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  “That was my thought, too,” Nick said. “Even the lab we blew up outside of Pyongyang last year was disguised as a hospital, remember?”

  “Wait, you were the guys who set off a nuke in North Korea?” Briggs said. “I heard rumors about that. Nice work.”

  Nick let that comment pass. He was happy that mission had been a success, as the projects they’d destroyed at that lab would have probably killed hundreds of thousands of American soldiers, but it wasn’t like he was proud of detonating a nuclear device.

  Martin was, however.

  “Yeah, you should have been there. It was fucking intense,” the older man said, smiling widely, his scarred face twisting as he did.

  Nick forced himself not to shake his head as he turned back around to look out through the windshield. He liked all of his team members, he supposed, but Martin creeped him out sometimes. He was the oldest member of the group at almost forty and had been sentenced to life in prison for arson. He’d violently failed all the psychological batteries the military threw at him, so he ended up at the bottom of the barrel in Army Kilo until Nick pulled him into 47 Echo. He was brilliant, holding Master’s degrees in Chemistry and Physics and a doctorate in Electrical Engineering, but he was also (if the military batteries were accurate) criminally insane.

  “Mary? What’s our next move?” Nick asked.

  “Program says we stay on this road. It’ll take us to the small village of Sonid Youqi. Eaton’s math estimates a less than ten-percent chance of encountering troops of any number that way.”

  “I like those odds. You heard the lady, Bryce. Straight on.”

  “I can do that.”

  As they rolled down the wide, empty main drag through Erenhot, all of their radios suddenly burst to life at the same time.

  “Four-seven Echo. Ident X-ray Tango 3-2-9. Authenticate,” a deep male voice said.

  “Mary?” Nick said.

  She typed furiously on her netbook for a second then turned the screen to the cab’s rear window so Nick could see it. The identification code came back in their database as “CIA Asset, Deep Cover.”

  “Holy shit. CIA? Within, what, twenty miles?” Christopher said, looking at the screen.

  Nick toggled his radio.

  “This is 4-7 Echo,” he said. “Identity authenticated, X-Ray.”

  “You need to get off the road now. That truck you’re driving just got flagged as stolen. The guards at the gate will be on your tail in a few minutes,” the voice said over the radio.

  “How do you know that?” Nick asked.

  “No time. Turn left in two hundred feet, then right in another three hundred. There’ll be a garage door open with a red light on inside. Park inside and abandon the vehicle. I’ll meet you there. X-Ray out.”

  “Nick?” Bryce asked.

  “He checked out. Better do what he says. I want all of you ready to rock and roll in case this is a trap,” Nick said, reaching for his own M4.

  He heard clips being loaded and bolts being pulled back behind him.

  “Ready back here, boss,” Christopher said after a few seconds.

  “Good. You hear me say ‘Kennedy’—”

  “Right. We kill anything that moves,” Daniel said, grinning.

  Chapter Twenty

  Biotech is Godzilla

  The garage was right where the voice on the radio had said it would be. Bryce pulled the ancient Russian transport into the garage, and the door closed behind it immediately. Nick and his crew jumped out of the truck, weapons up and at the ready. They swept the red-lit room with their rifles for a moment, but they were alone in the large garage.

  “Clear over here,” Briggs said.

  “Clear here too, boss,” Daniel reported.

  There was a door along the back wall. Apart from the huge garage door, it was the only way out of the room.

  “Stack up,” Nick said, pointing to the door with his left hand.

  Christopher fell in first, just to the left of the door. Daniel was right behind him, and the rest of the squad fell in behind them. Nick stayed in front of the door and dropped to one knee, sighting his M4 at chest level, ready to drop anyone who might pop out when Christopher opened the door. When Christopher looked over at him, Nick nodded. Christopher opened the door.

