Kill Chain (34 page)

It was a good day.

If only for this moment,
in this field.

Dawson stepped over to
the happy pair, Starling holding out his hand before the man could speak.
“Thank you for saving my daughter, Sergeant Major.”

Dawson shook his hand.
“I’m afraid I can’t take the credit, Mr. President.” He motioned toward the
Asian member of the team who appeared sad and angry, some of his comrades comforting
him. “The sergeant deserves the credit.

“Niner saved us all,
Daddy.”

Starling debated going
over to thank the man, but something was wrong. “What happened?”

Dawson frowned. “We lost
someone. South Korean.”

“His girlfriend.”

Starling’s eyes widened.

“I’ll explain it all
later, Daddy.”

Starling nodded. “Well,
you tell him that I thank him, and will talk to him personally when he’s
ready.”

“He’ll appreciate that,
Mr. President. Now, we’ve got a twenty on Riker. Permission to bring this to an
end?”

Starling leaned in,
lowering his voice. “Kill the bastard.”

Dawson smiled. “You can
count on it.”

Maggie
Harris Residence
Lake in
the Pines Apartments, Fayetteville, North Carolina

“Oh my
God, that’s Red.”

Maggie bolted awake,
everyone still clustered in her living room as the kids slept in the bedroom, the
adults taking shifts monitoring the television.

It was Shirley’s turn.

Everyone was awake now
and Shirley backed up the CNN coverage on the DVR. “Watch!”

“We have footage just
arriving at our studios from a South Korean amateur photographer purporting to
show the President arriving at an evacuation point, apparently unharmed. Now I
must warn you, CNN has been unable to confirm its authenticity, and until this
moment, we had been led to believe that President Starling was safely in Busan,
far from the chaos of Seoul.”

As the talking head
spoke, a shaky video played showing a group of soldiers pouring out of the back
of some sort of armored vehicle, followed by a man in a suit that Vanessa identified
as the President, but Maggie didn’t care.

She was searching for
Dawson.

And not seeing him.

Though there was no doubt
Red and Wings were safe. She turned to Shirley and reached out, squeezing her
arm. “I’m so happy for you.”

She smiled, tears rolling
down her cheeks. “Th-thank you. Did you see BD?”

Maggie shook her head.
“I’m sure he’s fine.”

“I don’t see Leon. Does
anyone see Leon?”

Maggie frowned, Atlas not
yet spotted by anyone. “I don’t see BD either, or Niner or Jimmy for that
matter.”

“There’s my Will!” cried
Spock’s wife, hugging Shirley.

“There’s only two of them
there, but that doesn’t mean anything.”

“They’re all dead! That’s
what it means!”

Maggie rose and walked
over to where Vanessa was sitting, rocking back and forth in her chair, hugging
her knees. “No, they’re not,” Maggie said gently, putting an arm around her
shoulders. “Did you see the President’s daughter?”

Vanessa paused, staring
at the screen. “N-no.”

“Neither did I. Now don’t
you think the others are with her? The President would want his best men with
his daughter. He had Red’s team with him, and BD’s team with Nancy.”

“But she’s been
kidnapped. They don’t know where she is!”

“Right, but do you
honestly believe the President would leave without his daughter? There’s no
way. He’s got BD and the others looking for her. I’m sure we’ll hear very
shortly that she’s okay, and that they’re with her.”

Vanessa sighed, her
rocking stopped. She stared up at Maggie with tear-filled eyes. “How do you
keep it together? Aren’t you worried sick?”

Maggie patted Vanessa’s
shoulder. “Of course I am, but this is the job. I have to trust that he’s okay
until I’m told otherwise. If not, I’d be going crazy every time he deployed.”
She dropped to a knee, eye-level with Vanessa. “Look, how many times has he
been gone since you’ve been dating?”

Vanessa shrugged. “I
don’t know. Dozens?”

“Right, and he’s come
back every single time.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t know he
was going into combat until a few weeks ago.”

Maggie smiled. “Yes, but
he was heading into danger every other time as well, and nothing happened.
Look, don’t let knowing what he does ruin your life. You have to embrace it. Be
proud of your man, of what he does, and cherish those times when he’s actually
with you even more.”

“Why, because it might be
the last time I ever see him?”

Maggie shook her head, a
slight smile on her face. “You’re really a glass is half-empty kind of gal,
aren’t you?”

A flash of anger appeared
on Vanessa’s face and she opened her mouth to say something before she paused,
a puzzled look on her face.

Then a stifled laugh
escaped.

Then another. She fought it
but failed, suddenly erupting in laughter, flopping back in her chair and
holding her stomach. Maggie felt her own resistance tumbling away and she too
began to laugh.

And within moments, the
entire room was laughing, a set of sleepy children emerging from the hallway,
rubbing their eyes, staring at their crazy parents.

Over
the Yellow Sea

Dawson
watched the water streak by below them, the chopper far faster than any yacht,
there zero chance their target would reach Chinese waters first. And despite international
law stating what they were about to do was technically illegal, there wasn’t a
person there who cared.

