Red Ice (16 page)
Authors: Craig Reed Jr
South San Francisco, California
3:55am
The third objective of OUTCAST’s busy night was a warehouse in South San Francisco, a separate town south of the major city. According to Danielle, the warehouse was a shipping point for weapons and contraband. The building, a massive one-story affair with a brick front emblazoned with the name Kopen Brothers Shipping, was less than a mile from Interstate 101 to the west and San Francisco International Airport to the south.
Dante, driving a dirty white delivery truck with no logo or other identification anywhere on it, turned onto the cul-de-sac where the warehouse was located. His Colt Command/M-203 combo was under a blanket next to him, and wore his SIG-Sauer P229 under his coat. He spoke into his radio transmitter as he approached the target.
“Objective in sight. One guard at the gate, armed with an AK.”
“Copy, Five.” Tanner occupied the rear of the truck, along with the rest of the team. They were dressed in black and wore NVGs. “Base: Ready for blackout.”
Danielle’s reply was instantaneous. “Copy, Prime. Blackout will commence in five…four…three…two…one. Blackout in effect.”
All the lights in the vicinity cut out, plunging the area into darkness with the exception of the truck’s headlights.
Tanner looked at his watch. “We have three minutes from now.” He and the others pulled their balaclavas into place.
Naomi opened the truck’s rolling door, the sound grating in the still night air. She and Tanner positioned themselves on the edge and waited for Dante to slow the vehicle to a crawl before climbing down and hopping off.
When Dante turned into the warehouse’s driveway, he accelerated, going from a crawl to twenty miles an hour in seconds. The gate guard momentarily froze as the truck came at him before self-preservation took over and he threw himself out of its path. By the time the truck smashed into the gate, it was doing more than twenty-five miles an hour, the truck’s speed and weight more than the gate was designed to stop. The barrier smashed apart and the truck shot through the opening with little loss of speed.
Tanner pointed his Commando at the warehouse office’s front door and stroked the trigger of the M-203 under the submachine gun’s barrel. The HEDP round smashed through the office’s front glass door and exploded, the sound and sight shattering the peaceful night. Replacing the spent grenade with a buckshot round, they quickly moved toward what had been the front door but was now a gaping hole.
Danielle’s scouring of the records indicated there were somewhere between six and twelve guards at the warehouse at any time of the night. There was no telling how many there were now, so Tanner had opted for a two-prong attack — he and Naomi would approach from the front and draw the enemy to him while Liam and the others hit them from the rear.
The gate guard staggered to his feet and tried raising his AK-47 at them, but Tanner hit him with a five-round burst from his Commando that dropped the 49 in his tracks. He and Naomi ran for the smoking hole where the office door used to be and stepped inside.
The office lobby and waiting area ceased to exist in the aftermath of the explosion. With great caution, both OUTCASTs moved into the adjacent office area using their NVGs to see in the darkness. Three computer desks—two to the left and one to the right—occupied the space along with a receptionist desk behind them. All were blanketed with dust and debris from the explosion, with the closest desk on the left broken in half from the force of the blast that ripped apart the sheetrock separating the office from the lobby.
Tanner swept left while Naomi swept right, each turning one-eighty but finding no one. Tanner spotted two doors in the corner next to the receptionist desk. Signs identified them as restrooms.
As he watched, one of the doors opened and bloody man stepped out, raising his Mossberg 500ATP shotgun. Tanner and Naomi hit him with twin volleys of 5.56mm rounds. The projectiles punched into the Triad hardman’s face and upper chest. The dying thug slammed into the doorjamb and fell back into the restroom.
Satisfied he was dead, Tanner moved off to the left. Naomi took right, and both progressed toward the swinging doors at the far end of the office.
Upon reaching them an explosion, rocked the rear of the warehouse.
#
The truck raced the entire length of the warehouse before Dante slammed on the brakes and turned the wheel to the left. The big vehicle slid to a stop, its open rear facing a trio of empty loading bays.
“The one in the middle!” Liam raised his Commando and fired the M-203. Stephen was half a second slower and both HEDP grenades obliterated the loading bays’ wooden door.
“Five! Floor it!”
Dante shifted the truck into reverse and pressed down on the accelerator, sending the truck hurtling back toward the still-smoking opening. He waited until the last second before twisting the wheel to the left to send the truck into the middle bay, slamming on the brakes had hard as he could. Wheels screaming, the truck slid into place, striking the dock’s bumpers with enough force to flatten them and nearly knock Liam and Stephen over. Liam opened the M-203’s chamber, letting the spent shell drop to the truck bed. He slipped in a buckshot round before closing it again.
