Pulse Point

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Pulse Point Page 18

by Don Pendleton


  * * *

  JAMES AND ENCIZO headed for the spot where Phoenix Force had originally come ashore. They moved fast, constantly aware that Choi’s search teams were still around. Their shoreline ingress location was the closest to the research facility, and it was entirely possible the NKs might have been checking the area.

  It turned out the enemy had been thinking ahead.

  “Landing site is well and truly compromised,” James said over the comm set. “We have a reception committee waiting for us to show up. Don’t know how they figured it out, but they did.”

  “Hang tight,” McCarter said. “How many?” he asked.

  “I see at least five,” James answered. “They have our goody bag dug up, as well. Wet suits and all spread over the sand.”

  There was a pause before McCarter spoke again. “Pull back. Head for our location. It looks as if we actually do have a Plan B.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  HAWAII

  “That Korean’s actions have made things worse,” Xian Chi said. “Hiring local thugs to deal with the police and those agents has not done anything positive. Now they will be out in force looking for answers. Looking for us.”

  “Then the sooner we get the package off the island the better,” Macklin said. “The longer we hang on to it, the more chance it might be discovered.”

  “Tak will be thinking the same. Has he contacted you since you took it?”

  “No, but I figure he soon will. For now it’s secure. My people will have eyes on it.” Macklin paused. “You said you were going to deal with Tak.”

  “Yes,” Chi said. “The matter is well in hand.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  Chi glanced at the American. “Are you worried your final payment might be compromised, Mr. Macklin?”

  “Can’t deny the thought has crossed my mind, but that isn’t my main concern. Tak is no fool. I’m suggesting you take care. He’s suspicious by nature. If he even thinks something is wrong...”

  “Your concern is noted. I know Tak. The man would not trust his own mother. And in matters concerning the state, he will be extravigilant. However, I am not without guile, so dealing with Tak will be handled quickly, and he will not be expecting it. What is that Western saying—yes—he won’t know what hit him.” Chi smiled at his own wit. “I rather like the concept.”

  “Contact me as soon as you complete arrangements to move the item,” Macklin said. He stood, pushing back the chair, and left the hotel lobby.

  Chi leaned back. Only a short time ago he had faced Tak, who had been sitting in the same chair Macklin had just vacated.

  So much had happened in the time since then. If matters took their course, the mission would be completed.

  Tak would be dead, and the package would be on its way to Beijing.

  Chi raised a hand to a passing server and ordered more coffee. If he was summoned back home, one thing he would miss would be American coffee. He had grown to like it. Chi sighed. A small thing perhaps, but his indulgences did add a bit of pleasure to his busy life.

  He took out his cell and tapped in a number, then waited for pickup.

  “Ah, Tak, we need to meet. Final arrangements to make. Where?” Chi smiled at the Korean’s suggestion. “Good. An hour? Very well. I will see you there.”

  Chi watched as his coffee was delivered and placed on the small table in front of him. He signed the bill, poured himself a fresh cup, raising it in a mock salute.

  “Thank you, Tak, for making this easy for me.”

  He phoned Kai Yeung, and told him to bring the car around to the front of the hotel. He strolled outside and waited until the car arrived, then climbed into the rear seat. He told the younger man where to drive. If everything went as planned, another part of the operation would be complete.

  Tak removed once and for all.

  A step closer to Chi taking over the operation completely, sweeping away the deadwood, as it were. He smiled.

  Deadwood seemed to describe Tak, the North Korean, so lacking in any kind of finesse. Chi had never taken to the man, to his dour personality and his mind-numbing adherence to North Korean dogma. The man had no redeeming features to his personality. The sooner he was eliminated, the sooner Xian Chi could move on.

  Tak’s own suggestion as where to meet had been ideal—a storage facility on the edges of the warehouse district, overlooking the Pacific. The Korean had used the place for clandestine meetings with his hired people and to house equipment. It was isolated. A shabby, run-down area that not even the local derelicts bothered with. Darkness would also help, as the evening brought shadows to the area.

  Chi arrived well ahead of time. Yeung dropped him on the perimeter, then drove away. Once he had dealt with Tak, Chi would call his driver and arrange to be picked up some distance away. The service road leading to this section of the waterfront was quiet during daylight hours. At night even more so.

  Chi had dressed down for the occasion. Dark clothing, topped off with a leather jacket, one of the deep pockets concealing the 9 mm automatic pistol, already fitted with a suppressor; it was a new weapon, never having been fired before, so there would be nothing on record for the police to link up with.

  He reached the storage building and stood outside, waiting. As usual Tak was exactly on time, driving himself in a Ford sedan. The headlights picked up Chi’s waiting figure. They flicked off as Tak stopped the car and climbed out. He wore the same suit he had had on when he and Chi had spoken in the hotel.

  The man never relaxes, Chi thought. Even in Hawaii, he dressed as if he were at a board meeting.

  “Where is your car?” Tak asked, staring around the area.

  “Kai Yeung brought me,” Chi answered honestly. “He will collect me later.”

  Tak considered the explanation. Then his head moved.

  “We should go inside, so we can’t be seen. In case someone walks by.”

