Origin - Season Two (40 page)

“Based on what you’ve shown me,” Jasper said, “I’d say this was an access tunnel of some kind. It’s obvious from the location of the structure and the blades being used that it runs below the river. Judging by the size of the operation and the amount of time you say it’s been going on, my guess would be that it’s somewhere between fifteen and eighteen kilometers long.”

“You can tell all that from here?” Richelle marveled.

“It’s only an educated guess,” Jasper replied. “Call it the most plausible scenario. The equipment they’re using is a tunnel boring platform. If they were excavating an underground structure of some kind the hardware required would be entirely different.”

“So they
are
digging a tunnel to the South,” Francis said.

“Am I right in saying that this is why I was in Dubai?” Jasper asked.

“It certainly looks that way,” Francis said. “Although
why
they needed you isn’t exactly clear.”

Jasper turned back to the laptop and brought up a map of Seoul. He studied it for a moment and said, “Would you like me to take another guess?”

“Please do,” Francis said.

Jasper pointed at a blue square with the letter M inside it and said, “Daehwa Station.”

“What about it?” Mitch said.

“This is the final station of the Seoul subway. It’s the largest subway in the world, by distance. It’s also one of the deepest.”

“You actually think—” Watkins began.

“A tunnel of this kind needs a level end point,” Jasper said. “You can’t just steer it toward the surface. Normally you would have a machine working from both ends. The calculations required to position the exit where you want it are complicated enough if you can guide the machine by surface sonar and GPS as it moves forward.”

“But they can’t do that,” Francis said.

“It would seem unlikely,” Jasper said.

“Assuming that’s what this is all about,” Francis said. “I still don’t see how they could get to the end unnoticed.”

Jasper typed something into the search engine and sat back. They all stepped forward to see what he was looking at. It was an article in the Asia
Times
dated only two days ago. The headline read: “Chinese Firm Wins Bid for Seoul Metro Extension.”

Beijing, China

Tuesday 26 June 2007

0700 CST

The first sign Commander Duan received that all might not be going as well as he had thought arrived before he’d even had a chance to drink his morning tea.

As befit any intelligence organization, the directorate had a number of people in its service intended to provide an additional source of confirmation, especially in matters as sensitive as Project 38. One of these was the senior pilot of the transport helicopter moved to Nampo to ferry parts to the tunnel project. Using a satellite transponder built into the instrument panel, he had sent a message that morning informing Duan of the arrival of a large contingent of troops at the facility.

Although a little odd, this did not give Duan any cause for immediate concern. That came an hour later, after all efforts to reach General Rhee had failed. Duan, who spoke fluent Korean, talked to the duty guard commander at Nampo, only to learn that neither Rhee nor his assistant Pok were there. When asked when they were expected back the answer had been vague.

Still refusing to believe that anything was fundamentally wrong, Duan had used the secondary channel, Rhee’s satellite phone, to try and get hold of him. There had been no answer.

That had been an hour ago, and it was now close to noon.

Duan picked up the phone and asked his assistant to put a call through to the intelligence chief at the Chinese consulate in Pyongyang. But when his phone rang a couple of minutes later, it was not the intelligence chief but Minister Yew.

“Commander, we have a situation.”

“What do you mean?” Duan said.

“We believe Jasper Klein was apprehended in the United States several days ago.”

Duan did his best to sound surprised. “In the United States?”

“Yes,” Yew said. “The intelligence officer at the embassy believes he was taken to the offices of the federal police and may have escaped.”

This time Duan didn’t need to pretend. “Escaped? How?”

“We don’t know. But until we have confirmation, I want all ships bound for Nampo stopped. We can’t afford anyone making the connection.”

In a way, the news delighted Duan. If it was true, it would cause a serious delay on the tunnel project, but listening to Yew squirm was almost worth it. And the old shit knew he had lost the upper hand with the arrival of the warheads in Nampo. It was in his voice and the uncharacteristic calm he displayed.

“The Xilin Gol is due to arrive tomorrow evening,” Duan said. “I’ll see to it the ship is anchored right away. When can we expect to know more?”