  Standing on the other side with his hand out, apparently reaching for the doorknob, was a white guy in his mid-fifties. He had close-cropped silver hair and a trimmed silver beard, and even at his age looked quite muscular. He was dressed in a pair of khaki cargo pants and a long-sleeved gray thermal shirt. He slowly raised the hand that had been reaching for the doorknob and waved at Nick.

  “Forty-seven Echo, I presume. Come with me, please,” he said, turning to head back into the building.

  “Right there,” Nick growled. “Move and I’ll put two in your brainpan. We’re not going anywhere until you start telling us what the fuck is going on here.”

  The older man sighed.

  “Look, I appreciate your situation. You guys are running on adrenaline and stimulants,” he said. “But you really, really don’t want to be here when those Chinese cops from the gate get here, which I estimate will be in about a minute and a half. You want to shoot it out with them, be my guest. Otherwise, stop whining like a bitch and follow me.”

  Nick considered for a second. This guy seemed American, all right. And he did know who they were already. He nodded to his crew then followed the older man through the door. His people followed behind him, Bryce closing the door behind them.

  “So, who are you?” Nick asked as they walked, quickening his pace to walk next to the older man.

  “Didn’t your little computer tell you that?”

  “CIA?”

  “Sure, why not. Call me McPherson.”

  “Fine. What are you doing here, McPherson?”

  “My job, young man. Just like I assume you are,” McPherson said, leading them through a block of offices to a blank wall. He moved a potted plant aside and stepped hard where it had been. The wall slid to the side, revealing a large, open elevator.

  “Cram in. I’m sure we can all fit. The guards outside aren’t cleared to know about this place, so they won’t find us down there.”

  Nick and his people followed McPherson into the elevator. There wasn’t much room to move around, but they all managed to squeeze in before the door closed and the elevator started to descend rapidly. A minute later, the doors opened on a long, dark hallway.

  “Straight ahead,” McPherson said from the back of the elevator. “Mind the corpses. Wouldn’t want anyone to trip.”

  As he walked out into the hall, Nick saw what McPherson meant. There were six Chinese men in lab coats, all of them shot through the head, pushed up against the sides of the hallway. If the smell was any indication, the men had been dead for a while. Nick tried to breathe through his mouth, but it didn’t help much.

  McPherson pushed his way to the front of the group and led them down the corridor. “You’re lucky we picked you up when we did,” he said as Nick fell into step next to him. “We were just getting ready to leave.”

  “About that—how did you detect us?”

  “The tracking chip in your people’s necks. Don’t worry, the Chinese don’t know about those yet. But it gave me your exact position, not to mention your unit number and convict IDs. I was only expecting four of you.”

  “Some of us aren’t convicts,” Briggs piped up.

  “Yeah, obviously. We were keeping an eye out for you, though, after we picked up your advanced scout quite by accident two days ago. We tried to raise him too, but he didn’t answer.”

  Nick considered telling McPherson there hadn’t been an advanced scout but decided against it for the moment. He didn’t want to give this guy any more information than he had to, at least not yet. He seemed legitimate enough, but still, there was something about him that bothered Nick. He just couldn’t figure out what that something was yet.

  “This is us,” McPherson sai
d, opening a heavy steel blast door at the end of the hall and motioning for Nick and his people to go in. Inside, Nick saw two more men packing computers into crates. Both of them were Asian.

  “What’s going on here?” Nick said.

  Bryce was the last one in, and the heavy steel door closed behind him. Nick noticed his unit was looking around, their weapons held low but still ready.

  “You’re standing in a Chinese biotechnology lab, son. One of our deep-cover people let us know it was here.”

  “And you’re—”

  “Stealing it. Correct. Every bit of research they have, along with some pretty cool experimental implants,” McPherson said with a smile. “Can’t let these bastards get too far ahead of us, now, can we?”

  “I suppose not,” Nick said through gritted teeth, stopping himself from reminding McPherson that his mother was one of those bastards.

  “I’m assuming Erenhot isn’t the city of your final destination, is it, Marine?”

  Nick shook his head.

