I squeezed past it. Ducked down next to the bleach container.
Waited, concealed by the turn.
"They're into orange zone, almost to the others. Don't believe they can see the hallway entrance anymore."
Didn't sound very confident, but life in the Rangers is not without its little risks. "Thanks. That's helpful."
Heaved the container of bleach onto my shoulder like a longboard.
Turned the hallway corner.
Took both arms to keep the bleach awkwardly balanced there, but was thankful for the intense ruck training I'd survived in RASP. Thirty days gave muscles time to heal, but not enough to lose their tone, especially with daily workouts in the diamond palace.
Scanned past the office door. Toward the end of the hallway.
No one waiting to shoot me.
So far, so good.
"Four of them are together. Examining the wrecked aisles. Maybe looking for a way through."
"Doctor, need you to find me a large experiment. Something with a lot of molten metal."
"Oh, but you'll ruin our work. Months of effort, gone!"
"Better that than those four ruin us. Also, is there a large fan nearby?"
Quelling her protests, I lugged the bleach down to the other end of the hallway.
Took a quick look in both directions.
No enemy forces in sight.
Just a maze of yellow lines, experiments, and stacks of equipment to navigate.
Luckily, I had a native guide with eyes in the sky whispering in my earpiece.
Set down the bleach. Followed her directions.
Peeked around each corner.
Stayed low. Kept out of sight. No noise.
Acquired an industrial extension cord. Pocketed a roll of duct tape. Moved a big box fan.
Slid the bleach over to a furnace table with pans of liquid roasting metal.
Components gathered, I plugged the box fan in. Pointed it across pans of bubbling metal, aimed to cover a short aisle just past a turn, with the other edges blocked by tall stacks of equipment and materials.
Coiled the extension cord.
Tossed it up to uncoil in a loop over a steel girder.
Tied the dangling end to the handle of the ten gallon container of bleach.
With a little jiggering, I worked them over to a spot above the pans of molten metal.
Even from a few feet away, the heat toasted my hands and face.
The radiating heat would've been pretty nice, if I'd just come in from the cold outside, but my recent physical exertions already had my blood boiling.
"They've given up getting through. Coming back toward blue zone."
"Almost ready. Let me know when they'll turn the corner in front of me."
Knelt behind the fan. Held the end of the extension cord to keep the container in the air.
This better work. No time to test.
The metal furnace sat next to the quickest path from brown zone back to blue zone, so I only needed a little luck.
The aisle I hoped they'd take would lead them around the corner.
Right past the experiment.
If they used a different route, the Doc could warn me, but they'd likely get past me and into the blue zone, where I'd have to figure out how to take them out from behind.
We'd cross that bridge only if we came to it.
Two escape routes from my position.
Another aisle behind me led toward the personnel mantrap and the administrative offices.
A gap between a steel table and a filing cabinet interrupted the stacks of equipment on my right flank. That connected up with the aisle to blue zone in front of the experiment.
Bet they kept the detailed records of the experiment I was about to ruin in that filing cabinet.
"Close to the turn."
Switched the fan on full blast.
The air passing over the molten pans would cool them a little, but not enough to matter, not in the seconds left.
The first two DPRK spec ops soldiers leap-frogged around the corner.
I released the extension cord.
The bottom of the plastic container evaporated into black smoke.
Released bleach boiled with a sizzle, causing it to flash into vapor form.
The cloud of gas expanded.
Smelled garlic, so I turned and sprinted away.
Ducked around the metal cabinet for cover.
The thump of K2 semi-auto rounds. Cabinet shook from the impacts.
Good reaction time for the front two, but a prepared individual can beat a team.
I scooted away. Stayed out of sight below the tops of the scientific equipment.
Needed time to let things work.
After a few seconds, I heard coughing and anguished speech.
Army crawled back.
Glanced around the bottom corner of the stainless steel lab table. Ready to duck back or overturn it for cover if they spotted me.
Thick clouds of yellow-green gas surrounded the two leading soldiers.
The two men farther away had also turned the corner. Breathed in the gas's edge.
The pure mustard gas worked.
After blowing it into their faces, the breeze generated by the fan began dispersing the clouds. Spread the vaporized bleach into lower doses diffused across the rest of the open area.
The two soldiers closest to the fan and furnace dropped their weapons to the floor, scattered and forgotten.
One soldier bent over. Attempted to retch as he rubbed his eyes.
The other spun in a slow circle. Coughed. Clawed at his throat.
With the gas in their lungs, neither would breathe well for a while.
One of two soldiers farther from my makeshift trap rested on his belly next to his rifle, coughing. Reached back and pulled a canteen off his belt.
The other leaned against an electric crane, eyes watering, tearing his eyelids apart. Swung his elbows for his surroundings, alert for dangers he couldn't see.
The garlicky mustard smell faded as fast as the fan scattered the fumes.
