Kill Chain (5 page)

2941 Restaurant
Falls
Church, Virginia

“How the
hell did you do that?”

Chris Leroux glanced down
at his lap, a carefully painted toe briefly visible before disappearing into
his pants. He dropped his napkin in his lap, nervously looking around at the
customers and staff of the rather upscale restaurant, before turning his attention
to his girlfriend sitting across from him in the booth.

“Do what?” asked Sherrie
White coyly, a Cheshire grin on full display.

He leaned forward,
lowering his voice, though not before stealing another look to see if their
after dinner games had been noticed. “Work a zipper with your toes!”

“You like it.”

“Of course, I like it. I
just don’t like the venue.”

“Why?” Sherrie stopped
moving her foot and regarded the view from their corner booth. “It’s quite nice
here. Good food, good service, nice ambiance.” Leroux gave her a look. She
smiled. “Great table, tucked away where no one can see us.”

Suddenly her special
request for this booth when she made the reservations made sense.

She’s so bad!

And he loved it.

If there were one word to
describe him, it wouldn’t be bad. He was a nerd, geek, dork—whatever word the
kids were calling it these days. Extremely bright, sometimes awkward,
especially around women, he was not in Sherrie’s league—at least that’s what he
had been telling himself since they met.

On the job.

He was CIA, an analyst at
the time, now an Analyst Supervisor, she a junior agent sent in to seduce him,
to see if he would spill his secrets. He had barely passed the test, his
experience with women to that point nearly non-existent beyond websites Utah was
trying to ban.

Sherrie had changed all
that.

They had fallen in love,
moved in together, and he was a better man for it.

And that was the key
word.

Man.

He had always felt like a
shy boy until her, and now he led a team of ten at CIA Headquarters and had an
incredibly beautiful and sexy CIA Agent with whom to share his life.

His eyes widened.

“Waiter.”

“Well, maybe
he
can see us.”

“No, I mean
waiter!
”

Her foot darted from his
crotch.

“Anything for dessert?”

Sherrie smiled at him. “I
think I’ve got that covered.”

Leroux flushed. “Umm, no
thanks, just the bill.”

“Very well, sir.”

The waiter walked away,
Sherrie’s foot darting back into his lap.

“You’re terrible.”

“I know.”

“You realize I have to
stand and walk out of this place.”

Her foot moved a little faster,
a grin on her face.

“Please!” he hissed.

She stopped. “You’re no
fun.”

“You’re too much fun. And
why are you so damned frisky?”

“I’ve got an assignment
tomorrow, you know that. I’m heading to Seoul for some preliminary security
screening before the Secretary of State arrives for the G20 follow up.”

“Yeah, well save it for
the bedroom.”

She leaned forward,
running her foot up his leg. “Baby, you’re in for a jolly good rogering long
before we make it to the bedroom.”

Leroux gulped. “Just what
the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means we’re taking
advantage of those tinted windows when we get to the parking lot.”

Her foot dropped to the
floor as the waiter appeared, placing the bill holder on the table. “Whenever
you’re ready.”

“Just a sec.” Leroux fumbled
for his wallet, trying not to reveal his exposed nether regions, leaning
forward awkwardly as he removed his credit card. The waiter handed him the
machine and he pushed his Visa in the slot.

Sherrie tried to force
her foot into his own slot and he shut her down, snapping his legs shut.

Her lips shot out in a
pout.

Approved.

He removed his card and
handed the machine back, a receipt printing at an interminable pace. A quick rip
and it was handed over.

“You two have a lovely
evening.”

“Oh, we will,” replied
Sherrie, never taking her eyes off Leroux. The waiter walked away and Sherrie
leaned in. “Let’s go.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I could carry a dozen
donuts with no hands.”

“A dozen! Impressive!
That’s something we’re going to have to test.”

“You’re certifiable.”

“And you love it.”

Leroux shrugged, his head
bobbing. “I do. I just never realized that you’d be the Dylan Kane in this
relationship.”

“I guess spies like us
can never get enough.”

Leroux grinned. “Funny
movie.”

“Don’t get off topic.”

“Hon, if I don’t, we’re
never leaving this booth.”

“Just cover it with your
jacket.” She winked. “If you can, that is. A dozen donuts is a lot.”

Leroux blushed. “Let’s
get out of here.”

“I’ll need my foot back.”

He felt his ears burn as
he opened his legs.

Her foot immediately darted
up, her toes going to work, a distinct “zip” heard.

Unbelievable!

His phone vibrated on the
table. He glanced at the call display and frowned. “It’s the office.”

“Ugh. Don’t they know I’m
horny?”

“I think it’s a standing
order at Langley.”

She kicked him.
“Careful.”

He chuckled, swiping his
thumb to take the call.

“Sir, we’re going to need
you to come in right away.”

Sherrie’s foot resumed
its adventures.

He could recognize the
excitement in his underling Randy Child’s voice, though the younger analyst—by
only a few years—had the habit of getting excited about most things that
tweaked his interest.

He’s like you five
years ago.

“What’s wrong?”

“The G20 spouses have
been kidnapped.”

