by Tom Clancy
This worried Adam. How would the old man know they were going somewhere?
The father mumbled something. Adam couldn’t understand, and he saw Hwang couldn’t make it out, either.
“What, Father?”
“Disgrace. You are a disgrace! You bring dishonor on us!”
Adam was moving in a half-second, opening the car door, leaping out into the little driveway, running up to the door. “Hwang!”
The old lady shouted now. “The Dae Wonsu will have his revenge for your deceit!” She threw a bony, weak fist at her son’s face. It glanced off him, but he reacted as if he had been decked by a heavyweight.
“Mother!” Hwang shouted in shock.
Adam pushed between them as both the old man and the old lady began throwing blows. Most of them hit Adam on his back. None of them hurt at all.
“Let’s go!” he said in Mandarin.
“Traitor!” Hwang senior shrieked. “Working with the jung gug-ui!” The Chinese.
Yao saw the tears on Hwang’s face, the incomprehension that his own parents had turned against him.
But he wouldn’t leave.
Adam shouted, “They turned you in! We have to get out of here!”
Hwang just stood on the little stoop; his parents were still within arm’s reach and they swung and scratched at him. Adam fought them both off with one arm, but he’d taken a blow just over the eye and the old couple seemed to grow stronger with adrenaline. If he had his way he’d deck them both, just drop them with a couple of jabs, but he knew that would just anger Hwang and jeopardize a mission that already had enough going against it.
“Forget them!” he shouted at Hwang. He saw Hwang’s wife climbing out of the SUV now. He yelled at her in Korean. “Get back in the car!”
“No!” Hwang cried openly now, his face tight, eyes squinted but tears managing to find their way through and down his face.
“Hwang!” Adam shouted. “Your children! Min-hee and Du-ho won’t stand a chance if we don’t run right now!”
The fifty-four-year-old Korean turned to Adam, opened his eyes a little. Finally he turned and started back to the car.
Adam took one last look at the parents. They were impossibly small and rail-thin, but the anger in their eyes made them look like wild animals.
Hwang walked across the driveway, his parents running after him. Adam got behind Hwang to where he couldn’t see him, then spun around with his fist balled and high. He had no plans on beating an eighty-year-old couple, even though he thought it likely their actions might well get him, this family, and the Australian geologist killed.
He jumped back behind the wheel and jammed the vehicle in reverse, backed out of the little dirt drive, and put it in gear. He stomped on the accelerator, and the four-cylinder shot dirt and fishtailed, then raced on.
Headlights appeared on the tiny road ahead of him. Multiple sets of high beams. Adam kept racing right toward them as fast as he could, hoping like hell they would move out of the way. At twenty yards he could tell they were troop trucks, so he swerved off the road and began crashing through the low fences of the tiny postage-stamp yards in front of the cottages. One after the other he smashed through wooden and wire fences, then bounced up into gardens, back down the other side, and then crashed through the next stretch of fence.
As they passed the trucks he heard the booming cracks of rifle fire. Everyone in the SUV screamed for their lives, but the vehicle bounced on, reached the end of the neighborhood, and peeled hard to the right, accelerating down a hill.
“You called your parents! You told them we were coming. Didn’t you?” Adam asked.
Hwang just nodded, tears streaming down his face. Behind him his wife screamed at him, and his kids were on the verge of hyperventilation. Dr. Powers was doing everything she could to calm the children, but she didn’t speak their language, so it was an impossible task.
A pair of helicopters flew low overhead.
“Hold on!” Adam said it in Korean, then jacked the wheel to the right.
The mud and rocks slapped the undercarriage of the vehicle as it bounced down a hill in the dark.
He shouted to Hwang. “Where does this road go?”
“It leads to a stream. Straight ahead at the bottom of the hill.”
“How deep?”
Hwang thought. “At this time of the year it is very shallow. Almost dry in places.”
Adam didn’t much like his plan, but he felt he had no choice. He reached up and flipped off the headlights.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m hoping they don’t have night vision!”
He fought the strong urge to turn the lights back on, and the even stronger urge to slow down. Finally he felt the hill bottom out, and he turned to the right, away from the ocean to his left. He slowed a little, but kept as much speed as he dared. The SUV bounced wildly over the rocks in the dry streambed.
Adam saw the lights of the helicopters in the distance as the SUV drove on. The helos would follow the road, looking for the SUV, and as long as Adam and the others stayed at the bottom of the little valley, moving in the dry streambed, and as long as there was cover from the flora above them, they would be safe.
“Are you okay?” Adam asked Hwang.
The North Korean was still crying, but he nodded distractedly. Though Hwang’s family was in the car with him, Adam saw that the man felt totally alone after his parents turned on him.
Adam said, “You had to do this. Choi was going to kill everyone in your family.”
Hwang turned and pointed at Adam angrily. “You are an inferior jung gug-ui! You do not say the family name of the Dae Wonsu!”
Christ, Yao thought. This one is brainwashed like all the others.
