by Van Torrey
This is where Gamma - his CIA cover name - found himself this morning as he prepared himself to use his guile and people skills to prevent a nuclear terrorist act on the United States.
“Are you ready?” asked Chance Lyon as they gathered in the kitchen for coffee and a light breakfast.
“Yes, Lieutenant,” said Gamma, who could not shake his sense of military discipline and call Lyon by his given name, “I think I am. However, this morning I found myself wondering about this journey I am on and thinking, really thinking, whether I am still a Korean, or am I now an American...or a Korean-American, as some of the ethnic groups in the U.S.A. prefer to be known.”
“Well, I look upon you as a loyal Korean, General,” answered Lyon.
“I am sure there are those who would question my loyalty, especially General Fhang,” Gamma replied with a grim smile.
“Yes, to a point,” remarked Max Jenkins, who had now joined the conversation. “However, the General’s motives are not pure and many people could die if we do not stop this.”
“Of course, I am aware of his many faults. I hope to live long enough to see that someone with genuine concern for the North Korean people can bring them out of the darkness that has prevailed there since the end of World War Two and forge reconciliation with their brothers in the South,” answered Gamma.
“Perhaps you could be that man,” said Max. “I’m sure you are more principled that those who have been in power since the war.”
“Principled? You don’t really know me, Mr. Jenkins. I wouldn’t even be here today if I had not been caught in a web of deceit of my own doing and found out by the woman who is now your President. With good fortune I could have been living the good life in Dubai, or Switzerland...”
“...or dead,” interjected Max. “Plots between nefarious scoundrels seldom end well, and I have seen many.”
“How about you, Max? Do you sleep well at night? You must have compromised a few principles in doing your work along the way,” asked Gamma.
“Compromises...yes, regrets...no. If I ever start feeling guilty about what I do, I’ll walk away and tend to my garden,” Max replied quietly, referring to his hobby of raising orchids. “In espionage there are really no good guys. It’s all a matter of perspective on who you work for. By and large I think the U.S.A. has been the good cop better than fifty percent of the time and the world is arguably a better place because of it. Mistakes... bullying...supporting despots, yeah we’ve done a lot of that, but by and large, I think we have been pretty altruistic about our motives. On balance, there are more people living a better life in the world today because of what we have done since the Big War than the opposite.”
“How about you personally, Max?” asked Gamma.
“I don’t moralize about my job, General. I’m damned good at what I do, and someone has to do it. I’m here until the next man up.”
“That sounds kind of like Richard Nixon; at least the moralizing part,” joked Lyon with a hearty laugh.
“Nixon was trying to cover his own ass, I’m usually trying to see a broader perspective than that,” Max said with a wink toward Gamma.
*
Park Man-soo knew it was on his shoulders to get it right this time. The disaster at the Vancouver airport three weeks before was personally embarrassing to him, and worse, had cost the life of the only female member of the KNT. Far from being a weak and indecisive woman not being able to pull her weight, Soo-lin had been both mother and confidant to the men who had made the perilous journey across the cold and treacherous northern Pacific to wait out the arrival of the nuclear technician. Recruited from the Korean expat community by Choi Ji-min, after a brief period of suspicion on the part of the men who had made the journey from the DPRK, they had grudgingly grown to accept her as one of the group. But all her positive influences had gone for naught upon her death at the airport. Today would be different and her death paid for by their success.
Park spoke to his second-in-command, Chung-mi, in the early morning hours of Saturday as he summed up the strategy for reconnecting with the nuclear technician. “We must assume the message coming from the Korean Consul’s office is an attempt by the technician to make the connection with us after the failed attempt three weeks ago,” he said. “This time I am hoping for no intervention by those who shot Soo-lin. It is difficult to know for sure, but we must assume they too were trying to intercept the technician, but who they were and their motives are unclear. Perhaps the technician can enlighten us.”
“As you say, Man-soo, let me assemble the others and we can go over the plan one last time before we go to the airport.”