Grant Riker, formerly of
Riker Defensive Systems, was going to die.

He was officially now on
the President’s Termination List.

A terrorist.

A clear and present
danger to the United States of America, and its citizens.

He was already dead, he
just didn’t know it yet.

“There it is, sir!”

Dawson leaned forward and
peered through the cockpit window, an impressive yacht just ahead, lit by a
full moon and a clear sky. “Christ, must be nice to be rich.”

“Yes, sir. She’s being
challenged now, sir.”

Dawson watched an Apache
gunship tear past them, its 30 mm M230E1 Chain Gun opening up on the water
ahead of the yacht, the ship’s wake rapidly diminishing as the crew brought
their vessel to a halt. The Apache dropped to just above the waves, turning to
face the ship, cannons and weapons pods bristling, should the captain decide to
try and make an unwise break for it. The crew slowly emerged onto the deck,
hands up, the Apache’s pilot obviously giving them orders over its loudspeaker.

“Get me on that deck!”

“Yes, sir!”

The pilot descended,
positioning them over the deck as one of the aircrew yanked open the door,
tossing out a rope. Dawson grabbed it and jumped out the side, quickly
rappelling to the heaving deck below. His feet hit and he cleared the rope, his
MP5 already aimed at the crew as the others dropped around him.

“Find Riker!”

The men fanned out and
Dawson stepped toward the captain of the vessel, his crisp white uniform
stained with sweat. “Where is he?”

The man shook his head
rapidly, clearly terrified, his eyes focused on the muzzle of the submachine
gun. “H-he not here.”

“Bullshit.”

“No, no bullshit. He
left.”

“When?”

“Half hour ago.”

“How?”

“Sub.”

Dawson’s eyes narrowed.
“What?”

“Sub. Submarine.”

Dawson stared at the crew,
everyone nodding. “This yacht has a submarine?”

“Yes.”

He activated his comm.
“Anybody got eyes on something that suggests there was a submarine on board?”

Spock’s voice responded
immediately. “I’m not sure what I’m looking at, but there’s some serious James
Bond shit going on down here that might be some sort of dock for a sub.”

Dawson cursed. “Control,
Zero-One. It looks like our target escaped in some sort of mini-sub. We’re
going to need some help finding it, over.”

“Copy that, Zero-One.”

“What do you want us to
do with the crew?”

Those in question suddenly
appeared nervous.

“Are they involved?”

Atlas appeared from one
of the doors, shaking his head. “He had a whack of computer horsepower in one
of the cabins, but only one chair. Looks like a one-man show.”

Dawson nodded. “Negative,
Control. Looks like he was the puppet master using the Internet to pull all the
strings from here.”

“Incredible. Looks like
the sharing economy has branched out into the hostage taking and revenge
business.”

“Looks that way. When no
one knows the big picture, they don’t think the little thing they’re doing is
that important.”

“Agreed, Zero-One. Gather
up their equipment, it might help us find the money he transferred, then let
the ship and crew go. You may be in international waters, but it’s a Chinese-flagged
vessel so technically you’re pirates right now.”

“Roger that. Zero-One,
out.” He looked at the others. “Bag and tag everything. We’re out of here in
ten.”

“Arr matey,” growled
Jagger, sounding more Johnny Depp than pirate.

Niner slammed his fist
into the wall, ending the mood.

And Dawson didn’t blame
him for a second.

Fast
Attack Submarine USS Chicago, Yellow Sea

“Sir,
sonar contact off the port bow, heading two-eight-zero at five knots, range
three-hundred yards, depth fifty feet.” The sonar operator turned to his XO.
“It’s small, sir. Could be what we’re looking for.”

Captain Jonathan Brandis
made his way to the sonar station. “You’re sure it’s not a whale, Jack, I don’t
want Greenpeace getting all pissed off if we blow this thing out of the water.”

Jack smiled. “No, sir,
it’s definitely a vessel. I can hear its screws. It doesn’t match anything
we’ve got on file and it’s within the search radius.”

“Okay, let’s get her
attention. Ping her.”

“Aye, Captain.”

A single ping echoed
through the hull, chills racing up Jack’s spine, as it would any submariner who
had experienced the receiving end.

“Status?”

Jack stared at his
readings, frowning. “It didn’t change course or speed, Captain.” He looked up
at his commanding officer, surprised. “I think it’s ignoring us!”

“Ping it again.”

Another loud echo of the
distinctive pulse vibrated through the ship.

And again nothing.

Jack shook his head. “I’m
sorry, Captain. Nothing.”

A burst of frustration
erupted from Captain Brandis. “XO, if we ram that thing, what kind of damage
are we looking at?”

“I’ve reviewed the specs,
Captain. It’d be a fly on our proverbial windshield.”

Brandis smiled. “Do it.”

“Aye, Captain.” The XO
turned, barking orders to the crew. “Conn, make your course two-eight-zero,
speed ten knots.”