Radius was in Seoul. She asked Yeji to meet her at a subway stop near the end of one of the lines. They took a seat on a bench at the end of the platform.
"How did things wrap up in Mongolia?" Yeji asked.
"Fantastic. All the prisoners were rescued, but I have to say, Vector, you're getting sloppy. You left one guard alive."
"You needed someone to interrogate, right?" Yeji grinned.
"We tried, but he didn't really know anything. We found his identity papers and the Chinese said that he is wanted for some pretty nasty crimes, so he's living with them for the rest of his life. We also had to pay the owner of that camel you set free $750. I should deduct it from your pay, but I'm feeling generous today," Radius said, smiling slyly. "I meant to tell you: you were the subject of a screaming match at MI6."
"It makes me really, really nervous that folks at HQ were talking about me. So, details?"
"We got into a shouting match as to whether or not you could kill John Wick."
Yeji exploded with laughter. "You've got to be kidding me! No one can kill John Wick!"
Radius smiled. "But let's say you fought one-on-one. Tell me how you'd approach him."
"It would be a good fight, for sure. For argument's sake, let's say there are no guns. What's challenging is that he can fight standing up or on the ground. That's how I like to do it, too. But my judo is rusty. And he's bigger than me, and that always counts for something. I'm faster than him, though, and I can attack from above, so to speak. But he has one disadvantage, and it's between his legs. Hit that, and it's all over." She paused. "If I'm being completely honest, I think I could take him in less than 30 seconds. I'm not bragging. He'd get a couple of hits in, though. I'm just trying to be realistic." Yeji smiled. "Actually, we got to meet Keanu Reeves on tour in LA. The stories are all true. He's the nicest guy in the world, for real. He went on a Starbucks run for us. Yuna is still in love and plans to name all of her children 'Keanu.' He's so nice he'd make the Dalai Lama look in the mirror and punch himself."
"I should have taken notes of what you just said so I can win the argument. Oddly enough, Keanu Reeves is a retired operator."
"Really!?!"
"God you're naive sometimes," Radius smiled.
"You know," Yeji smiled, "I enjoy our little chats. Maybe we should go on a cruise together."
For the first time, she saw Radius burst out laughing. "Oh, sure," she said. "Then maybe I can be the sixth member of your group. I was in the choir in middle school. Or we can all start a quilting circle."
"You'd always be welcome to try out," Yeji responded with a twinkle in her eye. "So anyway: what's next?"
"Vector, you're going to attack a container ship full of old cell phones."
"What!?!"
"Hear me out. While not many people do it, cell phones can be recycled. If you've ever noticed, sometimes at big box stores they have an electronics recycling box stuck in some corner by the shopping carts. Cell phones contain a variety of extremely rare elements like indium, neodymium, terbium and dysprosium. Don't ask me for any details on them, but trust me: once the metals are recovered, they can be used to build a wide variety of extremely powerful electronic devices - such as supercomputers.
We've learned of a disgraced CEO, Marcus Wright, who plans to build a parallel array of the biggest and fastest supercomputers in the world. He got mindbogglingly rich creating HR infrastructure for Fortune 500 companies. He's going to use it to take over the cryptocurrency market, by not only generating his own, but by decrypting current tokens. The value of this market is about $1 trillion. Crypto is still pretty exotic for most people, but it's now a key part of the financial system. If his plan succeeds, he'll hold the economies of the ten wealthiest nations on Earth in his hands."
"How did you find out about this?"
"He tweeted it. No joke," Radius said.
"Man, some people just don't get social media. You said he's disgraced. What happened?"
Radius frowned. "He's disgraced because he's a pig who couldn't keep his hands off of the women in his office. They all got together and called him out, and his board had to release him."
"Am I killing this loser?"
"If he seems like he's rational enough to interrogate, then no. But we've received intel that suggests he has lost his mind. Think Colonel Kurtz. Determine what a threat he is, and act accordingly. You have full discretion. You'll fly to Scapa Flow in Scotland, Britain's main naval base, where you'll board the nuclear submarine HMS Agamemnon. You'll leave the submarine, and climb onto the container ship from underwater. We have a team of elite SAS operators who will help you board. Once you've taken control of the ship, we'll have a crew helicoptered to your location."
"What about other crew aboard the ship?"
"We don't know if they are just the hired help, or if they're devoted to Wright. Your call."
. . . . .
Back to Scotland. Scapa Flow Naval Base.
