Authors: Craig Reed Jr
“That didn’t go over well.”
“It sure didn’t. They spent months trying to cover their asses, but it was too late. They threw a couple of their own to the wolves, endured the media and congressional scrutiny, and made a few internal policy changes. But in the end they got a big black eye, and a few careers were derailed.”
“They fired you?”
“They knew I did it, but they couldn’t prove it. I was ‘encouraged’ to resign, and by then I was tired of the entire situation, so I did.”
Vessler leaned back in her chair. “That still doesn’t explain why you’re in a black ops outfit.”
“Well, I was sitting in a bar in Bismarck, having resigned from the ATF a few days before, feeling like crap, when this guy with mismatched eyes sits next to me at the bar and asks if I want a job. Not a drink, but a job.”
“With a lot of guys at a bar, that line could backfire easily.”
Naomi chuckled. “True, but Tanner Wilson is not a lot of guys. I wasn’t in the mood to talk, and I’d been hit on by more than one guy that night already. So, I told him I wasn’t a dancer, a hooker, or a model, and if he didn’t go away, I would break both his legs.”
Vessler snorted a laugh. “He must have
loved
that.”
“He did. He smiled at me and said, ‘Good, because I need someone with your skills, someone who’s not afraid to throw out the regulations if that’s what the mission calls for.’ He left me his phone number and told me to call when I was ready. I did the next morning, and that’s how I ended up with OUTCAST.”
“I did some asking around Washington about OUTCAST. Their somewhat of a legend already, but no one seems to really know much about them. What’s Tanner’s story?”
“Former FBI, one of the top guys in the agency’s counter-terrorism section, before a bogus sexual harassment suit forced him out.”
Vessler nodded. “That’s what I heard. And the others?”
“Same deal. All good at their jobs until their respective agencies got rid of them for reasons having nothing to do with their actual duties. Dani was NSA until she used their resources to search for her ex after he took their son. Stephen was CIA until he filed a discrimination lawsuit against the agency. Dante, until he got caught up in that South American prostitution scandal, had been Secret Service. Liam’s ‘crime’ was that he wrote a tell-all book about the Bin Laden raid — he was one of the SEALs on that mission. So, we’re all damaged goods one way or another. That’s our common bond, other than our professionalism and sense of duty to our country. Tanner’s given us a purpose and we’re making a difference.”
“By being a black ops outfit?”
“Oh, we’re not exclusively U.S. government. We have a group of clients for which we handle security, investigations and now and then, hostage retrieval. But when Casey calls us in, we know there’s a serious threat to this country.”
Vessler’s gaze took on a harder edge. “Nay, this is a DEA case.”
“Not any more. Rhee’s presence expands the scope.”
“We have no proof Rhee was behind the ambush!”
“Vess, you were set up last night. They eliminated your observation team and your sniper squad, then had security teams in place to stop your police reinforcements. That kind of logistical coordination hints at someone with a military background.”
Vessler shrugged. “Doesn’t seem too sophisticated to me. They have to know that killing law enforcement officers would only bring more heat on them.”
“Last night was meant to be a warning; back off or there will be more dead people. That’s why we’re here.”
Vessler looked at her friend in shock. “You’re talking about all-out war in the city!”
“Vess, as far as Rhee is concerned, the Korean War never ended. Last night was just a continuation, a flare-up, and it won’t be a one-time thing. There’ll be another incident like this, maybe here, maybe in another city, but with similar results. We need to nip this in the bud, now.”
“But there are rules! Laws!”
Naomi smiled. “Rhee’s just started a new game, one the DEA is not ready to play. That’s why we’re here.”
There was a knock at the door, then it opened and Dante stuck his head in. “We’re back in session.”
#
Casey waited until everyone was in their chairs. “That was the President. As of now, Tanner’s team is lead on the Red Ice case.”
