Death Dealers

Barium—that locked in Price’s mind. The material was naturally radioactive and, while it generally was not hazardous in a radiological manner or carcinogenic in water-soluble form, it was potentially poisonous. Its effects on the nervous system and muscle fibers were well documented, but as a serious weapon, the barium in even a concentration of seeder missiles or shells would prove wanting.

Seeded clouds could also be loaded with other hazardous materials, however. Price also couldn’t help but think that much of the concern over man-made climate change had no better source than manipulation of the weather of a half-million-square-mile area, barring pollution and natural volcanic ejecta.

“When I get in touch with David, I’ll have him check on that factor,” Price stated. “Either way, be it a MaRV warhead or weather manipulation, the potential for damage for each can be huge.”

“We’re not sure what was taken in China. Just that they released the cover story of a misfired missile,” Brognola reminded her. “It could have been something akin to what happened in New Mexico, where the inventors were taken. The wreckage is still being sorted through, isn’t it?”

“No assumptions are being made. Just keeping an eye on what could be coming down the pipe.”

“Let me know if anything pops up with Anna,” Brognola reminded her.

Price killed the connection and returned to the Computer Room. “Guys, one of you take a look into the Beijing Weather Modification Office to see what kind of materials and munitions they have on hand. Things might just get a lot more complicated now.”

“Weather modification,” Wethers mused out loud. “No stranger than Frankenstein-like organ hijacking, various forms of zombies and cannibal-psychosis-producing fungi.”

Tokaido cleared his throat. “Remember the time we saved the world from that weird shit?”

Delahunt smirked. “Remember? We call that Wednesday morning.”

“Enough shots from the peanut gallery. Carmen, you got the weird detail,” Kurtzman called out. “Barb, Phoenix is making contact now.”

Price nodded.

Hong Kong appeared on their computer screens. Kurtzman was watching local law-enforcement communications and Tokaido was checking for signal chatter among the more secretive groups. If things went to hell, Stony Man could watch. But only Phoenix Force could fight its own way out.

CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_fec3a27c-b68d-5c56-8cca-0776ab3e2aae)

David McCarter was alone on the streets of Hong Kong. While the initial plan was to have Phoenix Force act as cover and overwatch, that plan was not going to come to fruition. Five men, moving in a coordinated manner, would simply attract too much attention. Encizo and Blancanales were traveling as Argentine businessmen on a “busman’s holiday.” Manning and James were also in the role of tourist, this time both of them acting as Canadians.

Phoenix Force’s presence in the city was to be kept as low profile as anything, especially in regard to their operation on the Hong Kong docks, intercepting a shipment of heroin intended for American shores. Though the Stony Man computer crew looked for signs that the team had been recognized and was on watch lists, McCarter was still in a paranoid mood. It had been a classic Phoenix Force raid, full of fire and thunder, ending with his team disappearing into the shadows like smoke.

The Ministry of State Security had been both ally and enemy in the past, as corrupt entities within the agency had been keen on getting funding that didn’t tie directly to Chinese taxpayers. The destruction in society caused by drug-related crime was merely a side benefit. As Phoenix Force’s leader, McCarter had encountered enough American and British-run rogue operations to know that “his side” was no more innocent than the Red Chinese. Even so, the MSS was primarily concerned with the state, not the countries in competition with them, and certainly not foreign citizens.

McCarter finally reached the bar where he planned to meet Mei Anna. Ever since first working together in a mission to Hong Kong a few years ago, McCarter and Mei had been attracted to each other and had maintained a long-distance romance. It was one of the longer intimate relationships the Briton had engaged in, made slightly more difficult because of Mei’s professional obligations, not to mention McCarter’s constant vigilance and need as a member of Phoenix Force. Even so, Mei proved to be invaluable in dealing with Chinese situations; her linguistic skills were, naturally, better than McCarter’s own smattering of understanding.

He sidled up to the bar and ordered a bottle of Tsingtao for himself. While on the scene in Hong Kong, none of the team was armed, at least in terms of firearms. McCarter still had a folding pocket knife, as well as various flat, polycarbonate utensils. One was a D-shaped hand device that had a smaller projection straight out the back of the D. When McCarter wrapped his hand around it, a short cylindrical point jutted between his middle and ring fingers. That tip would concentrate the force of the Briton’s punch to the point where it could shatter bone. Neither it nor his concealed knife would be a match for an AK-47 blazing away at him, but if McCarter couldn’t go toe to toe, he’d fight from ambush and concealment. One broken trachea could equal a rifle and thirty rounds in his hands to even up the odds.

It was an absolute worst-case scenario, but Phoenix Force was always called in when the worst went down anyway. It was intellect, preparation and prowess that made up for lack of manpower and firepower in these desperate instances.

“Hey, stranger.” A soft, gentle voice spoke to his right.

