Gasping for breath, Mac moved from the alcove and followed Sammy down the hall to a door. The door was locked but they could see behind the security glass a room that looked not unlike the bridge of a modern container ship.
‘Ready?’ said Sammy
‘For what?’
‘This is the C and C room for the Taepodong-2,’ said Sammy. ‘It’s a copy of the North Koreans’ mission control at Pondong-ni.’
‘So…?’
‘But destroying this won’t do anything,’ said Sammy. ‘If Dozsa got the whole file that was downloaded from Aussie intel, then he can access the North Korean missile program whenever he wants.’
The sound of gunfire got louder and something blew up.
‘Let’s take this part slow,’ said Sammy.
‘I don’t see why we don’t just blow the whole place,’ said Mac, uncomfortable about having the mission seized by a Yank with strange agendas.
‘Dozsa might have a copy of the file,’ said Sammy, taking his keyring from his pocket again.
‘Any file taken from Aussie intel’s security system is no-copy,’ said Mac. ‘That’s why Dozsa needed the stolen Top Secret desktop system to get the download. That’s what he had Quirk using in the Mekong Saloon.’
‘Yeah, well,’ said Sammy, opening the door and pushing through, ‘that’s your story.’
Grabbing Sammy, Mac pulled him around. ‘Listen, there is no file copy — we can blow this whole place right now.’ He tapped his backpack.
‘You brought charges?’ said Sammy, nervous.
‘Of course I brought charges,’ said Mac, sweat running onto his top lip. ‘This shuts down the entire Pao Peng power grab.’
‘Who do you work for, McQueen?’ Sammy sneered. ‘The West or the Chinks?’
Mac noticed how people like Sammy could use a racial description that Mac wasn’t allowed to use himself. ‘Keeping the Chinese out of a war around the South China Sea is good for the West, Sammy, and that means stopping a rogue like Pao Peng before he gets going.’
‘You really think my bosses are going to allow that?’ said Sammy.
‘Allow it?’ Mac gripped Sammy’s arm. ‘This is an Aussie gig, Tonto — I don’t need your permission.’
‘I’m sorry, McQueen.’ Sammy’s expression changed as he cocked his handgun. ‘Dozsa’s room stays live.’
The truth of it dawned on Mac. The Americans didn’t want an end to this program: they wanted to own it and run it themselves, probably with deniable contractors, just as Pao Peng had used Dozsa’s services.
‘You’re nuts,’ said Mac. ‘We have a chance to end Pao Peng’s Greater China fantasy right here.’
‘Pao Peng will find another way,’ said Sammy, pistol coming up to Mac’s sternum. ‘I’m sorry, buddy — I have my orders. Drop the guns.’
‘You’re a wanker, Chan,’ said Mac, dropping his handgun and rifle as he was ushered into the room by Sammy.
‘You don’t need to die, McQueen, just stay out of my way.’
Mac saw the banks of screens and four Koreans sitting in front of them. Walking to the main console, Sammy issued commands in Korean as he waved the gun at them.
Standing slowly, one of them argued and Sammy shot him in the heart and then between the eyes before he hit the floor.
The others put their hands in the air and the one Sammy addressed nodded so hard it looked like his head would fall off.
The yes-man jogged to a PC running below the screens and tapped on the keyboard.
‘They’re already in,’ said Sammy, marvelling at the visual displays on the wall. ‘Look at those screens — that’s the North Korean Army’s C and C systems we’re looking at. That’s what the technicians are looking at in Pondong-ni, right now. We’re going into the ten-minute launch countdown.’
‘Can’t we stop it?’ said Mac.
‘Hang on,’ said Sammy. ‘I want to see how it works.’
After exchanging words with the Korean technician, Sammy turned to Mac. ‘Thanks to Ray Hu’s excellent buying, this system is cloning and mimicking every router and switch in the North Korean network — this is beautiful.’
‘Let’s grab the file and get out of here,’ said Mac, agitated.
‘Just hang on.’ Sammy brought his handgun back to Mac’s heart.
After another stream of Korean, the technician stared at Sammy wide-eyed, shaking his head. When Sammy pointed the gun at his head, the man continued to protest but used a mouse to change one of the screens.
Looking closer, Mac could see what the technician was altering: the screen showed the North Pacific, featuring a small white cross in the middle of the ocean at which the missile was being aimed. As Mac watched the screen, the white cross moved westwards.
‘Sammy, what are you doing?’
The Korean technician, on hearing Mac’s tone, turned and yelled at Sammy, tears in his eyes. He wore a third eye before he hit the floor.
‘You,’ said Sammy, at another technician with his arms raised.
The technician ran to replace his dead colleague, and the cross continued moving, out of the North Pacific to Japan.
‘No, Sammy,’ said Mac, moving towards the American before facing the barrel of the handgun.
‘I like you, McQueen,’ said the American. ‘But I will shoot you.’
‘What the hell are you doing, Sammy?’ said Mac, raising his hands further as Sammy’s gun steadied between his eyes. ‘You can’t target Tokyo — who the hell do you work for?’
One of the major themes of the Australian Secret Intelligence Service since Mac had joined was the emphasis on stability in the region. Mac was watching that come undone in front of him.
‘I’d never bomb Tokyo,’ said Sammy, smiling. ‘Watch this, McQueen.’
As the technician shook his head and the first tears rolled down his face, Mac saw why. The small white cross wasn’t stopping on the Japanese capital — it continued westwards, across the Sea of Japan and the Korean Peninsula until it came to rest on a thick black circle.
Beijing.
Chapter 69
‘No, Sammy,’ said Mac, not believing what he was seeing. ‘Not this.’
‘Why not?’ said Sammy. ‘There’s only one way to deal with North Korea and that’s to have the Chinese do it.’
‘A missile bearing down on Beijing?’ said Mac. ‘The Chinese won’t deal with North Korea, they’ll turn it into a car park.’
‘I agree,’ said a voice, and looking up, Mac saw Joel Dozsa at a small observation window looking down on the control room. A shot cracked from Dozsa’s rifle and as Mac turned to dive under a desk, he saw Sammy collapsing on the floor, a bloody cavity in his chest.
Three more shots thwacked into the lino floor, spraying Mac with blood and concrete dust. It was obvious Dozsa didn’t want to put holes in his control room, and looking across the floor Mac saw Sammy was bleeding out over his M4.
Putting his foot out, Mac dragged at Sammy’s body, trying to retrieve the rifle, but Dozsa shot at him.
The harsh screech of Korean filled the hallways as Dozsa yelled a command, unable to leave his window to walk around and enter the control room.
One of the technicians walked behind the console, bending to pick up Mac’s discarded rifle. Seeing a limited opportunity, Mac accelerated in a running crouch from behind the desk, hitting the Korean in a ball-and-all tackle as a bullet pinged off the floor from Dozsa’s rifle. Taking the Korean in a twisting grapple tackle, Mac hid behind the man’s profile as they sailed through the air.
Landing as the Heckler bounced free, Mac realised the Korean was dead, two shots in his chest intended for Mac. Grabbing at the rifle’s stock, Mac managed to pull it back without getting one of Dozsa’s bullets in his hand.