“I agree with Michael,” he replied. “But we cannot overlook the possibility of an attack from a surface vessel. The North Koreans have missiles with nuclear and bio-warheads and can deliver. Boarding and searching suspect surface vessels on the high seas should be of paramount importance. Warheads may already be on their way.” He looked at the admiral. “Robert?”
“I agree. However, a blockade would stretch our resources somewhat, but no doubt we can call on our allies to assist.”
The PM’s private secretary entered the room and handed the admiral a note. He read it and looked at the PM. “It appears that several weeks ago the American listening station in the Aleutians recorded the signature of K449 in the south Barents Sea on a southerly course.”
“Exactly where?” shot Maxwell.
“From their station on Attu, the main island of the Nears, at the southern tip of the Aleutians.”
“Why were we not informed sooner?” Trafford asked.
“The Americans log all contacts and share them with us when they get round to it. That’s why I went out. I phoned the Admiralty to check if we had the latest log reports; fortunately, we did.”
“That is directly west of Rybachiy,” said Regis. “If they were heading for Korea they would go southeast through the Sea of Japan.”
“That rules out loading missiles at a Korean naval dockyard,” said Trafford. “Admiral, you could be right. If K449 is the one, then missiles may well be loaded at sea in some remote part of the Pacific. Where is anybody’s guess.”
“Admiral, do we know where all other Russian subs are at this point in time?” the PM asked.
“We do, sir; in conjunction with the Americans. K449’s position is currently unknown, along with an Akula II-class nuclear sub – K267.”
Silence engulfed the room.
“Do we have the signature of K267?” the PM asked Engels.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Okay, we focus on both these subs. Gentlemen, we need to get this thing underway. Robert, get your people to set up the blockade and carry out a search and disable policy against both subs. This policy is to take precedence over all other matters. David, contact the Americans and tell them our intentions and see what they can do to help. Thank you.”
With that, William Maxwell stood. The others followed and all filed out of the Cabinet Room, much more concerned now about the future than they were when they had first entered.
7
On safely reaching the main street of Sinhung, Ryder and his team split into two groups, Song and Grace in front with himself, Bom and Chol close behind. The two groups were just far enough away so as not to create an impression that they were all together. Ryder felt conspicuous amongst the throng of inhabitants, so he kept his head down and wore the broad-brimmed peasant hat low over his ears. For the number of people out and about, the atmosphere seemed strangely subdued; no laughing, no raised voices, just a low murmur of the people going about their daily business. Everyone was dressed in drab clothing, including soldiers in their olive-green uniforms and caps.
Dusk fell as the group reached the small roundabout where the main roads joined just before the bridge; everything so far had gone well and no one had taken interest in what they were doing. They covered the last one hundred yards, weaving between the oncoming pedestrians and bicycle traffic, until they eventually reached the concrete structure and crossed without a hitch. But on the other side, things suddenly changed.
A disturbance had begun not far ahead on the main thoroughfare. A roadblock had hurriedly been set up and people were being singled out at random and herded by soldiers towards a large imposing three-storey building by the roadside. Only those on bicycles and in vehicles were let through without challenge.
Grace froze. To Ryder she looked as if she were about to turn and run. Song saw it too and gently held her. She calmed. The others looked around quickly for an escape route, but the only three side roads, including the bridge entrance behind, were suddenly blocked by more soldiers. This left them no choice but to press forward.
Ryder’s first thought was to commandeer a vehicle, but this might prove difficult without drawing attention. Bikes were the thing. However, this again could be difficult. But others around them were doing just that, mainly men to women, presumably family members. The team could not all commandeer a bike each, so it was decided that just Grace and Ryder would take bikes; the other three would take their chances at the roadblock. Whilst they both waited, Song, Bom and Chol merged into the milling crowd and returned a short while later with two bikes.
Close to the roadblock now, Grace took the bike, but before she could mount, two soldiers suddenly emerged from the closely packed crowd, grabbed her and marched her away with several others. In the melee, the bike, even before it hit the ground, was snatched by the nearest person, who then rode away.
Ryder felt a surge of nervous adrenaline. The four exchanged urgent glances.
Song didn’t hesitate. Signalling to Ryder his intentions, he headed into the crowd close to where those already taken were being held.
Still stunned, but knowing they had to get past the roadblock themselves, Ryder mounted his bike and went through unchallenged, as did Bom and Chol a little later. Fortunately, the roadblock was soon dismantled and the large crowd it held back suddenly pressed forward and hurriedly dispersed.
Song watched as Grace was led away through an arched entrance to the rectangular roadside building and into what looked like an open courtyard beyond. He turned away and began to mingle with the dispersing crowd, determined to find out what had happened. He enquired casually to avoid suspicion as he made his way up the road, where he guessed the others would be.
Eventually he saw Ryder and the others and quickly joined them in front of a narrow dirt alley between two barn-like structures. Although there were still people in small groups meandering about the road and footpaths, the numbers were dwindling as darkness fell. The urgency of the situation demanded they do something quickly to get the captain back. They headed down the alley until they found a small outhouse tucked away behind one of the barns. Checking to make sure it was all clear inside, Ryder led them in, ordering Chol to remain by the door and keep watch.
“This is a major problem. If we don’t get the doc back, this op is well and truly fucked,” Ryder snapped, struggling to keep his voice low. He turned to Song. “What’s going down here?”
“In short, she’s been taken to work in the chem plant.”
“Chem plant? Oh shit! That’s all we need.”
“Apparently this happens randomly, whenever the plant needs labour.”
“What else?” shot Ryder, fearing she might tell all if tortured.
“The building she’s in is for processing before being taken to the plant. Nobody wanted to talk; they were too frightened government spies were about.”
“How long does the processing take?” Ryder asked, calming down.
“Couldn’t find out. Guess it depends on the numbers.”
“Unlikely to transfer at night,” said Ryder, more to himself than to the others. “We have to get her out – tonight.”
“How d’yer propose we do that, boss?” Bom shot back.
Ryder had no idea, but he knew it had to be done; otherwise, despite the crash course on how to handle deadly viruses, he had to acknowledge that he and the rest would have little chance of success without the doc. Besides, he couldn’t leave her to this fate. No way.
“We do what we’re trained for – CTR. Then go get her.” He was referring to a Close Target Reconnaissance.
“Boss, you make it sound so simple,” whispered Chol from the doorway.
“Okay, let’s do it. Dan, you go with Greg. Cam, you’re with me. We need to check out the grounds first, then find a way into the building.”