Deadly Business

By E Lucas-Taylor

Deadly Business is an action-packed story with more than a few parallels to the current political climate, seamlessly woven into a thrilling storyline that convincingly draws you into the midst of the plot. A Black Market in nuclear weapons stolen from the breakup of the Soviet Union, the selling of stolen nuclear capability to the highest bidder, a bio-threat of dangerous pathogens directed at Western countries, hidden underground North Korean military bases, a plethora of unreported nuclear reactors, a planned invasion of South Korea and Japan. Follow Dexter Madison and Chloe Brennan as they attempt to stop a ruthless North Korean General from destabilizing the Asian Rim.

• Language: English
• Publisher: E Lucas-Taylor
• Release date: Jan 13, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301771530

E Lucas-Taylor

E. Lucas-Taylor has written for the Arizona Republic op-ed column, Austin Woman Magazine, and The Austin Networker. She is the author of ten books and compiled the award winning freelance marketing blog called: Snips & Tips & Keyboard Bits (on hiatus). Now in print: DARK PROTOCOL: Checkmate; Deadly Business; Lies, Spies & Unfinished Business; Lost Legacy; Dangerous Conspiracy; Soul’s Music: Thoughts & Reflections (available for all readers). She has contributed content to books/publications: When Diabetes Complicates Your Life; You the Healer; Sales Power; and The Silva Method For Business Managers.

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Deadly Business

E. Lucas-Taylor

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Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2012 E. Lucas-Taylor

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Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Epilog

Chapter 1

Wan Chai, Hong Kong

Zenith Morgan felt chills skitter along her spine as she stood in the late afternoon sunlight. Her friend, Chloe Brennan, missed their scheduled meeting, and the little Asian man didn’t make a bit of sense. He kept repeating the same thing over and over in broken English.

They leave Wan Chai long time. No here, he said

Go long time, he repeated, when he witnessed the look of disbelief on her face.

To Kowloon? she asked again. You’re positive?

"Yes, yes. Kowloon."

And Mr. Chun Yao?

He go too. The man continued to bob his head. Yes, yes, he go home Kowloon. With woman. Both go.

Loud voices from the nearby dock increased her sense of unease. Chloe would never leave the Wan Chai area without her. That wasn’t the plan under any circumstance. And, Chun Yao? He didn’t live at Kowloon. His home was at Wan Chai. Why would he go all the way to Kowloon so late in the day, only to turn around and return to Wan Chai again?

Zenith shook her head in disbelief. Can you direct me to a police station in the area?

If she misread the situation, she’d apologize for any trouble caused, but right now she needed answers and someone in authority to help get those answers. The police were her best bet. If that didn’t work, she’d contact the U. S. Embassy.

Come inside. Someone go with you, show way. No get lost.

The little man gave a respectful bow of his head and stepped aside to let her enter. When she hesitated, he smiled and motioned again for her to enter.

Zenith stepped inside the warehouse. It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the dimness. Those precious seconds were enough time to feel sharp steel at her throat, and the warm rush of blood into her mouth.

Washington D.C.

Henry Markovitch rearranged the file jackets on his desk marked CLASSIFIED-EYES-ONLY. Each bled cautionary red ink from a dozen feet away. He wanted paper to work with, everything spread out in front of him, not reams of data stretched across a dozen computer screens.

The North Koreans will have a field day if this gets to the news wires. He frowned at the man standing in front of him. Even casual innuendo will be blown into an international incident. No one can suspect you are going in. The yellow press is ready to hemorrhage conspiracy theories in a heartbeat over any perceived infraction, and since North Korea has a new boy wonder as Premier, they’re waiting to clap gleefully and take advantage of it. It’ll be another excuse to stall the disarmament negotiations.

Markovitch, a silver-hair veteran of two wars, spent the last half of his military career in clandestine Foreign Service. He looked like a benign college professor, rather than a hardened soldier.

He’s the man, thought Dexter Madison, the man politicians, power brokers, and the Pentagon brass sought out when a problem too hot for conventional channels crossed their desks. This had to be a big one to pull Henry into it.

Dexter served under Henry in the Navy S.E.A.L.S., before Henry became one of the most powerful men in the covert subculture of U. S. government. When he and his last his partner, Griffin Mayer, suspected the head of their old unit was a double agent, Henry turned the clandestine agency inside-out to find the subtle threads of espionage to prove it. What red flags everyone missed, Henry found with some creative digging, and they were able to stop some serious hemorrhaging of secret armament data from reaching America’s enemies.