*
At ten-thirty Saturday morning the Americans split into two groups and moved into position to take advantage of their respective targets. With Peggy as driver, she and Olyphant parked in a hotel parking lot near Vancouver International while they received regular updates on their sat phone from the FBI team receiving a live feed from the Argus drone that had been following Ibrahim al-Faisal as he drove into Vancouver to manage his team of Islamic terrorists.
“He and his team have left their house, presumably on their way to the airport,” Craig Murphy announced on the speaker of the sat phone. “Al-Faisal is alone and driving a green Toyota SUV with Washington plates XCV-264. The others left in two white Chevy vans and are following him.”
“Let me know if they get close to the airport. We’re only interested in the Toyota right now,” answered Blackie Olyphant.
“Blackie, Craig here again. We have intercept traffic indicating al-Faisal’s going to park in the short-term garage across from the International Terminal. He’s directing the others to be dropped off at the International Terminal and for the drivers of the vans to go to the cell phone lot to wait. He’s telling them not to take the Korean until he gets in the terminal and they get the go-ahead from him. This is all the evidence we need to take him down.”
“Got that, Craig,” answered Olyphant. “We’re in a parking lot about three hundred yards from the entrance to the parking garage...just keep track of him until we can get a visual and a confirmation that we’re on his tail. We’ll do the rest.”
*
Lyon and his team were already inside the International Terminal by eleven-thirty and had taken their positions. Gamma was carrying the black aluminum briefcase, and was dragging a small roller suitcase for his cover as a traveler. His ordinary looking watch doubled as a GPS transponder, and there was also one built-in to the briefcase. Between the two devices, under ideal circumstances, the FBI would be able to maintain a constant location on Gamma.
For Lyon’s team, managing the hand-off of Gamma to the Koreans was more of a passive exercise than an active one. For Lyon, who was used to being in control of an action plan that he had at least participated in hatching, this was a tedious and unfamiliar exercise. Being at the mercy of third parties to affect an outcome was not the Navy SEAL way!
Lyon had not shaved for several days and was dressed as a grungy young backpacker who might be on his way to the wilds of British Columbia after taking a flight from anywhere. Miss Joon appeared as a KAL Flight Attendant with clothes she had obtained from the local Goodwill store. In her handbag she carried a Ruger LCR revolver armed with plus-P .38 Special hollow-points. This gun would be perfect for any close-in work anticipated in the airport. She hoped it would not be needed.
As for Max Jenkins, his temporary transformation into an airline pilot courtesy of the Goodwill store as well was made even more authentic with the Ray Ban Aviators that he frequently carried when he traveled on assignment. Knowing Max, in a pinch, he could have probably landed a crippled Boeing 747 and nonchalantly walked away.
*
Blackie and Peggy soon received a call from Craig Murphy that Ibrahim al-Faisal had entered the traffic lane most likely to lead to the parking garage. This placed both on high alert.
“Okay, Peggy, things may start to happen fast here,” warned Blackie Olyphant. “Let’s ease our wa
y into the traffic pattern and when al-Faisal goes by us, simply edge right in behind him. Screw the courtesy. We’re going for it here! The Argus has us in its sights too and will give us plenty of warning. When he takes a ticket to go into the garage, just stay on his tail and try to get through the gate as quickly as possible. If we have to drive through the gate, don’t sweat it. By the time this is over, that’s probably the least of the laws that’ll be broken,” he said as he smiled confidently at Peggy.
“What if he sees us as a threat and tries to get away, Blackie?”
“We’re counting on that not happening, Peg. You gotta have faith sometimes. If he does, we’ll have to ram him and take our chances.”
“H’mmm sounds exciting!” deadpanned Peggy.
“We’ll wait until he pulls into a parking space and simply pull in front or directly in back of him to block an exit, as the case may be.” reminded Olyphant.
*
The Koreans arrived at the airport at eleven-forty, giving them plenty of time to get into position. Park would be the contact person with the others providing some form of security in case of a confrontation with the rival group. The two most senior men accompanying Park carried Russian-made 9mm Makarov pistols. The driver was the one Korean besides Park who spoke English. The most junior man stayed behind to guard the warehouse.