  Chi couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to take a leisurely stroll through such a dilapidated area. He didn’t press the point. He let it go as just another of Tak’s paranoia episodes.

  “Yes.”

  Tak pushed open the side door and stepped inside the building.

  As Chi followed, his hand dropped inside the pocket of his coat, gripping the pistol.

  Tak said, “I will contact Pyongyang as soon as we...”

  Chi was directly behind him.

  He drew the pistol, raised it and pressed the tip of the suppressor against the back of Tak’s head.

  Tak’s words trailed off. He made a soft, breathy sound, as he realized what was about to happen. It was far too late for him to do anything about it.

  There was no hesitation in Chi’s actions as he pulled the pistol’s trigger and fired twice. Both 9 mm slugs hammered into the Korean’s skull. The second one went all the way through and exited from Tak’s left socket, taking the eye out in a burst of blood and fluid. The shots destroyed Tak’s brain, and he dropped without a murmur, slamming facedown on the dirty floor.

  Xian Chi dropped the pistol back in his pocket and quickly left the building, closing the door behind him. He crossed to Tak’s car and saw the keys still in the ignition. He pulled on the gloves he carried in his pocket and sat inside the car, starting the engine. He released the hand brake and dropped the selector to Drive.

  As the car started to move, Chi spun the wheel and aimed the vehicle for the edge of the dock. He let it roll, then quickly exited the car and closed the door. He stood watching as the car cruised to the water’s edge. It was moving slowly and for a moment it seemed it wouldn’t make it, so Chi leaned his weight against the trunk and pushed. The car gained enough momentum to teeter on the edge for several long seconds before the weight of the front did the trick and it fell, scraping the wall of the dock as it dropped. The
splash when it hit the water seemed incredibly loud. Dark water foamed up around the car as it finally slid under the surface, wide ripples spreading out. Then the water settled and calmed.

  Chi turned and walked away, back across the dock. He called Yeung and told him to pick him up. Minutes later he was settling in the rear of the car, on his way back to the hotel, allowing himself a faint smile of satisfaction.

  One more problem out of the way.

  But Xian Chi was wrong.

  His problems were far from over.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  HAWAII

  “HPD called this in an hour ago,” Kalikani said over his cell. “Harbor patrol boat spotted an oil patch near the dock in the abandoned warehouse district. They took a look and spotted something under the water. Diver went down and found a late-model car on the bottom. Nobody inside. Vehicle was newly dumped. When the registration was checked, it turned out to be a rental from a company one of the hotels uses.”

  “They find out who the driver was?” Lyons asked.

  His cell was on Speaker so they all could hear.

  “You’ll like this,” Kalikani said. “Car was booked to a guest at the hotel by the name of Soon Il Tak. North Korean.”

  “O,” Lopaka said, “I know that tone. What else aren’t you telling us?”

  “Give a guy his moment, girl. The harbor patrol called HPD, and a cruiser made the scene. Checked the area. They found a body in the building right where the car went into the water. Double tap to the back of the head. Identification in the pocket was for Soon Il Tak. His photo matched what was left of his face. His passport was in his pocket. What are you supersleuths going to make out of that little mix?”

  “This is getting weird,” Lopaka said.

  “You think?” Blancanales said.

  “I’ll call home,” Lyons said. “Send me what you have, Oscar.”

  “I’ll get the crime scene cops to push the dead guy’s picture through.”

  Blancanales said, “You say he had his passport on him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Maybe he was getting ready to leave,” Schwarz said.

  “Might not have been the way he expected,” Kalikani said, “because now he’s really gone.”

  Twenty minutes later Lyons was forwarding all the data they had to Stony Man and asking for a quick result.

  “This guy was North Korean,” he said. “How likely is it we can get any useful data from him?”

  “It’s going into the system as we speak, my impatient brother,” Kurtzman said lightly. “My equipment is fast, but I still need to feed it first.”

  Lyons grunted and ended the call.

  “Let’s get back to our hotel. Wait it out until we have some answers. Right now we don’t have squat on who else is mixed up in this.”

  “I’ll get back to the station,” Lopaka said. “Check in with O and see if he’s found anything.”

  She returned to her HPD cruiser.

  Watching her go, Blancanales said, “She makes me want to break the law, just so I can get arrested.”

  “That’s recognized as dirty-old-man talk,” Schwarz said.

  “Really?” Blancanales said, smiling. “But not so much of the old-man part.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  ABLE TEAM—ASSAULT

  Jenny Lopaka crossed the office area and homed in on Kalikani’s desk. She perched herself on the corner of his desk.

  “Hey, O. Anything for me?”

  Kalikani eased his swivel seat around, wincing slightly when even that small effort gave him discomfort.

  “One of the bonuses of being confined to this damn seat,” he said, “is it gives me time to think.”

  “I have a feeling something bad is coming,” Lopaka said.

  “Maunakea Market. Those guys were waiting for us. Knew we were coming. Same with the Wiseman thing. Setups, clean and simple.”

  “I think we all got that.”

  “So the next step is who gave out the locations?”

  “Not to sound a little simplistic, but it had to be someone who knew in advance.”