“Four with me. Five, stairs to your right, twenty feet away. Move!”
Liam slipped through the thinning smoke with Stephen behind and to his left. A pair of bleeding bodies lay on the ground, not too far from the destroyed door. A third man, bloody but still on his feet, tried to raise his Daewoo K2 assault rifle, but Liam’s Commando spoke first and the man became even bloodier as he buckled.
Gunfire from their left forced the pair to take cover behind a cargo pallet stacked with wooden crates. Three Triad hitters fired blindly from an open doorway fifty feet away, the two AKs and single FN FAL rifle slamming dozens of 7.62 rounds into the wooden crates, shattering their contents. Stephen and Liam moved to opposite sides of the pallet and returned fire.
“Two to Prime,” Liam transmitted. “Entry made. Three Tangos down. Your status?”
“Pinned down,” Tanner returned. “Shipping office. Two Tangos are down on our end.”
The shipping office was a small room with barely enough space for a pair of desks and a counter under a large window looking into the warehouse. Swinging doors on either side of the window gave access into the warehouse, and the door behind them led into the office. They could both hear gunfire echoing in the warehouse.
Both OUTCASTs were crouched behind the desks as at least three streams of bullets tore through the air over their heads and ripped holes in the sheetrock behind them. The large window was shattered in the first volley, leaving shards of glass everywhere. They raised their Commandos high enough to fire short bursts over the desk and out the window.
Somewhere in the back of the warehouse there was another explosion. Dante’s tense voice erupted over the radio. “This is Five. Entry made. Three more Tangos down.”
Tanner nodded to himself. It looked like the guard force was on the high side. “Two, bring Four and Five forward. We’ll catch the rest of the Tangos in a crossfire. He glanced at his watch. “Two minutes.”
#
Liam leaned out and motioned for Dante to come over. Behind Dante, the three Triad shooters were in a pile by the doorway, dead from the one-two punch of the exit door behind them exploding from a 203’s grenade and Dante’s Colt follow-up.
Stephen faced the front of the warehouse, his Commando covering the closest approaches to their location—a pair of aisles leading toward the front offices. They could hear the gunfight ahead of them.
Dante reached them. “How do we do this?”
Liam motioned as he spoke. “You two take the left aisle, I’ll take the right. We go down and shoot anyone that isn’t our side.”
They started down the aisles, moving at a fast walk. The aisles were bordered by twenty-foot tall shelves, each steel shelf five feet above the one below it. The shelves were stocked with a mix of wooden crates and cardboard boxes. Liam noted that several of the crates bore markings from both the U.S. Army and the Marine Corps. He snapped a phone cam picture of the crate’s serial numbers before moving on. Ahead, the gunfire became less intense as each side either ran low on ammo or planned how to end the stalemate.
Liam spotted a man in a three-piece suit with an AK-47 slung over his back, climbing up a ladder thirty feet ahead of him. Liam moved to the left until he was standing next to the shelves. He raised his Colt Commando and fired two bursts. The 49 released the ladder and fell to the concrete floor with a wet smack. “Two to Prime. Another Tango down.”
Gunfire erupted out of the darkness ahead, aimed at Liam. He dropped to the floor and made himself as small as possible while returning fire. Sparks from the bullets’ impacts on the shelf above showered him. After a long burst, the gunman pulled back. Liam moved ahead and to the opposite side of the aisle, where he changed magazines.
Tanner spoke into his radio “All members: Stand by for some thunder and lightning.”
#
Tanner pulled the pin on a flash-bang grenade and lobbed it through the shattered window. Naomi’s flash-bang was a couple of seconds behind his. They hunched down behind the desks, put their hands over their ears, shut their eyes tightly and opened their mouths. The bright light and ear-shattering boom, despite being shielded by a wall and two desks, was still enough to stun the pair for a couple of seconds. Tanner wasn’t sure, but he thought he could hear screams amid the explosions.
Ignoring the dancing lights over his vision and the ringing in his ears, Tanner rose and started forward. Naomi was a couple seconds slower to recover, but she quickly followed. On Tanner’s gesture, they split up, the OUTCAST leader taking the door on the right, Naomi taking the one on the left. They stormed through the doors together, Commandos up and ready. Naomi sighted her target first, a heavyset Triad thug with a bald head trying to raise his K2 rifle while blinking rapidly to clear his eyesight. Naomi didn’t give him the chance. She stitched him waist to neck with five 5.56mm rounds. The gunman went down without a sound.