“What!” Leroux’s hand
grabbed Sherrie’s foot, ending her teasing. She immediately sensed things were
serious, removing her foot and sitting upright. “What about the First
Daughter?”

“She’s missing too.”

“Christ, I’ll be right
there.”

He ended the call,
shoving the phone in his pocket.

“What’s going on?”

“The G20 spouses have
been kidnapped including the President’s daughter.”

Sherrie’s phone vibrated
and she grabbed it, a brief one-sided conversation ending after only a few
seconds. She pocketed her phone. “Looks like I’m heading for Seoul early.” She
grinned at him, her eyes widening suggestively. “But there’s still time to
squeeze in a quickie in the parking lot.”

Noksapyeong
Road
Seoul,
Republic of Korea

“Go
home.”

“But what if you need a
ride?”

Niner searched for Dawson
and the others but came up empty. “My team will be here soon.”

 “But I want to stay!”
She already had her phone out, seeking her fifteen minutes.

“No, it’s too dangerous.”

“But—”

Niner gave his cousin a
look and pointed at the road on which they had just come to a screeching halt.
“Home. Now.”

Jimmy rounded the car,
his phone out, documenting the scene. “Please, Ji-yeon, go home, it’s not safe.
When this is all over, I promise he’ll come and visit you.”

Ji-yeon stared at Jimmy’s
feet, one of her own doing a back and forth pirouette, straight out of a Betty
Boop cartoon. “Will
you
come?”

Jimmy smiled.
“Absolutely.”

She bounced. “Okay, see
you soon!” She jumped in her car and peeled away with a wave and the attention
of the police officers swarming the area.

Niner glared at his
friend and pointed a finger at the man’s chin. “You lay a finger on my little
cousin and I’ll chop your balls off.”

“Can I help it if she
finds me irresistible?”

“She only likes you
because she knows it will piss me off.”

“She never met you before
today!”

“Think of her as my
sister, and act accordingly.”

Jimmy placed a finger on
his chin. “So no sex until the third date?”

Niner swung at him, a
grinning Jimmy blocking it easily.

“What’s going on!”
shouted one of the officers in Korean as several of them ran toward them, mistaking
the joking around for the real thing.

Niner responded in Korean
as they both showed their IDs. “We’re with the President of the United States’
security detail. What can you tell us?”

The lead officer took his
ID and examined it for a moment before calling over to a group of senior officers,
if Niner’s knowledge of South Korean insignia wasn’t failing him. A rather
attractive woman quickly walked toward them, saying nothing, instead inspecting
both IDs before returning them.

“I am Senior Inspector Yunhui
Kim, NPA. I’ve been expecting you. I’m to be your liaison for the
investigation.”

“Pleased to meet you,”
said Niner, extending a hand to the National Police Agency detective. “I’m
Agent Green, this is Agent Brown. Do you speak English?”

She nodded as she quickly
shook their hands, switching languages. “Yes.”

“What can you tell us?”

She motioned toward the
now smoldering crash site, the fire out. “Not much yet. From what eyewitnesses
are telling us, it appears that the first vehicle swerved into the fuel truck,
then the second one passed the bus and did the same.”

Niner’s eyebrows popped.
“Intentionally?”

Kim nodded. “That’s what
the witnesses are describing, but they’re not always reliable.”

Jimmy’s head bobbed.
“True. And the bus?”

She shook her head.
“Apparently, it didn’t even slow down. The witnesses said it just kept going as
if nothing had happened.”

Niner’s eyes widened as
he exchanged a glance with Jimmy. “It was an automated bus. There’s supposed to
be an override inside in case of an emergency.”

Kim shrugged slightly.
“It clearly wasn’t used.”

“Or it didn’t work.” Niner
placed his hands on his hips, surveying the area before frowning at Jimmy.
“This was no accident.”

South
of the Crash Scene
Seoul,
Republic of Korea

Stop
with the humming, already!

The incessant noise from
Nancy’s seatmate had become louder, the lyrics to whatever tune she was
nervously using to cope, occasionally escaping as the wide-eyed woman stared at
her surroundings, her head turning as if on a swivel.

It was annoying the hell
out of her and everyone within earshot.

“I-I think we’re here.”

Nancy stared ahead and
saw a large door opening on the side of a rather boring looking building, some
sort of warehouse, the plain white paint appearing fresh, the building modern,
though there were no markings to indicate who owned it. They were in some sort
of industrial area from what she could tell, there plenty of other buildings
and large trucks within sight, though none near their apparent destination.

The bus didn’t slow, instead
plunging deep into the darkness before coming to a rapid though controlled
stop. The doors closed with a rattle behind them, the moment the sliver of
light from the late morning sun was cut off, lights flickered on, illuminating
their immediate vicinity, the rest of the warehouse inkwells of mystery.

She flinched as a burst
of static erupted from the speaker, the same odd voice starting, it altered
somehow—a robotic sounding human.

Or a human sounding
robot?

She stared out the
windows at the dozens of drones.

Robot uprising?

“We have arrived. I
kindly ask the security detail to disarm.”

She pressed her face
against the window, trying to spot someone, anyone, who might be behind this,
but saw nothing except drones and a semi-trailer parked about fifty feet away,
no driver evident.