"We would like to see President Kwak," Burke advised. "Please tell him we want to talk to him about Lee Horangi-chelmun. I think he'll want to see us."
One of the security men glanced at the other with a "who-are-these-nuts" look on his face. Burke understood. Their job no doubt brought them in contact with all kinds of kooks and weirdos. A decently dressed American and a Seoul police officer talking about a "Young Tiger Lee" probably ranked high on the list.
Burke watched as the guard spoke on the telephone, then returned with a puzzled look on his face.
"They're sending someone to escort you to the president's office," he said in obvious disbelief.
Burke smiled inwardly, but only until the escorts arrived. They were two gun-toting, uniformed security men, neither of whom appeared capable of reciprocating a smile. It didn't strike him as a favorable sign. The Lieutenant was told to check his service pistol at the guard post and it would be returned when he left. Burke's briefcase was checked and run through a metal detector.
They were led to a reception room where they were told President Kwak would see them shortly. As they sat beneath the watchful stares of the uniformed contingent, Burke turned to Lieutenant Yun.
"Do you think this is the usual treatment for Blue House guests?"
Yun Se-jin shrugged. "I've never been here before. But apparently they're taking no chances in the current political climate."
Burke looked around. There was reading material on a table, but it was all in Korean. He clutched the briefcase in his lap and waited, glancing frequently at his watch. Had they allowed enough time? The editor had indicated that he possessed a certain amount of discretion in delaying the deadline, but there was a limit, of course.
He wondered if Kwak was really that busy or if they were merely being put on ice to show that he wasn't being intimidated. Whatever, it seemed an endless wait until they were ushered into the president's large office. Kwak Sung-kyo stood behind his desk, his stooped shoulders and sharp beak of a nose giving him somewhat the look of a gray-maned buzzard. Seated at one side of the desk was a white-haired man Burke recognized from photographs. The man appeared to stare with some odd fascination at the bandages that covered the stitches on Burke's forehead and neck.
"My name is Burke Hill, Mr. President," he said by way of introduction. "I am controller and chief financial officer of Worldwide Communications Consultants, which is headquartered in Washington, D.C. My colleague here is Lieutenant Yun Se-jin of the Seoul Metropolitan Police Bureau."
His face solemn, Kwak nodded, and in much better English than Burke had expected, recognized the man at his side. "This is Colonel Han Sun-shin, one of my closest advisors and director of the Agency for National Security Planning. Please be seated, gentlemen. I'm told you wish to speak with me about a Lee Horangi-chelmun. It sounds like a rather fanciful name. I must warn you I have a heavy schedule this morning. I can give you only a few minutes. What is this all about, and what does it have to do with the Lieutenant?"
"Lieutenant Yun's father was Captain Yun Yu-sop, who was killed by a hit-and-run driver in Pyongyang during the talks two weeks ago," Burke said.
The president gave the young officer a condescending look. "I regretted to hear of your father's death. I'm sure you understood the necessity for playing down the circumstances."
"We understood them much better," Burke said, "after considering what Captain Yun learned from one of your old Northeast Anti-Japanese United Army comrades in Pyongyang. His name was Chung Woo-keun."
"My old comrades?" said Kwak, a hint of anger in his voice.
"Yes, sir. Ahn Wi-jong confirmed it when I spoke with him in Chiangmai last weekend. He told me all about the Poksu band and your role as its leader."
Kwak obviously realized there was no use in further denial. He gave an indifferent shrug. "So you know about my wartime activities. Then you know I have been falsely accused of working for the Japanese. I kept my Manchurian service secret at first to prevent charges of cooperating with communists. My sole purpose was always to fight the invaders."
Burke opened his briefcase and took out the Koryo Ilbo envelope. "I have no quarrel with your wartime service. I'm concerned with your more recent use of the Poksu symbol and use of the name in Operation Pok Su.'
"You're speaking of things I know nothing about," said Kwak.
"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid you do, Mr. President." He looked around at Colonel Han. "And your good friend, the Colonel, personally orchestrated the murders of several prominent Koreans, including Lieutenant Yun's father and your own half-sister's son-in-law, Yi In-wha."
Colonel Han's green eyes turned to chunks of jade. "Such false accusations will land you in jail in this country, Mr. Hill," he said.
Burke took a cassette tape out of his briefcase. "If you're wondering about my bandages, Colonel, they cover cuts made last night by your hired assassin, Hwang Sang-sol. While he had the upper hand, he told me what he had done for you. What he didn't know was I had a tape recorder running in my coat pocket. I wouldn't be here today if the Lieutenant hadn't come along and saved me."
"I think we've heard enough." Colonel Han looked around at the president.
"On the contrary, Colonel," said Kwak, "I'd like to hear what else these gentlemen think they know. I'm not unfamiliar with your activities, Mr. Hill. I understand you and your people have been trying to stir up trouble for us with some dissidents around Kyongju."
"More properly around Reijeo's Chuwangsan Plant, Mr. President. And the nuclear power station at Kanggu. We know you're planning to test an atomic weapon on New Year's Day. We know the work that's been going on at the Chuwangsan Plant for the past several years, and about Israel's help under the secret nuclear agreement."
"Some bastard has been talking too damned much," said Colonel Han. "I told you Yi wouldn't be the last."
Burke lifted an eyebrow. "Yi In-wha?"
"Yes, Mr. Hill," said President Kwak. "I regretted the necessity of eliminating my half-sister's son-in-law, but he threatened me. During my tenure with Reijeo, I had encouraged establishment of Operation Pok Su. Yes, I chose the name. Ironic, don't you think? When Yi became head of his division, he got too eager to know what others were doing. He learned about the work at Chuwangsan. He didn't understand the Republic's need for a nuclear arsenal. He was too international minded, you might say. He threatened to reveal the operation unless I called it off. When I learned he had made an appointment to meet with your Ambassador Shearing, I knew it was time to act."
"So Colonel Han called in Hwang to do the job," Burke said, nodding. "I hate to have to inform you that he won't be available anymore, Colonel."
The NSP director sat stiffly in his chair, hatred in his eyes. "The same may be said of you, Mr. Hill."
Burke ignored the remark. "What puzzles me, Mr. President, is why you stirred up all this pro-Japanese speculation, when it appears you have every reason to hate them?"
Kwak's partially paralyzed face relaxed into what passed for a smile. "It's too bad you won't be around to see my plan played out, Mr. Hill. After we shock the world with a successful missile and nuclear warhead test, I shall present the Japanese prime minister with an ultimatum. It will be the reverse of what they did to us early in the century with their Twenty-One Demands. Japan will become a protectorate of Korea. We will control their foreign relations, their police and justice system. We will merge their economy with ours and become the superpower of the East. With our nuclear weapons arsenal, no one, not even your vaunted United States of America, will dare to challenge us."
For a moment, Burke sat in stunned silence. It was the President and Nathaniel Highsmith's nightmare scenario, but with a different twist. Korea, not Japan, would be the transgressor.