Red Ice

by Craig Reed Jr

  #

  11:39am

  Oceanic Flight 674, en route from Dallas/Fort Worth to San Francisco, was making its final approach to San Francisco International. The pilot noticed the thick black smoke cloud on the Golden Gate Bridge in the distance and reported it to the air control tower.

  The Boeing 747-400 crossed over the San Mateo Bridge at eighteen hundred feet, five miles out from Runway 28R. The aircraft continued descending, everything textbook…

  …until three North Koreans in a boat just offshore fired two anti-aircraft missiles.

  #

  11:41am

  The anti-aircraft missiles the North Koreans fired at the descending aircraft were 9K38 Igla, the successor to the older Strela-3 man-portable air defense system. Known in the west as the SA-16 Gimlet, the Igla (Russian for “Needle”) was similar in warhead size to the Strela-3, but had a longer range and was much quicker than its predecessor. The result was that both missiles covered the distance between boat and aircraft in a little over six seconds.

  The first missile struck the starboard wing between the two GE CF6-80C2 engines, shearing off more than half the wing and the outside engine, while sending shrapnel into the inside engine, causing it to explode. The second missile struck a fraction of a second later, ripping into the 747’s underbelly near the tail and sealing the plane’s fate. The 747 turned over and fell nose-first into the bay less than two miles from the end of the runway.

  388 people died in the crash.

  The three Special Forces operators immediately sped across the bay at wide open throttle. They cruised into a cove not far from Hayward, abandoned the boat and climbed into a waiting car. Ten minutes after that, they were driving into Oakland.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Chinatown, San Francisco

  11:47am

  Tanner picked up his phone and was greeted with an urgent-sounding voice.

  “Where are you?” Casey asked without preamble.

  “Chinatown, three blocks away from the target. What’s wrong?”

  “We just had a shitload of hell roll into town, courtesy of Rhee and his men.”

  Tanner straightened in his seat, instantly alert. “What happened?”

  “Simultaneous attacks on the Golden Gate, BART and San Francisco International in the last ten minutes. The body count at the airport alone is already in the triple digits.”

  “Do you want us to abort?”

  “No. Rhee’s your only concern.”

  Tanner glanced at the rest of the team. Dante was driving and the others were in the cargo bay. Like Tanner, they were dressed in dark blue jumpsuits, and the cargo bay was filled with painting equipment. “Understood.”

  “If the investigation finds anything that pertains to Rhee and his people, we’ll pass it along.”

  “All right. Where are you?”

  “Still at the hotel. I’ve ordered the federal offices here in the city to give any help the city needs, but otherwise, I’m staying out of the way. Relations between the city and D.C. are not the best, and they don’t want me looking over their shoulder. If they need me, they’ll call. Otherwise, I’ll monitor the situation from here.”

  “Right. Keep us informed.”

  “You know I will. Bye.”

  “What’s wrong?” Dante asked.

  Tanner told them. Liam scowled. “There could be other attacks happening.”

  “We have no idea when or if they’re going to happen,” Tanner said. “Right now, we have a clear mission. Let’s stick with that instead of chasing after an enemy we have no intel on.”

  “I know,” Liam said sourly. “Doesn’t mean I like it.”

  “Neither do I.”

  #

  Nob Hill, San Francisco

  11:48am

  The lobby of the Trans-Continental Marsh Hotel was large, stylish and displayed the luxury that awaited the guest. As the highest-end hotel in the city, its clientele were among the richest and most politically connected people on the planet.

  To Seonwoo, it was an example of the corruption that infested the west. Hidden behind designer sunglasses, his eyes scanned the lobby, looking to pinpoint potential threats such as security cameras and guards. He noted three men in the lobby who were armed, and several well-placed security cameras. The Americans pretended to take security seriously, but to Seonwoo it was a joke.