Yeji landed at a secure airport and was driven in a blacked-out SUV to the pier, where the HMS Agamemnon, a nuclear attack submarine, was berthed. The entire pier was covered with a black canopy for this mission - because Vector was there.
Sailors were performing pre-sail maintenance on the sub, welding and repairs, as well as loading supplies and torpedoes. As Yeji walked toward the sub, she passed two men welding a fitting on the pier. One of the men, who was holding the high voltage cable for the arc welder, looked over his shoulder. Suddenly he thumped his partner on the shoulder. The man turned off the welder and they both scrambled to the edge of the walkway and saluted as she passed.
Yeji was confused. She wasn't military.
All along the pier, the sailors did the same thing as they passed. Mystified, she approached a woman in a crisp uniform.
"I'm sorry to interrupt," she whispered. "Why is everyone saluting me? I'm not in the military. I'm just an analyst," she fibbed. That was her default cover story.
"Ma'am, it's an honor to meet you. We're saluting because we know that our families are alive because of you."
Yeji was flabbergasted. The young woman continued. "The silent service is the most classified organization on Earth. For this mission, they told us the basics about you. Ma'am, I'm grateful, ma'am, I never thought that, well, you know, it's just, I'm just honored that I -"
Yeji was worried that the sailor would hyperventilate. She patted her on the shoulder, looked in her eyes, and said "So meeting me is a big honor, right? You've never met someone as skilled and as dedicated and who has sacrificed so much to keep their loved ones safe, correct?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Now you know how I feel about you."
. . . . .
Yeji couldn't believe how cramped modern subs were. Every inch of the wall and ceilings had something mounted to it: monitors, valves, fire suppression gear, long pipes carrying compressed air, etc. And none of it was padded or kept behind glass. If you didn't watch your step, a concussion and scalp wound was waiting for you. She waited on the bridge for a few minutes and finally heard a grumpy voice stomping and swearing down the steel-floored hallway that led to where she was waiting.
A man in a captain's uniform strode confidently up to her. "Vector, I am Captain Jarvis Atkins of Her Majesty's Ship Agamemnon, and I didn't want this mission, I hate spooks, and I'm going to get you off this ship as fast as possible."
Yeji shook his hand, squeezing it so tightly his face winced. "I understand how you feel. But we both work toward the same goal, sir. Your people are amazing. But I can assure you, we have amazing people too. And not to put a fine point on it, sir, but I've looked down more gun barrels, jumped out of more planes, and killed more people than you ever will, so let's make peace, respect each other, and maybe have a cup of coffee later."
The Captain squinted and jammed a cigar in his mouth. Then he burst out laughing. "I like you!" he shouted. He gestured at the other crew members. "We need ten more like her! But you make a good point. What you folks do keeps us from having to do what we do. Coffee in one hour in the officers' mess." He stormed out of the bridge, swearing and yelling at his people. Then the Executive Officer, or XO, motioned to her.
"I'll show you to your quarters, and then give you a quick tour. But please understand that I can't show you every part of the ship, particularly our nuclear weapons."
"You won't get an argument out of me, ma'am. I get scared standing near the microwave, let alone a nuclear weapon."
. . . . .
An hour later Yeji was seated in the cramped dining room, sipping a fresh coffee. The Captain, the Executive Officer, or XO, and six SAS commandos were also present. They each did a quick introduction, but with the levels of security that covered each of them, there wasn't much to say.
"Vector, here's our plan. We're going to intercept that boat in about 36 hours. Then we're going to bring this 7,500 ton submarine within a few feet of that 1,200 foot long ship. Lieutenant, take it from here."
A bearded man in his late 30s cleared his throat. "Welcome, Vector. We don't need to get into names, if that's ok. Once we're in position, three of these men will escort you out through an airlock built into this ship for exactly these kinds of missions. We'll affix a magnetic anchor to the ship's hull, and run a short traverse line from the airlock to the boat. You'll carry two battery-operated rubber-coated magnetic grapples designed to allow you to climb the hull. You'll also have a rifle-mounted grappling hook. Once you've used the ascenders to get above the waterline, you'll fire the hook up to the rail, secure the line, and attach a standard-issue climbing ascender. Then you make your way to the top. Make sense?"
Yeji furrowed her brow. "Yes. I have experience with climbing gear, except on the surface, not in the ocean. I'll have to learn fast."
