The government of the Democratic People's Republic expressed its official regret and offered sympathy to the Yun family. President Kwak's government accepted the results of the inquiry and offered its condolences to the Captain's wife and son. Neither side wanted anything to interfere with the salutary results of the bilateral conference, so the incident was downplayed and the meeting ended with congratulations from all sides.
A ROK Air Force transport was quietly dispatched to Pyongyang and returned Yun's body to Seoul without publicity. The death was covered in a small sidebar item to the main conference story in the following morning's Koryo Ilbo. According to the news report, a traffic accident in Pyongyang had claimed the life of Korean National Police Captain Yun Yu-sop, who was helping provide security for the South Korean delegation to the unification talks. No details were given on the accident.
Chapter 52
Burke glanced at the small brass calendar clipped to his wristwatch band. It was two weeks until Christmas, which was not difficult to determine with the relentless flow of carols from the hidden speaker in the elevator. He was the only passenger, not unusual for 7:30 a.m. Though it was his habit to start the day early with a morning walk, he enjoyed a leisurely breakfast, accompanied by the morning newspaper, and did not normally arrive at the office before eight. But he knew Jerry Chan's call would be coming through shortly, and he was anxious to learn if Captain Yun had returned from Pyongyang. Today's newspaper indicated the conference had wound up successfully Sunday afternoon. It was now Monday evening in Seoul.
He found the suite of executive offices strangely silent, as though it might be a holiday. Evelyn wouldn't arrive until eight. He left his briefcase on his desk and walked down the deserted corridor to Nate's office.
"Good morning, Mr. Hill." Toni Carlucci greeted him in her usual good humor. "Coffee's about ready. Shall I pour you a cup?"
"Thanks, Toni," he said. "I just finished one on my way in. Guess I'd better hold off a bit." He didn't want her to think he preferred to wait for Evelyn's coffee, though, of course, he did.
"You can go on into Mr. Highsmith's office," she told him.
Burke found Nate behind his desk with a newspaper. "Did you read about the Pyongyang conference?" Burke asked as he dropped into a chair opposite the desk.
"Sure did. Also saw where the Japanese are still eating up the news out of Seoul about the language study. Get your family home yesterday?"
"Yeah. That house has been awfully quiet the past few days. Won't be that way any longer."
Nate grinned. "I hope you savored the silence while it lasted."
"I'll have it to remember later. With Lori just getting home, though, the timing wasn't too good on this trip to California. It'll just be overnight, of course. She took it better than I expected."
"I've already had a call from Kingsley Marshall this morning," Nate said. "He's laid on a request with NSA to be on the lookout for any calls to Korea from the Korean-American Education Foundation."
Burke had discussed his idea with Marshall and General Thatcher before leaving Camp David. Recalling Dr. Vickers' nervousness at his innocent questions during their first meeting, Burke planned to stir up enough trouble that the foundation director would feel compelled to call his bosses in Korea if he was involved in something shady.
Burke's thoughts were interrupted by the distinctive electronic tone coming from Highsmith's private line. It was Jerry. Nate activated the scrambler, then said, "Burke is sitting here dying to know what you've heard. I'll put you on the speaker."
"Good morning, Burke," said Jerry's voice over the small speaker on Nate's desk. "I presume you're talking about Captain Yun. Haven't heard that first word yet. I saw in the news where the delegation was back, but didn't have time to read the whole story. If he doesn't call tomorrow, I'll try calling him."
"Okay," Burke said. "Keep me posted."
"Duane picked up a lead we're checking on. He's become a regular customer at that maggolli house across from the Reijeo headquarters. He and the PR man from over there guzzle like fraternity brothers. He told Duane this evening that they may face a difficult PR situation at the Chuwangsan Plant. He didn't volunteer any more and Duane didn't want to push him too hard."
"Any idea what it could be?" Nate asked.
"No, but I intend to talk about it with Moon Chwa, my monk friend from the Pulguksa Temple. He'll be in Seoul tomorrow with a group of Buddhists planning to pressure the government about Dr. Shin."
"They'll be lucky if Shin's still alive," Burke said with a note of skepticism.
"That's what I'm afraid of," Jerry said. "By the way, I'll be out of the office awhile in the morning. A doctor's appointment."
"A doctor? What's the problem?" Nate asked.
"I don't think it's anything important. Just wanted to ask him about this odd fluttering sensation I've been getting in my chest when I run. It doesn't affect my running ability, breathing or anything like that."
"Let me know what the doctor says. Don't take any chances, Jerry."
"Don't worry," Jerry said. "I'm the indestructible man."
It was late morning when Burke called Dr. Vickers, though in San Francisco it was still early. "This is Burke Hill with Worldwide Communications Consultants," he said in a casual tone. "I'm coming out your way and wondered if you would be available this afternoon or in the morning?"
"Nice to hear from you, Mr. Hill. I would be happy to see you whenever you'd like. I hope you have good news for me."
"We'll see," Burke said. "Incidentally, I've been studying a bit about computer hackers. I understand you're interested in the subject, too."
"Where did you hear that?" Vickers asked.
"From a friend who's a computer buff. He said you had advertised for expert hackers, something about writing a book."
"He said I had adver—"
"Using a pen name, I believe. K. Vee. It listed your post office box. But we can talk about that when I get there. How about late this afternoon. Say four-thirty?"
There was a long pause, and Burke could imagine Vickers frantically attempting to find a way out, without alienating a possible large contributor. If so, he obviously failed.
"Yes, I… uh… I look forward to seeing you, Mr. Hill. This afternoon will be fine."
Two men hovered over a maze of electronic equipment in the back of a van parked behind the old building on Sacramento Street in San Francisco. One had on a pair of earphones connected to a tape machine that recorded a radio signal from a telephone tap on the Korean-American Education Foundation lines. He switched the signal to a second machine and rewound a short segment of tape on the first. Then he played it back through a small speaker above the recorder.
"Listen to this, Flash," said FBI Special Agent Harvey Bristol, pulling off the earphones. He was a large man with brooding brown eyes that glared beneath bushy black brows. The telephone line was clear at the moment.
Shortly, the sound of a ringing phone came from the speaker, followed by the voice of the secretary, Che-sun, then the caller, who identified himself as Burke Hill, and finally Dr. Vickers. When Hill said, "I've been studying a bit about computer hackers," Special Agent Carlos Campana nodded.
"Definitely a candidate." Campana, dubbed Flash for his love of flashy ties, flashy cars and flashy women, listened to the remainder of the conversation, then added. "He'll be here at four-thirty. I'd better alert Walters. He can take a look, see what the guy's up to."
Late that afternoon, a misty haze hung over the colorless section of Sacramento Street, giving it a dejected, forlorn look. The spirit of Christmas to come seemed to have largely by-passed this area, although a few retailers had made a stab at attracting more trade with "Xmas Special" signs in the windows. One book shop went even further with a paper Santa and a placard that urged: "Give the gift that lasts. Give a book for Christmas."