by Terry Toler
This was where it got complicated in her mind. Brad probably denied the request. That must’ve been why she saw the guilt written all over his face when he was going against his own rules and telling her about it. It might not have even been his decision. The Director of the CIA probably nixed the idea and left Alex to be sifted like wheat.
When Alex couldn’t deliver the goods, the North Koreans arrested him. That was the only thing that made sense. Why else would Brad say Alex was in danger? Why would he think the North Koreans captured him? Brad felt guilty. He was complicit in some way. Not complicit in the sense that it was his fault, but he could’ve prevented it. Or at least the Agency could’ve.
Panic must’ve come over Alex when he got the word that they weren’t going to pay the money. Maybe he tried to fight his way out and was gunned down before he could get to the exit. He probably took out several guards along the way. Jamie almost hoped that was the case. It would be a better ending than being captured, beaten, and tortured for decades.
That’s why she was so angry. Alex was an idiot for going there in the first place. Brad was a bigger idiot for not having his back. And now they were forcing Jamie to do something even dumber to try and save their hides. She should take the advice she would’ve given Alex and just get on the next flight back to the United States. Her MSO, Mission Success Odds were zero. Not one percent. Not half of one percent, but zero. There was no way she could rescue Alex out of North Korean custody. She didn’t even know if he was still alive.
He has to be. That’s the only way I can picture him.
Jamie fought back the tears. If he was alive, Alex probably wasn’t in a prison camp. They would take him to Pyongyang for interrogation. Probably the secret police headquarters. He’d be there for a long time going through unspeakable torture until they decided what to do to him.
How could she get to him?
The capital city of Pyongyang was totally locked down. There were checkpoints at every road leading in or out. Foreigners weren’t allowed in without government permission and extensive scrutiny and couldn’t travel alone without a monitor. If she somehow made it into the city proper, she wouldn’t last a day before she got caught on the streets.
Even if she did somehow manage to stay in the shadows, what could she do for Alex? The secret police building was an invariable fortress. Hundreds, if not thousands, of armed guards would surround it with barricades. If she somehow infiltrated the outer perimeter, the building was acres of real estate. Tens of thousands of square feet of offices and interrogation rooms. She’d end up in one of them quicker than Alex had.
A suicide mission.
Except that death wouldn’t come that quickly.
Go home.
Something she would never do. If the situation were reversed, Alex would move heaven and earth to find her.
I can’t find him. There’s nothing I can do.
Jamie was now sitting in a lounge chair in the boarding area for her flight to Seoul when the realization hit her like a fifty-pound sack of concrete falling on her. She put her feet up and pulled her knees close to her body and wrapped her arms around them. The thoughts were suddenly overwhelming her emotions.
She buried her head in her knees and allowed the tears to flow as the hopelessness of the situation began stabbing her in the heart like a jagged knife.
***
When Jamie regained her composure, a new plan had formed. If Alex could infiltrate the North Korean cyber lab then so could she. The problem was that she didn’t know the location of the lab. She couldn’t get it from the South Korean cyber lab that Alex had worked out of because no one knew she was there. That was a secure facility, and she’d need a pass to get in.
Then it occurred to her. Alex was meticulous in covering his tracks. The location would be somewhere in his hotel room. On his computer or written down. There would be some notes. Alex always prepared for the worst-case scenario. He wouldn’t have gone to all that trouble to find the lab and then not ensure that the information could be used in the future should something happen to him.
Even something as innocuous as getting hit by a bus crossing the street. Alex would want the information protected and found. The first thing she’d do when she arrived in South Korea was go to his hotel room where the, Do Not Disturb sign, was no doubt still hanging on the door. He wouldn’t want a maid finding the information and throwing it away. The room would be prepaid for several days. She’d have to figure out how to access it.
Once she knew the location of the lab, she’d go across the border and destroy it. Kill Pok. Exact revenge for Alex. It was the least she could do. Probably the most she could do as well. It might be a one-way suicide mission, but the MSO was in the thirty-to-forty percent range. She at least had a chance she could come out of it alive.
Success would mean she struck a devastating blow to North Korea's cyber warfare program. Her computer skills weren’t as developed as Alex’s, but she had the operational and military skills to rain down confusion and firepower on the facility.
But . . . she’d need weapons.
You’re always armed, she heard Curly say in her head.
Jamie got up from her chair with renewed energy and went for another walk. She had about an hour before the flight left and a half hour before it boarded. Jamie almost ran through the terminals as resolve was built inside her. She was in such elite physical condition that it took a lot of strenuous exercise to get her heart rate up. By the time she was finished with the brisk walk, her heart rate was elevated and took several minutes to come back down.
She bought a protein and an energizer smoothie and went back to the boarding area.
What she saw sent her heart racing again.
***
Two Iranians were in line to board.
Conspicuous. Out of place. Towering above the Koreans.
Curly always said to trust her instincts. Her eyes would see something that wasn’t right, and her subconscious would sound an alarm before her conscious knew what it was. The picture in front of her was causing all kinds of alarms to blare in her head.