Vessler rose. “Wait a minute—”
Casey’s tone was soft as he addressed her. “Agent Vessler, this case has been taken as far as you can take it, and at a heavy price in lives. It’s up to someone else now to take the burden of bringing these bastards to justice.”
“But these people are—”
“Shut the hell up, Vess!”
Vessler stopped and turned to look at her partner, Daniel Choi. In the five years she had known him, the last three as her partner, she had never seen him anything but calm and composed.
He returned her stare, anger etched in his face. “I’m sorry, Vess, but Casey’s right. We can’t deal with these bastards like these…” His head swiveled around as he looked at Tanner and the other OUTCASTs. “…like these
ghosts
can.”
“But the law—”
“Screw the law.”
Vessler stared at him, stunned. “Dan—”
“No, hear me out. I grew up listening to my grandparents who told me about the North Koreans and what they did to entire villages during the Korean War. I have cousins serving in the ROK army who’ve told me about hunting down North Korean infiltrators and rescuing people kidnapped by the North Koreans. You may think of the Kim family as nothing more than the comically insane leaders of a fourth-rate country, but to my family it’s no laughing matter. If the North Koreans are behind that attack on our people, then as far as I’m concerned, the gloves are
off
.”
He motioned to the OUTCAST group. “If they can do the job, let them do it. I’ll gladly hold their coats.”
“Danny!” Vessler pressed. “What if innocents get in the way?”
Choi scowled. “Do you think Rhee cares about innocents? My grandfather still carries the scars from the beating a North Korean officer gave him when he was eight, during the war. You don’t understand the hate North Koreans have for Americans. They see us the same way the fanatical Islamics do — as a great evil. They’ve been drilling that lie into their population’s heads every day for decades.”
“What does—”
“We are well aware of innocents,” Tanner said. “I suggest the DEA lends us a couple of agents who know the streets. There are going be pieces left over, and it would be a good idea if the law was able to pick up those pieces.”
Glimsdale looked over at Vessler. “You want in, Sarah?”
“You want me to be part of this?”
“You know the case better than most.”
“I’m in,” Choi said.
Vessler slumped into her chair. “You’re going to do this no matter what I decide?”
Tanner nodded. “That’s right.”
She scowled. “Then I’m in. What’s our first move?”
San Francisco City Hall
San Francisco
9:12am
San Francisco is unique in California because it is the only city that is also a county. The mayor acts as the county executive, and the city’s Board of Supervisors acts as the county council.
Norman Kwan, President of the Board of Supervisors for the City and County of San Francisco, wasn’t an imposing man. In fact, the slightly-built, fifty-seven year old looked like a storekeeper. As he entered City Hall, he greeted the security guards with a smile and a wave. On the way to his office, he was stopped by more than one person with routine matters related to running the thirteenth most populated city in the country. He handled each with grace and kind words.
When he reached his office, his secretary, a matronly redhead, smiled at him. “Good morning, sir.”
“Good morning, Georgina. Anything I need to know?”
“You heard about the extreme violence down at Pier 80 last night, right?”
Kwan sighed. “Yes, I’ve already been on the phone with Chief Lee. Inform the Board that there will be a moment of silence at today’s meeting, and that we need to make sure there’s a supervisor at each funeral.”
“Yes sir. Mr. Tanada is asking for a meeting over the street repaving problems in his district.”
“When’s the earliest can I see him?”
“An hour and a half from now.”
“All right. I’ll see him then.”
“Also, there’s a man waiting for you in your office.”
Kwan frowned. “Who?”
“A Mr. Lee from the Red Phoenix Society.”
He felt a chill of fear go through him, but kept his smile. “I’ll talk with him. Hold all calls until we’re done.”
“Yes sir.”
Kwan entered his office. The guest standing at the window turned slowly to look at him. He was shorter than Kwan, and lean, with cold dark eyes and closely-cropped hair. He was dressed in a mid-priced suit, yet Kwan knew he wasn’t a businessman. “Mr. Kwan,” he began in accented English.
