"Glad you sent it on, Jerry. You'd be surprised what they might be able to coax out of it. I'll send it to Langley. They'll put it through a digital enhancement process like the astronomers use on those TV images from the space probes. It'll magnify subtle differences in tone that the naked eye can't detect. If we're lucky, we could wind up with digitized pictures that'll be as detailed as close-up shots."
"Really? I wasn't aware of that. Tell me, do you have any ideas on this Ahn Wi-jong? The only Ahn I've ever heard of was a guy who helped run a drug operation in Thailand. I ran across him when I was working with the DEA in Chiangmai."
Burke nearly shouted. "You just said the magic word."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Chiangmai. I guess I neglected to mention earlier something I read in that letter from Dr. Cabot Lowing. When Dr. Lee called him the day before he died, he said he planned to visit Chiangmai, where he intended to confirm the facts he'd received from Pyongyang with the number two Poksu survivor. I took that to mean the Young Tiger's old friend."
"Wonder if he might be related to the younger Ahn?" Jerry said. "I don't think I'd have any problem making contact with him."
"Would you be in shape to go?" Burke asked.
Jerry gave a brief chuckle. "I'm feeling better already. I'll let you know after the arteriogram."
"What about your old buddy, Moon Chwa? Have you talked to him?"
"He came by this afternoon. The Blue House is now denying they know anything about Dr. Shin or his whereabouts."
"Could it be the NSP acted without President Kwak's knowledge?"
"Possibly," Jerry said. "But not likely."
"Didn't the rumors have the NSP upset with the president's decree on this Japanese language thing? As best I recall, Colonel Han Sun-shin, the NSP director, was the one who ordered Prosecutor Park to get Captain Yun off the trail of Hwang Sang-sol. Makes you wonder."
"The one I'm wondering about now is Prime Minister Hong Oh-san," Jerry said. "He's moved out of the president's shadow recently. Yesterday I heard that relations between the two had become pretty strained. He spoke to a big student rally and promised unification with the North was just around the corner. He said he was determined that the government would do things to make all Koreans proud."
"Like a missile firing and an atomic test?"
"That's the thought that hit me. By the way, Moon Chwa enlightened me on the Reijeo PR problem at Chuwangsan," Jerry said. "He's been in contact with another dissident from the plant. Seems the company has cancelled all leaves and days off until January. No more outings to Andong. For all practical purposes, it's a lock-in until time for that bomb test."
Jerry said he would have Song Ji-young check on flight schedules to Bangkok while he was at the hospital for his tests. He would tell her he had to go to Bangkok on behalf of the Coalition for Nuclear Freedom. Once there, he could book a flight to Chiangmai with no problem.
After he had finished talking to Jerry, Burke called Langley for Kingsley Marshall. The director was out, but he got Jarvis Breedlove, the Deputy Director for Intelligence, a former NSA whiz kid whose people were involved with the esoterics of technical intelligence. Burke explained what he needed done with the photograph.
"No problem," Breedlove said. "Get it to us and we'll take care of it. Kingsley said to give you guys priority on this HANGOVER operation."
"Thanks. I'll have it delivered to Clipper Cruise & Travel soon as I get it in the morning. Your courier can pick it up there. If I could get the results by late tomorrow, I'd be grateful." Using the travel agency was a convenient way to avoid direct contact with the CIA. Lori would provide the proper instructions for her people.
Chapter 57
The day was bright and cold. The sky over Seoul seemed to have been bleached out like a pair of stone-washed jeans. In the Worldwide Communications Consultants office on Taepyong-ro, the mood was quite the opposite. Jerry had left for his hospital appointment after announcing to the staff that the doctor had suspected a heart problem. He tried to make it sound routine and unimportant, but the weary look that stemmed from his lack of sleep had given his words a hollow ring.
Jerry and Ji-young had endeavored to keep their relationship on a strictly professional level at the office, but the others knew she enjoyed more than a casual aquaintance with the manager outside business hours. Duane Elliston pressed her for more details.
"What's the real story, Miss Song?" he asked. "How bad is it?"
She shook her head somberly. "I don't know any more than you do, really. The doctor said he couldn't tell much until they did the arteriogram. He thinks it's an artery blockage. Jerry's worried, I know. But who wouldn't be?"
Brittany Pickerel looked around. "I suggest the best thing we can do for Jerry is get to work and keep things moving as smoothly as they would if he were here."
Miss Song nodded her approval.
"An has been working on this radio copy, Duane," Travis Tolliver said. "Want to come over and take a look?"
An Kye-sun, the former reporter, had picked up quickly on the art of writing radio and TV spots.
Duane glanced around with a look of veiled displeasure. "Bring it into my office," he told Travis and walked away.
"I'm going to the restroom, An," Travis said, raising an eyebrow. "Get your stuff and I'll meet you in His Majesty's throne room."
When the Korean rumpled his brow, Brittany grinned. "I think he mean's Duane's office."
An hesitated beside Miss Song's desk until the others had moved on. "What's this I hear about an envelope from Pyongyang?" he asked.
She frowned. "It was for Mr. Hill. I gave it to Jerry. I think he sent it on to Washington. You shouldn't be asking such questions."
He gave her a knowing look. "Yeah, don't talk about the anti-terrorist stuff, huh? Do you believe all that bullshit?"
"You've no cause to talk like that, Mr. An."
"Are you going to tell your Chinese boyfriend on me?" he said. "Rat on one of your own people?"
The look she gave him was cold enough to freeze the blood in his veins. She started to turn back to her typewriter, then reached down to grab her note pad off the desk. He had begun to stare at it where she had written Jerry's instructions to call about flights to Bangkok. Damn the nosy rat, she thought.
When he heard the phone ring in the nearby family room, Burke looked around at the glowing red figures of the timer control unit on the bedside table. Five-ten a.m. He had just contorted himself into a comfortable position after putting a now silent little bundle named Liz back into her crib. It was his turn since Lori had been up earlier with young Cam. A glance at the immovable object beneath the covers beside him showed that his wife, exhausted after a day and night of non-stop mothering, had managed to achieve a state just short of mummification. The ringer had been silenced on the telephone next to the bed, and the sound coming from the room across the way might as well have been at the South Pole as far as she was concerned.
He dragged himself out of bed and slipped his feet into the fuzzy brown scuffs made of kangaroo fur. He padded silently past the matching cribs and across to the family room. As he glanced momentarily at the now-quiet little forms, he realized with a twinge of guilt that he was beginning to question the wisdom of committing to fatherhood at this stage of his life. But he had known when he married Lori that she wanted passionately to become a mother. He would have to accept it as part of the price he had to pay for loving her. Of course, he loved the twins, too. He only hoped he could manage to survive the torment of interrupted sleep until they settled down to a routine of napping through the night.