  For the past four hours, members of Seonwoo’s unit had been drifting into the hotel in ones and twos. Most headed up to the world-renowned restaurant at the top of the hotel and had breakfast, in perfect position to see the explosions on the Golden Gate. Taking it as a signal, they had hurriedly paid and left. Instead of going down to the lobby, the soldiers descended to the seventeenth floor, where two members of the unit had rented a room. They were now preparing for the mission.

  Seonwoo leisurely headed toward the elevators. The business suit he wore was high-end, as were the shoes and the briefcase he carried. No one noticed him as he walked through the lobby, one of a dozen people coming and going.

  Three other passengers occupied the elevator, a pair of businessmen and a woman wearing a dress that ended above the knee. In Saenwoo’s worldview, the businessmen were parasites, feeding on the world’s downtrodden masses, while the woman was a whore, prostituting herself for wealth. He was confident he could kill all three without effort.

  Keeping his sunglasses on and his face impassive, he looked around the elevator car. The elevator was all dark paneling, with recessed lighting and soft music from hidden speakers. He noticed the obvious security camera in the corner, but after more surveillance, he spotted a second camera in a less obvious location among the recessed lights. The elevator’s control panel wasn’t much different than any other one Seonwoo had seen before, only the brass plate was polished to a high sheen and the lights were all lit, except for the target floor. The only other slightly unusual thing was the card reader attached to the control panel.

  The whore got off on the tenth floor while the businessmen left on the twelfth. Now alone, Seonwoo stared at the control panel, memorizing the security system. To access the target floor, a magnetic card would have to be run through the reader in order to activate that floor’s button. The number of cards in use at any one time was limited, issued by the hotel security office, and limited to two days before the cards became deactivated and had to be replaced.

  Seonwoo exited the elevator on the seventeenth and studied the hall for a few seconds before he headed for the room. Despite being alone in the hall, he was alert for trouble. The enemy was dangerous; it would not be beyond them to have eyes everywhere.

  He reached the room and rapped a coded knock on the door. It opened to the width of the security chain and Seonwoo could see an eye and half a head.

  “One moment, sir,” a man said softly in Korean. After hearing the chain lock being removed, the door opened all the way. The doorman, Ryeon Seung-won, stepped back, beckoning for Seonwoo to come in.

  “Everyone here?” Seonwoo asked in Korean as he walked past Ryeon.

  “Yes sir,” Ryeon replied.

  The room seemed smaller with ten soldiers in it, even more so when they all stood and came to attention. Seonwoo motioned for them to be at ease.

  The room was larger than Seonwoo’s own quarters back in North Korea, but still smaller than the suite they would be attacking. The double beds had weapons lain on them; one bed supported a mix of VZ-61 Skorpion machine pistols, MAC-10s, Uzis, and a pair of AR-15s, The pistols on the other bed were also a mixed bag — S&W Model 39s, Colt M1911A1s, Browning Hi-Powers and a single Desert Eagle. There was also a pair of Russian-made KS-23 shotguns, along with a dozen grenades and magazines for the different weapons.

  Seonwoo glanced around the room for a moment, gauging his men’s mood, then turned to Yoon Kwang-ho. “Do you have the floor plans?”

  The sergeant nodded and motioned toward a man sitting in front of a laptop at the desk. “Yuh has them.”

  Seonwoo walked over to
Yuh. “Let me see.”

  Yuh, one of a group of North Korean Special Forces soldiers trained by the Chinese in computer hacking, turned the laptop so his commander could see the screen. Seonwoo studied the floor plans for a couple of minutes, then said, “What about security access?”

  “Already taken care of. I cracked the network and gained access to the elevator and stairwell security systems.” He motioned to a pair of cards with magnetic strips lying next to the laptop. “They’ve been programmed with the right security code. We are lucky — the codes are to be changed later today.”

  “What about the security cameras?”

  “I can kill them anytime you want, as well as jam all the phones and cell phone signals on the top five floors.”

  “Good.” He looked around the room at his men before reaching into a pocket and pulling out a strip of paper with skin patches on them. “The major has ordered all of us to wear one of these.”