“I’ll contact you as soon as I have any information,” Yew said. “In the meantime anything your office can do to assist would be greatly appreciated.”

He almost cooed with delight at the groveling tone of the old man. Only days ago Duan had been reprimanded for his actions in Goa. Now the shoe was apparently on the other foot.

“I’ll do what I can,” Duan said. “Although General Rhee will not be pleased about the delay.”

“Tell him whatever you need to,” Yew said. “Offer him an incentive if you must.”

“You’ll authorize a payment?” Duan said, barely able to keep the delight out of his voice.

“If it comes to that, yes.”

“Very well, I’ll see to it,” Duan said.

For a moment Duan forgot all about the report and his difficulty locating Rhee. He thought a cash withdrawal of twenty thousand US dollars might be just the thing to placate the general, none of which he would ever see, of course.

He lifted the receiver on his office phone to order the delay of the Xilin Gol as promised, then put it down again. Yew was panicking because, like the rest of the council, he knew few of the details surrounding Project 38. The Xilin Gol was a dry bulk carrier shipping only cement and a few remaining components of the tunnel train. There was no way to connect it to the Beixiang or any other vessel used to move supplies to Nampo.

It wasn’t the last mistake Duan would make, but it was certainly the biggest.

Nampo, North Korea

Tuesday 26 June 2007

1530 KST

Rhee watched from the warehouse entrance as a group of soldiers lifted the frame from the ground and carried it to the bed of the truck outside. Beneath the canvas cover it looked innocuous: a playground carousel perhaps, or something equally innocent. As soon as it was tied down, the truck was driven back into the warehouse.

“Everything is in place, sir,” the major said.

Rhee looked up at the sky and offered a silent prayer, something he was making a habit of these days.

Had he been aware the moment was not as private as it appeared, he might have offered a wholly different prayer. But of course he had no way of knowing, and wouldn’t have believed it if he did.

The Pandora

Tuesday 26 June 2007

0930 EEST

“He’s an ugly son of a bitch,” Mitch said. “I’ll give him that.”

Francis looked into the upturned face of General Rhee and felt the goosebumps rise on his arms. “Careful what you ask for, little man. You just might get it.”

“You think they’re moving it to the tunnel?” Naoko said.

“Most likely,” Francis said. “I guess we’ll know soon enough.”

They had to wait less than an hour.

The tension on the bridge of RP One was just beginning to ease when the gates were opened and a single truck drove out of one of the warehouses. It moved along the road toward the dock with obvious haste. When the truck was waved through the security checkpoint, it drove inside and came to a stop behind a row of shipping containers. The occupants—Francis counted over a dozen—quickly disembarked and began to fan out among the buildings and equipment that littered the dock. Mitch zoomed out, bringing both the dock and the Xilin Gol into view. In the thermal image a plume of purple smoke was rising from the stack above the superstructure at the stern. The men were now little more than blue dots moving collectively toward the water in short sprints. When they had come as close as the available cover would allow, two men on either end of the advance sprang from cover and ran toward the mooring bollards.

“Christ,” Richelle said, “They’re—”

“Hijacking the ship,” Francis finished. “And they know exactly what they’re doing.”

The men climbed the ropes with surprising speed. In under five minutes the entire team was on board. Half the men spread out over the ship as the rest clustered around one of the doors at the bottom of the superstructure and quickly disappeared inside. From the time they left the complex, the entire operation had taken less than ten minutes.

Mitch was about to shift the monitor back to the compound to see what else might be happening when a convoy of six trucks drove through the security gate and stopped next to the ship. The dock was suddenly awash with men. Most of them began unloading the trucks and making their way up the gangway with the cargo.

“What are they doing now?” Titov said.

“Settling in for the long haul, by the looks of it,” Francis said.

“I don’t get it,” Richelle said.

Before Francis could elaborate another truck approached the ship. Sitting on the back was an object they all recognized. It was joined a moment later by a small mobile crane. As they watched, the custom-made frame was gently raised from the bed of the truck and over the side of the ship where several men helped guide it into position between two of the closed cargo hatches. As soon as this was done the men piled back into their trucks, and the convoy left as quickly as it had arrived.

