They walked over to each other and embraced. “Damn girl,” Vessler said after they broke the hug. “Last I heard you’d been blackballed by the ATF. I never expected to find you—”
“Saving your ass?” Naomi finished with a grin. She became somber again. “Sorry we couldn’t get there earlier. Our plane got held up. You okay?”
Vessler scowled. “No, I’m not. I lost most of my team, including the SFPD backup. Heads are going to roll.” She looked Naomi up and down. “What are you doing? I could arrest you for half a dozen violations just looking at you!”
“Vess, will you chill out? I’m on the side of the angels.”
“But—”
“Agent Vessler?”
Vessler turned to look at a man walking up in a suit. Her first impression of him was Washington Bureaucrat, followed by the impression that he looked familiar. “And you are?”
“John Casey,” he said, sticking out a hand.
Vessler took the hand, placing the name with the face. John Casey was the former FBI director, now a special assistant to President Carmichael. Scuttlebutt inside the DEA had him handling clandestine operations, but exactly what that entailed, no one knew. “What are you doing here?”
“I was hoping to talk to you before your raid. I wanted my team to ride along.”
Vessler scowled. “This is your team from D.C.?”
“Well, they’re a team of independent contractors who do work for Uncle Sam.” Casey turned, looking for someone. “Tanner! Could you come over here?”
The man Vessler had pegged as the team leader walked over. In the headlights, she noticed his eyes were different colors. Casey motioned toward him. “Agent, this is Tanner Wilson, team leader for OUTCAST. Tanner this is DEA Special Agent Sarah Vessler.”
They shook hands, and Vessler could feel the strength in his arm and hand. “Sorry we were late,” he offered.
“Better late than never. We were getting slaughtered.” She looked at Casey. “Why did you want this team of yours along with for the ride, anyway? They don’t look like they arrest too many people.”
“Exactly because of what happened tonight.”
Vessler put her hands on her hips. “Look, I don’t care if you have the president’s ear or his — any other part of his body. I don’t need a group of rogue cowboys trampling all over my case!”
“Your case looks pretty well burnt,” Tanner said. “And if we had been any later, you and the rest of your agents would have been dead.”
Vessler bristled, but before she could reply, Casey stepped between them. “Enough. There’s too much emotion happening right now. I suggest that we all get some sleep and reconvene at the DEA office at nine A.M.”
“Fine!” Vessler hissed. She spun on a heel and walked off.
Tanner looked at Naomi. “Friend of yours?”
Naomi nodded. “We worked a few DEA-ATF cases together back in the day. More than once, we were the only girls in the boys club. We bonded over that.”
“I suggest you talk to her in the morning,” Casey said. “Better she’s with us than against us.”
CHAPTER FOUR
The warehouse’s break room had become Major Rhee Kyu-chul’s planning and conference center since his arrival in San Francisco. He sat at the head of the rectangular folding table and gave his subordinates a lingering glance.
There were three of them here, the fourth currently working on getting the new lab ready to go. He had worked with each man dozens of times, and they had developed the trust of comrades who had faced death together. “Assessment of Night Blade, Phase One?”
“It went well,” Captain Seonwoo Hun-Jai replied. In addition to being a sniper, Seonwoo was Rhee’s second-in-command. Of medium build, he was slightly taller than Rhee, with an angular face and sleepy eyes. To most people he looked like an accountant or a middle manager. Like the rest of Rhee’s men, however, he was anything but weak.
“Except for the intruders,” Captain Muhn Sae-Hyuk growled. Compared to the rest of Rhee’s unit, Muhn was a giant. A couple of inches over six feet, muscular with a shaved head and a long puckered scar running from below his left ear across his nose to end near the right corner of his mouth.
Rhee nodded. “Except for them.” He looked at the man at the other end of the table. “Sergeant, what is the status of our ‘Shock troops’?”
Rhee’s senior non-commissioned officer scowled. Chief Master Sergeant Hyoung In-sook, was a squat Korean who was slightly shorter than Rhee but broader in shoulder. He snorted by way of preamble to his reply. “About what you would expect, sir. Most were spooked when their comrades were killed.”
“How many of them can we depend upon?”
“None,” Hyoung said flatly. “Without the patbingsu, they are nothing but an unproductive waste of space. With the patbingsu, they are marginally useful as bullet-stoppers.”
“How many are left?”
“Twelve.”
Rhee glanced around the table. “We must increase our recruitment.”
“With all due respect sir,” Hyoung said, “we would be better off using fellow peasants from home. They can be trained. These Chinese-Americans?” He made a rude noise. “They are not worth the effort.”
“We must make the effort,” Rhee said. “With them acting as our shock troops, we can increase our strength, keep the American government chasing shadows, while keeping our men for the important missions. When we expand, we must recruit all sorts of unproductives.”
“Even beullaeg wonsung-i?”
“Especially them. With the unrest lately in the black community, there will be disaffected youths who will jump at a chance to strike at their oppressors.” Rhee smiled. “If we get enough of the beullaeg wonsung-i to fight for us, we can ignite a race war that will tear this country apart.”
Muhn appeared unconvinced. “I do not like using them. Most are monkeys, too stupid to be useful.”
“Those are the best kind, Captain. Stupid and disposable. For now, we’ll concentrate on recruiting more of the local Chinese-Americans. I want to consolidate our hold on this area before we commence with expansion.”
“What about Hong and his criminal gang?” Seonwoo asked. “How much longer must we rely on them?”
“As long as possible. Right now, they are a screen he can hide behind while we gather our strength. Once we are firmly established, then we can discuss their removal.”
“And the intruders from the pier?” Seonwoo asked. “They acted more like military than police.”
“A military special unit, in all probability. I will tap our local intelligence network and see if they can supply some illuminating data.” Rhee looked around the table again. “As it so happens, one of the U.S. president’s henchmen is in the city right now. The former head of their national police force.”
Seonwoo shook his head slowly. “That does not sound like a coincidence.”
“Maybe not, but we must continue our mission. I want to step the pressure up on the Americans.”
“In what way?”
“Hun, I want you to dispatch Sergeant Jee, three of our men and four of Sergeant Hyoung’s recruits to the wasteland north of pier 80. He is to observe the investigation and when he gets the chance, he will kill a couple of the investigators. If they chase you, use the recruits to ambush your pursuers. The more carnage we create, the better.”
Rhee looked at Muhn. “I want you to take two men, find the informer we used to set up the DEA, and kill him. He should still be in that hotel where we found him. I also want you to leave something for the Americans to find when they search the room. Again, the more bloodshed there is, the better for our cause.”