Three other passengers occupied the elevator, a pair of businessmen and a woman wearing a dress that ended above the knee. In Saenwoo’s worldview, the businessmen were parasites, feeding on the world’s downtrodden masses, while the woman was a whore, prostituting herself for wealth. He was confident he could kill all three without effort.
Keeping his sunglasses on and his face impassive, he looked around the elevator car. The elevator was all dark paneling, with recessed lighting and soft music from hidden speakers. He noticed the obvious security camera in the corner, but after more surveillance, he spotted a second camera in a less obvious location among the recessed lights. The elevator’s control panel wasn’t much different than any other one Seonwoo had seen before, only the brass plate was polished to a high sheen and the lights were all lit, except for the target floor. The only other slightly unusual thing was the card reader attached to the control panel.
The whore got off on the tenth floor while the businessmen left on the twelfth. Now alone, Seonwoo stared at the control panel, memorizing the security system. To access the target floor, a magnetic card would have to be run through the reader in order to activate that floor’s button. The number of cards in use at any one time was limited, issued by the hotel security office, and limited to two days before the cards became deactivated and had to be replaced.
Seonwoo exited the elevator on the seventeenth and studied the hall for a few seconds before he headed for the room. Despite being alone in the hall, he was alert for trouble. The enemy was dangerous; it would not be beyond them to have eyes everywhere.
He reached the room and rapped a coded knock on the door. It opened to the width of the security chain and Seonwoo could see an eye and half a head.
“One moment, sir,” a man said softly in Korean. After hearing the chain lock being removed, the door opened all the way. The doorman, Ryeon Seung-won, stepped back, beckoning for Seonwoo to come in.
“Everyone here?” Seonwoo asked in Korean as he walked past Ryeon.
“Yes sir,” Ryeon replied.
The room seemed smaller with ten soldiers in it, even more so when they all stood and came to attention. Seonwoo motioned for them to be at ease.
The room was larger than Seonwoo’s own quarters back in North Korea, but still smaller than the suite they would be attacking. The double beds had weapons lain on them; one bed supported a mix of VZ-61 Skorpion machine pistols, MAC-10s, Uzis, and a pair of AR-15s, The pistols on the other bed were also a mixed bag — S&W Model 39s, Colt M1911A1s, Browning Hi-Powers and a single Desert Eagle. There was also a pair of Russian-made KS-23 shotguns, along with a dozen grenades and magazines for the different weapons.
Seonwoo glanced around the room for a moment, gauging his men’s mood, then turned to Yoon Kwang-ho. “Do you have the floor plans?”
The sergeant nodded and motioned toward a man sitting in front of a laptop at the desk. “Yuh has them.”
Seonwoo walked over to Yuh. “Let me see.”
Yuh, one of a group of North Korean Special Forces soldiers trained by the Chinese in computer hacking, turned the laptop so his commander could see the screen. Seonwoo studied the floor plans for a couple of minutes, then said, “What about security access?”
“Already taken care of. I cracked the network and gained access to the elevator and stairwell security systems.” He motioned to a pair of cards with magnetic strips lying next to the laptop. “They’ve been programmed with the right security code. We are lucky — the codes are to be changed later today.”
“What about the security cameras?”
“I can kill them anytime you want, as well as jam all the phones and cell phone signals on the top five floors.”
“Good.” He looked around the room at his men before reaching into a pocket and pulling out a strip of paper with skin patches on them. “The major has ordered all of us to wear one of these.”
“What is it?” Yoon asked the question on all of their minds.
“It’s a drug to help you fight better. It has been decided that you will be the first Democratic People’s Republic troops to use this in battle. It has already been tested by others, and now it is our turn. You will love it. I use it myself.” Seonwoo pulled a patch from the strip and stuck it to his wrist before passing the paper to Yoon.
“Everyone take one.”
After the patches had been passed out, Seonwoo glanced at his watch and addressed his men. “The target is to be taken alive if possible. If not, we are to kill him. Everyone else on the floor is to be killed on sight. Let’s go.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The dark blue van painted with the logo of a commercial painting company moved at a leisurely pace. The street on which it traveled was narrow and one-way, with four and five-story buildings on either side, giving it an enclosed feeling. Most of the ground floors were businesses, with colorful signs in both Chinese and English. Traffic was heavy, both vehicle and pedestrian, most people not knowing what was happening only a few miles away. Here, there was no sign the city was under attack.
“There’s Waverly.” Tanner motioned to the street coming up on the left. “The entry should be … right there!” He pointed at a red sign with golden Chinese lettering past Waverly, on the same side of the street. He frowned when he saw two people standing there, one standing in an open parking space in front of the building, the other standing on the sidewalk. “Vessler?”
Choi, who stood in the empty parking space, stepped up onto the sidewalk, allowing the van to take the spot. Tanner climbed out, mindful of the traffic, and went around the front of the van. Vessler met him. “What are you doing here?”
“We lucked out. Bill Derer had to cut his vacation short because a case he’s lead on got rescheduled and the prosecutor wanted a meet today.” She exhaled slowly. “Good news, for once.”
“Not so good,” Tanner replied. He told her about what Casey had relayed.
Vessler’s face darkened. “Son of a bitch!” she hissed.
“Later,” Tanner said sharply. “We have something to do.”
“Top floor.”
Liam, who had climbed out of the van heard Vessler and looked up. “At the top?” he said. “Is there an elevator?”
“Nope,” Vessler replied with an evil grin, then her expression faded into grim determination. “We’d better get moving. We’ve already spotted a couple of the Triad’s senior leadership heading into the restaurant. The meet is on.”
“All right, people!’ Tanner called out loudly. “The sooner we get this painted the sooner we get paid. Move it!”
They unloaded the painting supplies and carried them inside, up five flights of stairs. Vessler led the way, unlocking the door to an office that had East-Asian Imports, LTD painted on the glass door. The paint was fading and the door was worn and scuffed from years of use.
The inside was just as faded and worn as the door. Liam looked around. “Very 1940s.”
A wooden desk sat facing the door. Several chairs were off to one side against a wall and a few filing cabinets lined the opposite wall. Some framed thrift shop oil paintings hung on the walls along with a map of the city that was four decades out of date. A wooden door marked “Private” sat opposite the glass door. A single window on the right wall let in enough light to see by. A fine layer of dust covered everything, adding to the room’s overall feel of disuse.
Dante, the last one in, closed the door behind him. “Nice place. Doesn’t look like it does a lot of business, though.”
“It’s a DEA front operation,” Choi explained. “We use it once in a while for undercover operations and for meetings with undercover agents or confidential informants who need a face-to-face. It’s cheaper to pay the rent then it is to scramble for a temporary office set up. We’re just lucky we happen to have this one so close to the meeting point.”