“Mr. Lee,” Kwan returned, closing the door behind him.
Lee smiled and said in Korean, “
My God is none other than the people. Only the popular masses are omniscient and omnipotent and almighty on Earth. Therefore, my lifetime motto is: “The people are my God.
”
The words of Kim Il-Sung hit Kwan like a physical blow, and it took him several seconds to remember the other half of the code phase. “
Th—The basis of the Juche Idea is that man is the master of all things and the decisive factor in everything
.”
“You remembered.”
Kwan held up a hand, then walked over to his desk and opened a drawer. Once the white noise generator was on the desk and activated, he scowled. “I received no warning of your arrival.”
“You weren’t supposed to know.” Kwan’s visitor sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk. “I am Major Rhee Kyu-chul.” He looked around. “You seem to have done well, Byung.”
Kwan fought the fear as Rhee spoke a name Kwan hadn’t used in nearly forty years. “What are you doing here?”
“I need your help.”
“With what?”
Rhee traced a circle on the chair’s armrest with his finger, his eyes never leaving Kwan. “You are no doubt aware of the incident at the pier last night?”
Anger replaced Kwan’s fear. “You did that?”
Rhee shrugged. “They were nothing more than lapdogs for their corrupt masters.”
Pot, kettle, black,
Kwan thought. “Do you think we…the Americans…will back off? No, they will want blood, and they will come after you hard!”
The major shrugged again. “That is not your concern. What I want from you is information.”
“On what?”
“Someone showed up last night at the pier. They broke the ambush and saved a few DEA agents.”
“So?”
“They used military weapons and didn’t act like policemen. I want you to find who they are.”
Kwan stared at Rhee. “How do you expect me to do that?”
“Someone must know who these people are.”
“There are no such groups in the city!”
“They obviously exist,” Rhee said, his tone dropping into annoyance. “You will use your resources to find out who they are.”
Kwan clamped down on his anger. “Look, whoever they are, they’re not part of the local or state government — none of the leaders here or in Sacramento would stand for it. It they do exist, it must be on the federal level.”
“There’s a special assistant to the president currently here. He will know.”
“He will not tell me anything. The federal government is not beholden to the local or state governments.”
Rhee scowled. “Do what you have to in order to find out.” He stood and handed Kwan a business card. “Call when you have something. You have twenty-four hours.”
“And if I don’t find anything?”
Rhee’s smile was cold. “Your younger brother just became head of the biology department at Kim Il-sung University. It would be a pity if he was to lose that position because of your failure. He’s married and has three children, two of them grown and married. The prison camps are poor places to bring children and grandchildren up in.”
Rhee walked toward the door. For a moment, Kwan considered throwing the white noise generator at him, but decided not to.
After Rhee left, Kwan sunk into his chair. He hadn’t thought about his brother in years, didn’t even know if what Rhee had said was true. But he couldn’t take the chance. During his training, he had been taken to one of the camps and shown the fate of those who did not follow the Kim family’s vision.
He reached over and pressed the intercom button. “Georgina, please continue holding my calls for the time being.”
“Yes sir.”
He released the intercom switch and picked up the phone, dialing a number from memory.
He had to find Casey.
Pier 80
10:31am
The pier’s gates were blocked by a pair of SFPD vehicles and a contingent of officers. Choi slowed the U.S. government Suburban to a stop as a cop walked up to them, rolled down his window and displayed a DEA badge to the officer. He motioned to the three men with him. “They’re from Homeland Security. Who’s in charge?”
“Captain Montague and FBI Special Agent Harris.”
“Good. We’ll check in with them.”
They drove onto the pier. Choi slowed as he passed the two shattered hulks that had been Suburbans but were now part of a wide-area crime scene. “I never thanked you guys for saving our asses, did I?”
Liam, who was in the front passenger seat, put a hand on Choi’s shoulder. “Consider it said.”
