CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Announcements were being made on every public address system in the country. Speakers were blaring it in every community in the city. The president was dead, but the new president would address his people this afternoon. Businesses were to close, schools were closed, factories were closed. Everyone would be present.

As Park readied himself in his uniform, his gleaming medals hanging from his chest, he called out for his aid.

"Chong! Chong, where are you?" he yelled. The door opened, and another aide came in, nearly cowering before him.

"I'm sorry, sir. I don't know where Chong is. May I help you?"

"Yes. I need a clean copy of my speech. Get it for me quickly. Also, make sure they've put the raised dais on the balcony so that I am at least five inches taller than my cabinet. I will not be seen looking up to anyone."

"Yes, sir."

He was still fuming about the jet being destroyed, but he would make it happen anyway. He would find a way to build something better than the Americans and make it the most feared fighting jet in the world.

Park would start with South Korea, taking what should have been theirs seventy years ago, then work his way to Japan and then up through China. He would take them province by province, slowly making sure that he expanded his empire.

When the time was right, he would move into Russia, Taiwan, the Philippines, and all of Southeast Asia. His dreams were big, and he would make them reality.

One by one, his cabinet members entered the room, smiling at the general. He'd made them believers in his dream from the very beginning. They'd followed him faithfully, ensuring that everything was done as planned. When it was finally completed, when the president was dead, they supported his nomination to take over the presidency.

The country was his.

"We must be unified in our approach," he said to the men. "I'm certain that they will know we are in charge now. We will run this country."

The men all smiled, and secretly, Park congratulated himself on using the term ‘we' so many times with them. The truth was, when he was in the right position, he would kill them all. He opened the drapes to look out at the square and smiled. Hundreds of thousands of people crowded the space.

The military was present, the tanks, missiles, and guns in full view, his soldiers at parade rest on the field below.

"Sir, it's time."

Conor and the team found spots around the square where they could get a good shot if they needed it. As tensions built in the square and people anxiously awaited the appearance of their new leader, they waited for word that the Osprey was on its way.

"Abe, Hiro, and Tanner made it," said Conor to the others. "They're waiting in the tunnel with the UPDs. If we can get this done, we can cross the river to the tomb and meet them there."

"It's still a long run, brother. We're going to have to go and go fast," said Cowboy.

"Or," smirked Rush, nodding to the rows of motorcycles below them. "We could hop on those and race across the river."

"They would see the bikes moving but not us," said Christian. "That's a huge risk, and we'd be getting shot at. There has to be another way."

The men scanned the surroundings then looked toward the river. Small passenger boats were docked, having brought visitors across the river for the announcement.

"There," said Tobias. "We get to one of those boats, get across the river, and to the tomb. That's our best bet."

"Agreed," nodded Conor.

"We're headed your way, boys. Remember, don't shoot upward."

They all smirked at Evie's voice, hearing the chuckles of the others. If Eagle, Hawk, Joseph, and Nathan could do the majority of the work, their job would be done.

When the drapes opened on the balcony, the crowd erupted in thunderous applause. Their fear of their new leader was palpable, but they would not give him the satisfaction of seeing it. They would do what was expected of them until they no longer had to. Right now, if they didn't cheer loud enough, he might kill them all, or at least that's what they believed. It wasn't a way to live, and maybe they would get the opportunity to live in a different way. If the VG team had anything to say about it, the people would be free.

"We're above the square, boys."

"Holy shit, I don't see or hear anything," said Rett. "That's some crazy-ass shit right there."

"Me either. I don't hear or see anything," said East.

"I think that's what it's supposed to do," said Conor. "Let them do their thing. No winds, clear skies, let's hold our breath."

Men began to walk out onto the balcony, each one with more ribbons and medals than the next one. When it was time for Park, he stepped up on the small dais behind the balcony ledge, making him appear taller than the other men. They all looked toward him, frowning.

"I count eleven with Park," said Rush.

"Eleven it is, boys. In three, two, one."

The rifles barely made a sound as the first man fell beside Park. Then, it was as if they were watching dominoes fall. One by one, the men tumbled. Showing his true colors, Park grabbed one of his aides, forcing the man in front of him as he slowly backed into the room. He closed the drapes, but the bullets continued to fire.

"Find who is shooting!" he yelled.

Men scrambled, falling as the bullets continued to come through the glass and curtains. Park crawled on his belly until he reached the hallway, running down the passage toward the secret back stairs.

"We got them all but Park," said Joseph. "Find him."

"Let's go, boys. We're not done yet."