*
By midday Saturday the Vancouver airport was a teeming mass of international travelers of every ethnicity arriving at this Western gateway to North America, primarily from the many departure points in Asia and the Pacific Rim. Park and his two men were dropped at the terminal and within moments blended in with the amalgam of humanity making a getaway, retrieving luggage, or seeking a human connection. It was the latter that Park Man-soo hoped would be the catalyst for moving his mission of terror forward to a conclusion.
*
Gamma and Chance Lyon entered a men’s’ room off the KAL baggage carousels at different times shortly before noon. Chance stayed in a stall and Gamma pretended to freshen up by a sink while waiting until twelve o’clock to emerge to a point selected by Miss Joon. She would mingle near the carousels and text Chance when a mass of people descended there to collect their luggage. Max was strolling near the area pretending to talk on his cell phone, while actually surveilling the crowd through his Ray Bans looking for trouble.
*
“Coming up on your left,” said Craig Murphy to Blackie and Peggy through the speaker on their phone.
“Got him in my side mirror,” replied Peggy calmly. “I’ll lift a little and let him slide by.”
Just as Ibrahim al Faisal moved by in his Toyota SUV, Peggy skillfully tucked in behind and nearly made contact with his rear bumper. “Easy, girl,” breathed Blackie. “Just stay in contact, we got him, all we have to do is reel him in nice and slow.”
“Okay, Blackie, we have the Chevy van pulling to the curb near the KAL baggage area. That’s all we can do for you at the moment,” said Craig Murphy.
“Okay, I’ll text Max he’s got company coming,” replied Olyphant. “Stay on station so we can track the Koreans and the other guys. The main target is the Koreans...do you have a fix on them?”
“Negative. We’ll have to wait until we pick up a signal from your guy’s GPS,” Murphy said. “Once we have that, we’ll have a lock on ‘em. “They can run, but they can’t hide”, is our mantra. The eye in the sky never blinks.”
Peggy passed through the entry gate to the parking garage right on the tail of al-Faisal and followed him up the spiraling ramp until he turned off into the parking area on level four. He passed several potential parking spaces and pulled into a space overlooking the street below with the front of the SUV up against the concrete barrier edge of the garage.
Olyphant reached into his jacket packet and pulled out a Zip-Lock plastic bag with a bandana soaked in chloroform inside. As Peggy pulled directly behind the SUV to prevent any escape, Olyphant exited the vehicle and quickly made his way to the driver’s side and opened the door. Ibrahim al-Faisal looked up in shock at the menacing face of the hulking Blackie Olyphant. The combination of his black eye patch and angry scowl caused al-Faisal to cringe in fear and he reflexively lurched toward the passenger side of the SUV in an attempt to escape. He pushed on the door in desperation but Peggy had slouched down against it from the outside, jamming it against his efforts.
Meanwhile, Olyphant had extracted the chloroform soaked rag from the envelope and fell on the lunging al-Faisal, smashing it against his mouth and nose. Al-Faisal continued struggling but was seriously outweighed by the bulky ex-Ranger. It was no contest and al-Faisal succumbed to the crude anesthesia within thirty seconds. Olyphant gave it another fifteen seconds for good measure and pulled himself off the limp body of al-Faisal.
Peggy ran around to the driver’s side and helped Olyphant drag the sagging body from the SUV into the back seat of their car and threw a blanket over him. In moments they were speeding out of the parking garage with al-Faisal’s entry ticket and the keys to the Toyota SUV safely in hand. Olyphant texted Lyon: CAT IN THE BAG.
*
As a deluge of people descended on the KAL baggage carousels after two Boeing 787’s from Tokyo and Seoul respectively disgorged their exhausted human cargo after long, cramped flights over the Pacific, Miss Joon texted Lyon: PERFECT. It was exactly 12:10 p.m.
Chance left the stall and went to the basin next to Gamma and began to wash his hands. Gamma caught the signal and followed Chance out into the bustling mass to make his rendezvous with his fellow Koreans.