Henry harbored no political aspirations of his own, but he knew how to play the political game. Immune to the intrigues and corruption that proliferated on Capitol Hill, he admitted nothing and denied everything. If he found his back forced to a wall, he knew how to defuse the situation with some wicked countercharges of his own, since he knew where a good share of the scandals were buried, and where many were building. Dexter also knew he’d be the only agent Henry could send into North Korea, the only one who knew the full scope of the present danger.

The other two men in the room were, General Silas Monk, a computer whiz kid who grew up to be a computer whiz for the U.S. Air Force, and General Mark Savage, a top U.S. Army Global Intelligence officer.

There’d never be a piece of electronic equipment Silas Monk couldn’t hack into, change, design or build, or make you think existed. What did exist would scare ten-year’s growth out of the average person. With a few computer key strokes, Monk’s geospatial intelligence team traced every report of suspicious activity that cropped up anywhere on the planet, and gave a cohesive timeline along with a pedigree. Monk could see the brand on a golf ball from space and count the dimples. The undisputed crème de la crème of techno-commando-land, an IT nerd in the purest sense, inter-department gossip hinted that he reversed engineered some UFO technology at Area 51, Roswell, New Mexico, and used it in the spy game.

General Savage, a product of many years of long hours at the top layers of the Pentagon, commanded the uncanny ability to fit bits and pieces of information together to come up with a chronological scenario. He found patterns and trends where you thought none existed. He never put forth a theory unless he examined every possibility, and could show you the layers and players involved.

Dexter felt elated to have Monk and Savage as backup. He needed good evaluation of the Intel he sent back from North Korea. Monk, Savage, and their supercomputer fit the bill. Not only did Big Brother live and thrive on planet earth, Big Brother lived deep in the bowls of the Pentagon behind an unmarked door, and these gentlemen had the key.

The silence in the room increased once Henry handed the paper files to Dexter for review. He studied Chloe Brennan’s dossier, trying to get into her head, an enigma who spoke her own ‘I-am-woman’ language. At one time, she worked Witness Protection for the Justice Department as a first-rate investigator and trial attorney. A tiny thing, she narrowly reached five-feet tall, though she’d argue the point. Possessing long, raven black hair and startling green eyes, she had a mouth able to slice the flesh off anyone who crossed swords with her. Many a trial attorney had deep scars to prove how lethal Chloe Brennan was in a courtroom. Now, she worked for Henry.

Dexter studied her file picture, a beauty, no matter how she sliced you up. Stylish and poised, when she spoke to you, she gave you her full attention. Her voice, low and somewhat husky, when she walked into a room, the space danced with her spirited energy. She was a top undercover foreign operative, and he hadn’t a clue in all the years he worked for Intelligence. He doubted his good pal, Griffin Mayer, knew about Brennan’s clandestine activities either. Griffin’s wife, Lindsay, might know the full story. The two women were close friends growing up in Arizona, and were clones of each other’s personalities.

Henry ran a tight ship. Everyone worked in small cells or worked alone. The hassle of running every threat or potential threat through Congress and the subsequent congressional stonewalling, and the Justice Department’s lawyerese, created a system to make the country ineffective and dysfunctional in its fight against terrorists and home-grown guerrilla factions, those hell-bent on disrupting the world. Then, you had other factions and special interests in government that didn’t want problems solved, and only added to them.

Henry’s people deployed at the first sign of trouble and disbanded once a mission completed. Pulled from different occupations and a variety of skills, all had a baptism of fire in covert operations. All knew how to fit into their roles and how to disappear into the mainstream once their mission ended. The volunteers answered to Henry. Henry answered to the President.

The department cut through months, sometimes years of political rhetoric and red tape. Wars were averted, global disruptions eliminated, and touchy incidents erased. The group bought time, a sense of calm, until voices of reason won out in diplomatic circles. Henry’s department also functioned without any military or political constraints, and no public awareness to gum up deployments with special interest protests.

Dexter wasn’t optimistic about this assignment. You’re going on the assumption Brennan is still alive? Dissidents and suspected spies disappear on a regular basis in the North. Not many people can stand up to the kind of torture the North Koreans use when they wanted information or compliance.

And then, there was Brennan, the kind of woman that men wanted to either protect, or pound on. She brought out rage in people when she wanted to and enjoyed the interplay. The skill is what made her a good trial attorney. She pushed buttons where you never imagined a button existed, and could foul up the best plans if you got in her way, or if she thought you were holding back information on one of her cases.