She studied the men. They were tall. Brawny. Wearing black suits. White shirts. No ties. They were trying to look like businessmen. They were fighters. Trained killers.
Iranian Revolutionary Guard.
Jamie would recognize them anywhere. They had a certain look. The battlefields of Iraq and Syria left a certain indelible mark on a man. It was on their faces. Something impossible to describe. Like the identifiable hands of an auto mechanic that have grease permanently stained on them and black grime accumulated under his fingernails. Or the face of a construction worker who spent too many hours in the sun. Or the face of a woman who’d been in the sex trade for years. It was in their eyes. Their demeanor. Their body language. They all had a particular look, and Jamie knew the look of an Iranian Revolutionary Guardsman when she saw one.
In this case, two.
What were they doing?
They were constantly surveilling the area. Their shoulders were tense and their faces in a permanent scowl. Their feeble attempt to look like traveling businessmen only raised Jamie’s suspicion further. She wasn’t falling for the ruse. These men were on a mission.
Men like this weren’t well trained in avoiding detection. A good agent altered his appearance to blend into the crowd. The key was to look unremarkable. That was hard for these men to do because they were in line with a bunch of Koreans who weren’t as tall.
It was hard for Jamie to do as well. At nearly six feet tall and with blonde hair, she drew attention just from her looks. That’s why she was wearing baggy clothes, no makeup, and her hair was pulled back in a ponytail covered by a Chicago Cubs baseball cap. The hat was to also hide her face from the security cameras. Just in case Brad was applying some facial recognition software to passengers to see if she was going to South Korea against his orders.
These men are up to no good.
All of Jamie’s senses were now engaged
. She skulked to the back of the boarding line to get out of the line of sight of the men who were nearing the gate attendant to have their tickets scanned. The only thing Jamie was carrying was a backpack. Curly taught them to travel light and never check a bag. In her bag was a set of headphones. She opened the backpack, pulled them out, put them over her ears, and began nodding her head up and down and back and forth like she was listening to music, making herself even less noticeable.
Let them go. It’s none of your business.
Jamie should let them go and forget she ever saw them, but she couldn’t make herself do it. Something was drawing her to the men.
I’m just doing surveillance.
If nothing else, it would get her prepared for North Korea and put her in mission mode.
The men’s tickets were scanned, and they entered the jetway. One of them looked back and scanned the gate area. For a moment, their eyes met. Rather than look away suspiciously, Jamie tilted her head upward slightly and started mouthing the words of a song even though there was no music playing in her ears. Unlike the men, Jamie was highly trained in avoiding detection.
She waited to board so she’d be the last person on. Rather than going to the business class section, she turned right and started down the aisle of the coach seats, scanning the cabin for the two men. They weren’t hard to spot. The cabin had three sets of seats. Three on each side of the aisles and four in the middle.
Their seats were on the other side of the aircraft. That was good. It gave her a chance to come up from behind them.
She went all the way to the back and circled to the other aisle. That’s why she boarded last. Taking someone’s seat would cause a scene and draw attention to herself. The flight was a little more than half full, so she had plenty of seats to choose from.
The row behind them was completely empty, but that was too close. Jamie took the aisle two rows back. Another passenger was in the window seat. She slipped her backpack under the seat in front of her.
The men were speaking in Farsi. Another sign they were on a mission. Iranian agents spoke the native language, feeling comfortable that no one on board would know it. Farsi was a language she was taught in CIA training school. While Jamie wasn’t proficient, she knew enough to make out most of the words.
“We got an email from the Director,” one of the men said in a heavy Farsi accent.
The Director. That was probably the Director of the MOIS. Another clue they were working for the Iranian Intelligence Agency.
“Read it,” the other one said. His deep bass voice carried back to her seat as he made no attempt to whisper or muffle the words.
“There is an American spy on the loose in North Korea,” the man began reading from the email. “He may have killed three of our men. Find him and find the satchel.”
“What are we supposed to do when we find him?” the other man asked.
“Kill him.”
“Do we have a description or name?”
“Big guy. His name is Alex. He shouldn’t be hard to find.”
Jamie’s mouth flew open so fast it would have plunged to the floor had it not been attached to her face.
30
The Korean Airliner pulled back from the gate. Jamie was sitting two rows back from the two Iranians, trying to listen to their conversation and determine what they were up to. They’d just dropped the bombshell that they were searching for Alex in North Korea. She leaned forward in her seat so she could hear them better. They didn’t say anything for several minutes, but eventually started up the conversation again.
“The Director wants both of them dead,” Jamie heard the Iranian say to the other.
Both of them? What did he mean?
“The American is with the girl,” the other Iranian said.
What girl?
The Captain came on the intercom to welcome the passengers. Jamie leaned even further forward in her seat and strained to hear what the man was saying. Something about a girl.
