The Target (28 page)

I
T WAS A DILAPIDATED GOVERNMENT
building. The paint was cheap, the furnishings cheaper still. The bulbs overhead dimmed and brightened as the shaky electricity made its way through the corroded lines like blood through clogged arteries. The smell was sweat mixed with cigarettes. The packs of cigarettes available here carried the typical skulls and crossbones on them, but apparently no one in North Korea cared. They smoked. They died. What did it matter?

Chung-Cha stopped at the door indicated to her by one of the men who had come for her. The door was opened and she was ushered in. Then the two young men left her. She could hear their polished shoes tapping down the faded linoleum.

She turned to face the people in the room. There were three of them. Two men and one woman. The black tunic was one of the men. The general who had been Pak’s good friend was the other man. The woman looked familiar to Chung-Cha. She blinked rapidly when she remembered her.

“It has been a long time, Yie Chung-Cha,” she said, rising from her seat. Her hair was white now instead of black. And her face was creased with age and worry. But it
had
been many years. Time did that to all. There was no escaping it.

Chung-Cha did not answer her. All she could think of was the woman’s screaming at her all those years ago at Yodok.

You will stick this knife inside the red circle. You will then pull it out and stick it back in
…
Do it now, or you will die here as an old woman.

The woman resumed her seat and smiled at Chung-Cha. “My predictions of your rising far certainly came true. I can always tell. It was in your eyes, Chung-Cha. The eyes never lie. I saw that clearly enough at Yodok that day.” She paused. “And you follow orders. You always follow orders. The sign of a good comrade.”

Chung-Cha finally pulled her gaze from the woman and looked at the black tunic.

“You have summoned me?” she began.

“The Americans,” said the black tunic. “They have struck.”

“Struck how?” asked Chung-Cha as she took a seat directly opposite him. She did not look at the general. She did not look at the woman. She would not give either the satisfaction. She knew the black tunic was the de facto leader of this group. Her attention and perceived respect would flow only to him and to hell with the others.

“General Pak’s adopted son and daughter, Pak Du-Ho and Pak Eun Sun, have escaped from Bukchang. They have done so with the help of the Americans.”

“A man and a woman,” added the general.

The black tunic added, “It may be the same pair that was sent to kill General Pak in France. But we cannot be sure. We are attempting to obtain a positive identification.”

“Does it matter?” said the woman. “The Americans have legions of agents who do their evil bidding. The fact is, they came onto North Korean soil. They invaded this country and took from it two of our prisoners.”

The general nodded. “Yes, Rim Yun is right. They are barbarians. They killed many North Koreans. It is an act of war.”

“So we are going to war with the Americans?” asked Chung-Cha. Now she looked at all three, one at a time.

The black tunic said hesitantly, “Not precisely. They may want us to be so foolish. But we will counterattack in our way. In the way we had planned all along, Comrade.”

“The American president’s family?” said Chung-Cha.

Rim Yun said, “That is correct. We will kill them.
You
will kill them, Chung-Cha. Can you imagine the glory that the Supreme Leader will bestow upon you?”

“If I am alive,” pointed out Chung-Cha.

“There is far more glory in death than in living,” barked Rim Yun.

“I appreciate that fact one thousand times,” replied Chung-Cha. “So would you like to accompany me to America where we both can share such glory after our deaths? What a wonderful thing, as you said.”

The black tunic and the general said nothing. They glanced at each other and then at Rim Yun.

“You still have the defiant heart of Yodok in you, Chung-Cha,” said Rim Yun coldly.

“I have many things from Yodok inside me. And I remember them all. Quite clearly.”

The women locked gazes for a long moment before Rim Yun finally broke off and looked away.

She said in an oddly casual tone, “The administrator of Bukchang was shot this morning along with a half dozen guards for allowing this disgraceful escape to happen. I am sure that more will be shot as time goes on.”

“I am sure that he deserved it,” said Chung-Cha.

Rim Yun shot her a glance. “You killed the former administrator of Bukchang, did you not?”

“On orders, I did. He was corrupt. An enemy of this country.”

“Did you know that he was recently replaced with the administrator from Yodok? Comrade Doh? You knew Doh, did you not? He was at Yodok when you were there, is that not so?”

Chung-Cha had to work hard to keep the smile off her lips. “Comrade Doh was executed?”

“That is what I said.”

“I am sure that he deserved it,” she said again.

Rim Yun gave her a piercing look before turning away and saying, “We waste time. Tell her what is needed.”

The black tunic said, “Our timetable has been accelerated. You will leave for America within the week.”

Chung-Cha hid the sudden panic she was feeling. “Within the week?”

“Is that a problem, Comrade?” said Rim Yun quickly.

“I have no problem serving the Supreme Leader with the sacrifice of my life.”

“Then all is good.”

“I do have a suggestion.”

“How can that be? What nonsense,” said Rim Yun dismissively.

