Rogue Operator (36 page)

Footsteps
could be heard rushing down the hallway, and just as he got the cabinet in
place, he could hear pounding on the door and Kwon’s voice shouting, along with
several others. Phil scrambled the few feet to the inner lab door, which he
thankfully found unlocked, and entered. He rushed over and grabbed the glass
panel covering the EMP’s emergency switch, but the glass didn’t budge.

There
was a lock on it.

“No!” he
cried, then looked back into the outer lab, where the cabinet was slowly being
forced out of the way by repeated body slams at the door. He shut the inner lab
door and pushed a desk against it, then rushed to the nearest computer station,
launching the EMP control software. A crash in the next room signaled their
entry. The software appeared on the screen and he heard them hit the inner
door. The desk moved. He propped a foot up against the desk, pushing back, as
he quickly typed in commands.

Gunshots
rang out, tearing at the door, and he ducked, entering the final command to
activate the EMP while ducking. He fell to the ground, then pushed against the
desk with all his might, fighting the combined strength of an unknown number on
the other side as the gunfire stopped. He silently counted to two minutes in
his head, but it wasn’t until he heard the whine of the machine after the first
minute that he finally breathed a sigh of relief, knowing the machine was
working.

Then a
horrible thought crossed his mind.

What
if they built in their own cut off?

His mind
raced, and it quickly came to the only conclusion possible. He pushed away from
the desk, letting his captors shove their way through, raising his hands and
shouting, trying to distract them from the noise of the machine, just those
precious few seconds before they might be able to activate some hidden cutoff
switch he knew nothing about.

“Don’t
shoot! Don’t shoot! I’m sorry, I thought Kwon was going to shoot me, I
panicked. I’m sorry! Please don’t shoot!” He kept repeating this as a blue
jumpsuit raced toward him, machine gun in hand, and slammed it into his face.

He
dropped, continuing to shout while covering himself, all the while counting the
seconds in his head.

Ten.

Kwon
yelled, holding out his hands as if telling everyone to be quiet.

Nine.

The room
silenced, except for Phil’s shouts. He received a blow to the stomach that took
the wind out of him, and his ability to talk.

Eight.

Panic
spread across Kwon’s face as he spun toward the sound of the EMP.

Seven.

He turned
on his heel, shouting at the other guards, waving his hands desperately for
them to get out of his way.

Six.

Kwon
pushed toward the door, shoving a confused guard aside.

Five.

Kwon
stumbled over the guard, rushing for the door, one hand touching the ground as
he pushed himself back to his feet.

Four.

Kwon
kicked the door aside, exiting the lab as Phil leaned to his side to keep his
handler in view.

Three.

Kwon
rushed across the floor of the outer lab, his knee catching on the overturned
cabinet, nearly knocking him off his feet, but to Phil’s dismay, he recovered
quickly.

Two.

A small control
panel on the wall that Phil hadn’t noticed before is ripped open by Kwon. Phil
felt his mouth begin to swim with bile.

One.

Phil
squeezed his eyes shut as he saw Kwon reach for a button.

But it
was too late.

The
pulse sounded, sending a rippling feeling of static electricity through his
body, and moments later, there was nothing but an eerie silence.

And
several screaming North Koreans who began to rain blows upon his body. As the
pain began to overtake him, he curled up into a ball, crying out for them to
stop, as his mind slowly shutdown. He could feel himself slipping into
darkness, and he welcomed the relief, as one thought dominated his mind, above
all else including the pain.

In
the end, you did the right thing.

Two miles from the coast

Kane saw a flicker in the rearview mirror, then the horizon behind
them went dark. A smile spread across his face as he gripped the steering wheel
even harder. He didn’t risk taking his eyes off the dark road for a second, but
felt the others should know.

“He did
it.”

“What?”
asked Jason in the front seat with Darius on his lap.

“He did
it. The lights just went out at the compound. He must have activated the EMP.”

He felt
Carl’s hand on his shoulder, as his other hand slapped Jason on his. “So we can
all go home. There’s no more risk.”