"Just to be clear," the Captain said. "As soon as you attach to the hull, and the SAS men are back on the boat, we are leaving immediately. Having a nuclear-powered submarine so close to a moving ship is insanely dangerous, which is why I fought against this tooth and nail. You'll be underwater, all alone, and we can't come back to get you. I wish it were different, but if we collide, we'll have a nuclear disaster on our hands, and a dead MI6 agent floating face down in the water."
"I understand 100%. I'm actually glad you'll be leaving. I don't want to be responsible for something like that. Plus, I am trained to work alone."
"One question," the lieutenant asked. "What you do is so foreign to us. How many people have you killed in your missions?"
"I don't talk about that."
The lieutenant smiled. "Spoken like a true warrior. You just earned our respect."
. . . . .
Yeji thought she would die of boredom. She could have walked around the ship, but she felt like she would just get in everyone's way. Plus, if the whole crew thought she was some kind of hero, it would just make things weird. So she mostly stayed in her small room.
Because she traveled so light, she didn't have a book to read, and no phones were allowed on this mission. A sailor passed by her door and she asked him for something to read. He returned a half hour later with a thick manual titled Maintenance, Operation, and Cleaning of the M46 Pressurized Return System.
After reading the entire manual, she still had no idea what that system did. The young, enthusiastic sailor returned the next day (although there was no night and day underwater) and assumed she had mastered it. He asked her "Did you like it? I've read that 100 times. Boy, you never want to use the metric sprocket instead of the aluminum socket, am I right?"
"Tell me about it," Yeji said, forcing a smile.
He looked up and down the hall, and stuck his head a little further in her room. "Are you that lady from that group Itz-"
"NO," Yeji said firmly. "People tell me all the time that I look just like her. Don't you dare say the words 'cat eyes.' Anyway, I've heard that she is a spoiled, first-class pain in the butt diva!"
"Sorry ma'am, but I gotta disagree. No one here is really into kpop, so I can't tell them I'm a Midzy. I really want to meet her sometime. She seems nice and very talented. And I probably shouldn't say this, but she is smokin' hot."
Yeji could barely keep from laughing. "Yes, you probably shouldn't say that. Well, sometime I'll check them out on YouTube. I'm really more into grunge, actually. You know, like Nirvana."
"Who are they?"
Yeji just shook her head.
"Well, time for me to get ready," Yeji said. The man took the hint and walked away.
Yeji took a deep breath and opened the large rucksack the SAS operators had given her. She laid everything neatly on the bed and on the floor. For this mission, she couldn't wear her typical tactical outfit since she had to wear a wetsuit over everything. Instead, she undressed and donned a skin-tight shimmering black lycra jumpsuit that felt like it was at least one size too small. For the millionth time, she looked at her scarred feet and said We got this.
She also carried a small satellite-enabled pinger. Once pressed, it would signal the MI6 personnel to helicopter in and board the ship. Lastly, she pulled her hair into a long braided ponytail. I kind of look like Lara Croft, she smiled. Cool.
Yeji let out a quick breath and made her way toward the center of the sub, just aft of the bridge. That's where the airlock was. As she passed through the bridge, she could sense that everyone was really, really tense as they navigated the sub alongside and just below the massive container ship.
It was 1am. The SAS operators were there, suited up identically to her. Because of the drag, they couldn't use oxygen tanks. Yeji could hold her breath for just under four minutes, but of course, she hoped that she wouldn't have to test that.
There were handles inside the small space. A heavy steel door was bolted shut behind them. Then seawater began rising from a grate beneath their feet. Yeji breathed deeply in and out, as fast as she could, to get as much oxygen in her system as possible. The water reached her mouth and she held her breath, silently counting the seconds. When the water reached the ceiling, one of the operators opened the outer door. It felt like a gigantic hammer crashed into them. Since the sub was moving, water was shoveled into the airlock. Yeji spun around, trying to find something to grab. Her head hit the ceiling. For a moment, all she saw was yellow flowers and Ryujin's smiling face. It stung, but it wasn't anything to worry about. She shook her head and the image faded. Finally all four of them got oriented and made their way into the darkness.
The commandos had a device about the size of a large sofa cushion. Two long tubes ran the length of it, and within each tube was a high-speed propeller. One of the operators attached a line to it, grabbed onto the handles in the back, and gunned it. They moved very quickly and very precisely. Dragging a line along with him, he jetted across the gap between the sub and the hull of the ship, a distance of about 20 feet. Yeji couldn't believe such massive vessels were so close to one another, and that she and the operators were right between them.