“I knew most of those guys longer than I’ve known Vess. We drank together, bitched about women and the job together, attended each other’s birthdays, weddings, all that.” He shook his head. “I want these guys to pay.”
“They will,” Liam promised.
They parked with a dozen other vehicles next to a large mobile command truck and climbed out. There were two dozen people in sight, some wearing overalls, others wearing police uniforms, while still others wore suits like Choi and the three OUTCAST members. Evidence markers were everywhere and police tape wrapped around the destroyed vehicles and a few crates near the cargo ship.
Dante looked around slowly, gauging the surroundings. “Nowhere to hide.”
“Yeah,” Liam said. “Where were the sniper and observation teams stationed?”
Choi pointed to the office building Team Two had invaded eight hours before. “Second floor, near the end closest to the ship.” He turned and pointed at a long building with a steel roof perpendicular to the office building. “Sniper team was on the roof there, nearer the bay.”
Liam looked around. “According to the autopsy, both police officers were killed with single shots from distance.”
Choi frowned. “How did you see—”
“Dani retrieved them for us from the morgue’s computer system. Opinion, Dante?”
Dante was also looking around. “There’s no way someone could have killed them from the ground, so whoever took out the sniper team had be higher, which means they had to be firing from that office building, the warehouse near the ship or from the ship itself.”
Liam nodded. “I would bet on the ship.” He pointed to the cargo ship’s superstructure. “From there, I could dominate the entire pier.”
Dante nodded. “Two snipers. No way could both men have been killed by a single sniper quickly enough to prevent one of them from sounding an alarm.”
“Can I help you, gentlemen?”
The four turned at the sound of the voice. Two men were walking toward them. One was sliding into middle age, while the other was younger, taller and built like a linebacker. The older man focused his attention on Choi and scowled. “Come to see your handy work?”
“Captain,” Choi said with an edge in his voice.
The younger man focused on the other three. “Who are you?”
“I’m Reilly.” Liam displayed a federal ID badge. “Homeland Security. These are agents Shah and Alvarez.”
“Special Agent Ray Harris, FBI. I wasn’t told you were coming.”
“We didn’t know ourselves until this morning. Director Casey asked us to look around.”
“John Casey? I know he’s in town.”
Liam nodded. “He’s staying at the Trans-Continental Marsh Hotel if you want to call and confirm.”
“I will.”
The older man folded his arms. “What’s Homeland doing here?”
Choi motioned toward him. “Gentlemen, Captain Al Montague, SFPD.”
Liam stepped up to Montague. “We’re not here to take over your investigation, sir,” he said. “Director Casey asked us to look around. Once we do that, we’ll be out of your hair. Fair enough?”
“I suppose,” Montague growled.
Stephen motioned toward the ship. “Did the ship’s crew tell you anything?”
Montague snorted. “Most of the crew can’t speak English, and those who can didn’t see a thing. There’s a Customs and Immigration team onboard looking for any illegal goods, but I’m not counting on them finding any.”
Harris motioned with his head. “I suppose we can let you look at the evidence we’ve collected so far. In the spirit of cooperation.”
Liam nodded. “Of course.”
They walked over to an area next to the mobile command vehicle. A pair of cargo trucks sat guarded by a pair of police officers.
“What do you have so far in the way of evidence?” Liam asked
Montague climbed into one of the trucks. “Five dead Asians in the office building and parts of four more on a rooftop over on Chavez. Six of them have been IDed as petty criminals, the rest, we’re still working on.”
Liam climbed into the truck. The truck’s walls were lined with shelves, and on one of them he spotted an evidence bag with spent shells in it.
“Captain?” He motioned to the bag. “May I take a look?”
“Knock yourself out. We think they’re Chinese.”
Liam picked up the bag and examined the shells carefully without touching them. “Not Chinese. North Korean. These are 7.62 x 54mm shells, probably from the Type 73 light machine guns.”
