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SPECTRE’S FLANKER WAS surrounded by blacked-out SUVs with flashing blue lights as he and Kruger taxied clear of the runway at Osan Air Base in South Korea. The four vehicles escorted him to a remote hangar on the southwest corner of the field.
Armed men exited the vehicles as Spectre parked in front of the hangar. He was marshalled into position and given the “cut” signal to shut down his only operating engine. As the engine spooled down, crews immediately hooked up a tow bar and tug to his aircraft and towed the jet into the hangar.
The large hangar door closed behind them and ladders were hung on the side of the jet. Spectre and Kruger exited the aircraft and were greeted by Sierra Carter.
“Where are Woody and Reginald?” Sierra asked, referring to her brother by his first name.
“You haven’t heard from them?” Spectre asked nervously as he started to unzip his G-suit.
“We were down to one engine, so he stayed behind as a diversion,” Kruger explained. “Have you heard anything from Natasha?”
Sierra frowned. “I was hoping you had news. We haven’t heard anything since your update when you landed in country.”
“Okay, well, we need to-”
Kruger was cut off by Coolio sprinting into the hangar. “Kruger, I found them!” he yelled frantically.
“Found who? Natasha?” Kruger asked as he tossed his G-suit to the side and moved toward Coolio.
Coolio stopped in his tracks. “No...umm...Woody and Cowboy...I found them!”
“Found them? Where?” Sierra asked.
“Well, not them, but I found a possible location,” Coolio said.
“Spit it out, bub.”
“Right, well, intel reports a KN-06 surface to air missile engagement near Kaesong. I’ve got a satellite feed of the wreckage but no visual on survivors yet. North Korean military is all over it. They’re calling it a defection attempt by Russian pilots,” Coolio said.
Kruger grabbed Coolio and spun him around, turning him toward the door. “Let’s go find them. Spectre, a jet will take you home shortly. Thanks for your help.”
“Wait, what about Woody?”
“We’ve got it covered,” Kruger said without turning around.
Spectre jogged to catch up to them. “That’s it? After all of that?”
Kruger abruptly turned around and faced Spectre, causing him to abruptly stop. “You did your part. You will be compensated for your services. Now, it’s time for you to go home. I know how you are and I’m not risking you getting yourself into a situation that we would have to get you out of in North Korea.”
“I can’t just leave Woody like that!”
“You can and you will,” Kruger growled. “Look, bub, I don’t have time to argue with you. We appreciate what you did, but right now, we have to focus on getting our people out of North Korea. Go home. Spend time with Michelle and Cal Jr. The money will be sitting in your account by the time you land.”
“It’s not about the money. Woody is my friend.”
“And we will do everything we can to get him home. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
Kruger turned back with Coolio and Sierra without waiting for a reply. They walked through the hangar into a SCIF where Coolio had set up his computer network to monitor their operations in North Korea.
Coolio rushed to his desk and pulled up the satellite view of the wreckage. At least fifty North Korean soldiers appeared to have secured the wreckage while others seemed to be combing the area, looking for the downed pilots.
“What about their personal locator beacons?” Kruger asked.
“Nothing yet, although it’s possible they turned them off to avoid detection,” Coolio said.
“Find them,” Kruger said before turning to Sierra. “Where are Tuna and the rest of the team?”
“Tuna and Ringo are in the base command post having a video teleconference with Director Chapman,” Sierra replied. “And the others are pulling security around the hangar.”
“Can you please find them and get them here? We’re going to need to put together a quick reaction force to go get our boys.”
“I’m on it,” Sierra replied as she turned and walked out.
“Coolio, get me everything you can on the crash site – terrain, strength of forces, possible hole-up locations. We’re going to need it ASAP and-”
“Uhh, boss,” Coolio said, interrupting Kruger as an alert dinged on his computer.
“What?”
Coolio clicked on the icon and brought up a video feed. It was North Korean state television.
“I set up an alert for anytime facial recognition software picked up Choe Il-Sung on North Korean television,” Coolio said as he expanded the window.
The video showed Kim Jong-Un walking with Choe Il-Sung as they inspected a North Korean military unit in Pyongyang.
“When was this taken?” Kruger asked.
“It’s live,” Coolio replied. “Shouldn’t he be...dead?”
Kruger looked at his watch. It had only been six hours since his handshake with Il-Sung. It was still within the window of four to eight hours for the specially formulated ricin to take effect, but his presence at the meeting was definitely a bad sign. He appeared completely healthy and unaffected.
“Can you pull up the latest satellite images of Sunchon Airport?” Kruger asked.
“Sure, but, why?”
“Just do it,” Kruger barked.
Coolio did as instructed. With a few mouse clicks, he had a satellite view of the airbase Kruger and Spectre had just barely escaped.
Kruger pointed to the ramp where the viewing stand had been set up. “Can you zoom in there?”
As Coolio zoomed in, Kruger’s worst fears were confirmed. Natasha and company were supposed to fly out after Woody and Spectre. They would head back to Russia under the pretense that they had been recalled due to the crash. The fact that their jet was still sitting in the exact same place it had been when Kruger and company had taken off was a very bad sign.
Sierra walked in with Tuna and Ringo in tow as Kruger stayed glued to the satellite image.
“What’s going on?” Tuna asked. “Glad to see you made it!”
“We’ve got problems,” Kruger said as he pointed to the screen.
“What’s up?” Tuna asked.
“Take your pick. The target is still alive, Woody and Cowboy were shot down in North Korea, and Natasha, Viktor, and Anatoly are still in Sunchon,” Kruger said. “Total mission failure.”
“Wait, what?” Sierra Carter asked as she pushed Kruger aside to look at the screen. “What do you mean Il-Sung is alive?”
Coolio switched windows to the live feed of Il-Sung with Jong-Il in Pyongyang.
“That’s impossible,” Sierra said. “When did you administer the toxin?”
“Six hours and twelve minutes ago,” Kruger said, looking at his watch.
“And you’re sure it was him? And not a body double?”
“It was him,” Kruger said.
“What about Woody and Cowboy?” Tuna asked. “Have we made contact yet?”
“Radio silence so far,” Coolio said. “The only thing I’ve been able to find is the wreckage.”
“Jesus Christ,” Tuna replied, running his hands through his hair. “Okay, so we need to get a QRF package together to go get them, and then figure out what to do about Il-Sung.”
“I think they’ve got Natasha,” Kruger said.
Tuna grabbed Kruger by the shoulders and looked him in the eye. “We’ll get her back. This is a shit sandwich that we’re going to have to handle one bite at a time, but I promise you, no one will get left behind.”