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LOCATION: WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM
CITY: WASHINGTON, DC
DATE: APRIL 15, 2026 | TIME: 5:00 AM
With their System enhancements, sleep was more of a suggestion than a necessity, so Grim and his team worked through the night.
He connected with Li Wei, his Chinese counterpart as co-leader of the global Peacekeeper Force, and set the ball rolling on one piece of his plan.
He looped the Core Council in, and they agreed to provide any support he needed. Including, it turned out, Vanessa joining them on their part of the mission.
Since William 'Buck' Raines was local, Grim met with him in person, and set the second piece of the plan in motion.
Crucially, Buck also agreed to interface with Nathan Rourke, the Director of Clandestine Operations at CIA, and get the two-pronged ops plan in front of the President.
Eleven hours after the strike on the Ford, President Trent was handed a leather folder. The CIA Director of Clandestine Operations, Nathan Rourke, was in the room and brought a presentation up on the main monitor.
The Joint Chiefs had been briefed and had already rubber-stamped it, and now it was time to get the ultimate approval.
"Mr. President," Rourke began, "there is a team we've been working with for some time. Former SEALs and other special operators who do some off-the-book ops for us as needed."
President Trent nodded. "Go on," he said.
"They are the same team that pulled off the dismantling of Bureau 121 in North Korea last June."
Jonathan Keaton leaned in toward the President and whispered a few details about that operation.
The President waved him away. "I remember, of course. Please continue, Director Rourke. I'm waiting for the part where this solves our problem better than a drone over Pyongyang."
Nathan Rourke continued with his presentation, laying out the plan Grim and his team put together with all the support CIA could provide.
The President kept coming back to questions about larger, more overt responses.
"Tell me why I shouldn't level half the fucking country and end their bullshit for good. Didn't we just send them two goddamned vessels full of grain? I remember seeing that somewhere."
Trent began shuffling through a stack of papers, clearly agitated.
"Yes, sir," Jonathan said, "although that was a private group. Voss Industries footed the bill. It was a ransom payment to take down The Eternal Solution site from the dark web."
The President stood and began pacing.
"That's more reason to blast them to bits. I don't see enough fodder for public consumption here," he said. "I'm not going to engage in diplomatic masturbation for a week while these guys slip inside the hermit kingdom and do their thing. The world will think we're weak!"
Secretary of State Joseph Branch spoke up for the first time in a while.
"Sir, this plan does achieve the goal of reducing civilian casualties. It also maintains the moral high ground in dealings with China, Japan, and South Korea. Not to mention the United Nations."
Branch smiled. "You may call it diplomatic masturbation, sir, but it's my job. I can keep the world on its toes waiting for the American hammer to drop long enough to give you plausible deniability."
"Meanwhile," Jonathan Keaton added, "we can ratchet up sanctions. Have the UN Security Council issue a resolution. That kind of shit keeps the headlines on our never-ending response until the headlines reflect the success of the missions."
"Plus," Nathan Rourke said, "if it doesn't work out, there's always the drone over Pyongyang. I just think this solution is more of a permanent one that allows us to look in the mirror at the end of the day."
President Michael Trent raised his hands, and all in the room stopped talking.
They knew this part of his process well. He'd heard all sides. Argued his first instincts. Now it was time to make the decision.
As a former military man himself, even if his enlistment was short, Trent had great faith in the special forces of the United States and its partners.
He closed his eyes for a long moment.
Then opened them.
"Get this Graham Thorne on the phone," the President said. "I want to hear it from him. But I'm leaning toward a yes on his plan. I want him to understand that on Day Seven, it's over, whether they are done or not. I pull the plug and go biblical on these assholes."
Rourke nodded and sent a text to Grim:
---
Operation Twin Fang is GREENLIT.
Godspeed, Grim.
RIP USS Ford.
And its crew.
---
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LOCATION: NORFOLK INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT
CITY: NORFOLK, VIRGINIA
DATE: APRIL 15, 2026 | TIME: 0700 HOURS
Grim and the team were already at Norfolk when the text from Rourke came in. The flight crew was on standby, and their flight plan approved.
After a call with the President where the one-week deadline was drilled into them, they were on their way. The mission was a go.
The team settled in, waving off drinks and breakfast in lieu of a little rack time. They were going to need it.
Just before 10:00 AM Pacific time, the smaller jet pulled into the Voss hangar at Hayward Executive Airport, outside of San Francisco.
Vanessa, Mallory and Darian were there waiting. They had black nylon gear bags that included every goody a stealthy special ops team needed.
Of course they all carried their System armor and weapons in separate bags. They were already being moved from the smaller jet to the Gulfstream G700 that would ferry them to Asia.
Darian shook Grim's hand.
"Take good care of her out there," he said.
"I won't let anyone touch her," Grim said, resting his left hand on Darian's shoulder. "We've all got her back."
"Hey," Vanessa cut in, "I'm no fragile flower here, you know."
They all laughed, and exchanged hugs and well-wishes before boarding the plane.
The Gulfstream G700 received clearance and began taxiing on the runway at exactly noon.
The crew brought them a small spread for lunch, and retired to the front cabin so the team could work.
"So," Vanessa said, "fill me in. What's the plan?"
Grim only smiled.
"We land at Haneda in eleven hours," he said. "Let's get started going over the ops plan."
For the next six hours, they went over every detail. Five times. Because in the field, there are no notes to reference. You must know your part, and trust your teammates to know theirs.
They were set to land at Haneda International Airport in Tokyo mid-afternoon, around 1500 local time.
Then they had two hours to transfer gear before they boarded an SF Express cargo plane bound for Dalian.
SF Express was the regional equivalent of FedEx or DHL. But, key to the mission plan, ran a lot of industrial components between China, Japan, South and North Korea.
Li Wei had arranged for a shipment of random steel components in large wooden crates to be purchased from Japan Steel Works. Six of the crates would be empty, with enough room for a human body to fit inside.
"I hope we don't have to stay in there for long," Brick said.
"You scared, big guy?" Nina asked, her hand on his cheek in mock compassion.
"Hey," Brick said, "claustrophobia is a real thing."
They laughed a bit, but he wasn't wrong. Being stuck in a wooden box barely big enough for your body while a forklift moves you around a warehouse isn't fun for anyone.
They would arrive in Dalian, China just after 1900, and then their mission could begin in earnest.
It was going to be a long day and an even longer night.
As they had a few hours left before landing on the last safe leg of their journey, Grim closed his eyes.
All he could see was Juan's last message.
If you don't avenge me, I swear I'm going to marry your mother in hell.
He smiled darkly.
Not today, old friend.
Not today.
At least on the proposed marriage.
Vengeance, however…
That's something I can do, Grim thought as he finally drifted to sleep.