Kara’s boarding flight was called and her stomach did a little flip-flop. She considered taking another pill but quickly dismissed the thought. There was a difference between mellow and comatose, and her mission was far from over.
Kara casually checked her periphery and noted that the man was gone. No longer at the café. No longer hovering where he could be seen. That didn’t mean that he wasn’t still around. She knew he was. Hiding behind a pole. Gone to the bathroom. Watching her from a distance. She guessed he would probably be on her plane, having had plenty of time to purchase a ticket for the flight that was only three-fourths full.
First class was announced and boarded, even before the handicapped people. Wasn’t Russia wonderful.
Kara had already checked her bag that contained one million phone chargers. If any of the security officials would have asked what one million phone chargers were doing in her luggage, she had a business card that indicated she was a reseller for an electronics supply company that specialized in iPhone accessories. These wonderful units would function seamlessly in any country and on any electrical grid. The name of the company on her business card, if she recalled correctly, was something like One Million Phone Chargers. Of course there weren’t a million of them in her bag, but who cared about the specifics.
Other than her checked bag, she had nothing to carry on but her ticket, a small purse and her cell phone. Kara stood up from her chair and without glancing around; she walked over to the boarding gate and handed her ticket to the lady. Kara then got in line and walked down the cramped jetbridge.
The Airbus A330 was a medium long-range wide-body jet. It could accommodate three-hundred and thirty-five passengers in a two-class layout. First class had several rows with single twenty-seven-inch-wide seats positioned by the windows. In the middle part of the plane, the first class seats were separated by something that looked like two padded ice chests.
Kara checked her ticket and confirmed her seat assignment. Second row in First Class. She seated herself on the right side of the plane. Kara picked up whatever magazine was in the cubby under her arm rest. She then flipped to the middle of the magazine and pretended to be fascinated by the gadgets in the SkyMall. Glancing up to adjust her air nozzle, she watched and waited for the KGB guy to make an appearance. It took a long time. A lot of air conditioning adjustments. At one point she began to second guess herself and think for a moment that the KGB guy wasn’t going to make the flight. But then, just as the line of passengers was beginning to thin out, he rounded the bulkhead and stepped onto the plane.
He wasn’t a bad looking guy. Mid-thirties. Had a long face. Maybe a little too long. He had a prominent outty nose, but not too outty. Not hooked, but it looked like a Russian or Slavic nose of some type. He had good cheekbones and kind eyes. He was average height and had a good build. The man was carrying nothing but his phone.
Traveling light, Kara thought.
Her new friend had a two-day growth of beard, or it was one of those trying to look cool things. Kara thought the new name for it was the thin facial-hair style. It looked good on the man.
His kind eyes saw her and he immediately looked away.
Kara was used to that look. Men would look at her and try to take her all in. She would then look at them and they would shyly look away. Busted. But this man wasn’t doing the shy thing. He looked away for an entirely different reason.
It should have been a surprise when he took the seat directly behind her. But it wasn’t. He had apparently done some social networking with the ticket ladies and found out where she was sitting. The air hags had probably thought it was a sex thing, male and female attraction at its finest; the steamier side of biology, the entire animal kingdom courtship ritual unfolding right there in First Class. With all their travelers safely on the plane, the ticket ladies were probably gossiping, telling tall tales of their matchmaking, wondering if the mile-high club was in the cards for the young couple.
The jet began to spin up and a flight attendant handed Kara a glass of champagne. Kara was surprised, since she hadn’t ordered the drink. After a moment of observation, she realized that all the first class passengers were being handed a glass of champagne. It must have been one of those unexpected novelties the airline offered to make you feel as though the thousands of dollars you paid for your seat were worth it.
Kara tasted the fizzy drink. It wasn’t Cristal. That was for sure, but she downed the glass in a few gulps. It could only help to further anesthetize her from her fear of flying.
The jet was pushed back and the massive machine began its long lumbering taxi toward the runway.
Kara wanted to look behind her to see what the man was doing, but that would have been a bad idea. After all, the four options were still in play; lose him, confront him, kill him, or she could choose the option that required no effort whatsoever, ignore him. She picked number four again.
The engines roared and all of the passengers were all pressed back into their seats. The passengers in the rear of the plane were pressed into worn out sixteen-inch wide seats. Kara and the lucky rich people in the front of the plane were pressed back into new wide seats with silk pillows. After more noise and more mysterious mechanical sounds that planes make, the engines calmed down and the plane leveled off. Kara began to breathe again.
Emerging from the narrow space between the window and her seat, she was startled when a hand appeared. Her reflex action was to reach down, bend it backwards and snap it at the wrist. But she didn’t. Instead, she watched the hand come to a rest at her side, then open and sit there unmoving, palm up. She saw an iPhone resting in the hand.
Kara looked at the hand for a moment and then looked around to see if anyone was watching her. Seeing no one, she removed the cell phone from the hand and replaced it with Kornev’s imaged iPhone. The hand then closed around the cell phone and withdrew, disappearing back behind her.
A disembodied voice whispered to her.
“Great job, Kara.”
Then a pause.
“Or should I say Tonya?”
She turned her head to the right and spoke softly out of the side of her mouth.
“Call me whatever you want, Jack,” she whispered into the space between the window and her seat. “Just don’t call me late for dinner.”
She added in a whisper, “I’m going to get some sleep. Watch our backs.”
“You got it,” the voice said. “See you back at the office.”
Kara said nothing. She reclined her big wide comfortable seat back as far as it would go and did her best to relax. The drugs did their thing and she fell asleep before the flight attendant could bring her a refill of the crappy champagne.
Celebes Sea ― on the cargo ship Hail Nucleus
The computer in Hail’s stateroom spun up his email program.
The screen was bright in the dark room and it took a minute for Hail’s eyes to adjust.
Hail sat in front of the PC and took a moment to compose his thoughts. It had been years since he had corresponded with his friend. Their last meeting had been sad and dispiriting.
Hail placed his hands on the keyboard and began to type.
To: TrevorRogers@fbi.gov
Hi Trev, I hope you have been doing well. I am writing to inform you of the demise of the Minister of the People’s Armed Forces of North Korea, Kim Yong Chang. Under my direction, his life was terminated as of about ten minutes ago. Attached is the footage of his final minutes on this earth. I am sure that your sources or your CIA counterpart sources will be able to confirm this information. The FBI website has offered a reward of twenty-five million for his termination. I am officially requesting payment of this reward. You can make the check out to Hail Industries and send it to my main office. Please address it to me. Unrelated, I can’t tell you how much it meant to me that you showed up at the funeral. I’m sorry I was such a mess. I would like to say that I am doing better now, but I would be lying. I miss seeing you. I am very proud of you and your new job as the Director of the FBI. You deserved it, my friend. Your Dad would be beaming proud as well.