Kane had
to smile at the naiveté of civilians. A single part of the plan goes correctly,
and they think they’re home free. Meanwhile they still had two miles to go to
the coast, then they had to make their rendezvous, which was still doubtful.

And he
still had a loose end to tie up.

Headlights
behind him sent his heart leaping, and his foot pressing harder against the
accelerator. “Everybody hang on tight!” he yelled as he saw the road suddenly
end ahead. He floored it. The jeep flew across the ditch, hitting the other
side with a jolt, but Kane maintained control, roaring down the hill, surveying
the area for his outcropping of rock. Spotting it, he turned toward it, then
slammed the brakes on, turning off the jeep.

“Carl,
with me, everyone else to the beach,” he ordered, jumping out of the jeep and
rushing toward the outcropping. He dropped to his knees, reaching under the
outcropping blind, praying some nosy local hadn’t found his gear.

Then he
felt it.

He
grabbed on and pulled hard, the backpack frame, with everything still attached,
coming loose easily once he had a good grip. “Grab the other end,” he said to
Carl, then grabbed the front, and the two of them carried it down to the beach
like a stretcher. Once at the water he dropped it to the ground, then pulled
the first bundle off, pulling a rip cord and tossing the bundle at the water.
“Peterson’s inside that, now!”

He
pulled the other bundle, yanked the ripcord, and threw it at the water, then
pulled the final bundle, and tossed it into the rapidly inflating boat. He saw
the Peterson’s had already grabbed the sides of their boat, and were walking it
deeper into the water, the experienced Peterson guiding his family. Kane
noticed it had enough rigidity for them to get in.

“Peterson’s,
in now, assemble your paddles, and paddle as fast as you can away from the
shore. Anyone not paddling, lays low!” Maggie placed Darius in the boat, then
helped Ayla inside, then tumbled over the side herself, followed quickly by
Jason. Kane rushed to the side of his boat. “Shephard’s in!” The son jumped in,
followed by his mother and father, then Kane followed, grabbing the paddles and
assembling them, handing the first to Carl, then once assembled, dipping his
into the water. He and Carl quickly had a good rhythm going, and soon caught up
to the Peterson’s who were struggling, Maggie’s inexperience hampering them.

“Look!”
yelled Phoebe.

Kane
looked behind them to where she was pointing and a row of headlights lined the
shore, their beams interrupted as their occupants jumped out. Small flashes
suddenly appeared, and the sound of gunfire quickly followed.

“Faster!”
yelled Kane, who then looked at Charlie on the floor. “Kid, grab that line and
toss it to the other boat.” The teenager nodded, grabbing the rope he was lying
on top of, and hurling it toward the other slower craft. Peterson caught it and
tied it to the front of their boat, then resumed rowing. Kane could feel the
tug from the slower boat, but at least now they were together, and no one would
be left behind. A shot whipped by his ear, and he handed the oar to Charlie.
“You row.” The boy, showing remarkable courage, jumped up and took his position
opposite his father, rowing like an expert. Kane pulled the Chinese made AK 47
from the third bundle, then opened fire on the beach, aiming for the lights
rather than the men. The gunfire ceased, and a few of the lights were taken
out, but as they regrouped, he slung the spent weapon over his shoulder,
realizing that his muzzle flashes would only reveal their position.

They
were making good time, and rather than take over from the strong, experienced
teenager, he peered ahead, into the darkness, but saw nothing.

Where
the hell are they?

Suddenly
he heard bullets pinging off metal to his left. He turned and saw the dark
silhouette of their rendezvous, the USS Buffalo, blocking out the stars as it
loomed overhead.

“Left!”
he yelled, and he saw Charlie dip his oar, holding it stationary as the boat
turned, then resume his paddling as they closed in on the looming mass.
Suddenly muzzle flashes erupted, illuminating the entire length of the
submarine. He turned back and saw the shore position being torn apart, the
vehicles quickly going dark, the men that survived scattering.