Montague frowned but motioned for Liam to continue. The former SEAL held one of the shells between his fingers so that he and the captain could see the base. “See the ‘93’ and the symbol stamped here? That a Korean character. Did you recover any of the weapons?”
“A couple of machine guns from the office roof, a couple of AKs and the remains of a rocket launcher.”
“I’m betting they’re all North Korean-made weapons.”
Harris raised an eyebrow. “You think the North Koreans are invading the U.S.?”
“There are intel reports that they’re expanding arms sales.” Liam placed the evidence bag back on the shelf and climbed out of the truck. “We’re going to look around.”
“Suit yourself,” the captain replied.
Liam nodded. “Steven, Dante, check the office building.”
“Right,” Dante replied.
“Come on, Dan,” Liam said to Choi.
They walked away from the awning and toward the ship. “Where are we going?” Choi asked.
“To look at the ship.”
It took a couple of minutes to reach the vessel. Agents wearing FBI and Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) jackets were on deck, along with a few surly-looking Asians dressed as deckhands. Liam walked astern until he came to a set of stairs going up. “Come on.”
They climbed two sets of stairs before Liam was satisfied they were high enough. From there, they had a good view of the pier and its surroundings. A line of crates was visible on the pier near the ship, now being swarmed by evidence techs and law officers. Across a thousand feet of open pavement, the pair could see the warehouse roof where the sniper team had been killed. Beyond the warehouse, they could make out a dirt lot acting as a storage facility for several dozen trailers. They could also easily distinguish the office building roof where the ambushers had been located.
“Definite kill zone,” Liam said. “No cover, and the bad guys hold all the high ground.” He went to the rail and motioned to the crates and containers below them. “That was the base of the ambush. Machine gunners on the office building, two security teams to prevent anyone from breaking the ambush like we did.”
“You sound disappointed we weren’t all killed,” Choi said.
“You were lucky to survive for as long as you did.” Liam looked around, the stared out into the distance. “I think they were set up here, far enough back from the rail so they wouldn’t be seen by the police snipers and —” He stopped and frowned. “Step back from the railing.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I saw a reflection a couple of times from those trailers. Check with Montague if he has anyone out where those trailers are.”
While Choi took out his radio to call Montague, Liam produced his own transmitter. “Two to Four and Five. Possible intruder in the trailer storage area north of the pier.”
“Could be press.” Dante said.
“Best to make sure.”
“Copy. What do you want us to do?”
“Meet us back at the car,” Liam said, walking toward the stairs. He turned and looked back at Choi. “We’re on our –-”
The bullet missed Liam’s face by a couple of inches and sprang off a steel support. He dropped to the deck. “Sniper!”
The DEA agent dropped to the deck a few feet away. “Where?”
“Trailer storage lot!”
Several more shots rang out as the sniper sought other targets. Below, the investigators took cover at the sound of the first shot. Liam sprang to his feet and darted toward the stairs. He reached the top and leapt down the stairwell, head first. A third of the way down, he grabbed each railing and swung his feet forward, using his momentum to launch him the rest of the way down the stairs. As he landed, he bent his knees to absorb the impact.
“Liam!” Choi shouted down. “There’s a car leaving that lot! Black or dark blue, four-door, moving fast.”
Liam glanced out and saw the dust cloud. He ran for the next set of stairs. “Dante, we have a car getting the hell out of Dodge, looks like it’s heading for Twenty-Fifth Street!”
The sound of an engine made Liam look up. He saw a CHP helicopter overhead. “Danny!” he shouted. “Contact Montague and get him to order that chopper to track that car!”
Liam threw himself down the stairs again, hitting the main deck at a full run. By now, the police and federal agents on the ship were getting on their feet, staying low and looking out for snipers. Liam raced past them, reached the gangplank and ran down the stairs, Choi now a few steps behind.
As he reached the pier, the Suburban raced into view and slid to a stop next to him. He opened the front passenger door and found Dante behind the wheel, Stephen in the back seat. “Get in back!” he yelled to Choi as he hauled himself into the front seat.
