Targets of Opportunity (53 page)

“You used me, Jordan.”

“That’s such a cold way to put it, Billy. Let’s just say you helped me without realizing it.”

Sternlich frowned. “Are you going to tell me what it was all about?”

“What do you want to know?”

“That scene in my office, that was staged, wasn’t it? You wanted to provoke Donaldson.”

“Who’s Donaldson?” Sandor replaced his glass on the small table between them. They were seated in the comfortable old armchairs in the lobby bar of the Algonquin Hotel, their favorite spot for cocktails together. Sandor had returned from Panmunjom a few days earlier, spent the rest of the week in Washington, where he went through debriefings, visited Craig Raabe and Jim Bergenn in the hospital, then returned home.

“Come on, Jordan. Donaldson. The reporter you roughed up in my office.”

“You mean that punk who pissed all over himself, you mean that guy?”

Sternlich had been leaning forward. Now he collapsed back into the soft cushions. “I give up, I really do.”

“Yes,” Sandor finally admitted. “I got what I wanted from the little prick.”

“The exchange for your two men.”

“Correct.”

“I’m listening.”

“There was a girl,” Sandor said.

Sternlich laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

“Preston Sturges said, ‘There’s always a girl,’ remember that line?”

“
Sullivan’s Travels.
”

“Top grades. Go on.”

“She was the reason I got out of North Korea. They wanted her back with Hwang in the trade. We couldn’t let Jimmy and Craig rot over there, and I knew State would give her up if they had to. So I needed to make it impossible for Kim and company to demand her as part of the deal. Once I told your little Jimmy Olsen I was angry about his articles and I let it slip about our two men there and Hwang here, I knew he would print it. He’s just that sort of scumbag. What he didn’t understand was how much he helped me. At that point Kim was screwed. What was the Great Leader going to say once the story was in the media? Was he going to admit that he wanted to get some young woman back so she could be raped, tortured, and murdered?”

“Very smooth.”

“And he wasn’t going to risk being exposed as part of the plot down south, not after the exchange was made public.”

“Risky play.”

Sandor took another gulp of whiskey. “It was just a shot, there was no guarantee it would work.”

“And if it hadn’t?”

Sandor stared ahead for a moment. “I’ve never left a man behind, and I wasn’t going to start now.” He shrugged. “I would have thought of something.”

“And the girl?”

Sandor grinned. “We’re having dinner tonight.” The smile quickly faded. “Sort of a farewell. We’re going to give her a new identity, a new place to live. You know the routine.” He picked up his glass and took another swallow of the Jack Daniel’s. “Someday I hope we can put her back together with her family.” He put the glass down. “Quite an extraordinary young woman.”

“I guess I should be sorry I never got to meet her.”

Sandor nodded but said nothing.

“How did the exchange go?”

“It went all right.” Sandor laughed. “I had Hwang dressed up in one of those ridiculous suits Kim Jong-Il wears. Looked just like him, actually. When we had him brought in I thought the jerk from North Korea was going to faint.”

Sternlich shook his head. “So how are your guys?”

“Jim’s okay, he’ll be back chasing the skirts in no time. Craig’s on the DL for a while. But Kurt is dead, I haven’t forgotten that.”

They sat quietly for a minute, then Sternlich asked, “What really happened down there, in Louisiana?”

Sandor turned to his friend and fixed him with that serious look that had frightened many adversaries who had crossed his path. “Is this between you and me or is this for publication?”

“Come on, you know our ground rules. Strictly you and me.”

Sandor didn’t say anything.

“Was it a nuclear threat?”

“Why do you say that?”

“I know how you operate. You weren’t chasing down a couple of sticks of dynamite. And everyone in the government seemed too relieved, even though you lost those men outside Baton Rouge.”

Sandor nodded. “Yeah, we were chasing down a hot one.”

“Who was behind it? Was Al Qaeda in league with Kim?”

“Not this time. It was Chavez. You remember his Richelieu, name of Rafael Cabello?”

“Calls himself Adina?”

“And high marks to you, sir.”

“He was behind it?”

“Appears so. Which means he and I have some unfinished business.”

Sternlich let that sit for a moment, then asked, “What about the Jaber defection? Wasn’t the IRGC involved?”

“Apparently not. We’re still trying to piece that together, but it looks like it was Adina’s show and Jaber just got in the way. A lot of good people went down, and that Venezuelan sonuvabitch never even showed his face. Someday he will, though, and when he does, I’ll be there to—”

Sternlich held up his hand. “I get the idea,” he said, shaking his head slowly. “So now it’s Chavez. And the North Koreans. When does all this end?”

Sandor put down his glass and looked at his friend. “You know, Billy, I was asking myself the same question just the other day as I stood there and watched those people die on the Mississippi.”

“You come up with an answer?”

Sandor stared ahead without speaking. “No,” he finally said, “but I wish I could, I truly wish I could.” Then he lifted his glass and took a sip. “Until I do, though, I promise you—I’ll be on duty.”

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

As I created this novel, I did my best to ensure authenticity with regard to locales, weaponry, and technology, as well as the inner workings of the military and the government departments described. With that goal in mind, I imposed upon many friends and associates for their advice and expertise, a list of generous people far too numerous to name. I trust that each of them knows the importance of their help.

I must nevertheless single out a few individuals for their contributions:

Rick Kutka is an armaments expert, as tough as his subject matter, who does not allow a shot to be fired, a helicopter to be boarded, or an explosive device to be detonated in any of my stories without first verifying the accuracy of the event and the equipment.

Michael S. Krause, USNA Class of 1963, CDR USNR, is not only a great friend but he is also the real deal when it comes to American service and heroism. His assistance was invaluable in describing naval operations, vessels and procedures. He also allowed me to use his name in the story, and it will not be the last time Jordan Sandor and I are going to call on him for help.

Captain Nicholas J. Lewis has been as close to me as any brother could have been for my entire life. He furnished information on ships, boats and marine practices that have been essential in taking the reader on this journey.

Thanks to my son Trevor for the creative ideas he contributed to the path of this novel.

And finally, my gratitude to a patriot who lives in the shadows, protecting this great country and our way of life without public appreciation or fanfare, without the world at large knowing, who asks for nothing more than the certainty that his work makes the sort of difference that it does.

Special thanks to my editor Kevin Smith for his fine work and support; my agent Robert Diforio for his never-say-die determination; the group at Simon & Schuster led by Louise Burke and Anthony Ziccardi for their faith; my son Graham for his encouragement; and my wife, Nancy, for her insight, honesty, and almost mystical patience in reading draft after draft of my work.

God bless you all, and God bless America.