“Doc, if we don’t get some information from this guy right now, there might not be any hospitals left an hour from now.” He then snapped angrily, “Now, answer the damn question!”
Reed was visibly startled at hearing Brodie barking at him angrily. Despite his reputation, Kristen knew the captain seldom raised his voice. “Yes, sir. But I might have to wake him up some.”
Brodie then turned toward Kristen. She could feel him looking at her as she hung her head, looking at the deck between her feet. She was still wearing the oversized SEAL work boots they’d given her.
“Wake him up then,” Brodie ordered Reed and then sat down in the seat beside Kristen, his face hard and uncompromising. “Lieutenant?” he said, trying to force a calmness into his voice that he clearly didn’t feel.
Kristen raised her head and looked at him. She instantly felt totally defenseless before him. His grey eyes pierced every emotional defense she had left. It felt like he was peering into her soul. She didn’t want to talk to him or anyone. She just wanted to retreat within herself and begin repairing her damaged psyche. But they were all still in danger, and he needed her. She swallowed hard and once more forced calmness she didn’t feel over her. “Yes, sir?”
“Lieutenant, I know you’ve been through a lot,” he began calmly. “But I need you to translate for me as I ask the doctor some very important questions.”
Charles Horner appeared in the doorway, a digital recording device in one hand and a microphone in the other. Brodie directed him silently to a corner, and then Graves slipped in and stood inside the door. Graves’ and Brodie’s eyes made brief contact and Graves shook his head at the unasked question Kristen saw in Brodie’s eyes.
Kristen looked at him. She could see the strain peering through the hard mask he was trying to keep in place. His grey eyes had been deadly serious and even dangerous as he’d confronted Hamilton. But they were softer now, almost warm as he looked back at her. She had never imagined such fatigue. She’d always been physically active and normally able to outlast virtually anyone in sheer endurance. But she’d never been so utterly exhausted, both physically and mentally, and she wasn’t certain she had the mental capacity remaining to translate. But, as she looked at him, she knew she could deny him nothing.
She nodded and stood on shaky legs. Her right hand was trembling and Brodie gently took her elbow and led her to the table. Kristen gripped the edge of the table to steady herself.
Brodie nodded toward Reed. “Wake him up, Doc.”
Kristen looked up at Brodie and noticed the folded messages in his left breast pocket. They were distinctly colored. She then saw that Horner had beads of sweat on his face, his coveralls were soaked through under his arms, and he was clearly worried. Despite her exhaustion, she began to get an inkling about why Brodie was determined to question Choi.
“Sir?”
“Yes?”
“Have we received an EAM?”
He gave her a grim nod in reply.
“Dear God,” she whispered, wondering how much worse it might get.
“Lieutenant, I need you to do one more thing for me as you translate,” he asked.
“Yes, sir?” Kristen rubbed her throbbing temple as she leaned against the table, feeling a bit lightheaded.
“I need you to tell me if he’s telling the truth.”
She looked at him as if it was some kind of cruel joke. She could barely remember her own name at the moment, and he was asking her to not only translate, but to be a lie detector as well. “I don’t know if I can do that, Captain.” she replied, realizing the gravity of the situation, but feeling she had to be honest and not just tell him what he wanted to hear.
“Do your best, Lieutenant.” He patted her hand with what she wanted to believe was tenderness. “It’s always been more than good enough.”
Choi’s eyes fluttered open. Upon seeing Kristen leaning over him, the Korean smiled. His eyes rested on her for a few seconds, then looked at Brodie. Kristen heard the steady chirping of Choi’s heart monitor change as his heart rate increased upon seeing Brodie. The aging Korean began chattering groggily to Kristen.
“What’s he saying?” Brodie asked.
“He’s says I look tired, sir.” Kristen answered honestly.
“All right, tell him I need to ask him a few questions regarding his country’s strategic rocket program. Explain to him it is of the utmost importance to the people of both our countries that he answer me quickly and honestly.”
Kristen rubbed her tired eyes. Her brain felt like mush from the jumble of languages floating around in it. She then explained to Choi what Brodie told her to say, and the man looked up at Brodie and said a few more words.
“What did he say?” Brodie asked with forced patience in his voice.
“He wants to know who you are.”
“Tell him.”
Choi looked back from Kristen to Brodie and began chattering again, pointing at Brodie and gripping her hand tightly.
“He says you look scary, sir.” Kristen translated, wishing she could close her eyes and wake up in a week with all of this having been a bad dream.
“He has no idea,” Brodie replied.
Kristen didn’t speak, assuming Brodie didn’t want her to translate his words.
“All right, tell him I need to ask a few questions, and I’m not going to hurt him.”
She did as ordered, and the man, whose heart rate had now gone up markedly, gave her a brief answer. “He says he doesn’t believe you, sir.” Kristen then leaned down and began talking to Choi, trying to reassure him.
“Come on,” Graves whispered anxiously.
“Whatever you’re saying to him, keep it up,” Doc Reed said as the monitor indicated Choi’s heart rate was again settling down to a less alarming rate.
Kristen continued talking to him, reassuring him that no one would hurt him. Over the past few hours she’d been with him constantly, always calm, always comforting, and he trusted her.
“Tell him I need to know the current capabilities for the Unha-3 missile,” Brodie pressed her.
Kristen translated almost automatically, doing her best to set aside everything else and turn every ounce of her intellect into getting the translations correct. Not to mention trying to determine if the answers the frightened Choi provided were truthful. She could see the fragile doctor was in no condition to answer questions. The ominous beeping coming from the heart monitor was still not reassuring her the Korean wasn’t in mortal danger. He was sweating profusely even though his skin looked pale. He again told her he couldn’t breathe.
“Can he have some more oxygen, Doc?” she asked, momentarily ignoring Brodie — a very dangerous thing given the gravity of the situation.
But Reed handed her an oxygen mask, and she placed it over Choi’s mouth and nose, holding it there as he began speaking. She immediately translated giving the rocket’s size, launch weight, maximum range, guidance capabilities, and other pertinent information. As Kristen translated, Charles Horner moved alongside the table, holding the microphone closer.
“Ask him about the ballistic nose cone on the rocket,” Brodie ordered. “We need to know if the cone is capable of carrying a payload and if it can withstand reentry.”
Kristen wiped her filthy hand across her face as Choi spoke.
“What’s he saying?” Brodie asked.
“He was thanking me for the oxygen, Captain,” she answered, doing her level best not to show her inner thoughts. It seemed obvious to her Choi was in distress and needed to rest. But they couldn’t let him. The knowledge he had could very well prevent a nuclear war.
“Ask him about the nose cone,” Brodie ordered again.
Kristen worked out the words in her head for the precise translation before speaking. Choi answered the question, looking Kristen in the eye and not glancing at Brodie. She listened and then looked back at her captain, not liking what Choi had said. “He says the nose cone is truly ballistic and can carry a payload into a low orbit, or potentially carry a warhead back through the atmosphere.”