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Đồng Xuân Market
Hanoi, Vietnam
19 February
2018 Local Time
The streets in front of the covered Dong Xuan market were crowded with people shopping at the various small vendors. Every Friday evening, the busy thoroughfare through the center district of Hoan Kiem was converted to a pedestrian street to accommodate the expanded night market.
The man slowly made his way through the crowd of tourists and merchants. He didn’t seem to be in a hurry or looking for anything in particular as he browsed the inventory of the merchants at each table. His body language was relaxed and he was seemingly unaware that he was being stalked like a zebra in the African Savannah.
Tuna stopped at a vendor and pretended to shop as he watched his subject out of the corner of his eye. He picked up a pair of sunglasses and inspected them as the vendor yelled prices at him in Vietnamese. As the man he was following moved on, Tuna smiled and put the sunglasses back on the rack in a casual pursuit of his target.
The man stopped at a jewelry vendor a few tables down. Tuna pulled his hat low over his eyes and stopped at a table selling Persian rugs a few feet away. The man took off his wristwatch as he picked up a gold watch and tried it on. Its faceplate diamonds sparkled under the streetlights.
Tuna watched as the man pulled out a wad of cash and dropped it in front of the vendor with no negotiating. The vendor smiled and pocketed the money before the man turned back toward Tuna.
Letting the man pass, Tuna watched as the man walked out into the crowded street eyeing his new purchase. “Coming to you, Kruger,” Tuna said into his in-the-ear radio.
“Got him” Kruger replied. He was standing in a crowd just outside where the street was closed off, watching a man play a dan bau one-string guitar. He picked up the man they were following who was wearing an untucked light blue button-down shirt and khaki pants.
He walked toward Kruger and then turned left, crossing the street as he approached a group of girls working the street corner. Kruger watched as he flashed the cash from his pocket and then grabbed the wrist of the taller Vietnamese girl with bleached blonde hair.
With her heels, the woman was just over an inch taller than the man. She put her arm in his as they walked out past the crowd on the sidewalk away from the market.
Kruger dropped a dollar in the street artist’s guitar case and started following. The man seemed oblivious to everything around him as the woman kissed his ear and neck while walking down the busy sidewalk.
The man certainly didn’t carry himself like an operative, but Kruger had also seen operatives blowing off steam in foreign countries much the same way. The man looked relaxed and carefree, as if he had not a care in the world.
They had been watching him for an entire day. His carefree nature had made Kruger wonder if they were even following the right guy, but each time he checked, Meeks confirmed that the watch beacon matched the man’s location.
Meeks had tracked the watch from Midway to the Petropavlovsk-Kamchatsky Airport in Russia. As Kruger and his new associates had landed in Honolulu, Meeks reported that the watch was on the move again, making a flight to Pyongyang, North Korea within minutes after landing. They decided to wait a day to see if it moved again rather than trying to infiltrate North Korea.
The next day, the watch was on the move again. This time, it landed in Laos, where it appeared to transition to a vehicle driving across the border into Vietnam and later Hanoi. Lyons had offered his full support, getting them into Hanoi and supporting the three-man team with four of his own men – two Americans, a Brit, and a former Philippine commando. Kruger still didn’t completely trust Lyons, but he knew that without Odin, they’d never capture those responsible.
Spectre and Decker were still on the U.S.S. Ronald Reagan when Kruger and his team had landed in Honolulu, but after a brief satellite phone conversation with Spectre that had been arranged by Meeks, Kruger was determined to see it through. Spectre had told Kruger that he had given the watch to the downed pilot, and that one of the hostage takers had likely taken it from him. Spectre had also told him everything that had happened on the island, including what the President had said in response to Spectre’s allegations. They both agreed that the only way to end it was to find the people that had run the operation and capture or kill them.
“He’s moving south,” Kruger announced over his radio as he followed the man at a comfortable distance.
“Contact,” former Philippine commando Benigno “Rage” Ona said. He was riding a moped among a sea of other mopeds on a perpendicular street. He turned right to follow, moving slower in the heavy traffic than the walking subject and his new girlfriend.
“Axe, what’s your location?” Kruger asked as he picked up his pace.
“Two blocks down,” Axe replied over the radio. He was with the two Odin operators, “Beast” and “Cuda” in a panel van.
“Roger, once he clears this next street, let’s extract,” Kruger said. He closed the distance behind the man with his girlfriend easing their way down the street.
