Fires of War (5 page)

“Finish the Eagle badges no later than seven-ten,” continued Long, “then stop by the reception at the Iron Workers Union. If things run late, we can cut that. Then—”

“You don’t want to cut the Iron Workers,” said Hannigan.

“Gordon could stand on his head, and they won’t endorse him,” said Long.

“Sure, but Harry Mangjeol from Yongduro is going to be there, and he wants to say hello.”

“He wants more than that,” said the senator. “He’s going to harangue me about the nuclear disarmament treaty again. ‘South Korea get raw deal.’” Tewilliger mimicked Mangjeol’s heavily accented English.

“He and his friends are supplying the airplane to New Hampshire tomorrow,” said Hannigan. “It wouldn’t be politick to tell him to screw off.”

“No, I supposed it wouldn’t,” said Tewilliger.

Mangjeol was a first-generation Korean-American who owned an electronics factory halfway between Muncie and Daleville. Though a rich man in his own right, Mangjeol was more important politically as the representative of a number of Korean-American businessmen with deep ties to South Korea.

The Americans were always complaining that the North was getting away with something. Oddly, at least to Tewilliger, in the next breath they would say how much they hoped the peninsula would be reunified, as if getting the two Koreas back together wouldn’t require a great deal of compromise and understanding.

“McCarthy’s not budging on the disarmament agreement,” said Tewilliger. “He won’t change a word.”

“A powerful argument to Mangjeol in favor of backing you for president,” said Hannigan.

“Here we go, Senator,” said Long.

Tewilliger looked up, surprised to find that they were driving up to the senior center already.

“Mayor’s name is Sue Bayhern. Serious lightweight, but she gets eighty percent of the vote,” said Long, feeding the senator the information he’d need to navigate the reception. “The place cost six point seven million dollars; the federal grant covered all but two hundred thousand.”

“Our
grant, Jack. They’re always
our
grants,” said Tewilliger, opening the car door.

~ * ~

6

SOUTH CHUNGCHONG PROVINCE, SOUTH KOREA

Thera’s right knee threatened to buckle as she walked with the man in the lab coat toward the administration building near the gate. She wasn’t sure what the fuss was all about. She’d never gotten the tag out of her pocket.

Had they somehow figured out she was a spy?

“What’s going on?” she asked in Greek and English, but the man didn’t answer. Four guards ran from the building.

The man in the lab coat yelled at them in Korean, “She must be detained.” The men immediately began escorting them.

Thera had studied Korean for over two months, and had become proficient enough to hold uncomplicated conversations but couldn’t understand everything the man told the guards. When they reached the building, she stopped and demanded to know what was going on.

“Jal moreugesseoyo,”
she said. “I don’t understand.”

The man in the lab coat told her to go inside.

“Why?”

He pointed at her fist, where her half-smoked cigarette continued to burn.

“This?” She held up the cigarette. “This is what you’re upset about?”

“Very important law for all. No exceptions.”

“I’ll put it out. God. It’s not a big deal.”

The man in lab coat responded by slapping her across the mouth. Stunned, Thera dropped the cigarette. Once again, it took all of her willpower to respond the way the mousy secretary would: Rather than decking him she let herself be led inside, then down a hallway to a part of the building she hadn’t seen on the tour. A door was opened, and Thera was shoved inside. The man in the lab coat ordered her to strip.

“Like hell I will,” said Thera. The mousy act had its limits.

“You will do as I say,” repeated the man. He approached her with his hand out, threatening to strike.

“I am
not
taking my clothes off. I want to see the director. I want Dr. Norkelus. I was only having a cigarette.”

The man swung his hand. Thera ducked quickly out of the way. Her body poised to strike back, she yelled for Dr. Norkelus.

Thera’s speed and poise surprised the Korean. He caught hold of himself, realizing he had gone too far.

“Empty your pockets,” he told her in English.

“I want Dr. Norkelus.”

“Empty your pockets.”

“Where? There’s no table or anything.”

He said something to her in Korean that she didn’t catch, then turned and left. The others remained in the room.

“It’s just cigarettes, see?” Thera reached into her pocket and took out the pack. She showed it to the soldiers. One of the men shrugged; the others were immobile. She couldn’t tell if they spoke English or not. “I was just grabbing a smoke. Nicotine fit.”

Thera shoved her hand back into her pocket, slipping her fingers around the sensor she’d opened and trying to return it to the case. It wouldn’t quite snap together. Finally she took the pieces from her pocket, grasping them in her palm so that only the top part was visible.

One of the soldiers was watching.

“It’s just a sensor. See? Like yours?” She pointed to the somewhat larger clip-on devices on their uniform shirts. “To make sure no one’s poisoned. I have the spares. And a lighter.” She put the tag into her other hand, pushing it closed in the process. Then she took out the lighter. “See? Cigarettes. I’m addicted.”

