Kill Decision(132)
McKinney craned her neck to look up and saw several suited men dead on the ground at the center of blood spatter trails. Other men groaned with terrible wounds; still others were kneeling, hands in the air, as Odin shouted at them,
Odin turned and shouted at Ritter, who was fleeing toward the chopper. “Stop, Ritter! You’ll be dead before you reach it!”
Ritter was still a good hundred feet from the Sikorsky and something ricocheted off the pavement between him and the aircraft. He slid to a stop, his hands raised to the surrounding world. He turned around to face Odin, a look of considerable concern on his face. “It was the mission, David. Nothing personal.”
“You always were a goddamned snowball. Even back in OTC. Did you even read the terrain? You really think I’d enter a place without overwatch? Without an exit plan?” Odin raised his bound hands behind his back as far as he could, and then brought them sharply down against his spine. The PlastiCuffs snapped, freeing his hands. Odin leaned down to pick up one of the fallen stilettos as he looked to McKinney and Evans. “Get up.”
McKinney struggled to her knees, by which time Odin had reached her. He cut her bonds, then moved to free Evans—who looked shaky on his feet.
“Jesus Christ, Odin. I fucking hate working with you.”
Odin grabbed one of the fallen MP5 submachine guns. He motioned for McKinney and Evans to follow him as he walked toward Ritter, who still had his hands raised, peering into the distance.
“Where are they? In the crane tower?”
Odin kept the gun trained as he frisked Ritter with his free hand. “Further.”
Ritter eyed the wooded hills in the distance. “They’re very good.”
“They’re the best.” Odin frowned, having come up empty. “You surprise me.”
Ritter looked feckless. “It seemed unnecessary. David, this accomplishes nothing.”
Odin pushed Ritter along. “Is your pilot armed?”
“He’s just a pilot. He doesn’t even know why we’re here.”
“Move.” He turned. “Evans!”
Evans was examining a wet spot in the crotch of his pants. “Yeah, what, asshole?”
“Grab a gun and meet us in the chopper.”
Evans sighed, still obviously angry, but trudged back to a nearby dead man.
Ritter opened the chopper door, and the pilot looked up from his logbook. Apparently gunshots hadn’t alarmed him. He was a clean-cut Caucasian with a military bearing and buzz cut blond hair.
Odin pointed the gun. “Don’t be stupid, and you’ll live. We’re going to Xiaonan Shan trailhead, right on the hilltop, there.” Odin nodded toward the forested hill overlooking the container yard, about a mile away. “There’s a park on the summit. Land in the grass.”
The pilot nodded grimly. “I have a wife and a young—”
Ritter just laughed. “That’s funny.”
“No one’s killing anyone as long as you do what you’re told.”
Odin and McKinney got into the back of the nicely appointed commuter chopper. There was carpeting, wood trim, and a plush leather bench with four seats, along with two swiveling captain chairs, in addition to the two pilot positions. McKinney, Evans, and Odin slid into the bench seat, while Odin nodded for Ritter to sit in one of the captain chairs, where he was in the same line of sight as the pilot. McKinney noticed her backpack on the floor nearby. She opened it to find the pheromone detector and canisters of perfluorocarbon still inside.
The engines started to whine to life.
“Whistleblowers never get rewarded, David. They get punished.”
The engines gained speed while they exchanged stares. They soon lifted off, rising over the vast container yard.
Ritter gestured to it. “That’s the modern world down there. Automated. Why should war be any different?”
“Because war can destroy us.”
Ritter sighed. “It’s going to happen. They need to invalidate the traditional military. They need to show that it’s obsolete—and that requires a demonstration. You know that.”
McKinney narrowed her eyes at him. “Who the hell are you?”
He ignored her. “Listen to me, David. We shouldn’t be fighting. Men like you will always have a place.”
“I already have a place.”
The chopper was rising toward a lush hilltop festooned with banners covered in Chinese script. The summit had a circular road with a swath of grass. It was the only obvious landing zone, so the pilot brought them down, causing a couple of park visitors to flee for cover from the wind.
Moments after they touched down, several people with long, black nylon bags slung over their backs rushed to the chopper. As the doors opened, McKinney smiled at the sight of Foxy, Ripper, Smokey, and Mooch. Over the sound of the idling rotors Odin shouted to the pilot, “Out!”