Rage turned onto the sidewalk with his moped, weaving in and out of the pedestrians as he moved toward the man. He passed Kruger and approached the man and the woman, breaking them apart as they turned and dove out of the way as he sped by.
Kruger grabbed the startled man from behind with his left hand and pulled the syringe out of his pocket with his right. He flicked off the safety cap with his thumb before driving the ketamine-filled needle into the man’s neck.
The man struggled for a moment and then fell limp. The hooker that had been accompanying him ran off, losing her heels as she sprinted away. Kruger dragged the man’s limp body toward the street as Rage ditched his moped and turned back to help him.
Axe arrived shortly after and the two men in the back threw open the older van’s side door. With the man inside, Rage and Kruger followed and slammed the door behind them before Axe sped off into traffic.
Kruger studied the clean-shaven Chinese man’s face as Cuda Flexcuffed his hands and prepared the hood for his head. He searched the man’s pocket and found Spectre’s watch. Its beacon light was still steadily flashing.
“Looks like this is our man,” he said. “Now let’s find out who he is.”
* * *
“Wake up, asshole,” Kruger said as he dumped a bucket of water over the man’s head.
The man jerked as the cold water hit him, waking up with bloodshot eyes as he looked up at Kruger. His hands were tied to the chair. His feet were bound together and his clothes had been removed except for his boxers.
He said something in Chinese and then looked around the empty warehouse in a sudden panic as he fought against his restraints.
“What did he say?” Kruger asked Rage.
“He asked where he was,” Rage said as he stood next to Kruger.
“Do you speak English?” Kruger asked calmly. Rage repeated what he said in Chinese to the prisoner. The man nodded slowly as he watched Kruger.
Kruger pulled up a chair across from the man and sat down. “Good,” he said. “Let’s get a few things straight before we begin.”
“First and foremost,” Kruger said as he held up a finger. “You are not in control here. I don’t care if you believe in a God or not, but for the time being, you can consider this just as good as meeting your maker.”
“Second,” Kruger continued, “there will be consequences if you lie to me. You will not like them. If I even think you are trying to deceive me, you will face my wrath.”
“And finally,” Kruger said as he stood and leaned in close to the man. “I work for myself, bub. So whatever rights you think you have, you can forget about them. I am the law here, and there is nothing that will stop me from getting the answers I need.”
The man cocked his head back to spit in Kruger’s face. Before he could, Kruger’s fist came crashing down into the man’s nose like a hammer, shattering it and sending blood everywhere.
“This is not a good start for you,” Kruger said as he wiped the blood off his hand and stepped back.
The man laughed as the blood trickled down from his nose. “You Americans are so predictable,” he said with a thick Chinese accent. “You think I have not trained in your methods? You should save yourself the trouble and kill me now.”
“You’re right,” Kruger said as he turned toward a table in the back of the room. “I should have known.”
Kruger walked to the back of the room and picked up his black bag. After a moment of searching, he pulled out a red tube with a black top and closed the bag. He then walked back to the chair across from the prisoner and sat down. He could see the man nervously eyeing his every move.
“Death ain’t so scary, is it, bub?” Kruger said as he spun the tube around in his hand. “But you know what’s worse than death?”
The man said nothing as he stared at Kruger.
“Wishing you were dead,” Kruger said as he held up the tube. “Do you know what’s in here?”
“Pepper spray?” the man laughed. “I have trained for far worse.”
Kruger laughed with the man. “I’m sure you have. I know I have.”
“It was one of the worst parts of the police academy,” Kruger continued as he pretended to read the label on the spray bottle in his hand. “I would rather get punched in the dick a hundred times than go through this again.”
“I like it,” the man said confidently.
“I bet you do,” Kruger replied. “But do you know what was the one thing they warned us about after they sprayed us?”
The man shook his head.
“Be careful when you take a shower,” Kruger said with a chuckle. “I guess someone found out the hard way that it can burn in some not-so-fun places when it washes down from your face. Can you imagine? Apparently the capsaicinoids can burn so badly, they tear away skin tissues like a sunburn.”
The man shook his head again. “You don’t scare me.”
“Is circumcision a thing in China?” Kruger asked, ignoring the man’s reply. “You guys claim to be Christian right? That’s a thing isn’t it?”
The man stared blankly at Kruger.