The man smiled nervously but said nothing. Thera pulled out the rest of the tags, showing them to the men. Then she took out her pocket change and some crumpled
won
notes.

“See? Nothing. You think I have a gun?” She turned to the guard who had smiled. “You smoke, too, yes? I can’t say it in Korean. Smoke?”

“Dambae,
” said the man. “Cigarette.”

“That’s it.
Dambae.”

“No, no, no,” said the man, wagging his finger as if she were a child.

The door opened. A short, squat woman in a lab coat entered, scolding the men in Korean and telling them to leave. Then, still speaking Korean, she told Thera she was going to be searched.

Thera feigned ignorance.

“You must be searched,” said the woman in English. “Take off your coat.”

“I have cigarettes, a lighter, not even lipstick.”

“You must be searched.”

“Because I had a cigarette?”

“Cigarette smoking is forbidden inside the compound. Very dangerous. Any violation. . . this is taken very seriously. We have strict procedures. It is the country’s law, not ours.”

“I guess.”

“Please take off your coat.”

~ * ~

n hour later, Dr. Norkelus appeared with the facility director. He was carrying Thera’s belongings in a clear plastic bag. The extra radiation sensors were at the bottom, along with her cigarettes.

“I have to apologize for the way you were treated,” said Dr. Norkelus, “but smoking is forbidden. Strictly forbidden.”

“Yeah,” said Thera. She snatched back the bag.

Norkelus stiffened. She wasn’t acting like the mousy secretary, and he didn’t like that. He needed to feel superior, in charge.

“I’m sorry,” said Thera, trying to get back into character. “I was just having a cigarette. They made me strip.”

“Outrageous,” said Norkelus, his protective instincts kicking in. “The Koreans . . . they are very careful about their rules; they do not have the best attitude toward people breaking them.”

Especially when they’re women, Thera realized. She decided she wouldn’t mention the slap; it would only complicate things further.

“I’m sorry about the cigarettes. It won’t happen again.”

“Yes. That would not be good.”

~ * ~

hera left her things in the plastic bag until she got to the hotel. When her roommate Lada Rahn went to dinner, she poured everything out on the table. The fact that she wasn’t allowed to smoke inside the complex took away her easiest cover for planting the bugs. Hopefully they wouldn’t be as strict or as health conscious in North Korea.

The dummy cases were intact; it didn’t seem as if any had been opened. Thera decided she would examine them anyway. She slipped her fingernail beneath the tab of the first unit, pushing gently. The top popped off and shot across the table to the floor.

As she got up to get it, she heard her roommate putting her card key into the door. Thera scooped everything into her pocket just as the door hit against the sliding dead bolt Thera had secured to keep her out.

“Sorry, I locked it,” said Thera, going over. “I was just going to take a shower.”

The roommate was a chronic giggler and reacted with one now. Thera let her in, then retreated to the bathroom to sort things out. As she was replacing the device she’d opened, she noticed that the edge of the chip had turned red.

As had all of the others.

~ * ~

7

DAEJEON, SOUTH KOREA

Ferguson had just taken a seat at the restaurant when his satellite phone rang. He smiled at the waitress, who was handing him a menu, then took out the phone, expecting it to be Jack Corrigan, the mission coordinator back at The Cube, whose timing was impeccable when it came to interruptions. But instead he heard Thera’s hushed voice tell him that she needed to talk to him.

“Cinderella, why are you calling?” Ferguson glanced up at the waitress who was approaching with a bottle of sake.

“I need to talk to you,” repeated Thera.

“You need out?”

“I need you to meet me.”

“Where and when?”

~ * ~

wo hours later, Ferguson walked into the lobby of the Daejeon Best Western carrying a suitcase. He went up to the reservation desk and checked in as a German businessman, carefully starting his conversation with a small amount of German—nearly all he knew—before switching to a pigeon English. When the clerk took his credit card, he turned and looked around the marble-encased lobby. The balcony above was empty. Aside from the doorman, the place seemed empty, which, Ferguson hoped, it wasn’t.

The clerk returned his card and gave him a key. The room was right down the hall.

“Actually, I’d like something on an upper floor. Above,” added Ferguson. He put his thumb up.

“Above?”

“As high as you get.”

Perplexed, the clerk started to explain that he had given the gentleman one of the best rooms in the hotel.

“It’s not the best if it’s not what I want,” said Ferguson.

The clerk conceded and found him a room on the twenty-third floor. Ferguson thanked him very much, assured him that he could carry his own bag, and headed for the elevator. The car arrived instantly and began to glide upward.