73
President of the United States Jack Ryan wasn’t fit to travel, especially halfway around the world, but he was doing it anyway. The trip was against the advice of his doctors, his wife, and anyone with a shred of knowledge of broken bones and soft-tissue damage and the dangers of exhaustion, but Ryan was the President, and he overruled them all.
He’d been making his calls to world leaders two days earlier when President Ling of China had offered to meet with him at any time to discuss the disintegrating relations with North Korea. Ryan sensed that the offer was more than just the typical platitudes that came along with telling someone he was glad he’d not been murdered, so Ryan told Ling he would very much like to get together in China for a private talk.
Ling had said “anytime,” so Ryan proposed three days hence.
The translators had to triple-check that the American President was talking about arriving in Beijing on Saturday. This Saturday.
Within hours of the phone conversation Mary Pat Foley all but burst into Ryan’s hospital room to tell him an Iranian bomb maker had been captured alive near Mexico City, and he had details of an interesting trip to Pyongyang he’d made just prior to his attack on the presidential motorcade. With incontrovertible proof North Korea was involved, the Ryan administration leaked a rumor to take the heat off the Mexican government. Ryan ordered Justice and DNI to hold most of the details they had, because he wanted to exploit the information at a time and place of his own choosing. It was statecraft, and Ryan figured if he had to get blown up, he might as well get something out of it for America in the process.
Ryan and Foley decided Ryan would use this trip to Beijing to pass the intelligence about North Korea’s involvement directly to Chinese President Ling. Ling would be terrified—he would know any action taken by the United States against Pyongyang would destabilize the Korean Peninsula, and he would worry about a war, a refugee crisis, and his own country’s exposure to “guilt by association,” since even though China and North Korea were in the middle of their worst relationship of the past seventy years, North Korea still had no closer friend than its large communist
neighbor to the north.
Ryan wanted Ling to be scared about what actions the U.S. might take for retribution. The more concerned China was about threats to its own national interests, the more inclined they would be to partner with the United States against the criminal regime in Pyongyang.
Then Mary Pat read President Ryan in on Acrid Herald. What had started out as an opportunity to learn about a North Korean mineral processing facility had turned into a major intelligence coup. Right now Hwang Min-ho was on the run in North Korea, attempting to defect, he thought, to the Chinese. If this worked, Ryan knew, he would have someone who could reveal to the world how North Korea’s mineral wealth was being used not for the good of its own people but instead to build up their nuclear missile arsenal. If it all worked as planned, if Hwang made it out and revealed what he knew, then Ryan knew his meeting with President Ling tomorrow would be an opportunity for the two superpowers to work together on a mutual problem.
In the meantime, Ryan just wished he wasn’t such an invalid at the moment. Although he could walk and talk, his left hand was in a cast and his right arm was in a sling. With all the attendants at his disposal, there was no one around here in this office on Air Force One, and he needed to scratch his damn nose, and this put him in an exceptionally foul humor.
—
Adam Yao drove the North Korean–made SUV slowly down the long, straight dirt road at midnight. He went all the way to the end, some mile and a half from the main highway, until he reached the poultry farm. Here he turned off the engine and listened carefully.
Nothing. A few chickens clucking in a coop, the sound of wind through the pine trees thick on the adjacent hillside, but no sound of helicopters racing in.
Adam was scared now, but the kids behind him were asleep. Hwang and his wife spoke softly back and forth. She was frightened still, but Hwang seemed to be doing a better job of calming her than himself, because he appeared to be scared shitless.
Min-hee, the nine-year-old girl, sat up suddenly and looked around, and soon Du-ho did the same. Within seconds Adam heard it as well—it was a high-pitched buzzing, very faint but growing in volume.
It didn’t sound to Adam like an airplane, not even a small one, and it was definitely not a helicopter. Still, he told everyone to get out.
Once they were on the dirt road they heard it better. It was definitely a propeller, and it hummed almost like a lawn mower.
Adam saw it first, but he didn’t know what he was looking at. A winged apparition moved low over the trees, darker than the night sky behind it.
Then Hwang saw it. “What is that?”
It passed directly overhead, then banked tightly, and lined up on the road upon which they stood.
Adam said, “It’s a UAV. A drone.” It was a Predator, which was unquestionably American, but it was doubtful Hwang or his wife would know this. As it neared, Adam was glad to see there was no U.S. flag on the side.
“What is it doing here?” Hwang asked.
“I have absolutely no idea.”
Du-ho pointed into the sky. “There is another one.”
Both Predators landed on the road, one after the other, and then taxied to within fifty feet of Adam Yao.
To himself he said, “You’ve got to be kidding.”
It occurred to him there might be a message or a piece of equipment on the aircraft, so he walked over to the closer one. He saw a large basket hanging from the bottom. It was the size of a loveseat, and it had a pneumatic hatch with a marking that read PULL.
Adam did so, and the device separated like a clamshell, the bottom lowering down about a foot and a half. Adam looked inside. There was LED lighting glowing to help him.
He saw two sleeping bags and a satellite phone.
He snatched the phone and saw that it was blinking; there was already a call coming through.
Adam moved away from Hwang and his family and whispered. “Avalanche.”