The Suburban was moving before Choi had the back door closed.
#
Sergeant Jee Sun-ok scowled from the back seat as the late-model Buick Century drove down the street at thirty miles an hour. He still held the Jeogyeok-Bochong sniper rifle, without silencer, angry at himself for missing the man on the ship. He grabbed the radio handset. “Tiger to Lion. Are you ready?”
There were a couple of seconds of dead air before someone transmitted. “We’re here. You done yet?”
Jee gritted his teeth. The “native recruits” were too soft and too lazy to be of any real use. But since he was stuck with them, he’d use them. And if they got killed… Better them then his men.
“Yes, the police are reacting now.” He spotted the van holding the street scum parked to the right, ahead of them. “Wait one minute and then follow us. Shoot at any police car you see along the way.”
“What about the drug? Can we take it now?”
Jee grounded his teeth in anger. That was all they cared about. “Yes,” he replied into the radio. “You can take the
patbingsu.
”
“Good.”
The Buick shot past the van, getting close to the intersection with Illinois Street. He heard sirens coming from the south and smiled coldly.
#
The Chevy Suburban raced through the open gate and roared down Cesar Chavez Street at fifty miles an hour. Dante turned on the siren, and the couple of cars ahead of them moved quickly out of the way.
Sirens behind them made Liam look back through the rear window. He could see three SFPD cars following, lights flashing in addition to the sirens.
“What kind of car are we looking for?” Dante asked.
“A four-door, dark colored sedan,” Choi replied.
Liam grabbed the radio mike. “What’s the helo’s call sign?”
“CHP H-30,” Choi replied. Stephen in the meantime had reached into the cargo area behind the rear seats and pulled out a bag. He placed it on the seat between him and Choi and unzipped it.
Liam keyed the mike. “CHP H-30, this is Oscar-2. We are in pursuit of a car containing suspects in a sniping incident that just occurred on Pier 80. There should be a four-door, dark colored car on Twenty-Fifth Street, nearing the intersection of Twenty-Fifth and Illinois. Do you see it?”
A few seconds passed and then the reply came. “Affirmative. Vehicle matching that description has just turned onto Illinois, side-swiped another car and is now heading north.”
Dante shouted, “Coming up on Illinois!”
The traffic light showed red as they approached, but the screaming sirens had stopped traffic in both lanes, so Dante was able to turn onto Illinois without problems, followed by three marked police cars. “Copy, CHP H-30. We just tuned north onto Illinois.”
“I see you.” the pilot replied. “Be advised the suspect car is about half a mile ahead and driving erratically at high speed.”
“Copy,” Liam replied. “We’re in pursuit.”
Dante drove through the traffic that was trying to get out of the way while Liam turned to look at Stephen. “Give me a P-90.”
Stephen handed the former SEAL a compact weapon that looked like something from a sci-fi movie, along with two see-through magazines. Liam readied the weapon. Meanwhile, Stephen pulled out another P-90 and slipped a fifty-round magazine into place.
“What are you doing?” Chi asked. “You’re not going to shoot them, are you?”
“Only if they shoot first,” Liam said. “If these are Rhee’s boys they will not surrender meekly. They’ll fight to the death, so we’d better be ready to do just that.”
They shot across Twenty-Fifth Street, followed the police cars. Just as the third one shot through the intersection, a van came flying out of Twenty-Fifth Street, made a hard right turn, and broadsided the third police car, crushing the entire passenger’s side the black and white vehicle and sending it sliding into a traffic light pole. As the van accelerated, gunfire from the van struck the cripple police vehicle, shattering windows and ripping through body work and the officers inside.
The van roared into pursuit of the other vehicles.
#
Ahead, the OUTCASTs pursued the dark Buick. The suspect car shot around a Nissan pickup, narrowly missing a cement truck coming from the other direction. Dante increased speed as the traffic in front of them got out of the way.