Tanner caught movement to his left. He spun, dropping into a crouch as an AK-47’s muzzle flash heralded the arrival of half a dozen 7.62mm rounds. As the bullets sped over his head, Tanner returned fire, sending a dozen 5.56mm slugs back. The Triad gunman, using the edge of a storage shelf as cover, pulled back as Tanner’s return volley clanged against the steel supports. Before the 49 could recover, Tanner ran forward, loosing shorter bursts. Naomi followed, her own weapon blasting short, rapid volleys at the same target.
“Wait!” a voice yelled out from the shelves. “I give up.”
Both Tanner and Naomi stopped firing. “Throw out your weapon!” Tanner yelled. The AK flew out from behind the shelves and landed on the floor twenty feet away, sliding a ways before coming to a stop. “Now, come out with your hands up!”
Liam and the others emerged from the aisles at the same instant the last 49 walked out, hands over his head. He looked no older than twenty, with uncombed hair and a cheap suit, his eyes wide in panic.
“Pistol!” Tanner pointed to the gang member’s waistband. “Pull it out slowly with your left hand.” The kid did it, slowly extracting the automatic from his belt.
“Toss it.” The 49 chucked the pistol in the same direction as the AK, then put his hand back in the air.
“Five, cuff him.”
Dante moved forward, careful to stay out of his teammates’ line of fire. The Triad survivor’s arms were bound behind him with flex cuffs. Dante guided him to the nearest shelves and used another set of cuffs to bind him to the support frame.
Tanner walked over to the prisoner. “Two things. First, as soon as you can, call Billy Hong and tell him that we want Rhee. Understand?”
“Yes.”
Second, the Black Dao Triad is going down. When it does, don’t be on that ship. This is your only warning.”
The kid stared up at him with wide, unblinking eyes, then nodded slowly.
Tanner consulted his watch. “Time’s up. Let’s move.”
OUTCAST was picked up by Choi and Vessler in a cargo van. The five climbed in and Choi drove away from the warehouse.
“Nothing yet on the police scanners,” Vessler said from the front passenger seat. “What’s next?”
“We get some rest.” Tanner removed his NVGs in the back seat. “I think we’ve sent a strong enough message to Hong tonight.” He spoke into his radio. “Base, what’s the latest from the Triad?”
Danielle’s reply was loud and clear. “Large number of conversations on the Triad’s phone system. All in Chinese. I have translation programs running on them, but it’s going to take a little while.”
“We’re half an hour out,” Tanner said. “Go to bed.”
“Not until you’re back.”
“Is Casey there?”
“Yes.”
In a couple of seconds Casey came on the air. “What do you want, you old dog?”
“I think it’s time to call in the FBI. That’ll put more pressure on Hong and his Triad to give up Rhee, or at worst, to break the alliance.”
“What’s the federal angle?”
Liam answered, “I spotted several U.S. Army and Marine Corps cases of firearms in the warehouse. I got photos of their serial numbers. Ready to receive them?”
Danielle came back on the channel and said that she was.
Liam sent the photos and then after a couple of minutes Danielle came back on. “Those weapons crates were reported missing over a two-year span from Army and Marine Corps bases throughout the Western United States.”
Casey sighed. “Okay. I’ll get both the Army CID and the NCIS involved in the warehouse investigation.”
“What about the brothel slaves we rescued?” Tanner asked.
“As of half an hour ago, they were still giving their statements. If even half this stuff gets leaked to the press, the political shockwaves could last for years.”
“What did the president say about them staying in the U.S.?”
“He agreed to it. Classify them as political refugees and take it from there. How about Rhee? Any sign of him and his force?”
“Negative,” Tanner said.
“Be careful. Rhee’s like an angry rattlesnake. No telling where he’ll strike.”
“We’ll handle him.”
“I hope so, for all our sakes.”
#
Nob Hill, San Francisco
8:35am
After a quick meal, three hours of sleep and a shower, the team reassembled in the Trans-Continental Marsh Hotel’s Presidential Suite. Vessler and Choi joined them, looking a little less rested than the team. After each had grabbed themselves a cup of coffee, the team, Casey, and the DEA agents convened in the suite’s main room.