McCarter swiveled on his seat, broadly grinning, his smile a beam as he beheld Mei Anna. She was deceptively small and sweet-looking, her hair in a pixie cut, a shoulder-padded jacket hanging open to reveal the silk slip that displayed her décolletage and would likely draw eyes away from what surprises she had on hand for an emergency. He slipped off the stool and slid his arms under hers, stooping so that their lips met, briefly yet intensely.

McCarter rose from the kiss and she followed it with a tight hug. In an instant his jacket pocket grew heavier and Mei gave him a quick wink.

“What’s new, Tiger Lily?” McCarter asked with a grin. On the few moments when they either weren’t working together or lost in the throes of intimacy, Mei and the Briton took a little time together to watch favorite movies. The rewritten espionage thriller redubbed as a comedy that McCarter referenced was one of those. So much so, it had become their unofficial greeting.

Mei climbed onto the stool next to McCarter, raised two fingers and didn’t even have to voice her order. McCarter returned to sitting, as well, taking a sip from his beer. The bartender returned with a pair of cocktails and an extra bottle of beer.

“You know these are delicious, so I can’t tell you they are new,” Mei said, lifting her cocktails. “Bring your beer, we’ll head to a booth.”

The bar itself was active but not crowded. There was certainly a good screen of background noise, but with no throng of bodies pressed together, the two of them could move easily to a quiet booth and not fear that the press of humanity could listen in on them.

As soon as they scuttled into the booth, side by side so that McCarter could wrap his arm around her shoulders, so he could feel the warmth of her against him, he set a quick kiss on the top of her head, enjoying the smell of her hair. She looked up at him, almond-shaped, deep brown eyes regarding him with affection. He could also feel a tension in her.

“What’s new is some seriously screwed-up stuff,” Mei said softly. “I’m assuming this sudden date is because of the troubles near Beijing?”

“Gobi Desert testing institute,” McCarter said. He reached into the pocket that Mei had filled and felt the outline of a small revolver, already snugged into a pocket holster. Hook and loop material clutched the inside of the jacket pocket so he couldn’t draw the revolver and look like an idiot pulling the leather sheath with it. “Thanks, by the way.”

Mei wrinkled her nose. “I couldn’t bring a Hi-Power...couldn’t fit it in my clutch.”

“So what happened up north?” McCarter asked.

Mei held her tongue for a moment, looking as if she didn’t want to say exactly. “Have you heard of the Beijing Weather Modification Office?”

“Yup,” McCarter answered. He didn’t say that Price had thrown him an encrypted text mentioning the possible involvement of the agency before he arrived at the bar. “Personally, I always wondered why they assigned almost forty thousand blokes to a rainmaking operation.”

“They are effective,” Mei returned. “They’ve done a hell of a lot of work.”

“And some of it might just be weaponized weather?” McCarter asked.

Mei nodded.

“Far be it from me to be skeptical, especially in the wake of taking out the Dragon’s Eye, a laser that could have leveled Taiwan, but how can cloud seeding and hailstorm busting be that much of a threat?” McCarter asked. “I realize that playing around with the climate on the scale of the nation of China could affect world climate patterns, but no rainstorm is going to take out an aircraft carrier group.”

“No, you would need something along the lines of a hurricane,” Mei returned.

That hit McCarter like a lump of iron slag in the stomach. “Hurricane? How?”

“In Taiwan, we were aware of the possibilities that China was working on a Massive Ordnance Air Burst explosive as a possible aircraft-carrier-killing missile. Enough to destroy the ship and perhaps cripple the support craft around it, without being an actual nuclear attack,” Mei said.

McCarter was familiar with the MOAB, a thermobaric explosive that came in two parts. One being a burst that diffused inflammable fuel or explosive dust over a large area, while the second ignited the aerosolized cloud, which itself would detonate. With a large dome of fire detonating, it would produce enormous pressure. In the twentieth century, they’d called the bomb a Daisy Cutter, since the detonation would cut every living thing down in the area, all the way down to the daisies. “I’ve had Gary make one or two of those.”

“I figured,” Mei responded. “Are you here alone?”

“I left them behind. I don’t need a bloody set of chaperones for a date with my girl,” McCarter answered.

Mei smiled. “You know that I have my own support crew around the place.”

“Especially the bartender,” McCarter noted. “Unless Taiwan took over the Russians’ telepathic research.”

Mei stuck out her tongue. It was meant to be a defiant gesture, but to David it was just unbearably cute. He leaned in and took a quick taste, lips crushed against hers. He didn’t want to break the kiss, but there was still business to attend to.

Mei cleared her throat. “The Dong-Feng can carry Multiple Individual Reentry Vehicles—I’m sure you remember MIRVs from the days when the USSR and dinosaurs roamed the Earth.”

McCarter gave her a poke in her stomach. “Was that an age joke?”

Mei chuckled. “Just making certain you’re paying attention and not undressing me with your eyes.”