“Can the new lab handle that?”
“Of course. Captain Myoung informs me the new lab is twice the size of this one, and your technicians will be better trained and motivated than the ones here.”
“Good. Dr. Mori is right about these prisoners. They are useless.”
Rhee gave both doctors a hard look. “Leave them to me. Worry about making the drugs.”
Both Ryuk and Chang bowed. “Of course, Major.”
Rhee looked around at the shipment area. Red Ice had two advantages over the other competing drugs. First, it was created and manufactured in a real lab, not someone’s kitchen. Second, it was being backed by the might of an entire country and soldiers like Rhee, men trained to use violence and not afraid of doing their job.
He looked at the chemists. “Find out that formula. I don’t care what you have to do, but get it!” He lowered his voice. “Or I will.”
Both men paled. They knew the major was not one to make an idle threat. “W-we understand sir,” Ryuk stammered.
“Good.” Rhee turned and walked back into the lab. His eyes found Mori, but unlike the other two, she returned his stare with a hateful glare.
He didn’t care. The real prize he was after was the patbingsu formula. The drug, an offshoot of Red Ice, was showing promise as a battle drug. It made soldiers stronger, more alert, and dulled pain. In addition, it gave the warriors an urge to kill that only grew stronger the longer the drug was in their systems. When it came to ground fighting, an army using patbingsu would be almost impossible to defeat.
Rhee strode out of the lab. The only problem was that Dr. Candice Mori was the only one who knew the formula, and she was holding it as her only bargaining chip. She was also one of the leading authorities on methamphetamine, and it was she who created Red Ice to test an anti-addiction drug she was working on.
The patbingsu formula and her production efforts with the Red Ice compound were the only two things keeping Mori alive up to now. Rhee would have much preferred to break her and obtain the formula that way, but Pyongyang desired Mori’s cooperation. Rhee disagreed, but his orders were clear and he was a good soldier.
But as he descended the stairs, he thought that maybe it was time to stop treating Mori as a willing participant and treat her for what she was — an enemy of the state with valuable information needed for North Korea’s defense.
Rhee waited until he was sitting in the car, driving out of the warehouse’s gate before he made a call. Seonwoo, sitting next to him in the back seat, raised an eyebrow.
The phone was answered on the fourth ring. “Yeah?”
“I want to speak to Johnny Liao. It’s Mr. Rhee.”
“One moment.”
It was thirty seconds before another voice said, “Yes?”
“You heard what happened last night?”
“At the pier? Yeah. A lot of dead pigs.”
Rhee took a couple of deep breaths. Johnny Liao was arrogant, self-centered, and ill-disciplined. “You heard what happened to Ko Lee?”
“I heard he got lead poisoning. Couldn’t happen to a bigger son of a bitch.”
“I need four of your men for a task.”
“Oh?”
“A protection detail.”
“A protection detail? Your guys? What are they doing, poking Godzilla in the eye?”
“Something like that. There will be a good chance your men will get to kill some….pigs.”
Rhee could hear Liao’s smile over the phone. “Hell, why didn’t you say so? I’ll lead them myself!”
“No, I have a more important task for you, one that is more fitting for someone of your ability.”
“What?”
“The details are still being worked up, but it will be soon and I promise it will be something that will send ripples across the country. People will remember what you did for years.”
“All right. I’ll send four of my guys. When and where?”
Rhee gave him the time and location, then hung up.
“I thought we were going to hold onto our shock troops,” Seonwoo said.
Rhee shook his head. “We’ll recruit more, start with a fresh slate. Liao and the others are a failed experiment. We have to get rid of them before we bring in fresh troops. We don’t want any dissatisfaction infecting the newer recruits.”
“Do you actually have something important for Liao and his people to do?”
The major looked at his subordinate and smiled. “Oh, yes. Very important.”
CHAPTER FIVE
The DEA San Francisco office was located in the Tenderloin section of the city, in the federal building on Golden Gate Avenue, between Polk and Larkin Streets.
The mood in the office when Sarah Vessler and Danny Choi entered was somber. Eight DEA Agents and twelve SFPD officers were dead, including Rhonda James, whose narcotics team had been wiped out by several RPGs striking their vehicles as they raced in. Pelton and five officers were in the hospital, all wounded, four critically.
Vessler looked away from the empty desks that would never again see the men and women who had once occupied them. She spotted Brock and Meechim at their desks, neither man looking rested or in the mood to talk. Daniels was slumped in his chair, all the arrogance and cockiness he usually displayed gone. Anger burned inside her, anger at Billy Hong and his goons. He would pay, and she would make sure of it.
She spotted her superior, Special Agent in Charge George Glimsdale, near the conference room. A small, neat man with a high forehead and glasses, Glimsdale looked more like an accountant than the head of a DEA office. He spotted her and Choi and motioned to her, then pointed to the conference room. Vessler changed directions, Choi following silently in her wake. She ignored the looks the other people in the office were giving them — the news had been plastered across all media.
The conference room was already occupied when the three DEA agents entered. Vessler saw Naomi and recognized both Tanner Wilson and John Casey. Besides them, three men and another woman sat around the table. All seven were dressed in business suits, but Vessler suspected that everyone but Casey was armed.
Casey sat at the head of the table. He stood slowly and said, “Agent Glimsdale, on behalf of the President of the United States of America, I extend the condolences of the entire country on the loss of your agents.”
“Thank you, Director Casey,” Glimsdale said. “The best thing we can do in their memory is to find the bastards who did this and make sure they never do it again.”
“We agree on that,” Casey said. “Everyone, please take a seat so we can get started.”
Vessler sat on one side of the table, Choi on the other, while Glimsdale sat at the opposite end. Vessler recognized the woman sitting next to her as the one who had helped save them. She wore glasses and typed on a laptop. She looked up and extended a hand to Vessler. “Danielle Sunderland,” she announced.
Vessler took the hand. Despite her appearance, the handshake Vessler received was strong and firm. “Sarah Vessler.”
Next to Sunderland was a tall man with a long, thin face. Vessler recognized him as the driver of the van during their rescue. He extended a large hand. “Dante Alvarez.” Vessler shook his hand.
Casey cleared his throat. “Maybe introductions are in order.” He motioned to the man sitting to his left. “This is Liam Riley, and the gentleman next to him is Stephen Shah.”
Glimsdale nodded. He didn’t look happy. “I’m George Glimsdale, head of this DEA office. Sarah Vessler and Daniel Choi, lead agents in Operation Golden Carp.”
“Golden Carp?” Liam said in a low voice.
Vessler scowled and folded her arms. “Who the hell are you clowns?”