“Had a felling. I didn’t think Cliff was that stupid.”
38
The regional flight from Dandong to Seoul had taken two hours. As far as Jake knew, their baggage had not been scrutinized thoroughly enough to find the gun broken down and separated between their bags.
From the Seoul airport, they had gone to the train station and purchased with cash one-way tickets to Osan, some 45 miles south of the capitol city.
Now, Jake and Su settled into their chairs in a commuter car among a wave of Koreans.
Su rubbed her left wrist, which had swollen and turned black and blue, and was obviously giving her a great deal of pain.
“Hurt much?” Jake asked her.
She pulled her sleeve down over her wrist. “No. I’m okay.”
The train slowly pulled away from the terminal and picked up speed. Shortly after coming to the surface, they passed through industrial areas and slums before reaching high speed in the country fields. At that rate, Jake thought, they would be in Osan in less than an hour.
“Listen,” Jake said. “I don’t speak Korean, but maybe I can get you some pain reliever. It’ll help with the swelling.”
Suddenly, Su’s eyes shot up toward the front of the car, her face ashen. Then her head shot out toward the aisle.
“What’s up?” Jake asked her.
“Nothing. I thought I saw someone I know.”
Jake looked toward the front of the train and then back toward her. “In this car?”
He had been rising in his chair somewhat for a better look, and she pulled him down. “It must have been a mistake. He’s from China.”
Jake was going to let it go, but something had disturbed her, he was sure. “You need to tell me who you saw.”
She rubbed her eyes with her right hand. “He was a bad man. He handle me.”
“He was your handler?” Shit. That’s all they needed was a Chinese agent mucking things up. He glanced up at his backpack on the overhead rack, which contained the digital camera and the photos of the Chinese test site. How could they know where they were? Something wasn’t right.
Less than an hour later, the train pulled into the central Osan station and the two of them collected their backpacks and drifted off the train with the crowd, Jake trying his best to keep them in the middle. Su’s eyes shifted around trying to find the man again.
Without hesitation, they walked directly through the main lobby to the busy street. Jake nodded to the lead taxi and the man helped them put their bags in the trunk.
He and Su got into the back and the driver got in and looked back at them. “Where to?”
“Osan Air Base,” Jake said.
The driver, missing two front teeth, smiled and said, “I guess that.” Then he drove off in a hurry. “I no go on base,” the man said over his shoulder. “Not allowed.”
“No problem. Just drop us off at the front gate.”
Osan Air Base was located some five miles south of Osan in an area of sprawling business parks that had once been rice paddies. The area just outside the front gate had grown along with the Korean economy, and had recently been incorporated into a new city.
Jake, thinking back on his Air Force days, remembered that Osan was home to Seventh Air Force, with squadrons of F-16 and A-10 aircraft that could quickly respond to any attack from the north through the Demilitarized Zone. The base was also a major transport hub for Air Mobility Command, with daily flights to Japan and beyond. Including Alaska.
As they approached the main gate, with its arched entrance and reinforced concrete barriers, Jake thought about his old friend, whom he knew was still stationed there, since he had e-mailed the man just prior to departing Austria, saying he would be nearby in China but would not have time to swing down through Korea. But life was full of surprises. He hoped his friend agreed.
The driver pulled over to the right of the gate in an area used just for that. Jake and Su got out and retrieved their bags from the trunk, Jake giving the man a nice tip.
“Now what?” Su asked him. She looked nervously at the security police airmen with their M16s across their chests.
“Gotta see a man about a horse.”
“Huh?”
“It’s just a saying,” Jake said. “Come on.”
He led her toward a building that was still outside the gate, used to screen civilian contractors and visitors. Anyone who needed a pass to be on the base temporarily.
Inside, Su stood back a ways as Jake went to a window with a female sergeant in battle dress uniform behind Plexiglas.
“Hello Sergeant Jones,” Jake said. “I’m here to visit a friend. Lieutenant Colonel Stanley Bailey.”
“Is he expecting you, Sir?” the sergeant asked.
“Not today. Otherwise he’d be here to meet me. Could you please call him for me and tell him I’m here?” Jake slid his passport through the hole at the bottom of the window, which she picked up and viewed.
She nodded and then clicked a few keys on her computer, obviously looking up Lt. Col. Bailey in the base directory.
Jake turned and smiled at Su, who was nervously holding her left wrist with her right hand.
“Sir,” the sergeant said, a phone in her hand. “He’d like to talk with you.” She slid the phone through the hole to Jake.
“Jake Adams,” he said into the phone.
“Hey. What the fuck? I thought you weren’t going to make it down here?”
“Change of plans. I’m at the front gate.”
“Be there in a second. Time for some brewskies.”
Jake smiled as he slid the phone back through the hole and accepted his passport from the sergeant. He slowly drifted back toward Su.
“Now what?” Su asked him.
“Now we take a seat and wait.”
She laughed. “Just like our military.”
They took seats along the wall to wait.
Ten minutes later, the door swung open and in rushed six Korean police officers, their guns drawn and aimed directly at Jake and Su.
39
“She’s on the move,” came a soft voice from the front seat.
Fisher tried his best to wake himself, but his head was swirling about. Sitting up, he straightened his gun under his left arm.
“Why aren’t we moving, then?” he asked.
His question was answered with one look toward the front of the hotel. A small airport shuttle was parked and guests were loading their bags onto it, including the Asian woman.
“Why’d she go through all this trouble?” Harris asked.
Fisher thought and then got on his phone. He told the Portland Agency boss what was going on, and asked that a crew process the Trooper as soon as possible. He listened carefully and then clicked off.
“You got a hunch?”
“Yeah. Could be nothing. They processed her house in California and the crime scenes in Bend and Eugene.”
“And?”
Fisher didn’t respond immediately. The revelation from Portland was difficult for him to process. “She’s worked for us in the past. Before we became the new Agency, though.”
“Great. A former CIA agent?”
“Double agent.”
The two of them watched the airport shuttle pull away from the front of the hotel.
Fisher got out and moved to the driver’s seat after Harris had moved back to the passenger side. He pulled out after the shuttle, but stayed far back. It wasn’t like he didn’t know where they were heading.
The drive to the airport took only a few minutes. The shuttle dropped its load in front of the terminal, and Fisher, pulled over in a taxi zone, slammed his hand against the steering wheel.
“Can you drive?” he asked Harris.
“Yeah.”
“I’m gonna follow her.” He slipped out of the car and started after the Asian woman, who had a small carry-on bag that she pulled behind her.