Chung-Cha ignored her and said, “The Americans will be on the lookout for anyone who looks Asian, Korean; it does not matter. If they have our eyes, they will be suspect.”

“We have a solid background for you,” said the black tunic.

“Their scrutiny will be considerably heightened. They will be on the alert. We must be equal to the task. We must be better than they are.”

“What do you suggest?” asked the general.

“The Muslims who blow themselves up?” began Chung-Cha politely.

“We are not Muslims,” snapped Rim Yun. “We do not blow ourselves up.”

“If I may be allowed to finish?” said Chung-Cha.

Rim Yun gave her a surly look followed by a curt nod.

“The Muslims use children as cover. It lowers suspicion. The Americans are often fooled by this, because they are softhearted. They do not like to think ill of the small ones.”

Rim Yun tapped her long fingernails on the table. “Get to the point, Comrade.”

“I have a young girl, Min—”

“I heard of your visit to Yodok,” interrupted Rim Yun. “And you taking the little bitch home. I thought you must be insane to take on such a burden all by yourself. Explain to me how you are not.”

Chung-Cha gazed directly at her. “I did so with the Supreme Leader’s full knowledge and blessing. I am sure I do not interpret your words to suggest that the Supreme Leader is insane.”

Rim Yun’s face turned the color of blood and she sat up straighter, all of her casual disdain stricken clean from her. “I suggest no such thing. How dare you—”

“That is good,” said Chung-Cha, interrupting her this time. “But we waste time, so let me explain. Min will accompany me to America. She will be my younger sister, or my daughter, whichever you think best. This will provide me excellent cover to fool the Americans. After the act is done, I will leave and travel back here with Min. If I die, then Min will go back with the others who will accompany us to the evil empire that is America.”

“That is a foolish plan,” said Rim Yun as soon as Chung-Cha had stopped talking. “Taking a child with you? And one from the camps? It’s ridiculous. She would ruin everything.”

Chung-Cha said calmly, “Because she was in the camp she knows nothing of the world. She will be very easy to control.”

“Out of the question,” snapped Rim Yun.

However, the general was looking thoughtful. “I am not so sure of that,” he said. “In fact, I think it is a brilliant thought, Comrade, truly brilliant. You read the Americans just right. They are weak and sentimental. They assuredly will be fooled by the presence of the young one.”

The black tunic nodded. “I agree.”

All eyes turned to Rim Yun. She gave Chung-Cha a dark look but clearly knew she had been outmaneuvered and outvoted.

“I wish you good luck, then, Comrade Yie,” she said, though her tone contained nothing “good.”

“Whether I live or die, luck will have nothing to do with it,” replied Chung-Cha.

P
RESIDENT CASSION’S HANDSHAKE
was strong
and his face eager and filled with both happiness and gratitude.

Robie and Reel sat opposite him in the Oval Office. Across from them on a settee were Evan Tucker, Josh Potter, and Blue Man.

Cassion leaned back in his chair and surveyed them keenly.

“I have read the classified reports of your, um, adventure. I have to say it read like a thriller, only you two did it for real.”

Robie said, “We had a lot of help, sir. And if Agent Reel hadn’t called in air support for me, I would most certainly not be here today.”

Cassion nodded and said, “Du-Ho and Eun Sun are transitioning to their new lives. And Kim Sook is helping in that transition.”

“He’s a good man,” said Reel. “He did his job exceptionally well over there.”

“And my conscience is far clearer,” said Cassion. “Not that it makes up for what happened. But I have to think that General Pak would appreciate what we’ve done for his family.”

“I would think so,” said Tucker. “Without a doubt.”

Cassion shot him a stern glance and Tucker immediately looked away.

Blue Man cleared his throat and said, “We do have to be prepared for the blowback, Mr. President.”

“I understand that. It was part of my decision. I did not make it blindly.”

“Of course not, sir,” said Blue Man evenly. “But now we must address possible targets that the North Koreans will be after. As well as beefing up security and fine-tuning our surveillance networks.”

Tucker broke in before Blue Man could continue. “We have taken all of that into account. Rest assured I’m doing all that can be done to defeat any actions by the North Koreans.”

The president looked disdainfully at the CIA chief. “That makes me feel
so
much better,” he said.

The president walked with Robie and Reel out of the Oval Office.

As they looked ahead of them, Eleanor Cassion was heading toward them with their son, Tommy, in tow. His head was down and his clothes looked dirty and ruffled. His braided blazer had a tear in the sleeve. His shirttail was completely out of his pants and his school tie was askew. Behind him was a burly Secret Service agent looking very uncomfortable.

As his wife and son stopped in front of him Cassion said, “What happened?”

Eleanor said sternly, “Tommy got into a fight at school. That’s what happened.”

“A fight?” said a stunned Cassion.

Robie and Reel exchanged glances. It seemed obvious to them that the president was swiftly calculating in his head how the story would play out in the media.

