Red Ice

by Craig Reed Jr

  Tanner eyed his other two squad members. “You two all right?”

  “Legs ache,” Naomi said. “Otherwise, we’re ready to roll.”

  Tanner stood. “We’d better get going. If Rhee’s behind this, we need answers and we need them now.”

  Casey tipped his head toward the door. “Go. I need to wait for the replacement protection team from the local Secret Service office. They should be here any minute.” He shifted his gaze to Danielle. “You want to go up and get your equipment?”

  Danielle shook her head. “I have my main laptop in my bag. Everything else up there I can replace with a run to any electronics store.”

  “We do need to get our stuff from our rooms,” Tanner said.

  “Let’s get moving,” Casey reminded. “Rhee’s upped the ante and we have no telling how far he’s going to go. Call me if you need something.”

  #

  The San Francisco Emergency Response command center was a beehive of activity. With four major scenes of disaster, the tension was high as the city’s emergency management team tried to coordinate rescue and recovery on a scale none of them had ever expected to see. Everyone was speaking at once, communicating with the small band of senior decision makers who looked harried as they deployed resources to the crime scenes.

  In the back of the room, Acting Mayor Norman Kwan watched the people and systems he had helped fund and hired do their jobs. He was exhausted in both mind and body, having slept only a couple of hours in the last day and a half. He had no proof, no insider knowledge of the attacks, and yet he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt who was behind them.

  Rhee.

  He felt a spark of anger ignite within him. That bastard had invaded his city, killed hundreds of innocent people, and for what? Why had he done this? He inhaled slowly. The bastard had done one thing — he’d destroyed any lingering loyalty Kwan felt for his homeland. Too much time and too much blood had flowed for him to feel anything but contempt for the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea.

  “Sir?”

  Kwan turned his head slowly to see his aide. Sammi Jakes had been his personal assistant for ten years, and the youthful, stunning blonde had fueled rumors that she was his mistress. The reality was more mundane — Kwan loved his wife and family, while Sammi had her own wife with whom she was in the process of adopting children.

  “What now?”

  “The press is demanding an update.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Two-thirty.”

  “Tell them we’ll have a news conference at three. That’ll give us time to get the latest updates on the scenes.”

  Sammi nodded. “You should get some rest, sir. Right after the press conference.”

  Kwan snorted. “Not likely. The city’s going to hell. I’ve got no time for rest.”

  “I think you should go and freshen up, at least.”

  “All right. Stay here and monitor the situation. If anyone asks me where I am, I’ll be in my office.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  As soon as Kwan stepped outside, he was surrounded by police officers wearing vests and armed with M-16s. “My office,” Kwan told them.

  They walked to his office in silence. The tension in the halls was nearly as high as that in the emergency center. Armed National Guardsmen and SFPD officers were everywhere, either guarding areas or on roving patrol. People hurried along, their expression anxious and a few looking like they had been crying. Kwan decided that as soon as he could, he’d call the entire staff together and thank them for their service.

  Two more heavily armed peace officers were guarding his office. Kwan waited until two of his detail went into the room and checked for hidden threats before he entered himself. Inside, his staff had the same look of worry and fear as everyone else. His secretary glanced up as he passed her desk, but before she could say anything he told her, “Press conference, three pm.”

  After the officers with him completed the sweep of his office, Kwan motioned for them to stand outside while he went in alone. He headed to the attached bathroom, where he let the water run for a few seconds, then splashed some on his face, letting the coldness seep into his skin.

  His private cell phone rang. His mouth tugged down at the corners. Only a few people knew about it, close friends and family members. He took the phone out of his pocket and eyeballed the number, but didn’t recognize it. He answered it, ready to hang up. “Hello?”

  “Enjoying your new job, Mr. Mayor?”

  Kwan felt his body shake, out of both fear and in anger. “How did you—”

  “It wasn’t that hard, Mr. Mayor.” Rhee’s voice was relaxed, and Kwan knew he was enjoying this.

  “What the hell do you want?” Kwan demanded in a soft, though strident tone. “The city’s in shambles!”

  Rhee sounded amused. “Consider it a chance to demonstrate your leadership potential.”

  “What insanity are you committing? The police are scouring the city for you and your people.”

  “They won’t find us. Americans are mostly stupid and lazy.”

  “Why are you calling me?”

  “I’m checking to see if you’ve had a chance to carry out your instructions.”

  Kwan felt a shiver go down his spine. “In case you haven’t noticed, you son of a bitch, I’m a bit busy at the moment!”

  “Temper, temper, Mr. Mayor.”

  “I’m too busy trying to get a lid on the damage you and your murderous bastards did to this city.”

  Rhee’s tone grew colder. “Careful, Mayor Kwan. Or I might begin to think your loyalty lies elsewhere.”

  A knock at the door. “Sir?” a guard’s voice asked. “Are you all right?”

  “I have to go,” Kwan said softly. He disconnected the call, walked to the office door and opened it. A trio of guards clustered around the door. “I’m fine.”

  “We thought we heard voices—”

  “I was practicing some opening lines for the news conference.”

  “Are you ready, sir?”