“The girl is the one who stole the satchel,” the man continued. “The satchel contained the Pakistani codes.” They were still speaking in Farsi, and Jamie was already having a hard time understanding them because of the thick accent. It was made worse by the Captain’s crackling voice reverberating through the cabin.
“We’re expecting a smooth flight all the way to our final destination. Which is Seoul, South Korea. If you’re not going to Seoul, then I don’t know what to tell you,” the Captain said drawing a chuckle from the passengers.
The Iranians weren’t paying attention to the Captain either as they continued their conversation. “What does the American have to do with it?” one of them said.
“He’s protecting the girl. The Director said he killed three of our men.”
Jamie’s heart suddenly grew cold. The elation of learning that Alex was alive was now being overwhelmed by confusion and anger.
Alex did all this for a girl?
“The American and the girl are traveling together. We find one, we find the other . . .”
Traveling together?
The rest of what he said was drowned out by the Captain droning on about how long a flight it was and the cruising altitude.
Who cares?
Jamie wanted to tap the Iranian on the shoulder and say, Excuse me. Could you repeat that? What about the girl? Who is she? Tell me everything you know about her.
“We’ve been cleared for takeoff,” the Captain said as the engines revved, creating even more noise. She couldn’t hear any more of the discussion. The plane took off, and the roar of the engines and the vibrations of the aircraft drowned out anything the men were saying.
When the plane finally reached cruising altitude they were no longer talking about Alex or the girl. The Iranians were settled in and had reclined their chairs to sleep.
Jamie sat back in her seat. She considered staying in coach to see if she could overhear more conversation. More than likely, they were done. That was probably all they knew anyway. Staying in the back would create a greater risk of her being “made” by the Iranians. Besides, she wasn’t going to spend the next ten hours in coach, when she could be in the luxurious business class. Especially knowing what she knew now about Alex and the girl. Which wasn’t much. Just enough to make her mad.
Alex caused this whole big scene over a girl!
What a cad!
The thought caused every muscle in Jamie’s body to tense in anger. She was traveling halfway around the world, risking her job by disobeying her boss’s order, and putting herself in harm’s way for him. Only to find out that he’d been carousing around North Korea with some girl.
Half of her wanted to catch the first plane back to the states the minute she arrived in South Korea. The other half wanted to see the look on Alex’s face when she confronted him and made him explain what he was doing.
A woman’s curiosity would win the day. Jamie knew there was no turning back. Now she had to find Alex. She had to know who this girl was.
Was she an agent? The Iranian said she was Korean. How did he meet her, and why was he protecting her? Was she pretty? The questions erupted in her head faster than she could process them and create a counter argument with a reasonable explanation.
The conflicting thoughts and emotions were warring inside of her. Maybe Alex had a girl in every port or “station” as they were called in the CIA. She tried to beat the jealousy back with a proverbial emotional stick.
Alex wouldn’t cheat on me.
There must be some other explanation. They were talking about getting married. While they weren’t officially engaged and no date was set, they were definitely dating each other exclusively . . . although they had been dating for two years, and she was the one slow walking the relationship.
Even after all that time, they hadn’t had sex. She insisted they wait until marriage which Alex seemed okay with. Was that fair? She wasn’t ready to make a lifelong commitment but was making him wait to have sex until she was.
I’m not sitting back here in coach while I try to figure it out.
When the Captain turned off the seat belt sign, Jamie slipped out of the seat, walked around the back of the aircraft out of the sight of the Iranians, and then down the aisle to the business class section where she found her assigned seat.
It felt more like a suite on a private jet than a seat, but she couldn’t allow herself to enjoy it. In the time it had taken her to walk from the back of the plane to the front, anger had returned with a fury.
You’d better hope the Iranians find you before I do, Alex Halee!
Whoever the girl is, I hope she’s worth it.
***
Momma-son Diner
At that moment, I didn’t remember being in a worse situation. Bae and I were in a crawl space in a hidden safe room off of the kitchen of the diner. The room was pitch black and the ceiling not tall enough to stand up, so we were crouched on the dirt floor along with no telling how many bugs and critters. The thought made me shudder.
Outside the door were four North Korean secret police agents. We could hear them shouting at Momma and the other patrons in the diner. In a couple more minutes, I expected the door to open and the secret police to drag Bae and me out of our dungeon and haul us away to what would be a brutal interrogation.
I could do little to protect us. Normally, I tried to put myself in the position where I had the option of either fight or flight. In this instance, fight was the only option. I had a gun with twelve bullets. It was firmly in my hand even though I couldn’t see it with my eyes on account of the darkness.
The problem was that when the door opened, it would take time for my eyes to adjust to the light, and the police would have every tactical advantage. They had the high ground, so to speak. I would get shots off at them, but all they had to do was fire their weapons into the darkness, and we’d be as helpless as a raccoon in a trap.
The other problem was I couldn’t start firing immediately. If Momma didn’t turn us in, I didn’t want to hit her or one of the other customers in the diner. I would have to hesitate. Wait and see who was on the other side of the door. Every part of my being said I made a mistake getting into that room.