Cassion bent down. “Tommy, what happened?”

Tommy shook his head stubbornly and did not speak.

Cassion straightened and looked at the agent. “What happened, Agent Palmer?”

Palmer said, “It was right at the end of class, sir. They were heading outside. A group of students. Then there was yelling and a bunch of them got into sort of a scrum. By the time I pushed my way through the students Tommy and another boy were on the ground fighting. I pulled them apart, made sure the other kid was okay, and then brought Tommy directly here, sir.”

Cassion put a hand through his hair. “What was the fight about, Tommy?”

When the boy didn’t respond Cassion put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Tommy, I asked you a question, son. And I expect an answer.”

“He called you a stupid, spineless shit,” said Tommy, still looking down.

“Language, Thomas Michael Cassion,” said Eleanor in a warning tone.

“He asked what the fight was about,” retorted Tommy. “Well, that’s what the kid called Dad and that’s why I hit him.”

Cassion cupped his son’s chin and pointed it upward. Now they could all see that Tommy also had a black eye.

“Oh, Tommy,” said Eleanor. “Fighting solves nothing. Name-calling is meaningless.”

“You weren’t there, Mom,” Tommy retorted. Then he eyed Agent Palmer. “And if you hadn’t pulled me off, I would’ve kicked his butt.”

“He was doing his job, Tommy,” said Eleanor. “Which is keeping you safe.”

“I don’t need anybody to keep me safe. I can take care of myself.”

“Tommy, that is not the point,” said Eleanor. “You could have hurt the other boy.”

“I hope I did. I hate this place! I hate it! I want to go back home.”

“Look, son,” began the president, looking around nervously. “We’ll discuss this later, in private.”

“No we won’t. You’re the president. You don’t have time for your son.”

“Tommy!” Eleanor exclaimed in a shocked tone.

“You were covering your dad’s six,” said Reel.

They all looked at her.

Tommy said, “What?”

“You were just covering your dad’s six. Watching out for him. Sons do that for their dads. Daughters do that for their moms. Kids do that for their parents. You were protecting his honor. Covering his six. That’s what we call it in my line of work.”

Tommy rubbed his swollen eye. “I guess I did. Cover-his-six thing.”

Cassion turned to Robie and Reel, obviously relieved that his son had calmed. “Tommy, these are two of the finest Americans you will ever meet. They just performed an important mission on behalf of our country. They’re real heroes.”

Tommy looked suitably impressed by this. His entire demeanor changed.

“Wow,” he said.

Robie put out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Tommy. And for what it’s worth, I got in fights at school too. But I figured something out.”

“What? Better to turn the other cheek?” Tommy said in a sarcastic tone.

“No. I never really learned to do that. I figured out that if I talked to the other guy and tried to learn where his issues were coming from then maybe I could fix things that way instead of using my fists. Whether you win or lose, getting punched in the face still hurts.”

Tommy did not look convinced by this but said, “Okay.”

“You should get some ice on that eye,” advised Reel. “It really helps with the swelling. Just in case there’s a round two.”

Tommy flashed her a smile.

“Let’s go get cleaned up, young man,” said Eleanor quickly, pivoting him around. “And this is not over. I’m sure I’ll be hearing from the school, and you’re probably going to get a detention. I know you’re getting one from me.”

She glanced at her husband and said in a low voice, “Do you still think I’m overreacting? Nantucket here we come.”

As his mother pulled him away, Tommy looked back at Robie and Reel. Robie winked at him, and Reel gave him an encouraging thumbs-up. Tommy smiled again before turning away.

Cassion said hurriedly, “Sorry about that.”

“Kids are kids, Mr. President,” said Robie. “And he has to live in the world’s biggest fishbowl. Not easy.”

“No, you’re right. It’s not easy. I doubt I could have done it when I was ten.”

Cassion walked them to the outer door of the West Wing.

“I want to personally thank you both again. I know what I asked of you was truly unfair and really an impossible mission. And still you succeeded.”

Robie said, “No problem, sir. It’s what we do.”

Cassion suddenly looked worried. “Have you any inkling what the North Koreans might do in retaliation?”

Reel said, “Unfortunately, Mr. President, we present a lot of soft targets for them. That’s the downside to a free and open society.”

The president nodded, turned, and walked back inside.

As Robie and Reel walked back to their parked vehicle, they passed a landscaping crew doing some work on a flowerbed and an adjacent bank of bushes. All but one stayed focused on their work.

This man looked up as the pair passed. He took off his cap and rubbed his brow.

This was not done because of the sweat on his face.

A group of tourists walking along the street on the other side of the fence included three men dressed in polo shirts and khaki pants. At this signal from the man inside the fence, all three started snapping photos of Robie and Reel. As the pair pulled out of a side entrance to the White House a few minutes later, this same group of tourists took photos of their license plate.

Robie and Reel drove on.