Chapter Thirty-Eight
OHQ-NW, 25 miles from Seattle
June 25 -- 13:15 UTC/6:15 am local time
While Violet Rhee was presenting Commander Choi Junseo with the Fireblossom weapon that was meant to destroy the population of the city of Seoul, Agent David Diehl was hunkered down in the Operational Headquarters (Northwest) in the woods of Washington State. He watched on a large television screen as three UH-60 Black Hawks moved through the dawn sky above the city of Seattle.
“What’s the ETA, Captain Reynolds?” David asked.
A uniformed man with captain’s bars on his cap checked a laptop that was placed on the table before him before looking back up at the television screen.
“ETA is three minutes,” Captain Reynolds said.
David looked over his shoulder at ASAC O’Donnell, who was standing in a corner and watching the screen raptly. David couldn’t help the feeling that he was stepping on O’Donnell’s toes by taking control of this operation, even though O’Donnell had welcomed him openly and didn’t seem to have any hard feelings at having a newcomer, who he didn’t know, running such an important operation on his home turf.
David turned back to the screen. Seattle was spread out below, before and around the choppers, a city that still hadn’t completely wiped the sleep from its eyes, and that faced a danger that was closer than all of those people below could imagine. Even after what had happened to L.A., many Seattleites took comfort in the mistaken belief that they weren’t strategically important enough to be targeted by the terrorists. They didn’t understand the nature of the enemy.
Perhaps, David reflected, their lack of understanding wasn’t such a bad thing. It is easier to run a search and destroy operation in a city whose inhabitants aren’t running around like frightened lunatics, and maybe the calm in the city would lull the local Violet Dawn cell into a false sense of complacency.
“ETA one minute,” Captain Reynolds said.
David had to beat down a flutter of panic in his gut. Failure now didn’t mean a bad mark on a report, or a demotion in rank; failure meant death for thousands or more. Failure meant a future self-inflicted gunshot to the head after the bender to end all benders.
David pushed these morbid thoughts away, knowing that they did him no good.
“Target is in site,” Captain Reynolds updated.
David watched as the choppers slowed their rate of speed as they approached the target. He saw the target appear far below. The target was an apartment building that was only fifty yards from Interstate 5. David picked up a pair of headphones with an attached microphone, and slipped them on his head.
“Team Leader, this is Operations Command,” David spoke into the microphone. “Over.”
“Roger, OpCommand,” a voice came back. “This is Team Leader. We are approaching the target now. Request permission to drop my team. Over.”
“Hold steady for the moment. Over.”
David looked to Captain Reynolds.
“Report to Joint Command that our team is in place, and request orders,” he said.
The Captain looked down at his laptop and typed something in. After a few seconds he looked back up at David.
“The order is to remain in a holding pattern until all of the other teams are ready,” Captain Reynolds said. “We should have an order to move within minutes.”
David nodded, then spoke into the microphone:
“Team Leader, this is Operations Command. You are to remain in a holding pattern until further advised. Over.”
“Roger, OpCommand. Over.”
David wiped some sweat from his brow before taking a drink of water from a bottle on the table. He knew that right at that moment, in cities all over the nation, men just like him were waiting to give their own teams the order to move on their targets.
David kept one eye on the clock hanging on the wall to the right of the television screen. The seconds passed much too slowly for him, each second feeling like at least ten. On the screen the city streets and buildings on the ground sped by as the choppers whirled around in a circle around their target, waiting for the order to drop their men.
Captain Reynolds was looking at his laptop. He could feel his operation commander’s tension, as well as the tension of all of the other people in the room. Silence settled in the room like a fog, until people could hear the beating of their own hearts. Then the “all go” order flashed across the screen of the laptop.
“We are clear for all go,” Captain Reynolds said, somehow managing to speak the words calmly. “I repeat, we are clear for all go.”
David took a breath, and then spoke into the microphone:
“All go! All go! Over.”
“Roger that,” came the response from Team Leader. “Over and out.”
One by one the three choppers of the Operations Team swooped down and hovered over the roof of the apartment building, pausing just long enough for four black-clad soldiers to rappel down onto the roof out of each Black Hawk before the choppers whirled away again. They worked quickly and efficiently, every man knowing his role and exactly where he was supposed to be.
Half the soldiers moved to the edge of the roof as the other six men disappeared through the roof service access door. Of the men at the edge of the roof three rappelled down onto a balcony jutting out from the side of the building, as the other three sat in braced positions that allowed them to carry the weight of the rappellers as they descended. Once they had their footing on the balcony, the three reppellers cut loose from their lines.
David and the rest of the people gathered around at OHQ watched what was happening from the point of view of the camera on one of the Black Hawks as the chopper circled high above the building. The men on the balcony stayed put for a moment, waiting for the soldiers who were now inside the building to radio that they were ready. The radio call came, and one of the men on the balcony placed something that resembled a ball of putty on the glass of a sliding door. A moment later the soldier blew the charge, blowing the door inward into the apartment. The men on the balcony rushed into the apartment with their weapon raised and ready to fire. David knew that at the same moment the men inside the building would be making entry through the apartment door.
“Switch over to Active Coms Channel,” David said.
Captain Reynolds punched a few keys on his laptop, and the staticky voice of a soldier filled the room. David took off his headphones, not needing them anymore. Other voices could also be heard as they were picked up by soldier’s mic, and the voices ran together.
“Down! Down!”
“Watch your three o’clock!”
“Watch out!”
The sound of gunfire, a grunt.
“He’s down. Clear the next room.”
“Watch my back!”
More gunfire. Heavy breathing. A cry of pain, a short burst of gunfire. Nobody listening at OHQ dared to move. Things got quiet for a minute, and then the silence was broken.
“OpCommand, this is Operations Team. We have cleared the apartment. All targets neutralized. We have the Fireblossom. Repeat, we have the Fireblossom. For God and country. Over.”
All at once everyone at OHQ expelled a collective breath that none of them had been aware they were holding. David put his headphones back on so he could communicate back to the team through the mic.
“Copy that,” David said, his voice shaking slightly. “You boys did great. Get any surviving targets to the roof and get ready to board the Black Hawks. Over and out.”
David took off the headphones and set them on the table. He covered his face and started to shake. Captain Reynolds looked at him, visibly uncomfortable. For a moment people thought that David was crying, but as he took his hands away from his face it became apparent that he was laughing with joy.