  “Yeah. Just let me turn off the bathroom light and I’ll be right with you.”

  “Please leave the door open, sir.”

  He walked back to the bathroom, turned off the light, then looked around the office. Was all this worth the price innocents had to pay? He reached into his pocket and slid his fingers over the case Rhee had given him.

  “Everything all right, sir?”

  “Fine, yes.” Kwan withdrew his hand from his pocket. “Let’s get this press conference over with.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  The safehouse was located in the city’s Mission District, less than two miles from the pier where the DEA team had been ambushed several days ago. The street was narrow, barely wide enough for two cars to pass each other and only if they did so slowly. Garages and houses lined the street, none of the structures taller than two stories.

  The safehouse itself was in the middle of the block, a blue-gray painted rectangular building with white trim, garages at both ends. Above one end, a second story had been added, leaving the building looking unbalanced. There was nothing remarkable about the structure, nor the occasional residents. As far as the neighbors were aware, the house was owned by a high-tech company who used it to house employees from out of town working temporarily at the company’s San Francisco location.

  In reality, the place was a U.S. government safe house, one of several in the city. This one was CIA’s, used to debrief defectors coming out of China, and ironically, North Korea. As such, while the outside was unremarkable, the inside was very different.

  As soon as the van carrying Tanner and the others from the hotel turned onto the street, Tanner called Dante and let them know they were coming. Once they reached the house, the large garage door at one end opened. Liam eased the van into the garage.

  Tanner went over to a door with an attached keypad and tapped in a series of numbers. The door’s lock disengaged. He pushed the steel door open, revealing a stairca
se leading up to the second floor.

  Liam groaned. “I’ll stay down here.”

  “Come on, chicken,” Danielle said as she walked past him.

  The stairs led up to an open living room and kitchenette combination. Dante was in the corner kitchenette, pouring coffee into cups sitting on the counter. “Welcome.”

  “Where’s Stephen?” Tanner asked

  Dante motioned toward a closed door. “Watching Hong.”

  “Any problems?”

  “No. How bad is it?”

  As Tanner filled Date in on the latest developments, Danielle carried their new equipment over to a small dining table and began unboxing it. Naomi flopped onto a couch while Liam went over to the counter and picked up a couple of coffee cups and handed them out.

  While Liam sat in a recliner, Stephen opened a door and stepped into the room, wearing a balaclava over his head. He pulled it off and rubbed his face. “Hong’s awake, pissed off, and not saying a word.”

  Tanner picked up a coffee cup. “He’s going to start talking in a few minutes.”

  #

  Liam and Tanner entered the bedroom wearing balaclavas. Hong sat in a chair, handcuffed and bound. He glared at the pair as they entered. “You have no idea what you’re doing.”

  “We know exactly what we’re doing, Kuan-Tai.” Tanner opted to use Hong’s Chinese name to underscore the fact that he knew exactly what he was doing. He folded his arms. “I’ll make this simple. We know about Rhee, we know about the Red Ice, we know about Dr. Mori, and we know about the Black Dao’s involvement. We’re the ones who have been trashing your Triad businesses over the last twenty-four hours. You’re not our prime target, but we don’t give a damn if you end up in jail or dead. We want Rhee.”

  “I have no idea who or what you are talking about.”

  Tanner noticed a television in the corner of the room. “Two, turn on the TV. Our guest can see for himself what his friend Rhee has been up to.”

  Liam turned on the flat-screen. The first images the screen showed were of thick black smoke rising from the Golden Gate Bridge.

  “You see?” Tanner pointed at the TV. “Rhee and his men have been busy killing innocent people. He’s been committing terrorist attacks all over the city.”

  “Congratulation,” Liam added. “You’re now a terrorist”

  “I didn’t know!”

  “Didn’t know?” Tanner’s voice had an air of incredulity about it. “That’s not going to fly, Kuan—Tai. We have pictures of you and Rhee together. There are nearly two dozen Asian bodies in the city morgue. They might be Rhee’s men, or they could easily be your men.”

  “But—”

  “What about the men who tried to assassinate the mayor?” Liam asked. “It won’t take much to convince a jury that they’re Black Dao members. Thanks to Rhee, you and your Triad are up to your necks in this disaster, whether you want to be or not.”

  “I never gave those orders!”

  “It doesn’t matter if you did or not.” Tanner leaned down until he and Hong were face to face. “Rhee just gift-wrapped your gang for the feds, leaving you to take the fall while he and his goons go on their merry way, pocketing millions from the Red Ice while you rot in a cell.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Really? How do you think we found out about the drug lab? Rhee set you up, Kuan—Tai. He’s playing you like a violin.”

  “His country is still at war with the U.S.,” Liam said. “The Red Ice is his way of funding his mission. He killed over four hundred people today. How many will he kill when he has millions of dollars to spend?”

  Tanner put his hand on Hong’s shoulder. “Maybe he’ll murder your wife and children. He’s already tortured and killed the agent in charge of the DEA office in San Francisco and most of his family.”

  Hong went pale. “He did what?”

