OUTCAST Ops: Red Ice

CHAPTER SEVEN

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.

“Can you read the license plate?” Dante asked.

Stephen shook his head. “It’s obscured by some sort of glass.”

They went past Twenty-Fourth Street, both doing better than twice the speed limit. The Buick crossed the intersection with Twenty-Third, just missing a panel truck making a turn into Illinois. The Suburban missed the truck by even less.

The radio crackled to life. “3-Boy-15 to all units! 10–53! 3-Boy-19 has crashed at intersection of Twenty-Fifth and Illinois! Shots fired! 10–56! Suspects are in pursuit of us in a dark gray van!” The sounds of automatic weapons mixed with breaking glass and bullets hitting flesh stopped the transmission.

In the rear view mirror, Liam watched the rear-most police car veer off-course, cross the oncoming lane and crash into a parked car with enough force to send both vehicles onto the sidewalk.

“3-Boy-22 to all units!” a different voice said. “3-Boy-15 and 3-Boy-19 are both10-80! 10–56!”

Liam raised the radio mic. “3-Boy-22, this is Oscar-2. Take the lead in pursuit of the Buick. We’ll handle the 10–56.” He glanced back at the two men. “Steven, Danny, change seats. Dante, get ready to let Boy-22 past us, then block the road. Stephen, roll down the window and get ready to fire.” He lowered his own window.

Behind the police car, Liam could see a gray van coming up fast. “Dante, Now!”

Dante twisted the wheel to the left and the Suburban sped into the opposite lane, clear of traffic for the moment. The police car shot past the van. As soon as the car sped past, Dante jammed on the brakes and turned the SUV’s wheel to the right. The three-ton vehicle straddled the center line, blocking the road in both directions. As soon as the Suburban made the turn, Liam and Stephen had their P-90s out the windows, pointed at the oncoming van.

Someone in the van stuck an AK-47 out the open cargo side door. Liam snarled, “Fire!”

Firing 900 rounds per minute, it took both men less than four seconds to empty each fifty-round magazine. The van’s hood was ripped apart and the windshield shattered as a hundred slugs pierced both with ease. The van slowed and veered right, plowing into a pair of parked cars.

Liam and Stephen changed magazines amid the chaos.

“Danny!” Liam barked. “Cover us! Stephen, with me! Dante, get ready!”

“There’s an MP5 the bag!” Stephen yelled as he opened the door and climbed out. Choi dug into the bag until he found the German submachine gun.

Liam and Stephen advanced toward the crashed van, weapons held at the shoulder and pointing at the vehicle. Fifty feet from the van, the driver’s door was shoved open. The driver staggered out, wearing a cheap suit and clutching an AK-47 assault rifle. Blood covered his face, chest and hands, and the left side of his face had been ripped open. His left eye was missing. He screamed in fury as soon as he saw the pair and slowly tried to bring his weapon up to fire.

Both Liam and Stephen fired short bursts that struck the driver and staggered him, but he continued raising the assault rifle. Liam shifted targets and put a burst of 4.7mm rounds into the man’s head. With most of his head gone, the body dropped to the road.

The pair continued advancing. In the distance, they could hear more sirens, getting closer as they moved nearer to the van. Steam poured from the shattered radiator, forming a translucent cloud shrouding the front of the van. There was a thud from the back, something striking the doors. Another thud and the doors flew open. Both men stopped as another player climbed out of the van’s rear. As he shuffled into view, both OUTCASTs couldn’t believe what they saw. The man’s right arm was gone at the elbow, a belt strapped halfway up the upper arm. He had clearly been struck by several bullets in the torso and leg, but he still moving, a pistol in his good hand.

“Freeze!” Choi yelled, his MP5 up and pointed at the horrendously injured man.

The target, his face filled with hate, raised his pistol. Before he could aim, Liam shot him in the head with a four-round burst. The nearly decapitated man dropped to the roadway.

“Did we walk into a zombie movie by mistake?” Stephen yelled.

“Gotta be drugs,” Liam said. “Dan, cover the front. Me and Stephen will go around the back and check for survivors.”

They reached the van but didn’t find any more survivors. There were two more bodies in the van, both dead from multiple gunshots.

Liam adjusted the channel on his radio. “Oscar-2 to CHP H-30. Are you still tracking the bad guys?”

“Affirmative. Suspects just passed Twentieth Street, three police cars in pursuit.”

A SFPD car came to a stop twenty yards behind the van. Both officers came out with guns drawn. Liam placed the P-90 on the ground and approached the cops, his Homeland Security badge held out in front of him at arm’s length. One of the policemen came forward, examined the badge and ID, then motioned to his partner to stand down.

Liam pointed to the van. “Secure this crime scene. You have four DOAs, and messy ones at that. These are the bastards who took out Boy-Fifteen and Nineteen back there. We’re going after the snipers who shot up the pier a few minutes ago.”

The squeals of wheels made Liam turn in time to see Dante backing up the Suburban until it was only a few feet away. He picked up the P-90 and ran for the big SUV as Stephen and Choi got back into the SUV. Liam barely had enough time to leap into the front seat before the Suburban shot away from the crash scene, siren wailing.

They barreled through intersections, weaving their way through traffic that would not or could not get out of the way. They reached Twentieth where there were multiple explosions in rapid succession a quarter of a mile ahead. Liam used the vehicle’s radio as a cloud rose into the air. “Oscar-2 to CHP H-30. What happened?”

“Explosions at intersection of Mariposa and Illinois. Street’s impassable with badly damaged cars.”

“Do you see the suspect car?”

Twenty seconds ticked by. “Negative, Oscar. Between the explosions and the smoke, we lost them.”

Liam slammed his hand down on the padded dashboard. “Damn it!”

“What do you want to do?” Dante asked.

“Shut off the sirens. Let’s get back to the DEA office. Maybe Tanner and the others had better luck.”