When he reached the ship, he quickly unclipped two disk-shaped devices that looked like rubber-coated waffles. She could see a green LED flashing on each. Then he pressed a button and each disk clamped to the ship. He motioned to Yeji. She pulled herself along the rope, the rifle and grappling hook slung over her back, and a coil of thin rope clipped to the belt around her waist. She reached the ship and grabbed the handle on each disk. Then she made an "Ok" sign. The SAS operator saluted in return, and made his way back to the airlock. She disconnected the line. The door closed, and Yeji saw the massive sub dissolve into the darkness as it descended.
She could feel her lungs beginning to burn, and her heart was speeding up. Fortunately, because of the excellent piloting of Captain Atkin's crew, the surface was only about 20 feet overhead. But the clock was ticking. She didn't have much time before she passed out.
She deactivated one magnet with a thumb switch, moved it further up, and then activated it again. Then she did the same with the other, crawling up the side until her head popped above the water. She took an enormous breath, let it out quickly, and took another. She was trembling.
I never, EVER, want to do this again, she thought.
After a minute of deep breathing, and still holding on to the metal disks, she assessed the situation. She looked overhead and her heart sank. MI6 thought that the sides of the ship were straight, which would make firing the grappling hook easier. But these were sloped outwards as the hull rose. Then it hit her.
They're using a different ship, or this is a decoy.
Somehow she had to be able to push away from the ship and fire the hook before she crashed back against the steel. Then she had an idea. She wasn't that far from the bow, and at the bow would be an opening for the anchor chain. What if she could fire through it and pray that it caught onto something?
For the next 15 minutes she moved along the hull, clamping and unclamping the metal disks. Her arms felt like they were on fire, and she was gasping for breath. Looking up, she saw that she was directly below the anchor chain cutout. She slid the rifle around and took it in her hand. This would be shooting with one hand, more like a pistol than a rifle. She pushed the long end of the hook into the barrel of the rifle, took careful aim, and fired.
It seemed like it took five minutes for the hook to reach the opening. It was at the limit of the rifle's range, but Yeji heard a faint clang. Gently she pulled on the rope until she felt it go taut. It worked! From her belt she removed the climbing ascender, attached it to the rope, and made her way slowly to the top.
Yeji grabbed the railing of the ship and pulled herself over, flopping onto the deck on her back. Her chest heaved, and she desperately needed water. She knew that at this time of night, the crew would probably not be walking the deck.
She stood up and looked around. Then she looked up. It was terrifying. The stacks of containers had to be 200 feet high. The walkway that ran around the outside of the deck was perhaps only six feet wide. She felt like she was walking through the downtown of a massive, empty futuristic city. The scale of the ship was scaring her. When she looked for the bridge at the back of the ship, perhaps 1,000 feet away, she saw that the lights on top were blurry from mist. This ship had its own weather.
Yeji couldn't believe that one man had the resources to own something like this, and that his fortune was built on nothing more than making it possible for people to apply for jobs online. People she had known had been paid peanuts to die for their country. She was quickly learning to hate this guy.
Time for some recon. She took off the wetsuit. The skin-tight bodysuit? Yeji was not a fan. It had no pockets, and frankly, she felt completely uncomfortable, as if she were wearing sexy clothes to do a mud run.
She jogged along the path that ran the length of the ship, occasionally ducking in among the stacked containers so she could look for entrances and exits. But to prevent a situation like The Titanic, the bulkheads were all bolted tightly closed to prevent flooding.
Within ten minutes she was at the five-story tall bridge complex. She tiptoed to a door and tried to open it, but it was locked, so she decided to try a strategy she'd developed on her own called Yo, Where Did Andre Go?
First she thumped on the steel door as hard as she could, the noise echoing around loudly on the other side of the door. She got into position so when the door opened, she'd be behind it. Within half an hour she heard heavy footsteps and the door creaked open.
"Who's here!?!" a man with a thick Slavic accent asked. Yeji pushed the door against him hard, sending him stumbling backwards. She was on him before his body hit the ground. She pushed her forearm against his larynx until he was unconscious in less than a minute. Then she dragged his body about 20 feet from the door, right in front, center stage, and then took up her position again.
She noticed something weird. The man had a thick black line tattooed from his hairline all the way to the tip of his nose.
It took about 10 minutes, but she heard the same stomping feet again. The door opened, and the man gasped at seeing the body of his friend. Yeji banged the door against him and repeated the process, laying his unconscious body next to his friend's. He also had the strange facial tattoo. She knew what was happening inside the ship. Each time a man didn't return, one of his friends asked himself:
Yo, where did Andre go?
