Sky Hammer. James Axler

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СКАЧАТЬ over the railing, Phoenix Force reached the deck and crouched, listening for any potential source of trouble. But the great vessel was silent; there was only the sound of the waves below. Everything else was still.

      Staying in a bunch to keep a low profile, the team donned dry sneakers from their packs and opened watertight bags to remove Heckler & Koch MP-5 submachine guns, each barrel tipped with an acoustical sound suppressor. The weapons carried a flip clip, bound together with the service man’s best friend, duct tape. Warily, the men made sure that the clip carrying the half-load rounds was inserted into the machine guns. The reduced charge seriously lowered the firepower, but helped the suppressors do their job. The other side of the flip clip was standard ammo, armor-piercing, full charges. Just in case the suppressors failed.

      The sound of soft footsteps came from around the housing and Phoenix Force dropped behind the canvas sheet covering a machine-gun nest.

      Lightly resting a finger on the trigger of his MP-5, McCarter tracked the sailor strolling along the deck, an AK-47 on his back, both hands shoved into the pockets of his peacoat for warmth. It was obvious to the former SAS commando that the North Koreans weren’t expecting any trouble this night. Too bad for them.

      It had been known for some time that Kim Jong-il, the dictator of North Korea, had been trying to manufacture biological weapons to use against the democratic people of South Korea and the hated United States. Several labs had been found by the CIA and blown out of existence by NATO. But Kim kept trying to duplicate his success with a nuclear weapons program. Half of the trapped population of impoverished nation subsisted on starvation rations, but their “glorious leader” spent billions on creating weapons that might never be used, for a war that only he wanted.

      “Which way?” McCarter whispered, staying low.

      Pulling a personal computer from a pocket on his thigh, Encizo checked the glowing map of the boat. It was a compilation made from the structural blueprints of the dockyard where it had been constructed and a lot of guesswork based upon orbital photos and passive thermographic readings from shore.

      “Left,” the little Cuban said, starting forward.

      Proceeding along the deck, the five-man team kept close to the painted metal walls, pausing every now and then as somebody walked along the gunwale. The guards expected that any trouble would come from outside, and kept watching the sea, the sky and the distant shoreline, the small fishing villages and military slave camps twinkling patterns in the night.

      Soft light came from a series of portholes and the Stony Man operatives ducked low beneath them. Faintly, they could hear soldiers laughing and a television set blaring with a translated American sitcom.

      Maneuvering past the cargo hold, Phoenix Force passed a couple of guards on patrol and a pair of soldiers out on errands, one of them carrying a silver tray covered with spotless white linen. The delicious aroma of roasted duck wafted behind the steward, lingering in his wake. Weapons poised, Phoenix Force watched the fellow cross the deck and disappear into the main salon a hundred feet away.

      “That wasn’t spam on a shingle like they feed the troops,” Calvin James observed, easing his gun hand. “Guess it’s good be to the king.”

      “Pity the general in charge is awake,” Hawking quipped, checking the rigging on the cargo hoist for any suspicious motions. “But at least we now know that Le-Wan isn’t belowdecks. That had to be for him.”

      James nodded in reply. Good point. Where ever Le-Wan was located, that’s where Kim Jong-il would have the bulk of the troops to protect his nephew.

      “Be nice if Yi was belowdecks.”

      “Amen to that, brother.”

      “Gary, over here,” McCarter said, tapping an access panel in the wall.

      Sliding the panel back, Manning found a fuse box, well protected from the corrosive salty air. Jimmying the lock, he swung the door aside. A bank of circuit breakers was inside, all of them clearly marked as to function. Opening the electrical panel, Manning exposed a complex nest of wiring. Checking the breakers, Manning clipped thin gauge wires to their backs, then snipped the bypassed circuits. The master console in the control room would still read the lines as live, but they would die the first time they were turned on and resetting the circuit breaker would do nothing to help. Manning pressed a gray-colored wad of C-4 to the back of the breakers and slid in a radio detonator. The whole ship might be protected by the Faraday Cage effect running through the hull, but this was located out in the open. Closing the board, he swung the door shut and pushed the access panel back into place.

      Phoenix Force proceeded to the lower deck. Down here the air was much warmer, the smell of the sea was gone and there was the continuous sound of some sort of machine. Large steel gates were folded back against the walls, and arms lockers were everywhere. James and Manning hid more C-4 charges behind the weapons dumps as Encizo rigged a couple of the gates. Just a little insurance for the future. Hopefully, getting off the vessel was going to be just as quiet as it was getting on. But a wise soldier always planned for what an enemy could do, not for what he might do.

      Loosening the light bulbs in the ceiling as they went along the hallway, Phoenix Force left darkness in its wake. That would be suspicious to a passing soldier, but far less revealing than actually spotting the team.

      Hawkins took point while James read off the signs on each door. He was fairly proficient in Vietnamese, but only knew a few halting phrases in idiomatic Korean. However, it was enough. Sterile Room. Animals. Contaminate. Storage. Supplies. Laboratory.

      Bingo!

      Bending, McCarter softly scratched at the bottom of the lab door. After a few minutes, a grumbling person stomped over and threw it wide. The angry soldier was armed with a broom, clearly prepared to do battle with a rat. His face registered shock at the sight of the five intruders, and McCarter rose to hit him in the throat with an open-handed blow. The soldier dropped the broom and back away, hacking for air.

      Moving fast, Phoenix Force stepped into the room and Manning closed the door while Encizo fired a single round from his MP-5. The weapon gave a chuff sound and the choking man crumpled into the corner.

      Spreading out, the team secured the room, then did a fast search. The room was an office of some kind, containing desks, papers, computers, printers and tall green file cabinets. Double doors marked with warning signs in Korean filled the left wall and the air carried the antiseptic smell of a hospital.

      Going to the desk, Manning checked, but every drawer was locked. Accepting that, he fixed a couple more blocks of C-4 from his dwindling supply onto the file cabinets and set the timers for twenty minutes.

      “Make it fifteen,” McCarter directed, stuffing some papers from the Out basket into a watertight pouch strapped to his chest.

      Manning did as requested, as Encizo and James kept watch on the corridor and Hawkins checked out the double door at the far end. Through the round glass windows, he could see another set of doors. Past those he could vaguely discern some sort of a laboratory, but the angle was wrong for any details. Could be empty, could have a hundred armed troops inside. There was only one way to know for sure.

      “Okay, it’s showtime,” McCarter declared, closing the pouch. “Let’s find the professor.”

      Walking through the double set of doors, Phoenix Force found the inner room was indeed a full biological weapons laboratory. Two large tables were covered with bubbling experiments, the complex array of gurgling glassware СКАЧАТЬ