Benjamin shook his head. “If I were you, I’d quit while I was ahead and didn’t know any more than I did.”
“I see.” Sykes nodded. “It’s a bit late for that, sunshine. We had orders to kill Smirnoff. Clean up any trails, so to speak. So just who are we working for?”
“Listen, you definitely don’t want to go there.”
The barrel of Sykes’s battle rifle jabbed into Benjamin’s stomach. “Let’s get one thing clear here.” The Marine leaned forward until his nose was almost touching Benjamin’s. “I really hate surprises. We had a look at what was in the crates earlier. Three nuclear warheads was a very bad shock.” The snap of the safety coming off was loud. “Made me all nervous. How about you? You hate surprises my American friend?” He stabbed the barrel further into Benjamin. “We’ve done a few jobs for your boss and he’s never had us take care of the delivery boys before. This makes me think he doesn’t want anything leading back to him. Does that worry you? Because it fucking worries me. Moving drugs about is one thing but this? This is a very dangerous cargo, there’s all sorts of bad shit tied up to these things. If he’s selling them to the Hadjis? Well I might not be in her Majesty’s armed forces anymore but I’d have a hard time handing these things over to a bunch of radical Islamic nutters so my mates could get vaporized.”
Benjamin felt like he had swallowed a bowling ball. “Verkatt’s never sold to the Arabs.”
“You sure about that?”
“Yeah, pretty sure. Look, all I know is this is a special delivery. A real rush job, that’s it. It’s as much as I know. Honest.”
Sean pushed the pilot back. “It doesn’t bother you flying with those things on board?”
“They ride on a rocket all plugged in ready to go, why should I worry about them lying unplugged in a crate?”
Sykes had to admit, he hadn’t thought about that. “And you’re not worried Verkatt will try to kill us once he has his hands on the warheads?”
“Sure, I’m worried.” Benjamin shrugged. “But what do you want me to do? I figured I’d cross that bridge when I got to it.”
“You’re pretty trusting for a merc.”
Sweat rolled down Benjamin’s face. Fatigue flickered under the surface of his skin. “What do you want me to say? He’s paid my way for the last five years and he’s never fucked me over like the guys in the Company ever did. I can’t see him throwing me away just like that.”
Sykes snorted in disbelief. “You believe what you want.” He tapped the barrel of his rifle. “Myself, I like an ounce of prevention.” Sykes stepped back. “Sweet dreams, mate.”
Benjamin watched Sykes pull himself up into the DC3 through the rear door. He waited till the Brit was out of sight before he leaned against the side of the DC-3 with a body that suddenly felt heavy as lead.
CIA SAFE HOUSE, WASHINGTON, DC
Aidan Forest stared at Chun through the one-way glass. The glass was so cliché, even Hollywood had abandoned it. The Korean defector sat, staring at the smoke curling through his fingers. Chun looked up at Aidan through the mirror. There was no way the Korean could see him and the room was soundproofed, so he could not have heard him. The Special Case Officer found Chun’s steady gaze through the glass unnerving.
Forest opened the door and entered the smoky room. Being chosen to debrief one of the most important defectors in CIA history was a daunting task. Forest’s Doctorate in Far East studies, three well-received books on North Korea, his fluency in the language and his close ties to the CIA, had made him the most obvious choice for the job.
The safe house, located in one of the poorer sections of DC, was small and dingy. Chun’s presence here showed the borders of North Korea, physical and political, had become very closed indeed. Forest placed his briefcase on the desk and sat down.
First came the pleasantries. “Good morning, Comrade Kyun.”
Chun’s eyes narrowed at Forest’s form of address in his native language, but he did not look up. “Mister?”
“Forest.”
“Mr. Forest,” Chun took a long drag on his cigarette. “You are not now, nor will you ever be, my comrade.” He exhaled the smoke through his nose and mouth in a heavy sigh.
For that split second, Forest saw the strain Chun was under. The professor struggled not to cough, but the blue cloud of Chun’s smoke stung his eyes and made them water. Forest decided to go with the strictly business approach. “Fine, then we can leave the introductions as being dealt with.”
“As you wish.”
Forest opened his briefcase and extracted a tape recorder. A redundant move; the room was already bugged, but Forest was old-fashioned and sometimes the tape machine could pick out nuances of speech that the bugs missed. The record and play buttons were depressed on his old machine and the microphone set in front of Chun. Forest reeled off Chun’s name and former status for the benefit of both the room’s and his own recording.
“Why don’t we start at the beginning?” Forest said.
“No.” The word spoken in English hung in the air between them.
It was obvious Chun was going to assume the control position in this debrief. Unless Forest won him over quickly, hostility to his adopted hosts would downgrade the usefulness of the man’s observations. World political events could degrade as quickly as the value of the information Chun possessed inside his head.
Forest answered in Korean. “Pardon?”
Chun, dark eyes burning, glared at Forest. “Are you deaf as well as stupid? No. It is the first English word every Korean learns. It is denial. You have the plans. They are self-explanatory. As a gift to save my life, they are yours, but I will not give you a so-called chapter and verse account of my country or even my own involvement in any covert or official operations. I was promised a new identity and obscurity in your country. It is time to give me my new life,” Chun snorted in contempt, “in your American dream.”
Forest was little more than a hermit crab to Chun. At the first sign of trouble, into his shell he would go. The Korean did not expect the reaction he received. Forest started to laugh, deep body-shaking guffaws. Chun felt his anger building at this new humiliation foisted upon him.
Forest dabbed the tears from his eyes. “Please, do not do that again. It is quite painful.”
Chun sat in burning silence.
Forest had studied in depth Sun Tzu’s “Art of War.” Master Tsun had discussed the use of the unorthodox at great length in the chapter, “Emptiness and Fullness.”
“Mr. Kyun, the plans you have supplied us notwithstanding, you yourself know the importance of up-to-the-minute intelligence data. Do you think because of the plans, you have provided us, your place in our country is secured? They could be complete fabrication. Disinformation on a massive scale. How would we ever confirm their accuracy?” Forest leveled his gaze at Chun. “You are a wanted man without a country. Only the United States can offer you the anonymity that you so desire, but our American dream still lies just outside your grasp. Unless of course you can convince us of your worth.”
Chun’s face turned ashen. “You government bastards are the same the world over. Promises in one hand; a dagger in the other.”
“Maybe so, but all the same, here we are and my superiors have questions. You see, I have studied your country and its history in great depth. I find that your people have great strengths and long suffering tolerance. It is unfortunate that the West is so unobservant. We can continue in Korean but it would be easier for the transcripts if we switched to English.”
The last five minutes were forcing Chun to change his first impression of the thin, owlish Forest sitting before him. He obviously possessed great intellect. Chun would have to watch every word said. “As you wish, if this is to be my new home, then I must polish my skills in your language.”