“Anyway, I get it, you’re a trained warrior and not afraid of anything,” Kruger said. “I respect that. And you probably have been sprayed before. It’s a fun time, ain’t it?”
The man fidgeted nervously against his restraints as Kruger flashed a sinister grin.
“But this isn’t the spray you’re thinking of,” Kruger said as he turned the label around and moved it closer for the man to see. “Can you read English? No? Don’t worry, I’ll read it to you. This is bear spray.”
Kruger held the can up close to the man’s face as his eyes widened. “Now, I’m no expert, but this says two percent capsaicinoids and if I remember right, human spray is only about one to one and a half percent. Does that sound right? That seems like a lot. So, this is thirty-five percent stronger than the human kind. In America, it’s illegal to use on people. Pretty nasty huh?”
Kruger pulled the security tab from the trigger guard and aimed it at the man’s crotch. “I guess we’ll find out how tough you really are, won’t we?”
“What do you want to know?” the man shrieked.
“Your name,” Kruger said without moving his aim.
“Ming Lao!”
“That’s better,” Kruger said with a smile. “Now, who do you work for?”
“He’ll kill me!”
“I thought you weren’t afraid of death, Ming? Where’d your bravery go?” Kruger asked as he lowered the pepper spray and pointed it at Ming’s crotch.
“He’s crazy!”
“Crazy enough to pepper spray your balls, Ming?” Kruger asked as he raised the bear spray again. “Because if you don’t start talking, that’s where we’ll start.”
Ming shook his head vigorously.
“I warned you,” Kruger said as he stepped back and sprayed Ming’s crotch. Ming screamed in horror as the spray hit his thin boxers and the first of the capsaicinoids hit his genitals and burned.
“Ahh!” he yelled out before saying something in Chinese.
“English, Ming! Who is he?” Kruger yelled. “The next shot will be direct.”
“Colonel Deng Fang!” Lao cried out. “Make it stop!”
“What unit are you with?” Kruger asked. “I’ll make it stop when you answer my questions!”
“None,” Ming replied in a panic. “I was part of the Guangzhou Military Region Special Forces Unit before I was given a discharge and told to report directly to the Politburo party chief in Guangdong.”
“The Communist Party in China?” Kruger asked.
Ming nodded as he squirmed and grimaced. “I was given a severance for my time in the army and told to report to Uyghur for a new assignment under Colonel Fang.”
“Who is Fang?” Kruger asked. “Is that who ran the operation?”
“Colonel Fang was once the leader of the Chengdu Military Region Special Forces Unit, until he had a mission fail in the Philippines,” Ming responded. Snot was running from his face and his eyes were tearing from the proximity of the spray. The smell of the spray gave Kruger flashbacks to his own training and made him cringe.
Kruger looked at Rage who shook his head. Codenamed “Falcon,” Kruger had heard of the Chengdu Unit a few times in his career. They were the Chinese equivalent of DEVGRU for the Navy SEALs, using advanced weapons and tactics in their missions.
“What was your mission at Midway?” Kruger asked.
“They flew us in to clear the island and take control of the American President’s plane,” Ming said anxiously. “We were to secure the island until our replacements arrived. Please!”
“Who were your replacements?”
“Islamic State fighters from Uyghur. We trained and worked with them for months. They made us grow beards and learn to speak like them,” Ming replied.
“What are you doing here?”
Ming shrugged. “Once we arrived in Russia, we were all given a severance and sent to different aircraft to fly to different locations. I was told to stay in Hanoi and await further instructions.”
“Where can I find Fang?”
Ming said nothing as he thrashed in the chair against his restraints.
“Where is he Ming?” Kruger said as he threatened Ming with another burst of spray.
“Manila! I don’t know where! Just Manila!” Ming yelled.
“I think I know where he might be,” Rage whispered in Kruger’s ear.
“Please make it stop!” Ming pleaded.
“Last question,” Kruger said. “How many Americans did you kill?”
Ming looked up at Kruger with his tear-filled eyes and running nose. “Please!”
“How many?” Kruger demanded.
“Not many!” Ming lied.
“Ok,” Kruger said. “I believe you.”
“Make it stop!” Ming shouted.
Kruger pulled his Glock 17 from the holster on his right hip and fired, striking Ming in the forehead.
“Jesus, Kruger!” Rage said as he jumped back. “Holy shit, dude!”
“No one is innocent,” Kruger said. “Let’s go find Fang.”