Mitch, who had been watching these events with a kind of stupid disbelief, now sprang to action. He placed markers on the trucks as they drove through the gate, then put one on the ship and zoomed out until the entire region was in view. Instead of returning to the compound, the trucks passed it and headed north up the main road toward the city of Ryonggang.

“So?” Richelle said. “Anyone care to venture a guess as to what the hell these people are up to?”

Francis stood looking at the screen for a moment and said, “I don’t know what they’re up to, but I have a feeling their cooperation with the Chinese may have just come to an abrupt end.”

Beijing, China

Tuesday 26 June 2007

1530 CST

What pleasure Duan had derived from the debacle of Jasper Klein’s discovery and subsequent escape had quickly given way to renewed worry about the location of General Rhee. Every effort he had made to contact Rhee proved futile. Even his attempt to reach Vice Marshal Hwang, Rhee’s commanding officer, through the embassy in Pyongyang had failed. If that wasn’t bad enough, no report had arrived from the pilot at Nampo this morning. Concluding rightly that something had gone horribly wrong, Duan was in the process of removing the Project 38 files from his safe when his phone rang.

It was Rhee.

“Where the hell have you been?” Duan said, his anger only slightly tempered by the accompanying relief he felt.

“Things have been busy,” Rhee said.

“Where are you?”

“At Nampo.”

“Well, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t disappear like that again,” Duan said. “I’m not the only one around here whose nerves are on edge, you know. We’ve taken a great risk, General, as you’re surely aware.”

Rhee was silent for a long time. When he spoke it was with an air of defiance Duan didn’t like the sound of one bit. “Kim wants to see his wife and child. He’s becoming increasingly difficult to manage. I’ll have to insist they be flown to Pyongyang immediately.”

“Out of the question,” Duan said. “And frankly, I’m surprised you would even ask.”

“It’s not a request,” Rhee said. “It’s a condition of our further cooperation.”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Duan said. “This is
our
operation. If it wasn’t for me you wouldn’t even be where you are now.”

“Perhaps,” Rhee said. “But I am. I suggest you speak to your superiors and explain that things have changed.”

The calm in Rhee’s voice only served to infuriate Duan further.

“You listen to me, you piece of shit,” Duan said. “I could have you hunted down and shot with a phone call.”

“Then why don’t you?” Rhee said. “Just remember that we
too
have something that belongs to
you
. I’d be willing to consider a trade.”

Duan was about to reiterate his threat, but stayed his tongue.

“That’s right,” Rhee said. “You can have your toys back.
How
we return them is up to you.”

“You’re bluffing,” Duan said.

“Am I?” Rhee said. “I wonder what the world would make of your plans to blackmail a peace-loving country like ours into doing your dirty work for you. How appealing do you think all that cheap labor will be once they learn the truth?”

Duan didn’t answer.

“Well, commander?” Rhee said. “Have I got your attention?”

“I’m listening,” Duan said.

“Good. You will deliver the boy and his mother to the airfield at Sunan within twenty-four hours. You will then provide guarantees in writing to double the level of economic aid and remove all existing restrictions on weapons. If these conditions are met in full I will arrange for the return of your merchandise.”

“You’re insane,” Duan said. “Even if the committee chose to cooperate, it has no authority to make such concessions.”

“Oh, I highly doubt that,” Rhee said “Now I suggest you stop patronizing me and make arrangements for the flight. I’ll be in touch once they arrive.”

When Rhee hung up Duan pounded the receiver into his fist several times, then ripped the phone from its socket and threw it across the room with a howl of fury.

When he had regained some semblance of calm he took the rest of the files from the safe and placed them in his briefcase. Using one of several cell phones scattered inside the top drawer of his desk, he ordered a taxi to pick him up several blocks away and left his office. He had just reached the front door of the building when two cars came to a screeching halt outside. Three men in civilian clothing sprang from each and ran toward the steps. Duan turned around and made his way back to the stairs. He reached the first basement level just as the men upstairs began shouting.