“Hello, Avalanche. You are speaking with the tactical operations center on board the USS Freedom. This line is being broadcast to op center TIDALWAVE, and we are watching you from a KH-12.”
“Understood.”
“What is the status of your cargo? We see three adults and two children in addition to yourself.”
“I have six pax total. Three adults including precious cargo and two children.”
“Who is the other adult?”
“I had to bring out an Australian woman. Dr. Powers. She was compromised and in danger.”
There was a pause. “Copy.”
“Is this basket what I think it is?”
“It is a personnel recovery device. Place the adult male in one basket with the male child. Put the two adult women together with the female child. We didn’t know about the Australian. We are expediting the backup UAV to your poz, but be advised, you’ll be waiting there five mikes.”
Adam spoke even softer now so Hwang and his wife could not hear, although they did not speak English. “Is this shit gonna work?”
“Affirmative, Avalanche. Those UAVs are top secret. Code name Freebird. They are tested at three hundred pounds per aircraft, well over the weight requirement needed. The baskets are not pressurized, so the ride will be low and a little bumpy, but it won’t be too bad.”
“Oh . . . okay. Any chance I can squeeze in?”
“Unless your new friend weighs less than forty-five pounds, I do not recommend it. The aircraft becomes unstable above three hundred twenty-five pounds.”
Adam started to speak, but the male voice told him to wait. After a few seconds he came back on the line, his voice more agitated.
“Be advised, Avalanche. We are monitoring military helicopters moving into your sector. Twelve minutes out at current speed. Get that cargo on board, seal the hatch, and go find some cover. We’ll do the rest, sir.”
“Okay.” He was more resolute this time with his reply, not because he now felt much better about flying in the Freebird, but rather because now that he knew DPRK helos were inbound, he felt much worse about standing around here pondering his options.
He ran over to Hwang and spoke in Mandarin. “Quickly. You and your family will fly in these airplanes.”
“Those aren’t airplanes!”
The man did have a point, Adam conceded to himself, but he knew he had to appear steadfast. “They are perfectly safe. We do this all the time.”
“Where are the pilots?”
Adam would have said the pilots were sitting safe and comfortable, maybe thousands of miles away, because he didn’t like this idea one bit, but he needed Hwang to comply.
So instead he said, “You’ll meet them when they land. These are remote-controlled UAVs.”
“I . . . I don’t know.”
“Dae Wonsu’s helicopters will be here in ten minutes. Do you know what will happen if the Army catches you and your family?”
Adam knew his argument was convincing, but he was surprised by the quick one-eighty. Hwang said, “We should go now.”
“Exactly.”
The children were actually the easiest part of the equation. They let Adam pick them up with no complaints. He placed Du-ho into one Predator, and then Hwang climbed in behind him. Adam put Min-hee into the other Predator, and then Dr. Powers climbed in along with Mrs. Hwang.
There was room for one more child in Hwang’s aircraft. But there was not enough room for a CIA officer.
Adam pushed the buttons to close the two baskets. He wanted to say, “Good luck,” but decided against it. Instead, still in Mandarin, he said, “See you in a little while.”
—
The first UAV taxied around, facing away from the direction of the approaching helicopters, and began accelerating up the straight road. The second turned and followed, not one hundred yards behind.
They climbed into the air one after the other
. Adam felt the squeeze of tension in his stomach as they rose toward the green hill.
They disappeared into the night in under a minute.
He heard a voice on the sat phone, which he had lowered while watching the extraction. “Repeat last, Freedom?”
“Be aware, third UAV approaching from south. Get off the road so it can land.”
“Copy that.”
Adam ran over to stand next to the SUV, and he listened for the arriving Predator. When he heard it he could tell it was flying a lot faster than the others, because the pitch was much higher.
The aircraft banked over the hill next to the road, lined up on final approach, and increased its descent.
And then it exploded in a fireball.
Adam shielded his eyes from the light and shouted into the sat phone. “Freedom, you just lost the UAV!”
After a quick pause the reply came. “Roger, Avalanche. Inbound helos took it out with an air-to-air missile. You need to get out of there now!”
Adam dove into the SUV and turned the engine over. He stomped on the gas and raced up the road. Two attack helicopters came over the hill on his right, swooping down at nap-of-the-earth height. They flew over Adam, then banked around hard, and came back in his direction.
He floored it. As he accelerated up the road, the two helos passed on a gun run. Shells rained down on the road right in front of him, but they landed long.
Adam knew he wouldn’t survive another pass. He had a half-mile before getting to the highway, and they could pick him off there just as easily. He had to get out of the SUV and into the trees.
He pushed the engine as fast as the Pronto would go on the straight dirt road, then he popped the transmission into neutral. He opened his door and dove out into the low grass by the road. The SUV continued on.
Adam tumbled end over end, slamming his knee into a rock as he bounced on the earth. As soon as he stopped rolling, he climbed to his feet and limped into the hillside forest.
He heard the helos fire again at the vehicle, and then he heard a huge explosion. The SUV had taken a hit to the gas tank, and now it burned in the road behind him.