, Lieutenant McIntire. Please take a seat,” Niles said as he finally looked up from the conference table. He removed his glasses and tossed them on the tabletop and then sat heavily into his chair while Carl and Sarah sat down toward the middle of the table.
“I would have expected Jack to give the report on the military aspects of our recommendations,” Niles said as he rubbed his eyes.
Sarah McIntire chanced a quick look over at Everett, whose eyes remained on the director.
“Well, boss, Jack assigned me to do the historical military portion of the report, so he thought it would be preferable for me to attend the final meeting.”
“I see.” Niles replaced his glasses and then looked over at Sarah, who was feeling even smaller than her diminutive frame under the glare of the director. She returned his look as a smile that only touched the very corners of Niles’s mouth appeared. “How about you, Lieutenant, have you noticed anything out of the ordinary where Colonel Collins is concerned?” The smile remained in place.
Sarah looked from Compton to Everett, and then made a decision. “Yes, sir, I have. Jack’s been acting differently about a lot of things, more secretive. Something is on his mind but he won’t say what it is.”
Niles didn’t respond to Sarah’s observation.
“And neither one of you knows why Jack went to Langley, Virginia, and the
n visited the National Archives building in Washington last week?”
Both Sarah and Carl exchanged looks and Niles saw that they really hadn’t known Jack had left the complex.
“Do you have any idea where Jack is right now?” he asked looking from Carl to Sarah.
When no answer came to his query, Niles leaned forward in his chair. “Well, he’s in the same place he’s been every day since his return from China, and frankly, it’s worrying me.”
LEVEL SEVENTY-SEVEN
(VAULT AREA)
Jack sat inside the large humidified vault and hadn’t moved for the past hour. His eyes roamed over the acrylic box that sat high on an aluminum pedestal before him. The brass hoses that ran into the corners of the enclosure were there to feed cool air and humidity into the chamber to keep its contents at a perfect and airless 72 degrees Fahrenheit. On the side of the vault’s wall, a recorded description of the artifact ran silently since Jack had lowered the sound on the computer-driven description. On the large high-definition screen that was not being watched by Collins was the historical film record of Amelia Earhart. Before him in the acrylic chamber were the remains of the lost aviatrix. Still dressed in a tattered, age-worn, tan flight suit, her skeletal remains lay silently as Jack watched her from a chair just to the redheaded woman’s left side.
The remains of Amelia Earhart had been shown to Jack on his initial day inside the Event Group Complex in order to sell him on the importance of the top-secret agency. Collins had been impressed with the story behind the discovery of her remains on a former Japanese-held island in the Pacific, but had thought that was as far as it had went. Only lately had the tale of her execution been on his mind. The female aviator had been executed by the Japanese military after she had been forced down over one of their Pacific bases before the start of World War II. Accused of being a spy for President Roosevelt, she and her navigator, Fred Noonan, were both beheaded and buried, to be forever lost and assumed dead by misadventure and faulty navigation.
Primeval: An Event Group Thriller Page 8