Yes, Henry answered. One of our informants is a Korean folk-medicine practitioner who visits remote villages up and down the North’s western coast. Yesterday he spotted a tiny non-Asian woman and an escort of armed North Koreans, and from the description of the uniforms, a special detail of General Cho Wan Tul. When he attempted to render aide, the barrel of several guns encouraged him to leave well enough alone. The woman’s hands and feet were shackled. The description fits Brennan to a T.

No word, no demands?

Henry shook his head. Negative.

What was Brennan doing in Hong Kong?

General Savage picked up the thread. Our operatives in Hong Kong reported some unusual activity in the warehouse district at Wan Chai. Satellite shows large dispatches of machine tooling parts to make guns are being moved to and from the warehouse district. We sniffed out some small arms sold to the North Koreans over the last ten months, and there’s a broad hint of nuclear weapons on the table. Email chatter about future tank movements from China to North Korea sent up red flags to the Pentagon. A few months ago, large amounts of ancient Korean jade and fine art came on the Black Market, we believe to raise money for more IT capability and military support. We also suspect nuclear capability is being sold and moved from North Korea to the Middle East to boost Islamic terrorist activity.

The reason why we sent Brennan in for a look, Henry added. She flew into Hong Kong with a journalism friend, Zenith Morgan. Morgan worked for one of the Washington news wires. Morgan wrote a series of newspaper articles on antique porcelain, and traveled often to the Far East to gather data for a forthcoming book titled, The Ancient Art of Asia. Brennan helped Morgan with the research, as her cover. Brennan’s directive, to get in, take a few weeks to nose around discretely, and get out again. Everything remained on schedule until a few days ago.

Dexter shifted forward in his chair; he took note of the past tense in regard to Zenith Morgan.

Henry stood and began pacing, a sure sign the news wasn’t good.

Our people found Morgan’s body behind an abandoned warehouse in Wan Chai, forty-eight hours ago. Body is mutilated to disguise identity; preliminary DNA is confirmed.

Dexter sat back and waited for the rest of it.

Our last coded message from Brennan occurred the afternoon she missed her check-in with General Savage. She had a bite on a jade burial urn, a suspected stolen museum piece, and some local big money exchange chatter. The warehouse belongs to a top Hong Kong Chinese business network with North Korean participation. It raised Brennan’s antenna, so she decided to take a look at it. He turned and looked at Dexter. The warehouse contact turned up floating in Hong Kong Harbor early this morning. A dockworker witnessed Morgan’s killing, Brennan’s abduction, and alerted our Embassy.

Henry rubbed the back of his neck in frustration.

Someone from the Embassy collected Morgan’s body. She’s being flown back to the States this evening for autopsy. He shook his head. We will have to figure out something to tell her family.

Henry stopped pacing to sit on the edge of his desk.

The alert turned serious on Brennan when someone tried to use her specialized PDA. A thumbprint and a fuzzy picture of General Cho Wan Tul came up on the screen. There’s some electronic shielding we have to work through to target a location.

Tul? Dexter didn’t try to hide the revulsion in his voice. General Tul, head of the North Korean military, a close confidant of the old Premier, killed his way to the top, and killed to stay there.

There’s another hiccup, Dex, and a serious one, though he’s been contained. We have a North Korean hacker living in England, who broke into a hundred classified U.S. and British military networks over the past ten months. We’re using his links for disinformation while the British and our types examine his hard drive. South Korea's Defense Ministry insisted months ago that North Korea and China trained hundreds of computer hackers to wage cyber-war. We suspect some of our government computers have been compromised by the Chinese. Monk can tell you the rest.

It’s true, General Monk agreed. Some 500 to 600 military hackers have been put through a five-year university course, and trained to penetrate the computer systems of South Korea, the U. S., UK, and Japan. The North Koreans are able to launch Botnets to gather intelligence from any system, no matter the security. Earlier this year things escalated. Monk’s voice lowered, became firm. They broke into two-hundred computers at ten government agencies in South Korea, and defense and security-related agencies on our base. South Korea's National Intelligence Services told us those attacks were launched from China. We also discovered the North Koreans are behind the abduction of dozens of biologists and IT experts, some reported missing for several years.

We believe all these random events are related, Savage interrupted. The warehouse in Hong Kong is registered as a Chinese company with heavy North Korean overtones. The North Koreans set up shop on Wan Chai in various trades with Chinese backers to stay under international scrutiny. Brennan is in a North Korean jungle after visiting the warehouse district; her PDA is in the hands of General Tul. The hard drive data from the hacker in England ties in with the Hong Kong warehouse district, and from there, Tul again. There’s something big in the wind.