  “Right. Didn’t think so, especially with your scout heading south. I was surprised to find any Americans this deep inside the Chinese lines, to tell you the truth. You guys must have a motherfuckerish streak a mile long.”

  Nick said nothing, but he saw Daniel suppressing a laugh out of the corner of his eye.

  “So, you’ll need transport out of here. Chinese Command set these scientists up pretty well. Four nice jeeps in an underground garage back down the hall. A tunnel system takes ’em up to land about five miles outside the city. We’re only taking two—the others are yours if you want ’em,” McPherson said.

  “Appreciated,” Nick said.

  “Least I can do for my, uh, you know, countrymen. I hate to cut this short, but me and my guys have got to get going. I’d suggest you wait at least a couple of hours after we leave, then roll on out.”

  “Aren’t you worried about the guards from the border crossing?” Christopher asked.

  “We come out far enough away from the city that they won’t see us,” McPherson told him.

  “One more thing before you go,” Nick said. “How’d you know about the stolen truck so quickly?”

  “Ah. Yeah, you might want to take a look at this,” McPherson said, waving Nick over to one of the few computers his men hadn’t taken. It was scrolling characters in Chinese.

  “Is that what I think it is?” Nick asked, his voice apprehensive.

  “If you think it’s a direct-access terminal to the People’s Liberation Army Network, then yes. We were going to trash it, but we’ll leave it up for you to mess with.”

  “I appreciate that,” Nick said. “Hey, Chris. Why don’t you and Daniel help Mr. McPherson and his guys with those boxes? Then he can show you where the vehicles are.”

  Christopher looked his friend in the eyes and nodded. Without saying a word, he let Nick know the message had been received: Get any information you can out of these guys.

  “That’ll be fine,” McPherson said. “Good meeting you, Marine.”

  Christopher and Daniel joined McPherson and his two assistants in picking up the last few crates as Nick and his people started exploring the room. It did look like it had been a laboratory of some kind before McPherson had gutted it. There were even a couple of low metal surgical tables in the center of the room.

  “Nick?” Mary asked, nodding toward the Chinese Army computer.

  “Go for it. Just don’t do anything to get us caught.”

  “Awesome,” she said, smiling and pulling a chair up to the computer station. As Nick watched her happily tapping away on the keyboard, he couldn’t help but think of his niece opening her presents on Christmas morning.

  “Martin, you know science stuff. Look around and see if you can figure out what, exactly, they were doing here.”

  “I’ll do what I can, Chief. But I don’t think this is my kind of science,” Martin said.

  “Briggs, help him out. Just by first glance, McPherson might have been telling the truth. This place looks medical in nature to me.”

  “Yeah, me too. On it, Lieutenant.”

  Nick leaned against the wall as his people went about their work. He heard Bryce coming up next to him.

  “Well, shit. I feel like I should be doing something, too,” Bryce said.

  “When Chris and Daniel get back, I’ll have you check out our new rides,” Nick said. “Until then, though, want to see if you can track down any food and water?”

  “Sure thing. You should get off your feet, boss. You look tired.”

  “Guy in Ulaanbaatar said the same thing,” Nick said, forcing a grin. “I suppose I could use some chair time.”

  “Chair time, hell. These scientists were living down here, so they must’ve had beds. Find a rack and sack out.”

  “You giving me orders, convict?”

  “That’s affirmative, sir. I’d feel much better if the brains behind this operation got some sleep.”

  “Fair enough,” Nick said, “though I’m not sure this is a ‘brains’ kind of operation. Soon as Chris fills me in on what he found out, I’ll try to catch a nap. That work for you?”

  “I suppose,” Bryce said, grinning and heading off to search for supplies.

  Nick fought the temptation to let his legs go slack and sink down the wall to the floor. Before Bryce had mentioned it, Nick had felt energized, but now that he had a moment to sit still, it was hard to keep his eyes open. He’d been trying to keep awake and as long as he was moving, the fatigue didn’t hit him. But the second he had downtime, he felt like he was going to pass out. A case of Russian energy drinks back at Firebase Zulu had kept him going, but he’d had to find alternate means on the mission.

