"And you figured we were in trouble," Burke said.
"I knew you were in trouble. I rushed out here and found the body beside the door. Then I looked in the window and saw the man threatening you with a knife. I fired at him through the window, but the shot was deflected enough that it missed."
"It was close enough to save my neck, literally," Burke said, suddenly feeling overcome with exhaustion. The adrenalin was gone, and the thought of Duane Elliston lying out in the snow left him with an emptiness inside. He knew how an army commander must feel after the loss of one of his troops. Was it the result of something he had done wrong, or something he hadn't done? Should he have waited to reach Lieutenant Yun before they started out tonight? It was something he would have to live with.
"What are we going to do about Hwang's body, and Duane out back, and all the blood around this place?" Burke asked, looking around the room. "With what we have to do tomorrow, we damned sure don't need anybody asking a lot of questions about this."
"I agree," the Lieutenant said with a worried look. Then his frown softened. "Superintendent General Choi, my father's old friend who arranged for him to go to Pyongyang, might be able to help. The men under his command have been involved in special operations. Perhaps they could clean up the place and dispose of Hwang's body. Choi may have some connections who could get your friend quietly to a hospital or morgue. I'll turn in the Smith and Wesson and take responsibility for using it when the time comes to make a report."
An hour and a half later, Burke was back at the office with Lieutenant Yun. Superintendent General Choi, after a judicious bit of explanation by Se-jin that the dead Korean was his father's murderer, had sent a trusted squad over to clean up the place and dispose of the bodies. Duane was in a hospital's temporary morgue, listed as an accidental death, where his body would await instructions from the American Embassy.
After they had finished discussing plans for the following morning, Lieutenant Yun asked if there was any way to make him a copy of the cassette tape with Hwang's voice on it. "It might be a good thing to have more than one copy around, just in case."
"Good idea," Burke said. "We have all sorts of recording equipment around here. I'll make you a copy."
After the Lieutenant left, Burke placed a dreaded call to Washington.
"I have some bad news," he said when he got Nate on the line.
"Not Jerry again?" Nate asked.
"No, it's Duane. He's been shot."
"Bad?" Nate asked.
Burke breathed a sigh. "He's dead."
He told Nate what had happened.
"Oh, God," Nate said softly. "I hate to have to call his father. Josh Elliston has already had enough disappointments for one lifetime. I guess it's some consolation that you got his killer."
"It's no consolation for me," Burke said. "I shouldn't have let him talk me into going that way."
"Don't blame yourself, Burke. There are too many other things that could have gone wrong either way. You'd better go back to the hotel and get some rest. It wouldn't be putting it in the extreme to say the job lying before you is one of epic proportions. The rest of the world has no idea of the vital importance of what we're asking you to do in the morning. Let's hope they never have to find out."
After he had hung up, Burke sat behind Jerry's desk and stared at the flowered panels of the folding screen that stretched across one end of the office. But his thoughts were concentrated on what Nate had said. Oddly, it had never entered his mind to consider the task that lay before him on anything other than a personal level. He had viewed it as a difficult confrontation between himself and another man, his chief worry being the possible danger it posed for his personal safety. Now he was being cast as the key player in an epic encounter with global ramifications. He wasn't sure he was ready to shoulder a load of that magnitude.
Burke had never been guilty of harboring any illusions of grandeur. He was quite happy with who he was and what he had. Particularly happy right now, since a couple of hours ago he thought he had lost it all. His desires were simple. He had been looking forward to his first real family Christmas in years, relaxing with Lori and the twins, and now with Cliff as well. The trappings of fame held no interest for him. TV and newspaper interviews, ticker-tape parades, congressional appearances, speaking engagements. Yet that was the kind of image he saw emerging from Nate's comments.
Fortunately, he needn't worry about any of those eventualities. On this assignment, he would succeed or fail in anonymity.
Nevertheless, he slept fitfully, burdened by the bandages on his neck and forehead.
Chapter 69
With all the solemnity of a military courier, the Koryo Ilbo production manager personally delivered a large brown envelope shortly after Burke arrived at the office. Burke placed the envelope in his briefcase and went immediately to the American Embassy. He was promptly ushered into Ambassador Shearing's office.
A patrician from the Ivy League/Eastern Establishment ranks, Shearing was near retirement age after a long and distinguished career in the diplomatic corps. He had been posted to Seoul because of his reputation for handling difficult situations. Burke interpreted the scowl on his handsome face this morning as the result of feeling he was being sabotaged, undermined, subverted, for reasons that were entirely unclear.
Shearing held the envelope with the embossed White House return address in both hands as he stared at Burke.
"I have no idea what has possessed the President and the Secretary to do this. Had I had the opportunity to counsel against it, you can be certain that I would have."
Burke masked his discomfort with a noncommittal look. "I'm sorry I can't help you, Mr. Ambassador. I've been sworn to secrecy."
"I had no doubt you would be. The letter that accompanied this envelope explained briefly what was in it, though it was woefully short of details on the purpose behind it. Have you ever negotiated with a foreign leader before?"
"No, sir, I haven't," said Burke.
Shearing shook his head. "What time is your appointment?"
"I don't have one. We thought it best to go in cold."
"God help us!" The Ambassador groaned. "This may set the practice of diplomacy back into the nineteenth century." He looked down at a folder on his desk bearing a red Top Secret stamp. "I also received a highly classified message from Washington this morning. It directs me to arrange for the pickup and transportation of the body of an employee of your company. All to be accomplished with utmost discretion. It appears he died under mysterious circumstances. I presume you know what this is all about?"
"I'm afraid I can't tell you anything about that, either. Other than the arrangements to take his body to a hospital morgue were made by a high official in the Seoul Metropolitan Police Bureau."
Ambassador Shearing handed over the envelope, an ambivalent look on his face. "I wish you luck in whatever the hell you're doing, Mr. Hill. I have a hunch that if you don't succeed, my life is going to become very complicated."
"Thank you, sir," Burke said, slipping the envelope into his briefcase. "I'm afraid you're right."
Rising temperatures and a bright red ball in the eastern skies combined to reduce yesterday's snowfall from a heavy blanket to a thin sheet. But there was still plenty of white background to readily show the beefed up security strung out along the chain-link fence that surrounded the Blue House grounds. Camouflage-suited troops armed with automatic weapons were stationed all along the perimeter.
A pair of guards at the entrance inquired about the business Burke and Lieutenant Yun had in mind.