I circled around the aisle leading toward blue zone.
Approached the group from behind.
Might have a small permanent loss of lung capacity, but they'd recover basic functions soon enough.
Walked on the outside edges of my boots to minimize the noise.
Approached behind the one I'd seen on the phone with Rhee earlier.
Easy target, bending over to retch.
Almost reached the furnace table covered in molten metal.
Side-kicked him in the back of the knees.
His legs and waist folded forward.
Grabbed his arms. Pulled them behind his back. Used upward elbow pressure to force him the rest of the way to the ground.
Ripped pieces of tape with my teeth. Secured his wrists and ankles behind his back.
Picked up his imitation K2.
Checked the selector and magazine.
Ready to fire.
One of the farther soldiers, the one already on his belly, recovered enough from coughing to grab up his rifle and blast in my direction.
I'd spent too much time dealing with the closest soldier.
Despite apparently missing much of the gas by hitting the floor quickly when it first appeared, he still couldn't aim well through watery eyes, at least by spec op standards.
One of his rounds slapped me across the top of my left shoulder.
Searing pain.
Like someone laid a red-hot poker across my shoulder.
Focus.
Life-saving tasks only.
I returned the favor, with interest. Aim unaffected by chlorine gas, my two rounds impacted him in the face.
Tight grouping.
The most immediate threat dealt with, shock settled in.
All I could do to collapse to the floor.
Roll over under the furnace table.
Watch my two remaining enemies attempt to recover.
My ba
ck baked from the furnace's residual heat above me.
Wouldn't survive staying here very long.
* * *
Kwon peeked out of the data center room door.
No one in sight.
He fully opened the steel door.
Stepped into the deserted hallway.
His team better be all right, but they were level 10,000 guys with experience south of the DMZ. Could take care of themselves.
Right now he needed to do his part.
Get the pile of storage drive shelves stacked inside the data center door out to the truck.
He spotted an electric forklift parked at the end of the blue zone hallway.
Perfect!
Hustling down the hall toward the forklift, he tried Stro on the radio. "One to Two. Status?"
Only static in response.
Kwon shrugged. Maybe the metal in the lab equipment and the walls blocked their transmissions.
Reaching the forklift, he found the key ready to go.
Did one of his men leave it parked here for him?
Either way, he had no time to lose.
No room in the hallway to turn around, either.
He switched on the forklift. Shifted it into reverse. Looked over his shoulder.
Drove backwards.
Returned to red zone and the data center doorway.
Funny, no beeping noise, unlike the forklifts in the North.
Nice driving skills, though. Only scraped the walls twice.
With the forks situated in front of the data center door, he tried again. "Repeat. One to Two. Status?"
This time, a faint signal, "Abort. Get out … can. … follow."
Stro and the other men must've run into resistance from the locals. Their unfaithful contact better not have turned traitor on them! "Confirmed. One departing. Remainder of Goshawk to follow A-SAP."
Focus on the mission.
If he succeeded, the others would be fine.
He'd get the truck loaded. By then they'd surely be ready to depart.
Might even make it back to help load.
Kwon muscled one shelf of drives over to prop the data center door open.
He'd grab that one last.
Lugged each set of storage drives out. Stacked them flat on top of the forks.
The forks were tilted up about 10 degrees, so gravity kept the shelves nicely in place against the backrest.
He stacked the last metal shelf. Let the door bang shut.
The rear wheels definitely felt lighter, the forklift's counterweight just barely enough to keep the forks from pulling the whole machine forward.
He'd drive carefully.
Slowly backed up until he was safely in the red zone open area.
Turned in a slow curve.
Stopped to face the emergency exit and the cargo mantrap.
Leaving the forklift behind, he stepped out and swiped the badge he'd taken from the dead guard across the RFID reader for the mantrap.
It blinked red. Must be malfunctioning or something.
Checked his surroundings.
The security office door was closed!
Outside, a bundle taped up in black garbage bags.
Someone had been here. Might even still be in the security office.
Couldn't let them cut him off. Not when he was so close to mission accomplished!
Kwon hopped back into the forklift.
Leaned back in the seat.
Kept the weight distributed to the rear.
Only one try.
He pressed down the accelerator.
Pointed the forks at the emergency exit.
The forklift moved forward.
Picked up speed.
He'd reached a slow walking pace, so he eased off. Kept the pace level.
Lined up carefully with the exit.
The second to the top shelf in the stack of drives hit the waist-level crossbar.
Unlocked the door.
Triggered the emergency alarm. A siren whooped.
The door burst outward.
If the crash in brown zone hadn't disturbed the rest of the lab's guard force, the emergency exit alarm would alert them something was going on.
The forklift cleared the doorway. Made it out to the loading dock with his cargo intact!
Kwon pumped his fist into the air once.
