Counterfeit Lies

CHAPTER FORTY

As the team exited the Pilot, the men maneuvered with military precision toward the door. Using a heavy steel handheld battering ram, two men instantly destroyed the lock. As the door burst open, the third terrorist tossed a flash-bang grenade, designed to stun anyone within ten yards of the detonation. The bold flash of light essentially blinded an individual for five seconds while the loud blast deafened and incapacitated those in the room.

The grenade performed as advertised — momentarily disorienting everyone on the ground floor of Park’s residence with a thunderous explosion.

Kareem was the first to enter and looked left, his AK-47 in a combat-ready position. The security guard stumbled through the open door of his office located exactly as Candy detailed. From just a few feet away, Kareem fired a burst of five rounds, all striking the intended target.

The raiding party moved quickly, clearing the living room. Two of the men and Candy moved down the long hallway to the bedroom seeking Jenny and the child. Kareem and the other terrorist headed toward Park’s office. Pale smoke from the flash-bang and gunfire permeated the room and the smell of the pyrotechnic metal oxide mix hung in the air.

Park raced to the antique oak desk in his study and ducked down behind the heavy piece of furniture. Tommy followed, squatting next to Park.

“Do you have a gun?” asked Tommy.

“It’s in the safe,” said Park, pointing to a large oil painting on the far wall concealing a safe.

Before Tommy could mount a counterattack, the masked intruders kicked in the door to the study and Kareem rolled a second flash-bang into the room.

Tommy, not knowing the lethality of the device, threw himself on Park in an attempt to shield his boss. Though the flash-bang was far from deadly unless it detonated next to someone’s head, Tommy’s act of loyalty to his criminal mentor was the stuff of underworld legend.

The grenade’s concussion filled the room with noise and smoke. Two invaders rushed forward, circling the desk, with Kareem shouting in English for the two men to surrender. As Tommy moved to his left off Park, there was a moment of hesitation as he tried to recall where he had previously heard the voice of the lead gunman.

Adrenaline is a survival aid. It prompted Tommy to jump up from the floor and grapple with the nearest attacker, wrestling him to the ground. With a stranglehold around the Middle Eastern intruder’s neck, Tommy viciously bit the man’s ear, a pathetic shriek evidencing the pain, both men now struggling to survive.

With his free hand, Tommy reached for the intruder’s AK-47, which had fallen to the floor during the melee. Kareem, stunned the attack was unfolding in ways no one anticipated, saw Tommy grasp the weapon. As the two men wrestled for control of the dropped weapon, the bartending “wannabe” jihadist opened fire.

The burst of ten rounds from Kareem’s AK-47 had a predictable effect. Both Tommy and Kareem’s fellow jihadist were hit multiple times.

Tommy’s arm was shredded from the blast, flesh hanging from shattered bone. But with his good arm the Korean street hustler attempted to lift the intruder’s weapon and take aim at Kareem.

It was a futile effort. The “convert to the cause” unleashed another burst of fire at the young Korean criminal capitalist and finished him. Turning to the man Tommy had tried to shield, Kareem screamed at Park, cowering behind the desk, “Stay where you are! Arms, spread-eagle! Now!”

Park submitted to Kareem’s commands and sprawled on the floor, hands held far from his body. With his weapon trained on Park, Kareem moved to his Lebanese companion and noted the man was no longer struggling for breath as he lay in a large pool of blood.

Keeping the muzzle of his AK pointed at Park, Kareem squatted next to his terrorist partner and felt for a carotid pulse — he found none.

In the immediate aftermath of the grenades and gunfire, Kareem heard the whimpers of a child as the other three assailants pushed Soo Min, Jenny, and Gracie into the room. Blood poured from a large gash above Soo Min’s eye where she’d been pistol-whipped by one of the misogynistic Lebanese terrorists.

The attacker had Park’s wife by the hair, maintaining control as she fought her captor and struggled to get free. Jenny, a hood over her head, was compliant, controlled by the flex-cuffs securing her hands behind her back. The third intruder held the little girl, who screamed when she saw the slaughter.

“What happened?” asked the terrorist, referring to his friend lying on the floor as he tried to subdue a frightened Gracie.

“Later,” said Kareem.

One of the masked intruders picked up the weapon lying next to Tommy and slung it across his shoulder.

Soo Min struggled again, seeking to escape, and the jihadi pulled her toward him. She lost her balance but before she hit the floor, the attacker yanked hard on her jet-black hair, preventing her from collapsing. She screamed in pain and fear. The intruder swung the weapon, smashing it against the back of her head, opening another wound. Then he threw her to the floor.

Park, ignoring threats from Kareem, struggled to his feet to aid his wife but was greeted by the sharp slash across his face from the barrel of Kareem’s AK-47, draining him of what little strength remained. He crumpled to the floor and Kareem shouted, “If you get up again I will kill you!”

“Let the women go!” shouted Park.

“We don’t need the old one. You can have her but you’ll see the other two again when you answer our demands,” said Kareem as he threw a note at Park.

With that the attacker dragged Jenny and Gracie from the office, the young child’s shrieks echoing down the hallway. Park may have been a criminal and the agent of an enemy regime, but he was also a grandfather.

As the attackers were preparing to depart, the North Korean crime boss made another attempt to aid his unconscious wife. Kareem, in an act of gratuitous cruelty, turned from the doorway and smashed the butt of his AK-47 into the old man’s face. “Stay down!” he shouted as he fired off three rounds into the wall of the office. “We’ll be in touch.”