  “What is it?” Yoon asked the question on all of their minds.

  “It’s a drug to help you fight better. It has been decided that you will be the first Democratic People’s Republic troops to use this in battle. It has already been tested by others, and now it is our turn. You will love it. I use it myself.” Seonwoo pulled a patch from the strip and stuck it to his wrist before passing the paper to Yoon.

  “Everyone take one.”

  After the patches had been passed out, Seonwoo glanced at his watch and addressed his men. “The target is to be taken alive if possible. If not, we are to kill him. Everyone else on the floor is to be killed on sight. Let’s go.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Chinatown, San Francisco

  11:52am

  The dark blue van painted with the logo of a commercial painting company moved at a leisurely pace. The street on which it traveled was narrow and one-way, with four and five-story buildings on either side, giving it an enclosed feeling. Most of the ground floors were businesses, with colorful signs in both Chinese and English. Traffic was heavy, both vehicle and pedestrian, most people not knowing what was happening only a few miles away. Here, there was no sign the city was under attack.

  “There’s Waverly.” Tanner motioned to the street coming up on the left. “The entry should be … right there!” He pointed at a red sign with golden Chinese lettering past Waverly, on the same side of the street. He frowned when he saw two people standing there, one standing in an open parking space in front of the building, the other standing on the sidewalk. “Vessler?”

  Choi, who stood in the empty parking space, stepped up onto the sidewalk, allowing the van to take the spot. Tanner climbed out, mindful of the traffic, and went around the front of the van. Vessler met him. “What are you doing here?”

  “We lucked out. Bill Derer had to cut his vacation short because a case he’s lead on got rescheduled and the prosecutor wanted a meet today.” She exhaled slowly. “Good news, for once.”

  “Not so good,” Tanner replied. He told her about what Casey had relayed.

  Vessler’s face darkened. “Son of a bitch!” she hissed.

  “Later,” Tanner said sharply. “We have something to do.”

  “Top floor.”

  Liam, who had climbed out of the van heard Vessler and looked up. “At the top?” he said. “Is there an elevator?”

  “Nope,” Vessler replied with an evil grin, then her expression faded into grim determination. “We’d better get moving. We’ve already spotted a couple of the Triad’s senior leadership heading into the restaurant. The meet is on.”

  “All right, people!’ Tanner called out loudly. “The sooner we get this painted the sooner we get paid. Move it!”

  They unloaded the painting supplies and carried them inside, up five flights of stairs. Vessler led the way, unlocking the door to an office that had East-Asian Imports, LTD painted on the glass door. The paint was fading and the door was worn and scuffed from years of use.

  The inside was just as faded and worn as the door. Liam looked around. “Very 1940s.”

  A wooden desk sat facing the door. Several chairs were off to one side against a wall and a few filing cabinets lined the opposite wall. Some framed thrift shop oil paintings hung on the walls along with a map of the city that was four decades out of date. A wooden door marked “Private” sat opposite the glass door. A single window on the right wall let in enough light to see by. A fine layer of dust covered everything, adding to the room’s overall feel of disuse.

  Dante, the last one in, closed the door behind him. “Nice place. Doesn’t look like it does a lot of business, though.”

  “It’s a DEA front operation,” Choi explained. “We use it once in a while for undercover operations and for meetings with undercover agents or confidential informants who need a face-to-face. It’s cheaper to pay the rent then it is to scramble for a temporary office set up. We’re just lucky we happen to have this one so close to the meeting point.”

  “I’m surprised you never used this place to listen in on Hong’s conversations.”

  “Eavesdropping warrants are even harder to get. And even if we get one, there are other problems. First, it’s almost impossible to plant the devices — we’re certain there are Triad gunmen on the premises twenty-four seven, and there’s no way to get an undercover inside the walls. Second, Hong and his lieutenants meet at other places all over town that we know of, and probably some we don’t. So we could do it, but the cost would have Washington screaming like a stuck pig.”