Which unbalanced the forklift a little. Caused it to curve to the side on the wet pavement. Caused the shelves, not tied down with anything, to slide to the side, starting at the top.
He grabbed the wheel with both hands.
Course-corrected in the opposite direction until the forklift and its load mostly straightened out again. Braked to a stop.
Scanned his surroundings.
No one had seen his minor embarrassment.
No time to celebrate early, that's for sure.
The crack of several pairs of shots echoed from inside.
Must be his men defeating the enemy. They'd be here any minute; he'd be ready to leave when they were.
Kwon took cautious aim at the back of the truck, already open against the loading dock.
Drove right up to it, front wheels barely short of the concrete cliff, drive shelves suspended by forks over the truck bed. Gripping the hydraulic lever with a minimum of force, he lowered the forks almost to the bed.
In the warm server exhaust of the data center, he'd forgotten how cold it was out here.
Frozen pebbles rained from the sky.
Climbed out of the forklift.
Clambered through the side of the truck bed. Flipped up the rear seats designed for people.
Had more precious cargo to carry now.
He unloaded the shelves into the truck bed as fast as his groaning muscles allowed.
Backed the forklift off.
Closed the tailgate.
Got in the driver's seat.
Removed his tactical vest. Tossed it down between the seats in the cab.
Started the big diesel engine with a roar.
The whooping alarm from the emergency exit annoyed him. Reminded him Goshawk was exposed.
No sign of his men.
Well, Stro said they'd follow as soon as they could. His priority remained the data in those drives. His uncle always said the needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few.
He put the truck into drive. Pulled away down the alley. They'd have to find their own way.
Turning right from the alley on to the main road took him past the entrance to the parking lot and the lab's front door.
Men in American uniforms gathered around the security checkpoint just inside. Argued with one of the local guards.
After a moment of debate, they pointed rifles at the guard, who responded by falling back in surrender of whatever point they'd been arguing.
Barely made it out in time. Nothing he could have done for the others.
Besides, they had all the experience on the team. He was the new one to the South.
Unable to connect back together, it was every man for himself.
The street outside the lab should have at least some traffic, but the police had stripped it bare.
A block ahead, a group of police lined the edges of the road; little white cars with blue stripes and blinking red and blue light bars shooting colored rays through the snow.
Pedestrians on the wide sidewalk held their arms under their puffy-coat armpits behind a makeshift barricade of neon yellow tape with black lettering.
The tape stretched between the building shutter and the light pole next to the street's curb.
He aimed for an opening between police cars.
An officer stepped up to the driver's side as he arrived at the blockade.
He waved a clipboard of paperwork at them.
Ignored the whistles to stop.
Apparently, it and his South Korean military uniform alleviated their fears.
The whistling subsided. No police pursued.
Sleet turned into a thick snow, hea
vy in the air, sticking to everything.
No further word from Stro.
Kwon wasn't sure exactly where he was going.
Left the shopping area. Entered a residential district.
Virtually brand new mansions everywhere. This area diverged in style from the five story block-sized apartment buildings.
Must be where the super-elite lived, each family in their own massive thousand-square-foot estate.
Driving past a playground, he watched a little girl wearing a cartoon panda on her coat, couldn't have been more than six, rolling up snow into a ball.
Icicles drooped from the bare branches of the nearby trees.
For some reason, Kwon couldn't get the image of the guard's last breath out of his mind.
He shoved his boot into the brake pedal.
The truck slid to a halt in the snow and ice.
He shifted into park.
Opened the truck door.
Leaned over just in time to projectile vomit out onto the cold street.
The back of his throat burned from the residue of stomach acid.
Gathering fresh snow off the truck's hood, he melted it in his throat. Took the immediate pain away. Wiped his face with the back of his hand.
Felt a little better.
The little panda girl raced across the snow to stand next to the road. Pointed at his truck. Military vehicles weren't common in the residential areas of Seoul.
Another mistake.
For strict operational security, he should do something about the child as a potential witness who might go running to tell her parents what she'd seen.
Kwon could've had a niece like her if South Korean border guards hadn't murdered his brother and his brother's wife.
Instead, he chose to just wave innocently and shift the truck back into drive.
At least he had the data. The guard didn't die in vain.
Stro and the others might still make it, but either way they weren't sacrifices for a failed mission.
As long as Kwon delivered the knowledge in the back of the truck, their offerings were worth it.
Chapter Nineteen: Getting Fresh
The initial scorch of pain in my shoulder vanished under a new burst of adrenalin.
I half-slid, half-crawled backward. Farther under the furnace table.
The air entering my lungs got hotter.
My shoulder might hurt like hell once the adrenalin wore off, but for the moment, I needed to function.
Two down, two more to go.
"Lieutenant? There's another one I haven't seen before. He drove the forklift back this way, but with the cameras out in red zone, I can't see what he's doing now."
Techno Ranger Page 18