Kill Chain (27 page)

South Korea wouldn’t be
lost.

Though the cost of
victory might be impossibly high.

The side of a skyscraper
on their starboard side erupted, shrapnel bursting toward them, the massive
chunk now missing giving the appearance Godzilla had wandered across the Sea of
Japan and taken a bite out of Japan’s neighbor to the west.

“Hang on!”

Wings banked sharply
around another tower as the lead chopper took damage to its tail rotor, it
immediately beginning a slow spiral downward. Red leaped from his seat and
pressed against the window to see the decoy slam into the ground, smoke
billowing from its tail. A door opened and the civilians and crew poured out, a
fireball erupting moments later shoving them all off their feet.

“Are they okay?”

Red watched for a moment
then saw them all begin to rise, apparently unscathed. “Yes, Mr. President, I
think they all got out.” He activated his comm. “This is Evac Zero-Two to
Control. Evac-Zero-One is down with survivors. Send ground transport to collect
them and exfil to Evac Point Echo, over.”

“Roger that, Evac
Zero-Two. Transport on its way. ETA ten mikes.”

Wings swung them hard to
port, they now heading due south, threading between buildings in the business
district, flames and smoke blocking their view at times, the city ablaze. It
was something Red had thought he would never see in his lifetime—a modern, westernized
city under artillery attack.

Scores of planes followed
by attack helicopters were racing past them in the opposite direction, cruise
missiles and rockets tearing toward the North Korean positions.

The South and their
allies were responding with full force.

I wonder if ground
forces are involved.

“Jesus! Look down there!”

Red looked toward where
Wings was motioning and his eyes widened. Soldiers were in the street, firing
at civilians.

North Korean soldiers.

“How the hell did they
get here so fast?”

Unknown
Location
Seoul,
Republic of Korea

Explosions
in the distance had Niner on his feet, collective gasps from the others with
each impact confirming he wasn’t hearing things. He rushed toward the walls
where the tables loaded with food and supplies sat, slamming his fist on the
top.

Metal. Sturdy.

He tipped the closest
over, dumping its contents, then pulled it toward the couches. He grabbed the
glass table in the center and heaved it toward the door, it shattering on
impact, exactly as it would have if the building took a direct hit. He
positioned the metal table. “Quick, grab the tables and put them together!” Kim
leaped to her feet, Nancy following but Niner snagged her by the arm, pushing
her under the table he had just positioned. “Stay there!”

Nancy didn’t look happy, though
complied, he leaving her and grabbing another table, Kim already dragging a
second toward the center of the room, pushing it tightly against the first.
With the others working together, they had a three-by-two rectangle of tables
pressed together within minutes.

“Everybody under the
tables now!” Niner spun one of the couches around and pushed it against the
edge of the tables as the VIPs dropped to their knees and scurried underneath,
Kim figuring out what he was doing and helping. They quickly had a soft,
absorbent barrier surrounding their makeshift shelter. If they took a direct
hit, they were dead, though if it was far enough away, they just might be
protected enough to survive.

He held aside one of the
couches, shoving Kim inside just as a shell hammered into the ground outside,
the windows overhead shattering. He dove in after her as debris rained down on
them, the glass and framing slamming into the metal tables only inches over
their heads.

And it held.

He turned to Kim. “What
the hell is going on out there?”

But the question had only
one answer.

The North was attacking.

And their captors were no
longer their greatest threat.

Operations
Center 1
CIA
Headquarters, Langley, Virginia

“Christ,
we need to get the President out of there!”

Leroux shook his head at
Child’s outburst. “No, forget him—that’s not our job. We need to figure out why
whoever is behind this thinks we found him.”

Morrison burst into the
room, staring at the displays showing the bombardment of Seoul. “It wasn’t one
of our allies that found him.”

Leroux looked at his
boss. “Are we sure?”

Morrison nodded, eyes
still glued on the horror unfolding live before them. “The Vice President essentially
told them that if we found out after the fact that they were the ones who put
the hostages at risk, we’d take it personally.” He finally tore his eyes away
and turned to Leroux. “Nobody knows who found him.”