The Presidential Suite wasn’t just a title; U.S. presidents, foreign leaders, and the richest people in world regularly stayed there when business took them to San Francisco. As such, it was luxuriously appointed and equipped with all the amenities that the leaders who stayed there were accustomed to, including secure communications. The views of San Francisco from the suite’s windows were only eclipsed by the vantage point of the hotel’s world-famous restaurant two floors above.
Liam sipped his coffee and leaned back. “We miss anything while we were asleep?”
“Just the press going rabid.” Vessler stifled a yawn. “ Internet, TV, radio, newspapers— you name it, they are all over it.”
“I briefed the president earlier.” Of all the people in the room, Casey looked the most refreshed. “He’s already taking flack from all directions over this, especially from this district’s congresswoman. But for now, anyway, he’s leaving this in our hands.”
“That’s nice of him,” Stephen joked.
Danielle stared at the screen of the laptop open in front of her. Naomi noticed her friend’s expression. “What’s wrong, Dani?”
“There were explosions and fires at four different farm supply stores around northern California overnight.”
“Farm supply stores?” Naomi frowned. “Uh-oh, I just had a nasty thought.”
“About me, I hope.” Liam grinned like the devil.
“You wish.”
“Ammonia nitrate?” Tanner interjected.
“Yeah. Oklahoma City was a few years before my time, but I worked with some ATF guys who investigated that scene. They had nightmares for years.”
Dante raised his eyebrows. “Do these stores carry ammonia nitrate?”
“In fertilizer form? Yeah. Still popular, though strangers buying a lot of it at once will raise a few flags.”
Tanner nodded “This sounds like Rhee. Hit four different stores, steal the ammonia nitrate, then set a fire to cover the theft.”
“Sounds like he has something big planned,” Liam said.
“They also found two bodies at one of the sites,” Danielle continued. “Both shot in the head at close range. Neither one is Asian.”
“What’s he going to do?” Choi asked.
“Anything that will help to complete his mission.” Tanner looked around the room. “He and his people are highly trained and capable of extreme violence on their own.”
A phone started chiming. Vessler reached for her device and glanced at it. “It’s the office.” She stood. “I have to take this.” She walked over to the window and answered it.
“So back to Rhee’s next move.” Choi leaned forward. “What could it be?”
“I don’t know,” Tanner replied. “I thought protecting the drug lab was his top priority but—”
“Oh my God.”
Everyone turned to look at Vessler, who had uttered the oath.
“How many?” she snapped. She paused, listening. “How many agents are in the office?” Another beat, her face darkening. “Brock, listen to me. Take Meechim, Howes, Daniels and Gonzales. Get over to University, find Gloria Glimsdale and take her into protective custody now. And Brock? I want you and the others in full tactical gear, and don’t take shit from anyone. Until I say otherwise, Gloria is your only concern. Understand? Get going.” She broke the connection, shuddered and took a deep breath.
Everyone waited for her to speak.
At length, Vessler said, “George Glimsdale’s dead. Him, his wife, and his two youngest kids.” She closed her eyes. “They were all found dead in their home, tied up, tortured, their throats cut.”
“Rhee,” Tanner rose from his chair.
“We don’t know that,” Casey said.
“The local cops think it was Colombians.” Vessler stared out the window as if mulling this over.
“But you don’t think so?”
“Hell, no! The Colombians got pushed out of the area a couple of years back by the Mexican cartels and haven’t reestablished a foothold in the local drug trade since then. The DEA has no operations running against them either here or over in Oakland. So them killing George and his family don’t make any sense.”
“Who’s second in charge?” Casey asked.
“Bill Derer. He’s on vacation with his family, skiing at Mammoth.”
“I’ll get him back.” Casey, rose to his feet. “Until then, Agent Vessler, I’m putting you in charge of the local DEA office.”
Vessler took a deep breath. “Then I better get back to the office. Come on, Danny.”
“Right behind you.”
After the two left, Danielle brought up a new screen on her computer and pecked some keys. “I’ve got something. Hong’s calling a meeting of the Black Dao’s senior leadership. It’s at the Black Jade Dragon Restaurant, today at noon.”
Tanner glanced at his watch. “Three hours.” He looked at Casey. “How fast can you get Derer back here?”
“We have to find him first.”
“Black Bear Lodge,” Danielle said. “I have the phone number right here.”
Casey closed his eyes and shook his head slightly. “Give me the number.”
“What are we going to do, Boss?” Liam asked.
Tanner exhaled. “No telling when and where Rhee is going to use that ammonia nitrate. So, the gloves come off. We’re going to have a talk with Billy Hong about a drug lab.”