She took out three more sailors, one at a time, in the same way. Then two appeared at the same time. Yeji would lock up the arm of one under her armpit, pop his shoulder out of socket, box the other's ears, flip the first guy on his back, and then drop to her knees and choke them out with both arms at the same time. Very few people will simply lay down and let you choke them to sleep. But people who are in a lot of pain, from, say, boxed ears or a dislocated shoulder, tend to focus on the pain more than being put to sleep.
So far, every single man had the strange mark on their faces. A cult, Yeji thought. Great.
Yeji tiptoed inside. There was a bit of commotion as the crew realized that a lot of Andres had gone. This is what she wanted. A coherent body of armed men would be impossible to defeat. But individuals, nervously wandering around, and scared for their lives since their friends had disappeared into thin air, was something she could work with.
She entered the ship and looked for a door to the engine room. It wasn't hard to find. Rotating the handle silently, she made her way down into the heart of the ship. The noise was deafening. Much like the sub, there were massive pipes everywhere, as well as a line of five massive tanks full of fuel oil. She walked to the other side of the ship and found a small control panel.
Yeji had a plan, but this environment and technology was completely foreign to her. She needed to take control of the flow of air and fuel for the entire ship. The control panel was confusing, a collection of dials and digital readouts all hooked to a keyboard and mouse. Nonetheless, some things seemed vaguely familiar.
Then she exploded with laughter, and laughed harder than she could remember. It was funny how life worked, because she remembered that she actually understood the system inside and out.
After all, she had read Maintenance, Operation, and Cleaning of the M46 Pressurized Return System.
If he was there, Yeji would have kissed that kid. Of course there were major differences between the sub and this container ship, but she understood the principles.
The first step was finding the ship's air-handling unit, and in particular, the part that vented the engine exhaust outside. For safety, ships were built with a high level of redundancy. The hot exhaust generated by the engines might be needed another time to power the hydraulic system. Since the hydraulic system also powered the automatic air vents for the crew, the two systems overlapped in one small way. The exhaust wasn't set up to vent into the crew spaces, but the only thing that separated them was a four-inch valve. Yeji found a pry bar and leaned it right against the valve for when she'd need it.
Step two was something she could do from the control panel. In order to vent leftover fuel fumes when the tanks were cleaned by hand, pressurized air could be injected. Yeji couldn't believe that the designers had perfectly set up the tanks to be a bomb. The air pressure would blow the tanks in perhaps 30 seconds, so she'd have to do it manually.
She grabbed the pry bar and approached the small valve. With as much force as she could, she jammed it into the heart of the whole assembly. There was a massive blast of high-pressure air that sent her skidding backwards along the floor. She jumped to her feet, retrieved the pry bar, and again speared the valve. Suddenly there was a terrific concussion as the valve flipped.
Now it was time to hold her breath again. This time, she brought the pry bar with her as she stormed the crew quarters. Something was off. The first man she approached was on his knees, clasping his throat and turning pink. The roar of the smoke-filled exhaust was deafening. She trotted past all of them. In some cases, there were guns laying on the ground beside them. They didn't even reach for them.
Yeji's eyes and lungs were burning as she crept around the corner onto the bridge. Wright had her back to him. She grabbed him by the shoulder and when she saw his face she jumped back.
He had the same black-line tattoo, but also had a red dot, perhaps half an inch in diameter, on either side of his forehead. His eyes were wild and he was raving about being a god.
Yeah... we're not going to get much intel from this guy, Yeji said to herself.
She picked up the pry bar and hit him so hard her elbow popped. He fell on the floor, face down in a growing pool of blood.
Yeji retraced her route and emerged outside. She fell to her knees, gasping for air and spitting over and over to get the diesel oil taste out of her mouth.
Once back in the engine room, she rotated a dial that said "OP SET AB" all the way to the right and slammed the green button. Then she raced back up stairs, stood on the edge of the ship, and did a graceful dive into the ocean below. Swimming hard, she was about 100 yards away when the ship blew.
First, a giant orange, flat disk exploded out of the middle of the ship. Yeji was surprised that it was silent, but she kept swimming as hard as she could. Then came the largest explosion, the most powerful sound she'd ever heard. The ship disappeared in a ball of white, blowing out Yeji's eardrums.
Reaching up her sleeve, she pressed the satellite pinger and then simply floated on her back. Well, they won't have a ship to board. Then she watched at the stars, trying to see if she could connect the dots and see Ryujin's face.