  “While they waste even more money billing for gold-plated toilets and holding lavishly catered conferences,” Stephen said.

  The team opened the paint buckets, revealing pistols in holsters, magazines, gas masks and grenades. The tarps concealed the Colt Commandos and other equipment.

  Tanner looked at Vessler. “Roof access?”

  “Through there.” Vessler motioned to the inner office door.

  “Liam, come with me and bring Ghost. The rest of you, gear up. Dante, when you’re done, go down to the van and wait.”

  Stopping only long enough to pick up a case the side of a laptop bag, Liam followed Tanner and Vessler into the inner office, which matched the outer office in decor and the feeling of neglect.

  Vessler pointed to another door. “Ladder’s in there.”

  Tanner noticed the hatch in the roof. “I’ll get the ladder. Liam, prep Ghost.”

  Vessler watched as Liam placed the case on the desk and opened it. “What’s that?”

  Inside the padded case was a tablet and a drone of some sort. Liam lifted the drone out carefully. “This is Ghost.”

  The drone was the size of a hardback book, a minimal frame supporting four rotors on each corner and a ball in the middle with a camera. The frame, rotors and the camera housing were all made from a clear material and the parts that weren’t clear were varying shades of gray.

  “It’s designed to be used during the day for aerial recon. It’s whisper-quiet and hard to spot.”

  Tanner returned with the ladder, placed it below the hatch and climbed up. He unlocked the hatch and pushed it open while Liam picked up powered on the tablet.

  Vessler sighed. “You guys get all the fun toys.”

  Tanner looked down at Liam. “How much longer?”

  “Running system checks now. Not long if they check out okay.”

  Stephen walked in. His Commando was slung over his shoulder and his pistol belt had a couple of canisters on it. A gas mask hung around his neck. “We’re ready.”

  “We’ll be out in a minute.”

  Liam stared at the screen for a few more seconds, then tapped it. At once, all four rotors started spinning with a barely audible hiss.” Liam tapped the tablet again and the rotors slowed to a stop. “It’s ready.”

  “Hand it up here and gear up.” Liam took the drone and handed it up to Tanner, who placed it on the roof. The OUTCAST leader then followed Liam out into the outer office. Vessler joined them.

  “Prime to Base,”
Tanner said into his mic. “We’re gearing up.”

  “Copy, Prime,” Danielle said. “The city is a madhouse. Traffic is snarled on the 101 in both directions, the BART has been shut down, and all SFO flights are being routed to other airports. Reports are still fragmented, but it looks like all three incidents are terror acts. The acting mayor is calling for a dusk to dawn curfew.”

  “Keep an eye on things, Base. Prime out.”

  The team moved back to the inner office, where Liam picked up the tablet. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

  Tanner eyed the tablet screen, which showed the roof and its pebbled surface. He tapped the tablet multiple times and gradually, the roof grew smaller as the drone lifted off. After a few seconds the entire roof came into view. Liam tapped the screen and the drone’s camera shifted to face forward. All they could see was a wall.

  “Move it to the left,” Tanner said.

  Liam tapped the tablet screen and the drone moved left until it was clear of the wall. The view showed nothing but rooftops, each building separated from the next by low walls. In the distance, black smoke rose into the air. “I don’t see any guards on the roof.”

  “Take it up another thirty feet and make a run over the restaurant,” Tanner directed. “Then take it over the street so we can see the front door.”

  “Taking it up and over.”

  The drone moved forward, the camera angling so it could see the rooftops it was flying over. The drone flew all the way down the row of buildings until it was over the next street. “No rooftop guards,” Liam said. “Going for a street shot.”

  The drone swung around, located the street then moved above it until it came to a hover over the street. A cluster of men congregated in front of the Black Jade Dragon Restaurant. From this view, the fire escape was visible in front, with a set of stairs that ran up to the roof.

  “Can you get a better shot of those men around the door?” Vessler asked. She had drifted around to stand behind Liam’s other shoulder.