Act of War

CHAPTER 39

The self-storage lot had been chosen well. It was a mom-and-pop operation on a quiet road without a lot of traffic. It was the exact type of location Cheng would have chosen himself.

Driving the lanes between the rows of outdoor storage units, he studied the numbers. When he found the one he was looking for, he brought his vehicle to a stop parallel to the door and killed the engine.

He had already done one slow loop around. No one was there. He was completely alone. Stepping out of the Navigator, he walked around behind it and over to the storage locker door. He double-checked the number against the slip of paper in his hand—26. He was at the right spot.

With a small flashlight, he searched the frame of the metal roll-up door until he found it. It was a clear, tamperproof decal no one would have noticed had they not been looking for it. It was still intact, telling Cheng that no one had entered the storage unit since the items had been placed inside. Turning his attention to the heavy, high security combination lock, he rotated the five wheels on the bottom into place and the lock released.

Removing it from the hasp, he bent over and pulled the door open high enough to slip underneath. At the back of the unit were several boxes, two of them about a foot wide and almost five feet tall, all stacked upon a faded wooden pallet. He approached the boxes cautiously. Using his car key, he sliced the tape and opened each box to verify the contents and make sure everything was there.

He began with the tallest box and worked his way through the pile. Except for the heavy metal cylinders, everything was contained in its own hard-sided storage case. There was one case in particular that Cheng did not want to open. He took little comfort in the assurances Colonel Shi had given him that it was perfectly safe. After removing its locks, he lifted the lid and looked inside. He had been shown a picture of it before leaving China, but somehow he had thought it would look different. Instead, it just sat there looking rather benign. It was amazing to think that something of that size had the potential to end so many lives.

Closing all of the lids, he relocked the cases, and placed them back into their cardboard boxes.

He had a roll of packing tape in the SUV and he returned to get it. Opening the Navigator’s rear door, he reached across the seat for the plastic bag containing his supplies. As he did, he heard a car nearing. Unless it was someone retrieving a boat to go fishing in the morning, it wasn’t a good sign.

In an instant, Cheng made his decision. Leaving the bag, he stepped onto the backseat and then grabbed the roof rack to pull himself up. After quietly closing the Navigator’s door from above, it was a simple step onto the metal roof of the storage unit.

He lay down on his stomach, slid back several feet from the edge, and waited.

When the car came down his lane, the first thing he noticed was that it didn’t have its lights on. Another bad sign. He removed the suppressor and threaded it onto the barrel of his Smith & Wesson.

No sooner did he have it affixed to the front of the pistol than a bright searchlight began sweeping both sides of the lane below. Was it some sort of private security service, or was it the police? He doubted a private security service would drive around with their headlights off. Their job was to present a visible presence in order to deter crimes. It had to be the police.

The vehicle came to a stop a couple of car lengths behind his SUV. Cheng lay completely still. He thought he discerned the muted squawk of a police radio coming from an open window.

It was an unfortunate circumstance. Cheng didn’t look down his nose at police officers. He admired them. They had a very difficult job, which required a tremendous amount of courage. Whoever was down there was simply unlucky. They had shown up in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or, he wondered, were the authorities on to him?

Did they know he had switched boarding passes and that he had killed two men since arriving in the United States? Were they looking for Bao Deng, or worse, Tai Cheng? Was this random, or was it something more? There was no way to tell.

None of it mattered, though. Not with what was inside the storage unit. No one could be allowed to see that.

He listened as one of the vehicle’s doors was opened. He then waited for a second. It never came. Whoever was down there was alone. Cheng prepared to act.

He visualized the officer’s position by listening to his boots on the asphalt. The officer probably had a flashlight, maybe even one mounted to his weapon. He would have seen that the storage unit door was partially open, but he would check the Navigator first to make sure no one was inside.

Using his forearms, Cheng crept to the edge of the roof and peered over. It was indeed the police. He could see the officer, behind the SUV. He had a flashlight in one hand and his pistol in the other. He had been squatting, shining the light beneath the partially open roll-up door.

Straightening up, he now began to back away. When he reached for the microphone at his shoulder, that’s when Cheng fired.

He depressed the trigger twice in rapid succession. The pistol bucked in his hands, punctuated by two muffled spits. Each of the nine-millimeter hollowpoints found its mark, killing the officer instantly.

Hopping down from the roof, Cheng checked to confirm that the man was dead. He was. The back of his head was blown away and one of the rounds had exited his left eye.

Cheng needed to move quickly. When the officer failed to report back in, backup would be sent, if it wasn’t already on the way.

Climbing down from the roof, he stepped to the police cruiser and popped the trunk. It took him only a second to find what he needed. Returning to the officer, he removed his radio and threw it on the Navigator’s front passenger seat. He then dragged the corpse out of the way and reentered the storage locker.

There wasn’t enough time to load everything, so he made a beeline for the most important item, the one that absolutely could not be left behind.

Picking up the box, he carried it back to the SUV, opened the tailgate, and slid it into the cargo area.

Closing the tailgate, he started the Navigator and pulled it forward. After climbing out, he backed the patrol car into the storage unit, so that the bumper of the cruiser was pressed up against the boxes stacked upon the pallet.

Flipping open the cruiser’s gas tank cover, he unscrewed the cap and, taking the top off one of the flares he had retrieved from the trunk, wrapped it in a rag and shoved it into the opening. Next, he dragged the body of the dead cop into the unit and placed him behind the wheel.

With everything ready to go, he ignited his second flare, tossed it on the backseat of the squad car, and exited the storage locker.

Rolling down the steel door, he replaced the padlock, slid back into the Navigator, and drove away from the storage facility.