They were jerked hard to the left when the truck’s rear bumper slammed into their rear quarter panel, but then they were across the fence line. Smith stayed down, preparing to take over if Kyong was hit and not rising again until he calculated they were out of range.
A quick glance back confirmed that Randi was still upright, looking surprised to be alive. Eichmann had crammed himself onto the floorboard behind the driver’s seat and was now struggling to get free. Beyond, the troop carrier was accelerating in their direction with soldiers running alongside, grabbing hold of anything that would let them join the chase.
Kyong threw the jeep right and headed toward a dirt track cutting through the trees in front of them. Their jet was in the other direction, but so were the majority of the tanks. Best to give them a wide berth.
They made it to the main road, but the slightly smoother surface didn’t seem to be translating into speed. Smith looked past Eichmann, who had finally managed to untangle himself, and saw the troop carrier gaining.
“Can’t this thing go any faster?” Smith shouted
“No,” was the only reply.
The Korean seemed to have gone through a profound transformation. The friendly helpfulness was gone, replaced not by panic or despair — but by anger. Maybe even hate.
Not that being chased by the North Korean army wouldn’t ruin anyone’s mood, but this was something more. The change was so complete, Smith had to wonder if this was the real man and the dutiful guide was nothing more than a meticulously crafted character.
“Is there any way off this road?” Smith said. “Onto terrain that will give us an advantage over the truck?”
“No,” Kyong said flatly. “We will be caught.”
The satellite phone in Smith’s pocket vibrated and he pulled it out, punching in his password when he saw that the text was encrypted. Even under the circumstances, it was impossible not to laugh when he read it.
“What?” Randi said from the back.
“Fred says we should get out. That it isn’t safe to be here.”
“Nice timing.”
“We can’t be captured!” Eichmann said in a panicked voice. “They’ll call Christian and find out we—”
“Shut up!” Randi screamed and punched the man in the side of the head with alarming force. “You knew about this place! You knew what they were doing here. And you just sat there and collected data. Don’t talk. Do you understand me? Next time you open your mouth, I’m going to kill you!”
The German was too dazed to respond and instead teetered precariously toward the edge of the open jeep.
“Calm down!” Smith said.
She turned her angry gaze on him. “You shut up too.”
Knowing that there was no point in fighting this battle, he gestured toward the vehicle behind them. “It’s going to catch us. And when it does, it’s going to ram us. The road’s too narrow for us to do anything about it.”
“Then we need to slow it down,” Randi shouted, barely audible over the wind and the roar of the approaching troop carrier’s engine.
“The tires are made in North Korea. Maybe they aren’t run-flat. Do you think you could hit one with your Beretta?”
She shook her head. “I have a better plan.”
Eichmann had shaken off the effects of the blow to the head, but he wasn’t prepared when Randi grabbed him by the front of his jacket. And neither was Smith. By the time he managed to throw a hand out, the scientist was already over the gate and dropping into the road.
“Goddamnit, Randi!” he shouted, watching the old man rag-doll in the dirt.
“What?” she challenged. “He was a sadistic bastard who didn’t have anything else to tell us. I made him useful again.”
It was hard to argue — particularly when the truck skidded to a stop in front of the man and soldiers began streaming out. She’d bought them some time. Now he just had to figure out what to do with it.
When he turned back in his seat, Kyong was staring at him. The anger on his face had turned to confusion.
“But you were with him,” he said. “You worked for him.”
Smith didn’t initially respond but then decided that this was no time to be clever. He might as well come clean and see what happened.
“We forced him to bring us here. We wanted to investigate what was happening at that facility.”
“Then you’re American agents?”
Smith nodded as the dirt road they were on turned steep and winding, improving their odds against the personnel carrier. What wasn’t going to help them, though, was the familiar green shape rising over a crest about a kilometer ahead.
“Tank!” he shouted.
At first, the driver didn’t react, but then the jeep he’d insisted was at full speed started to accelerate. To their left, Smith spotted a double track leading into the trees and assumed they were headed for it.
That wasn’t the case, though, and Kyong sped by, continuing on a collision course with the tank.
“Did you see that?” Randi said from the back. “We could have gotten off there!”
“No!” the Korean said forcefully. “We might be able to make it! If they stay stopped behind us to pick up Dr. Eichmann and we can get to the river bottom…”
Another path, this time to the right, became visible ahead and Smith felt Randi grab him by the back of the neck.
“He’s probably secret police,” she said, bringing her lips close to his ear. “Who else would they send to escort foreign nationals? He’s going to drive us right into that goddamn tank!”
She was probably right. But where did all these side roads go? For all he knew, they petered out after a hundred meters. Add to that the fact that neither of them spoke Korean, they stood out like sore thumbs, and they were in the most clamped-down police state on the planet. It was time to gamble.
He managed a weak shrug and Randi released him, falling back in her seat as they started down a steep hill toward a dry riverbed. Fifty meters before they got to it, Kyong slammed on the brakes and spun the wheel.
“Hold on!” he shouted, crashing into the trees to their right.
Smith put a hand up to protect his face, but in less than a second they were through. Trees that had looked dense a moment before turned out to be a row of saplings planted only a meter deep.
“Come on!” Kyong shouted as he slid the vehicle to a stop and leapt from it. “Help me!”
Still not sure what had just happened, Smith and Randi jumped out and began helping him push the trees and bushes they’d broken upright again. The sound of explosions and mortar fire was still audible in the distance, but it was quickly being drowned out by the rumble of the tank bearing down on them.
“Hurry!” Kyong said. “It’s coming!”
A moment later Smith saw a flash of it going through the riverbed. There was no way to know if the man protruding from the top had seen them go in, but they were about to find out. He helped Randi prop up a bush with a rotting log and then hit the ground. The vibration from the tank sank into his chest as Kyong dropped between them and closed his eyes.
56
Christian Dresner sat in the back of his private plane — a 737 that his growing security detail had insisted on — and watched the black SUV approach through the rain. Another meeting — another altercation — that he didn’t want to be involved in. It was more of his increasing sense of disconnect from the world and the people in it. His time was fading while for so many others it was just beginning. In some ways, he wished he could be part of the future, could see what was to come. Other times, he just felt tired.