  “Yeah. The agent, his wife and two of his children, the youngest ten years old. That’s who your partner is. The only glimmer you have of not living the rest of your miserable life in a Supermax is to tell me where that Red Ice lab is, and where Rhee is. Otherwise, get use to spending the rest of your life warehoused in a very small box and never seeing the sun again. Your choice.”

  Hong’s expression didn’t change much, but Tanner could see the machinations going on behind the man’s eyes. “Give me a minute to think about it.”

  “I’ll give you two.”

  It took less than one minute for Hong to start talking.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  It was after dark when Rhee reached the lab.

  Rhee’s car was one of three in the convoy, all late model sedans, all rented from different rental companies. They rolled to a stop near the ranch house and the ten men in Muhn’s unit, the ones who had created the chaos in San Francisco, got out. They swept the area for trouble, most carrying an assortment of submachine guns close to their bodies.

  Myoung met Rhee on the porch. “The Americans are in a uproar.”

  Rhee walked inside, followed by Myoung and Muhn. “As to be expected. Have you heard from Seonwoo, any of his men, or Kim?”

  Myoung shook his head. “No, sir.”

  Rhee scowled. “Something’s gone wrong. They should have reported in by now.”

  “There were reports of an incident at the hotel, but the Americans have been tight-lipped about it,” Myoung said.

  “They would keep it quiet until they were sure.”

  “If they were captured, they wouldn’t tell the enemy anything.”

  “The Americans will stop at nothing to get the information. What is the latest on the incidents in the city?”

  “Hundreds dead, hundreds more injured. The BART and the Golden Gate Bridge are still closed, and the airport is shut down, with all flights diverted to other airports.”

  “Good. What about the bombs?”

  Myoung smiled. “We have over four and a half metric tons of ammonia nitrate. Each truck will carry over a metric ton of primed explosives, about the same size as the Oklahoma City bomb.”

  “I want those bombs ready to go the day after tomorrow.”

  “Have the targets been chosen?”

  “Yes. Los Angeles, Phoenix and Las Vegas. I want the bombs to explode simultaneously in all three places.”

  “That will be tricky. We need to calculate the distances so we can set the detonators’ timers.”

  “Muhn!”

  The large scar-faced man came to attention. “ Sir?”

  “I want your people to get some rest now, because I want them on the road before dawn. I need your teams in Chicago, Kansas City, and New Orleans before the end of the week. I want them in place and ready to recruit more shock troops a week from today. If Seonwoo and his men return, I’ll send them onto the next set of cities.”

  “And if he doesn’t return? Sir, as much as it pains me to say it, I believe that Seonwoo and his unit are dead.”

  Rhee scowled in thought. “I agree. Myoung, place the base on alert. Tell P’il that I want all prisoners except for the ones working in the lab in their cells until further notice. I want all the men carrying weapons at all times they’re on the property. How are our supplies?”

  “We have enough for a week.”

  “Good. What about the Red Ice shipment?”

  “It made it to Los Angeles with no problems. Our agent reports that half the shipment is already on the street, with the rest due there by this weekend. Initial reports indicate the drug is beginning to find a market. Dr. Ryuk reports they are aiming for about five hundred kilos of Red Ice a day.”

  “Good. With everyone’s attention focused on San Francisco at the moment, it should make the distribution in Los Angles easier.”

  #

  Kwan hated hospitals.

  The multiple disasters of the past ten hours had consumed his time and energy, and Rhee’s call didn’t help his stress levels. He had to get away from the bustle of the emergency command center, the continual demands for press
access. He needed time somewhere, even if it was only for a few minutes. The best he could come up with was to visit Mayor Pagliei.

  Kwan’s own security chief, Don Lenway, had objected to moving anywhere unnecessarily, but Kwan had insisted it was necessary to show his support for the mayor in the city’s time of need. In response, Lenway had tripled the security escort normally assigned to protect the mayor, and heavily armed them. With the curfew in effect, they made the trip in much less time than it would have normally taken.

  Despite the deserted streets, Kwan could feel the tension in the air. Hundreds of first responders, soldiers, marines and federal agents were swarming over the disaster sites, still searching for survivors amid the wreckage. The convoy moved at a much swifter speed than the law allowed, escorted by several SFPD cars. Part of Kwan felt guilty about the size of his escort, but Lenway had been unyielding in his insistence about that detail.

  And now he was here, alone in Pagliei’s hospital room, with four heavily armed guards outside the door, and more patrolling the floor. The doctors had told him that Pagliei was in a coma and unaware of the outside world. One looked at the frail body in the hospital bed was enough for Kwan. Instead, he spent most of his time staring out the window, fingering the case Rhee had left in his pocket. It would take ten, twenty seconds at most to inject the drug into the one of the IV bags, then stand back and watch the helpless woman die. It would get Rhee off his back and protect his family here and back in North Korea…

  … Until the next time.

  Committing murder would damn him forever, a stick Rhee and whoever followed him would hold over his head for the rest of his life. They wanted an agent of influence in the highest levels of the U.S. government, and they wanted to make sure their hold over him was absolute.

  He glanced at his watch. It was close to 10pm now. He still had twenty-eight hours left. Maybe Rhee would die before then. Maybe the feds would find Rhee and arrest him. Maybe Pagliei would even die without him having to do anything.