Kill Chain (4 page)

The Italian Prime
Minister’s wife suddenly occupied the seat beside her. She took Nancy’s hand
and squeezed it. “Are you okay, dear?”

Nancy shook out a nod,
her entire trembling body betraying the lie.

She yelped as a voice
came over the speaker.

“Greetings to our
honored guests. First, we would like the members of your security detail to
please cease any efforts to open the doors. Any attempt to do so will result in
the explosives attached to the undercarriage detonating. We would hate to see you
all die so uselessly.”

Nancy watched in horror
as the agent at the door continued his efforts.

“For the love of God,
listen to him!” screamed someone, the Korean tour guide firing off a flurry of curt
words at the man who abruptly stopped.

“Thank you. Might we
suggest that next time, you make certain your security detail understands
English? It just might save your lives.”

The guard glared at the
speaker.

Oh, he speaks English.

“Interesting, just too
stupid to listen, then.”

Nancy searched for a
camera, it clear they were being watched, but found none.

“You will find that
none of your phones will be able to get a signal. We are jamming everything
except our own.”

Nancy glanced at her
phone and noticed the
No Signal
indicator, an immediate sense of claustrophobia
setting in as she realized how isolated from her support network she suddenly
was.

“
Please sit back and
enjoy the ride. We will be reaching our destination shortly.”

There was a pause as Nancy
peered out the window, wondering where that destination might be, the city
continuing to pass, the traffic around them, the pedestrians on the street,
ignorant of their plight.

“
And remember, you are
being watched. Constantly.”

Two drones whipped past her
window. She looked behind and noticed two more. A quick glance over to the
other side of the bus showed several others.

We’re surrounded!

“We’re going to be okay.”

Nancy glanced at the
Italian woman who was trying to comfort her, the woman’s terror obvious, her
eyes wide, her cheeks flushed, her grip tight.

Then she started to hum a
song.

Seriously?

COEX
Convention & Exhibition Center
Seoul,
Republic of Korea

“Status?”

Dawson climbed into the
rear of the armored limousine, Atlas slamming the door shut and getting into
the front, the motorcade accelerating hard the moment the last foot cleared the
cement of the conference center’s underground parking. A large contingent of
motorcycle police and squad cars immediately met them as the emergency
evacuation of nineteen world leaders unfolded, he having no doubt the officers
on the ground had rehearsed this scenario, fully expecting it never to happen.

And yet it was.

“We’re finding that out
now, Mr. President,” said Dawson as he grabbed a handhold, the driver operating
under orders not to worry about comfort, speed of the essence.

“Are we going back to the
hotel?”

“Negative. Protocol
dictates the embassy in this situation. If they’ve managed to take your
daughter and the others, we have to assume all security precautions have been
compromised. The embassy is the only place we can be certain is secure since
all security inside is our responsibility.”

“What do we know?”

Atlas turned from the
passenger seat, just having received an update. “Not much yet, Mr. President.
The security vehicles accompanying the bus were apparently hit by a fuel truck,
and the bus continued on. The GPS tracker has been disabled, and the security
team on board isn’t responding.”

“Do we know where the bus
is?”

Dawson could hear the
panic creeping into the voice of the most powerful man in the world. And he
didn’t blame him. He had never liked the idea of a driverless bus ferrying so
many VIPs around, yet his concerns had been overridden by the White House
staff’s unwillingness to offend their South Korean hosts.

He just hoped those poor
souls didn’t pay the price for political correctness.

He exchanged a glance
with Atlas.

“Not yet, sir. Emergency
vehicles are responding and aerial units are deploying. We’ll find them, Mr.
President.”

Starling looked at
Dawson. “I can’t lose my daughter too.” His voice was subdued, it almost
cracking.

Dawson nodded. “I’m not
going to make you any promises, Mr. President, except that if you give us free
rein, we’ll do whatever it takes to get her back.”

Starling’s jaw squared as
he drew in a breath, staring at Dawson.

“Consider yourselves
unleashed.”

En route
to the Embassy
Seoul, Republic
of Korea

Niner’s
fingernails dug deeper into the dash as Ji-yeon weaved in and out of traffic,
he beginning to question whether her Kia Morning had a brake pedal installed.

And the harrowing
experience was made all the worse by her penchant for staring at Jimmy in the
rearview mirror.

“Eyes on the road!”

“Calm down, I know what
I’m doing!”

“I’ve been trained for
this and I don’t even know what you’re doing!”

“They teach soldiers how
to drive like this?”

“Some of them.”

“What is it you do?”