*
Max Jenkins spotted the two Iranians immediately and could see them excitedly talking to each other and maneuvering in the direction of Gamma, who was trying to maintain a business-like demeanor near one of the carousels. Both looked at their cell phones repeatedly as if expecting a message and looked at each other with a puzzled look. Little did they know that Ibrahim al-Faisal was in no position to give them the go-ahead text they were looking for.
Craig was on the telephone with his NSA counterpart and gave him the go-ahead to send a text message to the Iranian driving the van that said simply: ABORT SAVE YOURSELF IAF.
With al-Faisal knocked out in the back seat of Peggy’s car, the Iranian driver told to abort the mission and “save himself”, the final blow to the Islamic Wind was dealt when Max Jenkins approached an airport security officer. “Officer, see those two Iranian men by the baggage carousel? I’m the captain of the flight they just arrived on. My flight attendant told me they were acting suspiciously. She speaks a little Farsi and said they were excited about getting their checked bag that contained drugs and money. I would be watching them if I were you.”
The security officer looked Max up and down as if to validate his veracity and looked in the direction of the two Iranians who were still urgently looking at their watches.
“Thanks, captain,” replied the officer. “I think I’ll go check them out right now.” The security officer walked off in the direction of the Iranians calling for backup on his radio. Lest the security officer come back to ask Max any questions, Max ducked into the men’s room and into a stall. There he hung his flight jacket and his captain’s hat on the hook of the door, put on a baseball cap and took off his Ray Bans, tucking them into his shirt. In a moment, Max was just another tired traveler looking for his luggage.
As Max reentered the crowd around the baggage carousel, he noticed three uniformed security officers speaking to the two Iranians. The Iranians who were both talking loudly and gesticulating wildly, presumably about what a terrible mistake this was.
*
Miss Joon was staying as close to and behind Gamma as was reasonably possible, trying to avoid being jostled by the crowd seeking their luggage. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a Korean man walking in the direction of Gamma as they eyed him intently. This must be the contact, she reasoned. At that moment she made eye contact with Lyon who was looking in her direction but facing Gamma and placed her right hand t
o her forehead with her index finger pointing to her left. Lyon caught the signal and immediately put his cell phone to his ear as a signal to Gamma that a potential was approaching. This was the moment of truth for Gamma - a cue that he was suddenly on stage and should be ready for the performance of a lifetime. It was 12:20 p.m.
Park Man-soo made a brief assessment of Gamma from ten feet away and made the command decision that Gamma was the contact he was looking for. He smiled directly at Gamma and extended his hand in greeting toward Gamma as the other Koreans looked nervously around as if to check for threats.
“Hello, I am Park Man-soo. I hope you have not been waiting too long.”
Gamma’s gut instinct, sharpened by years of soldiering and making quick assessments of others in stressful situations, as well as navigating the constant intrigues of North Korean politics, kicked into gear and gave him the confidence to respond readily. “I am so pleased to see you. I am sorry about the shocking events of weeks ago that spoiled our original planned encounter. May I pay my personal respects? I am Kim Dong-sun.”
Park was hugely relieved that they had apparently made contact at last with the missing link in their mission. His relief was genuine but reciprocated in a more subdued manner by Gamma that their risky gambit had succeeded. “As soon as you collect your bag, we can go, Mr. Kim. I have a car waiting.”
“This roller bag is all I have,” answered Kim. “I am ready when you are.”
“Fine, may I introduce my two colleagues, Mun-he, and In-su,” added Park. You will meet the others later.”
Miss Joon, Chance Lyon, and Max Jenkins all breathed a collective sigh of relief that the hand-off had been made flawlessly, with little suspicion apparent on the part of the Koreans. Now the ball was in Gamma’s court to learn the details of the terrorist bomb plot and to communicate them to the American team so it could be foiled.
The three left the baggage claim separately and in a few moments all got on the intra-terminal bus exiting at the parking garage and blending into the throng seeking their cars.