Korean antiquities, Dexter mused, are seldom seen outside Korean culture. Chinese artifacts float out of China on a regular basis, but not Korea. Sounds like someone is trying to raise some serious cash.

This is where you come in, Dex. We want you to go in, extract Brennan ASAP, if she’s still alive. Henry's voice resonated heavy with meaning. While you’re there, do some recon for us. It’s vital we dismantle whatever is going on with Tul. Find out if he has the blessing of the new Premier, or if he’s keeping the kid in the dark. The President wants the disarmament negotiations to continue on schedule. It’s a powder keg over there, despite the promises between North and South and anyone in-between, even with a new, Western educated Premier.

Dexter nodded agreement. It isn’t any secret North Korea has missiles ready. Even with their missile-test failures, it tells us the technology is there. Not a week goes by without the regime saber-rattling. Japan will be a raging lunatic if those missiles are directed their way.

Savage interrupted. It’s a given the North Korean regime won’t stop until all of Korea is united under one rule, with the North as the absolute rule. With an untested Premier, the new boy wonder will have the sanction of China for as long as it suits them. China wants the Koreas united under Chinese rule. North Korea will continue to openly cultivate the Chinese hand that plans to defeat them. We believe Tul is playing a part in all this.

It’s quite possible, said Henry, this abduction is nothing more than a ruse to get the U. S. to back off the Big Six disarmament negotiations coming up next month. Kidnap an American on Chinese turf over stolen Korean antiquities, and you have an Asian Block incident, a way to stall negotiations with a global smokescreen.

Dexter shook his head. It’s too flimsy, Henry. It might work well enough to postpone negotiations until everyone sorts out the bullshit, but I think it’s more likely Brennan saw something at the warehouse. How good is her cover?

Henry smiled. Her cover is solid. Did you know before you walked in here?

Negative, Dexter answered dryly. I thought she was still a Justice Department flunky.

Brennan is a good Non-Official-Cover agent. She gets what she goes in for, no matter where you send her. Henry’s voice turned serious again. Once you get inside Korea, General Monk will assist you by satellite. Keep Brennan moving until extraction.

Henry, you may be asking the impossible. Tul doesn’t take prisoners to eventually free them. He beats on them pretty steady.

Henry nodded, well aware Brennan might be dead. Get her back in whatever condition you find her.

A knock on the door interrupted all conversation. Henry moved to the doorway to take a packet from an aide. Everyone waited as he thumbed through the latest Intel.

"Brennan is still alive. She’s being kept under tight security south of Hwanghae-do, twelve foot fencing, internal alarms, infrared sensors, the works. A pretty sophisticated setup for the North. The camp is cleared of enough vegetation for their solar collectors to give a general layout of a few buildings. Henry handed the satellite photos to Dexter. The NSA’s and AWAC’s network provided these. You have access to what you need to get in. The rest will be whatever you can carry, borrow or steal. No traces of you are to be left behind in North Korea, not even a candy wrapper. You speak the language; you know the culture."

He flipped a switch on his desk and dimmed the lights. A map of Korea, with North and South defined, projected on a large flat-panel wall screen. Up popped a high-resolution map to overlay in real-time. Known military encampments from satellite images were outlined, with the number of personnel at each site. He clicked on a satellite image of the prison camp, so detailed, you could see the movement and faces of the guards.

Mark, the floor is yours.

General Savage focused on the target area. This gives you a general layout of the camp, Agent Madison, he began, using his laser pointer. The area backs up to this mountain range, the location of one of General Tul’s private detention camps. The uniforms are Tul’s private guard. The area is too backwater, too isolated, and far enough away from the regime’s base of operations, to have any curiosity seekers drop in for a visit. Savage zoomed in for a closer image. A helipad outside the fence at the back of the compound, services one helicopter about the size of a U.S. Apache. What flies in is Russian made. With all the electronics under roof, we estimate the assigned personnel are limited to less than forty. That Intel changed early this morning. Two dozen more armed men moved in at sunrise. Our man on the ground said, Tul, and his female companion, Hwan Soon Wi, are scheduled to arrive in the morning. She does the more aggressive psychological interrogations for Tul. This building, he pointed again, is where the technicians who keep the place operational are being housed. The area around the building is kept cleared of vegetation. The rest of the camp is still under tree cover. The central buildings in the clearing have camouflage netting. We can give you more detail in a few hours.