Niner ignored the
question, his job Top Secret, his cover an honorable logistics clerk. The less
his family and loved ones knew about his real life, the safer they all were. If
his enemies were to know his true identity, they could kidnap his family and
try to use them as leverage to get what they wanted.

That was why only spouses
knew.

And he definitely didn’t
have one of those.

Someday.

With Dawson and Atlas
starting to settle down, some of the other guys already having done so long
ago, the thought had occurred to him, but he was having too much fun being
single.

You’re only young
once.

Besides, he hadn’t met
anyone he’d exactly consider marriage material.

Including yourself!

His phone vibrated and he
swiped his thumb over the display, recognizing Dawson’s number. “One-One.”

“It’s me. Status?”

“We’re heading into the
city now.”

“ETA?”

“With the way my cousin’s
driving, we’re either never going to make it, or we’re going to break the space-time
continuum and arrive there before it happens. You?”

“We’re about to arrive at
the embassy. Once the President is secure, we’ll head to the crash site. I’ve
sent coordinates to your phone. Meet us there.”

“Roger that.”

Dawson ended the call and
Niner opened the message, bringing up the map. He held it on the dash so Ji-yeon
could see the display. “Can you get us to Noksapyeong Road?”

Ji-yeon glanced at the
display a little too long for Niner’s liking, then nodded. “Sure.” She suddenly
locked up the brakes then spun the wheel hard, pulling a 180 before hammering
on the gas again, driving the wrong way for almost a hundred feet before
jumping a curb and forcing her way into the flow, a cloud of dust and scorched
pavement in her wake.

Niner heard someone
screaming and glanced back at Jimmy.

“You can stop screaming
now.”

Niner looked at Ji-yeon and
realized the scream was coming from him. He jabbed a finger at her. “Next time,
I drive.”

“You’d get lost.”

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t
need to change my shorts.”

Embassy
of the United States Seoul
32
Sejongno Street, Seoul, Republic of Korea

Dawson
checked the hallway in either direction before closing the doors of the embassy’s
command center. It was nothing compared to the Operations Centers at the Unit
or Langley, though it was respectable nonetheless, what with their proximity to
one of the world’s few rogue nations with nuclear weapons. Embassy staff manned
every terminal, all, he was certain, highly trained in their jobs.

“Mr. President, I’m happy
to see you’re safe.”

Dawson surveyed the
displays as his second in command and best friend, Master Sergeant Mike “Red”
Belme, greeted their VIP.

“Any word on my
daughter—and the others?”

“Sir, this is what we
know.” Red turned and pointed at a large display showing aerial footage of the
crash scene. A fuel truck was fully involved, the two security vehicles that
had been escorting the automated bus barely recognizable. Fire crews were
steadily dousing the flames, a heavy police presence evident as the roads were blocked,
the crime scene taped off. “Both the leading and trailing escorts were involved
in a multi-vehicle accident with this fuel truck.”

“That’s not the bus?”

“No, sir.”

Starling gasped a sigh of
relief, Dawson realizing for the first time that a terrified father’s mind
could have easily imagined a passenger bus instead of the flaming fuel truck.
Starling searched for a chair, an aide immediately pushing one toward him. He
dropped into it, his shoulders sagging for a moment. He stared up at Red. “Then
wh-where is it? Where’s the bus?”

 “There’s no sign of the
bus.”

Starling opened his mouth
but Red continued.

“For the moment, we’re
treating that as good news. At this point in time, we have no reason to believe
any harm has come to your daughter.”

“But you don’t know where
they are?”

“Not yet, sir. We’re
patching in with Langley now, and air and ground assets are deploying from Osan
Air Base to assist in the search.” Red paused, lowering his voice slightly, the
man himself a father. “Sir, this is a wired, modern city. They’ll have been
caught on camera. We’ll find them, track them, and retrieve your daughter.”

“Has anyone made any
demands yet?”

“No.”

Dawson squatted so he
could look his President in the eyes, man-to-man. The fear and panic were
evident, and he needed this man, the leader of the free world, thinking
straight. “Mr. President, no word from whoever is responsible could be a good
thing. They won’t make their demands until they’ve secured the hostages. The
fact we haven’t heard anything means they haven’t done so yet. That means
there’s still time to find them.”

Starling nodded, his
breathing slowing slightly as he squared his shoulders. He rose, glancing about
the room for a moment before turning to Dawson and putting a hand on his
shoulder. “Find my daughter and bring her back to me.” He leaned closer,
lowering his voice. “Do whatever it takes. I’ll clean up any mess you make.”

Dawson allowed a slight
smile.

“Understood.”