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van made a bootlegger’s turn, tossing Vessler and the others around like dice in a cup. They rocketed toward the gate, leaving a thick cloud of smoke and the stench of burned rubber in their wake. The hippie put her MP5 down and grabbed a large first aid kit from a rack behind the driver’s seat. The man standing on the platform was firing in the direction of the ship. The driver, dressed like the other two, was fully focused on maneuvering at high speed.
    The woman looked over Pelton, the first aid kit open next to her. After a few seconds she yelled up at the man in the hole. “Tanner! One seriously wounded, gunshots and other trauma!”
    As they closed in on the gate, Vessler saw three figures in black charge out of the office building and climb into a second van.
    Vessler leaned back against the van’s side and wondered who these people were.

CHAPTER THREE 
     
     
    Rhee scowled as the smoke obscured his view of the DEA agents. Someone had rescued them, someone with skill and knowledge.
    One of his soldiers addressed him. “Sir, the men on the office building and the Chavez Street security team are not answering radio calls.”
    “Because they are dead, or close it.” Rhee turned toward William Hong, the Mountain Lord, leader of the Black Dao Triad. While Hong was taller and heavier than the North Korean, Rhee had no doubt he could kill the Triad leader and his bodyguards without too much trouble. “We had better leave.”
    “What about your men?”
    Rhee snorted. “Those men were nothing more than dregs of the local underworld. Petty criminals and street hoods looking for an easy payday and a chance to avenge themselves on the police and society in general. Disposable and deniable assets.”
    Hong’s expression reminded the major of a man who had bitten into something sour. “You assume that the Americans will roll over after losing a few of their agents.”
    “We do not have time to debate this. I have shown you my skills tonight. But now, we must leave. Unless you want to explain to the Americans why you are standing here with a dozen dead DEA agents and police officers.”
    Hong scowled, but barked out orders in Chinese and his men scattered. Rhee nodded and walked toward the cargo truck. The appearance of an unknown group was foremost on his mind. He needed to find out if they were a threat to his operation.
     
    #
     
    The rally point was a dirt lot west of Interstate 280 and by the time the vans arrived, there were several SFPD cars, a pair of ambulances and a late-model sedan with U.S. government plates waiting for them. Pelton was placed onto a gurney and carried to a waiting ambulance, the paramedics already calling out the patient’s vital stats. The rest of the DEA survivors and their rescuers climbed out of the vans. Overhead, a pair of CHP helicopters was heading towards the pier.
    Vessler looked for the unknown team leader, stopping when she spied a familiar face. “Nay?”
    Naomi Washington turned at the sound of her nickname, her expression a mix of surprise and pleasure. “Vess? That you?”
    They walked over to each other and embraced. “Damn girl,” Vessler said after they broke the hug. “Last I heard you’d been blackballed by the ATF. I never expected to find you—”
    “Saving your ass?” Naomi finished with a grin. She became somber again. “Sorry we couldn’t get there earlier. Our plane got held up. You okay?”
    Vessler scowled. “No, I’m not. I lost most of my team, including the SFPD backup. Heads are going to roll.” She looked Naomi up and down. “What are you doing? I could arrest you for half a dozen violations just looking at you!”
    “Vess, will you chill out? I’m on the side of the angels.”
    “But—”
    “Agent Vessler?”
    Vessler turned to look at a man walking up in a suit. Her first impression of him was Washington Bureaucrat , followed by the impression that he looked familiar. “And you are?”
    “John Casey,” he said, sticking out a