Center of camp, the detainment building, thought Dexter, where he’d find Brennan, if she was still alive.

He encountered Tul before. Tul left dead bodies and misery wherever he tread. He well knew of Tul’s female companion, Hwan Soon Wi.

Preserve secrecy at all costs, Dex, Henry said with emphasis.

Yes, sir.

General Monk stood and faced Dexter. "We have a military jet on standby to take you to Guam, where aircraft is waiting to shuttle you the rest of the way in. I’ll be your electronic liaison with satellite maps, or anything else you need."

Monk pulled out a small, specialized PDA unit and passed it over to Dexter. Code in, he ordered. Upgraded a bit since your last assignment.

Dexter recognized the thin, compact electronic leash, a complete, miniaturized computer. He entered his service code and touched his thumbprint to the screen.

Monk smiled. If anyone tries to use it, it’ll give a burst of static. It comes with a built-in tracking device and a cloaked feed for any computer data you think we need to know about. Plug it into the interface port as you would a memory stick. It is super high speed, and takes less than seventy-seconds to transmit an entire commercial database. Monk set a watertight canvas bag on the table between them. Here are some new devices I think you will appreciate. He took out each one and briefed Dexter on the functions.

Henry rose from his chair when Monk finished his orientation. Silas will give you whatever else you need before you leave. Take the rest of the day to work out a plan, sleep, and digest.

I guess the next question is when do I leave?

2400, Henry answered without hesitation.

Dexter turned to leave.

One more thing, Dex.

Yes, sir?

I’ve, ah, I’ve notified Griffin and Lindsay Mayer about Brennan’s disappearance. Under the circumstances, I felt they should know.

Griffin, Lindsay, and Chloe Brennan, were a close knit group. The sooner he finished this assignment, the better, no matter how it turned out.

Chapter 2

North Korea

General Cho Wan Tul sat at his desk in the darkened room. A dozen computer terminals cast an eerie glow on the surrounding walls, and reflected off his stern Asian features.

He made many enemies over the years, and would be a fool to trust anyone. No one entered his domain without an invitation. The backside of the main house faced a deep wide gorge. Bulletproof glass and the newest western security systems gave another layer of protection from any intrusions. Attack dogs kept the inquisitive away from the estate fences. Chinese mercenaries, all veterans of combat with the deadliest of Russian troops, added to his security. Closed circuit TV cameras limited any attention lapses, and were hard-wired into the house’s main security system. Other security modes on the property were separate from the main box as backup.

He searched through the papers on his desk in an attempt to work through his foul mood. Complete secrecy, always essential, and not one of the people he employed knew the meaning of the word if this last breech gave any indication. Even his son, Jung, couldn’t be depended upon to think with patience and logic. The boy remained part of the problem, more so these last few months. The young fool ignored everything taught him.

He turned his attention back to the stack of printouts. He wasn’t fond of paperwork, preferring computerized data able to be purged once read, and left no paper trail. He scanned the reports again. Every bit of data revealed the same thing. He must interrogate the American woman soon, to find out if she witnessed anything at the Wan Chai warehouse. It appeared doubtful, though Jung’s people seemed to think a problem existed. Since his son took it upon himself to have the woman abducted, he must make sure.

The woman’s companion, eliminated, her body disappearing within hours. He wondered at the timing of it. Both women had to be spies, why else all these unanswered questions? In addition, the Chinese guide who took the women to the warehouse district? Killed before he could be questioned, yet more incompetence from his son.

He examined each item found in the women’s handbags again. He tore out linings and went over every piece several times. Baggage gathered from their hotel at Kowloon held the usual women’s jumble of cosmetics and clothing. Their laptops revealed nothing incriminating or suspicious, only chapters for a book they were writing. Outlines were in detail, some chapters completed. Their digital cameras held an assortment of pictures of vases and burial pots. All as it should be if the women were legitimate writers and researchers.

He picked up the Brennan woman’s cell phone, a thin device, one of those with a tiny screen to relay pictures. The battery appeared to be dead or dying. He tried several times to see the numbers called, whom she contacted. The phone didn’t work, only a bit of static showing on the tiny screen. Not unusual so far from the U.S. or any transmission towers. It’s possible the device may have been damaged in her bungled abduction. He hit a few more buttons trying to get the device to respond. Bah! The unit was completely dead. Useless. He tossed it aside.

The disappearance of two American women from Hong Kong would send up red flags in the international community. America still conspired with the South to discredit the North’s eventual sovereignty over them. This will end soon, he vowed. In a