  “Exactly. These meetings were not publicized. As far as I can figure, there was a single source with that knowledge.”

  Kalikani let the words go and leaned back.

  Realization dawned on Jenny Lopaka’s face. To her credit, she maintained a neutral expression as she leaned forward.

  “The department?”

  Kalikani nodded briefly. “I can’t pin it on anyone else. The information had to be leaked from in here.”

  Lopaka’s expression changed as she said, “The convoy. Everything about the transport detail came from here. Those six cops died because somebody passed on the schedule.”

  “Looks that way. Keep calls to the department to the minimum. Use my personal cell. You got that?”

  Lopaka acknowledged. She said, “Who would do this to us and get our own killed?”

  “I’ll find out,” Kalikani said. “You get back to Matthews.”

  * * *

  AS SHE SLIPPED behind the wheel of her cruiser, Lopaka had to push back the anger she felt over the possibility of a department member being responsible for the deaths of the six cops. Discovering who that person was would be down to Kalikani. She had no doubt he would succeed. Oscar Kalikani was a good cop. He knew his job, and his own anger would push him to the limits. Kalikani would not stop until he exposed the one responsible.

  * * *

  BACK AT ABLE Team’s hotel, Lopaka reported what Kalikani had told her.

  “Fits,” Schwarz said. “An insider with knowledge. Tipping off the opposition.”

  “For money? Blackmail?” Lopaka asked.

  “There are always reasons for people to go rogue,” Blancanales said. “You mentioned money. Blackmail. What about political convictions? Ideological leanings? Revenge?”

  “I can relate to that,” Lopaka said. “It’s buzzing around inside my head right now.”

  “Don’t get mad—get even,” Blancanales advised.

  “Aren’t they the same?”

  “You let emotions take control, it can lead to you losing focus,” Blancanales said. “You get even by concentrating on the facts and working on a reasoned response.”

  “He gets on one of his considered arguments, you end up falling asleep through sheer boredom,” Schwarz said. “When you come round, you’ve forgotten what it was all about.”

  Lopaka caught the playful tone in Schwarz’s voice.

  “You guys,” she said.

  Lyons’s cell buzzed. He answered and listened to the caller. The call was long.

  “It’ll be his mother,” Blancanales said. “She gets worried when he’s away. Be checking he’s changing his underwear every day and not staying out too late.”

  Lopaka was still smiling when Lyons ended the call.

  “I know what you were saying,” he said.

  “Did Mom say hi?” Blancanales said.

  “No, but she did come up with some helpful information. Our friend Borgnine showed up here a few days ago. Flew in from San Francisco along with his old buddies, Spelman and Macklin.”

  “So all we need to know is where they’re hanging out,” Schwarz said.

  “That’s no problem. Mother used her home computer to hack into the airport camera system. Our three suspects took a cab from the airport to an address outside the city. Turns out it’s a rented property without any close neighbors.”

  “Nice touch using a cab,” Schwarz said. “No contact with their employers in a public place. Keeps it all low-key.”

  “You located all this using your base?” Lopaka asked.

  “Most anything we need,” Lyons said.

 
“Your people can do all that?”

  Schwarz nodded. “Let’s say Mother has a few electronic tricks up her knitted sleeve.”

  “I believe you,” Lopaka said.

  “Let’s go make a house call,” Lyons said.

  * * *

  LOPAKA LED THE way out of the city and into the hills that flanked it. Able Team followed in their own vehicle, Schwarz driving.

  They turned off the main road, and Lopaka took them along a narrow side road until she pulled into a wooded area and stopped. Schwarz braked and shut off the engine, while they saw the HPD cop climb out and walk to the rear of her cruiser.

  Lopaka reached inside the Crown Vic’s trunk and took out a Benelli M1 auto-shotgun. She quickly loaded seven 12-gauge cartridges into the underbarrel tube, then six extra shells into the side-saddle carrier fixed to the receiver. She checked her S&W 9 mm issue pistol, slipping a couple extra 15-round magazines into side pouches on her HPD gun belt. She pulled on a department protective flak jacket and zipped it up. Finally she hung a compact pair of binoculars around her neck.

  “You sure you have enough there?” Blancanales asked as he joined her.

  Lopaka said, “My training officer told me that you can never carry enough when going into a tricky situation.”

  Lyons reached into the rear of Able Team’s SUV and hauled out the ordnance bag they had brought with them.

  “She talks my language,” he said, as he pulled out a Franchi-SPAS combat shotgun and began to load it from the supply of 12-gauge shells Stony Man had provided.

  “Well, at least our fearless leader is happy,” Schwarz commented.

  “So, you guys really do like each other, yeah?”

  Schwarz and Blancanales exchanged stone-faced glances that forced a chuckle from the HPD cop.

  A pair of 9 mm Uzis were loaded by Schwarz and Blancanales. They fed 30-round magazines into the SMGs and added extra mags to their own flak jackets.

  “Been around for a while,” Lopaka said, indicating the Israeli SMGs. “Fired one at the range once. Good weapon.”

  “It does what it says on the box,” Schwarz said.

 

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