  “Those guys were tight-lipped as all hell, brother,” Christopher said when he and Daniel returned a few minutes later. “They told us where to find some food and water and showed us the scientists’ living quarters, but as far as info on who they really were…nothing.”

  “Ah, well. Worth a shot. Did they say how long they were here?”

  “No, but I get the impression it was more than a week. Which means we can probably be safely holed up here for a little while.”

  “I was thinking about that. Might do well to give everyone some time to catch a little sleep. It’s, what, midnight now?”

  “Pretty close to.”

  “What do you think about hanging out here until dark tomorrow? I mean, post sentries and everything, and have our people sleep in shifts with their weapons and gear right by them in case we have to bail or fight our way out, but…”

  “It’s a good idea, boss. The kids have tried to get some sleep, but it’s been, like, twenty minutes at a time. A break would probably do us all good. Especially you. You look like hammered shit.”

  “Jesus. If people keep telling me that, I’m going to get a complex,” Nick grumbled. “Fine. Show me to the crew quarters. Take the first watch, and wake me up in six hours. Sooner if you need me. Daniel, you and Bryce should rack out, too. We’ll cover the day watch and let the other four sleep.”

  “Sounds good to me, boss. I’ll go tell Bryce.”

  Christopher showed Nick to one of the small private rooms just off the main hallway. Nick lay down on the low futon in the corner of the room without taking off his boots. He set his M4 on the floor next to the bunk, checked to make sure he could reach it, then closed his eyes. In three breaths, he was asleep.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Thoughts of Yesterday

  In his dreams, Nick was fourteen again. It was the summer after his freshman year in high school, and his father’s unit was being rotated out of Afghanistan. Because his older brother Stan was doing an internship for college, Nick went up to visit his father at his current posting, the Phil Bucklew Naval Special Warfare Center near San Diego. His mother was dating someone new and was happy enough when Nick had asked to stay with his father for a month.

  It was the first time he’d been to San Diego, though his father had been stat
ioned there once before. He took the train from Los Angeles’ Union Station to San Diego’s central station, carrying only an olive-green military-style duffel bag with him. As he stepped onto the platform, he saw his father instantly; the guy was hard to miss. He was just a shade under six feet tall, bulging with muscle, and had close-cut blond hair. Even in his civilian clothes, a Hawaiian shirt and jeans, he looked every inch of the Navy SEAL he was.

  He also didn’t look like he could possibly be Nick’s father. Nick’s brother seemed to have gotten most of Alex Morrow’s genes—the blond hair, the blue eyes, the height. Nick looked more like his mother, in that he looked almost completely Chinese. Still, he had inherited one of his father’s traits—the solid, brick-shithouse build. Just before high school, Nick had started bulking up, developing muscle without really making an effort.

  “Number two son. How’ve you been?” Alex Morrow said, trying to suppress a smirk.

  “Five by five, sir,” Nick said, also trying to keep a grin from creeping onto his face.

  “You’re just calling me ‘sir’ to fuck with me, aren’t you?” Alex said, the smile now twitching at the corners of his mouth.

  “I have no idea what you mean, sir. You’re in, like, the Army, right? Isn’t that what you call Army guys?” Nick, too, was fighting the inevitable smile.

  “Get over here, jackass,” Alex said, the smile finally breaking wide on his face.

  He reached out and grabbed Nick in a bear hug, and Nick felt all of the air rush out of his lungs. He’d forgotten how strong his dad was in the year since he’d seen him.

  “So, how long have you been back from Afghanistan?” Nick asked as they walked through the station to the parking lot.

  “Couple of weeks now. Not minding the cooler weather, I can tell you that. Afghaniland is balls-hot right now. How’s your mom?”

  “She’s fine. She says ‘hi,’” Nick said, deciding not to mention her new boyfriend.

  His father laughed.