“Have someone take my post here,” he barked into his condensor mike. “I’m going to check it out.”
“We’ll handle this,” Scanlon snapped. “Stay your position.”
“I don’t think so.” Bolan had already grabbed his carbine and was moving away from the garbage Dumpster. “I’m on my way.”
ONCE HE’D SLIT the throat of the FBI agent he’d taken by surprise, Hong Sung-nam eased the man’s body to the ground, then crouched behind the nearest brush and wiped the blood from the razor-sharp, serrated edge of his combat knife. Thirty yards to his right, Yokota Ch’ang, the REDI agent he’d selected back in Goffs when Cho Il-Tok had failed to return to the safehouse, was sheathing the knife he’d just driven through the heart of a second Bureau officer. Two other Americans farther up the hillside had already been quietly dispatched by the Koreans. The third member of Hong’s team, Tahnk Woo-Ki, was nowhere to be seen; Hong assumed he was hiding somewhere off in the brush.
The REDI team leader was helping himself to the dead man’s pistol when Yokota caught up with him.
“I don’t like this,” Yokota whispered. “They know we’re coming.”
“I can see that,” Hong snapped. He was getting fed up with the whining of subordinates. Whatever happened to the days when underlings could be relied on to do their jobs without complaint?
“What do we do?” Yokota asked.
“Let me think!”
Hong stared downhill at the housing development. The plan had been for him and the others to slip into Kang’s home and hopefully take him alive so that they could question him as to the whereabouts of Shinn Kam-Song. But now it seemed clear that the Americans were in on the game plan. Hong felt a twinge of recrimination. Part of him suspected that Cho Il-Tok had been apprehended in Laughlin and blown the whistle on the operation, but he also knew there was a chance that the list of defectors he’d left back in Koreatown had provided the tipoff. In either case, it was clear that the mission had been compromised. He doubted now that Kang was even home. More likely, he figured, there were more Americans at the house, lying in wait.
Yokota broke Hong’s train of thought, hissing, “There’s another one!”
Yokota was pointing downhill. Hong peered toward the cul-de-sac and saw a man breaking clear of a trash Dumpster set between Kang’s house and another of the completed homes. The man darted between the two houses and made his way toward the foothills. He was carrying some kind of assault rifle. And, as if this weren’t enough cause for concern, Hong heard a sudden drone to his right and glanced over to see the blinking lights of a helicopter rising up into view less than a mile away. The chopper was mounted with a searchlight; as Hong watched, the high-powered beacon began to rake the ground below. It wouldn’t be long before the Koreans found themselves caught up in the harsh glow.
Hong knew he had no choice but to abort the mission and retreat. And the last thing he wanted to deal with was having a panicked colleague dogging his heels as he tried to escape the trap that had been set for them.
“We need to split up,” Hong told Yokota. “Stay here until I reach the ridge line, then follow me to the car.” Their getaway vehicle was parked a mile away on the other side of the hills.
Hong started to move away but Yokota grabbed his arm.
“I’m not staying here!” the younger man said. “I’m going with you!”
“You’ll wait like I said!” Hong snapped, shoving Yokota’s hand away. “That’s an order!”
Yokota glanced back down the hillside. The American was still a good hundred yards away, but he was clearly headed their way. Behind him, the door leading to Kang Moo-Hyun’s rear patio swung open and another two armed figures bolted out of the house.
“I’m going with you!” Yokota repeated, falling into step beside Hong.
There was no time to argue. Hong rushed uphill a few yards, then abruptly stopped and whirled, raising the pistol he’d taken off the FBI agent he’d just slain. The gun was equipped with a sound suppressor and when Yokota stumbled into Hong, the senior agent jabbed the barrel into the other man’s chest and pulled the trigger. Yokota staggered back a step and stared at Hong, dumbfounded.
“You left me no choice,” Hong told the other man.
Yokota made as if to lunge at Hong but crumpled to the ground before he could make his move. Hong left the man to die and crouched low as he began to retrace his steps back up the hillside. With any luck, he figured he might still yet live to fight another day….
TAHNK WOO-KI, the third REDI agent, had taken cover in a shallow gully fifty yards down from the hill crest. He’d killed one of the Bureau agents and had seen Hong and Yokota take out three others. Like them, he realized that they had lost the element of surprise. And, like Hong, when he’d first noticed the approaching helicopter he’d realized that he would soon be spotted.