They hit
the side of the hull, and he heard shouts from overhead as lines were thrown to
them. Kane helped Charlie up first, then Phoebe, and finally Carl, before
climbing up himself. He rushed down the deck, pulling on the ropes with the
Peterson’s, the crew of the sub ushering everyone down an access hatch to
safety.

Kane
turned to the senior man on the deck, flashed him a salute, and with his bundle
in hand, jumped overboard, and back into the dark, cold waters.

Outside the International Cooperation Center, North Korea

Kane peered through the scope of his Chinese made QBU-88 sniper
rifle, scanning the entire compound for any activity that might indicate where
Phil Hopkins might be. After jumping off the submarine, he had made the chilly
swim to further down shore from their pursuers, then pretty much sprinted the
six miles back, only twice having to avoid patrols. It was exhausting, it was
grueling, it was something he’d done before, and probably would do again.

And it
was absolutely necessary.

For Phil
Hopkins was the last loose end. With the other scientists and their families
safely aboard an American submarine, heading to Okinawa and home, and with the
research destroyed, he had to take care of Hopkins. And unfortunately, rescue
was not an option. He had done the wrong thing, but in the end, had come clean,
done the right thing, and in Kane’s mind, restored some of his honor. Restoring
it all was impossible. The man had betrayed his country, his friends, and his
principles, all for greed.

Kane had
no doubt the North Koreans were going to kill the poor guy, but it would be
weeks if not months from now, after unimaginable torture. Torture no human
being deserved to go through.

Kane saw
activity at the International Cooperation Center and swung his scope back to
the main entrance.

Bingo!

He saw
Hopkins, between two guards clad in blue jumpsuits, barely able to walk, his
white dress shirt torn and stained dark with blood. His face was almost
unrecognizable.

Let’s
end this for you, shall we?

Kane
squeezed the trigger, and Hopkins dropped a moment later, his upper torso now
sporting a six inch hole in the back. Kane said a silent prayer as he abandoned
the Chinese—
not
American—weapon, heading back to his prearranged backup
rendezvous with a potato delivery truck.

Li’s Photo, Zhongguancun E Plaza, Beijing, China

Kane knew the sign said closed, but he never let a locked door stop
him. He quickly had it picked, and stepped inside. Noises were coming from
deeper inside, in Chinese, and Kane had to strain to hear what was being said.

“Don’t
you dare finish first.”

“Then
hurry up woman, I’m not made of lead.”

Kane bit
his finger, trying not to laugh.

“I’m
getting close.”

Kane
bumped into the counter, making a noise.

“Somebody’s
there,” said Chan.

“I don’t
care, don’t you dare stop or I’ll never let you touch me again.”

“Don’t
make threats woman that I actually want you to keep.”

“You’re
an ass, husband, you—are—an—ass!”

Moans
and grunts and cries and all the other animalistic sounds of a successful bump
and grind session erupted, and Kane squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his
fingers against his ears. The mental image presented to his closed eyelids
forced him to open his eyes again.

“Now who
the hell is out there?” yelled Chan.

“It’s
just me,” said Kane in English.

“Ohh,
big boy, you come in here now!”

It
sounded like an order from Chan’s wife that he better obey. Kane stepped into
the back room to find Chan’s tiny wife still on top of him, her head resting on
his chest.

He’s
right, the parts
don’t
line up.

“What
the hell do you want?” asked Chan.

“Just
wondering if I’m still rogue.”

Chan
shook his head. “No, you’ve been cleared. Your package is sitting right there.”
He nodded toward a brown manila envelope sitting on top of a stack of papers.
Kane picked it up and peered inside. Wallet, ID, passport, plane ticket, cash.
He smiled and winked at the couple.

“Sorry
to interrupt.”

“Bullshit.
Did you hear the news?”

“No,
what?”

“The
North Koreans are claiming the EMP you set off was a successful nuke test.”

Kane
chuckled. “Anything to save face.”

Chan
laughed, then motioned toward the door with his chin. “Now get the hell out of
here before my wife decides she wants to upgrade.”