Leroux cursed. “You don’t
think it’s some private group?”

Morrison’s eyes narrowed.
“What, like a news organization? Or Anonymous?”

Leroux and Morrison
exchanged looks as their eyebrows rose. Leroux spun toward his team. “Okay,
contact everyone you know. We need to find out if there’s some private
initiative going on and stop them. They could have just triggered World War
Three.”

Crawford
Residence                
Forest
Hills, Washington, DC

“Have you
seen the news?”

Jeff nodded. “Yeah.”

Clarence moaned. “Oh,
man, this is so cool!”

“Yeah, look at that!”
shouted Vic, pointing off-screen, all three of them watching CNN’s live
coverage of the attack on Seoul. A skyscraper was collapsing, people jumping
from the shattered windows, those on the ground screaming in terror as they
sprinted uselessly out of the way, disappearing in a cloud of rolling dust and
debris.

No one coming out the
other end.

It reminded him of the
footage he had seen in school of the 9/11 attacks. It had affected him, though
not as much as this.

Today he had skin in the
game.

Nancy.

Clarence echoed his
thoughts. “It’s like that movie they showed us at school about the Twin
Towers.”

“Yeah,” agreed Vic. “That
was awesome! I would love to have been there!”

Jeff’s chest tightened
with rage. “Then you’re an idiot! Three thousand people died that day and they
didn’t do it for your amusement.”

“You’re such a buzzkill, dude.
I’m just joking.”

“Yeah, well it isn’t
funny.”

The dust was clearing,
images of mangled bodies and walking wounded now playing live, unfiltered.

They all fell silent.

It was Vic that finally
broke the silence, his voice subdued. “I guess you were right, man.”

“That looks like downtown
New York,” whispered Clarence. “Those could be Americans.”

Jeff agreed, the
pulverized concrete dust had instantly turned everyone chalk white, there no
Asians, blacks or whites in these images from Seoul.

There were just people.

Innocent people.

All living a horror no
one had thought would ever happen again.

“D-do you think we caused
this?” asked Clarence.

Jeff froze, his heart
slamming. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, we pinged that
IP address and like, not even five minutes later bombs are dropping.”

Jeff’s eyes shot wide
open. “Oh my God! I-I don’t know.” His jaw snapped shut as he leaned back,
gripping the stool between his legs. He stared at the others. “Man, what are we
going to do?”

Vic leaped toward his
keyboard. “I’m shutting down and wiping everything!”

“Me too!” cried Clarence,
both their images disappearing, leaving Jeff alone.

He reached for his
keyboard, about to do the same, when he stopped.

But what if we’re the
only ones who know the truth?

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

They had
been sitting for what felt like hours, glued to the television, their numbers
having grown slightly as other wives from the Unit had arrived when they heard
the news. There had been no further sightings of any of their men, though with
the shelling of Seoul now underway, what had been a hostage situation where
their loved ones would be perhaps participating in a rescue operation, was now
an all-out war.

Maggie hadn’t really been
worried when it was just a missing bus.

But now everything had
changed. No matter how good the training, sometimes an artillery shell had your
name on it, and there was nothing you could do.

Her stomach growled yet
again and she decided she was finished with obsessing. She leaped to her feet,
marching toward the kitchen. “Somebody start the barbecue. I’m not letting those
hamburgers go to waste!”

Shirley rose. “Good idea.
I’m going to go crazy if I watch any more of this. There’s nothing we can do
about it, and they’re with the President, so they must be safe.”

Vanessa remained seated.
“What makes you think that?”

“Because they evacuated
to some city in the south hours ago.”

Maggie grabbed the tray
of hamburgers that someone had wisely thought to put in the fridge then
returned to the living room as Joanne turned off the television, pulling
Vanessa to her feet. “Come on, Chef, don’t you want to cook your own burgers?”

Vanessa smiled weakly
then giggled when Joanne gave her side a little tickle. “Come on, the big guy
wouldn’t want you moping around. Feed us, Seymour! We’re hungry!”