"Captain, you do realize I would have to take something like this all the way to the top of the Ministry? I'd need a case as solid as this desk before I dared do that." He paused to light another Turtle Ship, using the break to make a final consideration of the possible consequences if he should kill the investigation now and then be proven wrong by yet another murder. "All right. I'll give you thirty days to come up with enough evidence to convince me, and the Minister of Justice. Otherwise, I'll take steps to see that you're replaced on these cases. Understand?"
After supper that evening, Captain Yun retreated to the small room in his home that served as an office and sanctuary, away from the abominable talking box his wife was addicted to, soap operas providing the major fare on Korean TV. He sat down and began to consider what he had learned about the elusive suspect called Hwang Sang-sol. Momentarily, he wondered about the reasons behind Hwang's travels from Seoul to Beijing two days before the bombing that had ended the dictatorial rule of Kim Il-sung. Yun had no reason to suspect any connection between Hwang's itinerary and the event in Pyongyang. Still, he couldn't help but wonder.
Chapter 9
Autumn had begun to work its colorful magic in Northern Virginia by the time Burke and Lori arrived back home. Their house sat on two acres at the edge of a hardwood forest, and the view from the wall of windows in their den was nothing short of spectacular. The kaleidoscope of color made Burke feel as though he were back in the mountains
The expanding bulge of the twins had become a bit too burdensome for Lori to join him, but he was out early most mornings. Dressed in sweat shirt, jeans and Rockports, he walked at a rapid pace through the quiet neighborhood that was just beginning to stir. Though he had put in quite a bit of vacation time traipsing through Budapest, that had been stop-and-go walking, not the exercise variety. It didn't give the same effect as a solid thirty minutes at a fast clip.
The air was cool on his face, the sun just peeping over the treetops. The smell of wood smoke from half a dozen chimneys triggered fond memories of his old cabin in the Smokies. He had almost completed the circle back home, his breath coming in deep drags, when he heard someone call his name.
"Hey, Burke!" It was Will Arnold, heading up his driveway after the morning paper.
Burke glanced at his watch. It was time to stop anyway. He strode over to pick up the newspaper and tossed it to Will as he approached.
"Morning, neighbor," Burke said. "I trust you're fully recovered from your venture to Hungary."
"I've all but forgotten it. Been busy as hell helping put together a bid on a new Air Force project. I had some geniuses in from a lab at MIT offering advice."
The mention of the laboratory triggered something in Burke's brain. "What do you know about hackers, Will?"
"They can be quite an annoyance. They can break in and mess around with your data, or plant viruses. You're not having hacker problems are you?"
Burke shook his head. "No. I just heard some talk about them. One in particular called the 'Hanover Hacker.' I figured a computer genius like you would know all about it."
"Oh, the Hanover character. He was a sharpie. Got himself into a lot of trouble with the German government. We had a notorious case over here two or three years ago. A hacker, college student I believe, fed a virus into a network. It screwed up two thousand computers, university, industrial, military. Turned out his father was a computer security expert at the National Security Agency." Will stopped and slapped the newspaper against the palm of his hand. "Say, that reminds me, I've got a copy of an item that was on an electronic bulletin board a few months back. A guy out in California was looking for expert hackers to interview. Said he was writing a book. He offered to guarantee their anonymity. As you might expect, most of those guys aren't too interested in publicity."
"I probably wouldn't understand what they were talking about," Burke said. "But it sounded like a fascinating subject."
"I'll save that EBB item for you. I know it had the guy's address. Seems like it included his name also. If you're really interested, you might drop him a note about his book. It should be finished by now."
Burke didn't tell Will but he wasn't all that interested. He thanked him and headed on back to the house for breakfast. When he got to the bedroom, he found Lori lying in bed, awake but showing no inclination to venture beyond the covers.
He leaned down and kissed her. "Time to rise, sunshine. It's back to work we go, ho ho, ho ho."
She grimaced. "You'll never pass for a dwarf, my dear. And it isn't back to work for me, anyway. I have an appointment with Dr. Chloe. Remember? She wants to be sure I didn't abuse myself or our wee ones during the trip to Hungary."
"I thought it was tomorrow. Does that mean I'm breakfasting alone?"
Slowly, she swung her legs over the side of the bed. "Perish the thought. That sounds like some kind of quote from the Bible. 'Man cannot live by breakfasting alone.'"
Burke shook his head. "The lady's sharp this morning. After you finish with the godmother, call and let me know what she says."
He had great faith in Dr. Chloe Brackin. She was not only Lori's physician, but her best friend. Chloe and her husband, Walt, a neurologist, were a tall, handsome black couple who lived in another area of Falls Church. Chloe's specialty was gynecology. The cost of liability insurance had kept her out of the baby business when she first went into practice. Now that she was established, she still took only a few select obstetrical patients. With Lori, Chloe referred to herself as "the godmother."
Evelyn Tilson was a luxury Burke had not known prior to his affiliation with Worldwide, an assistant. More precisely, an executive assistant. A divorcee in her mid-forties, she was a sharp-witted, and at times sharp-tongued, blonde who served as secretary, scheduler, grammarian, counselor, alter ego and, when she deemed it necessary, conscience. She was even willing to make coffee. He was not always fully prepared for some of the services provided, but he rarely found her counsel faulty. She had put in a dozen years at Langley before resigning as secretary to a division chief she found impossible to tolerate. Burke found her invaluable for her knowledge of the inner workings of the intelligence establishment.
Evelyn's frown threw up a caution flag as he entered her office. "I have no 'need to know' what you called the Chief about from Berlin, oh Great One, but you apparently stirred up one devil of a hornet's nest."
Burke rumpled his brow. "What's happened?"
"Toni tells me Mr. Highsmith has been wearing out the scrambler to Langley. And he's had an unusual number of those hush-hush, supposedly casual meetings at his club with who knows whom."
Nate used the Federal Club, an exclusive private club in downtown Washington, for occasional meetings with the DCI, among others. Burke glared at her. "If you know all this, who the hell else does? Sounds like a security leak to me."
"Come on, Mr. Hill," she said, pursing her lips. "Only I am privvy to those secrets, which I purloined for your benefit."
He held up a hand in surrender and headed through the door to his office. "I stand corrected, Evelyn. How about some coffee?"