The Target

by David Baldacci

  “It wasn’t like he advertised it, Robie. And it was a perfect way to get teens in there to basically be slaves to their cause. Cooking, cleaning, delivering messages, sewing their ugly uniforms, xeroxing their hate pamphlets. It was like being in prison. Every time I tried to get away they caught me, beat me, terrorized me. Dikes was the worst of them by far. I hated him even more than I hated my father.”

  “But you finally turned the tables on them, Jessica. And brought it all down.”

  “Not all of it, Robie. Not all of it.”

  She looked down, her eyes closing and her face wrinkling in pain.

  “You okay?”

  She opened her eyes. “I’m fine. You want to pick up your speed? Let’s just get this over with.”

  They left their guns in the rental and cleared the security checkpoint into the prison. The place looked like it had been built about a hundred years ago. Its outer walls were stained black and part of the front entrance was crumbling, with rebar exposed under the masonry. There was only one road in. The land was flat, leaving nowhere to hide.

  Robie eyed the guard towers set on all sides. Inside, men in uniforms paced back and forth with long-range rifles in hand.

  “Don’t see many escapes happening from here,” said Robie.

  “Well, if my father had tried, they could have shot him. Saved us all a lot of grief.”

  They were escorted not to a visitors’ area, but directly to the hospital ward.

  When they reached the doorway Robie said, “Okay, we’re here. You sure you’re ready to do this?”

  She took a deep breath but still shook slightly. “This is crazy. I’ve stared down scum five times worse than his ass.”

  “Those scum weren’t your father.”

  She marched into the ward with Robie in her wake. The entrance to the area the patients were in was blocked by a guard stand. Robie and Reel went through this checkpoint. Robie eyed the name tag on the guard’s shirt.

  Albert.

  Albert was a big man, he observed. And he looked meaner than he was big.

  Albert eyed Reel with great interest. Robie saw her gaze sweep over Albert, but he knew she was merely sizing him up in case she had to kick his ass later.

  Albert said, “What you want with old Earl?”

  “Visit,” said Reel curtly.

  “I know that. You’re on the list.”

  “Okay,” said Reel. “I’m on the list.”

  “You know Earl?”

  “You said I’m on the list. Do I get to visit him or not? If I have to answer twenty questions with you, I’ll just turn around and go back to where I came from.”

  “Hey, hey, just asking, lady. You can go on and see him. Fourth bed on the left.”

  “Thanks,” said Reel as she breezed by him with Robie next to her.

  “Asshole,” she said under her breath.

  She took more steps, counting down beds until she reached the fourth on the left. Then she stopped and looked down, her face a mask of stone.

  Earl Fontaine was obviously expecting her. He was sitting up in his bed, his hair washed and neatly combed and his face shaved.

  “Hello there, baby girl,” he said. “My, my, how you done grown. Is that really you, Sally?”

  Chapter

  34

  CHUNG-CHA WAS FINISHING HER first cup of morning tea when there came a knock on her door. She rose, padded across the room, and looked through the peephole. She opened the door and stepped back.

  Three men walked past her and into the room of her apartment. Two were in uniform. One wore a black tunic and slacks of the same color.

  Chung-Cha closed the door behind her and joined them in the center of the tiny room.

  “Good morning, Comrade Yie,” said the man in the tunic.

  Chung-Cha nodded slightly and waited. Her gaze darted to the uniforms and she counted the stars on their shoulders. As many as General Pak had possessed.

  She indicated chairs for them to take and they all sat down. She offered tea but this was declined.

  “Pak,” said the black tunic.

  “Yes?” replied Chung-Cha.

  “He is dead. Apparently he killed himself while in France. At least that is what preliminary reports are saying.”

  “He was feeling great guilt,” said one of the generals. “For his treachery.”

  The other general shook his head. “It is difficult to believe. His family is an honored one.”

  “No longer,” said the black tunic, who was a direct representative of the Supreme Leader. “His family is dishonored and will be appropriately punished. Indeed, that punishment is being meted out as we speak.”

  Chung-Cha knew this meant they were being sent to the labor camps. She did not know any of Pak’s family, but she felt empathy for them nonetheless. She knew this order would include even young children. And what possible culpability could they have?

  Three generations. The cleansing must happen.

  But then she remembered something.

  “What family does he have?” asked Chung-Cha. “I understand that his wife was dead and that he had no children.”

  “He has an adopted daughter and son. It was not well known. He adopted them later in life. They are both grown.”

  “But if they are adopted there is no traitor blood issue,” said Chung-Cha.

  The black tunic seemed to swell with indignation. “That is no concern of yours. He was a traitor, which means they are traitors. They will be appropriately dealt with.”

  “Which camp?” asked Chung-Cha, before she could stop herself.

  The black tunic looked incredulous. “If I were you, Comrade, I would focus on things that concern you. I am well aware of your past. Do not give me occasion to revisit it.”

  Chung-Cha bowed her head. “I apologize for my foolishness. I will never again speak of it. You are right, it is no concern of mine.”

  “I’m glad that you understand that,” said the black tunic, though his eyes remained suspicious.

  “I was sad to have to report General Pak’s treachery to you,” said Chung-Cha. “But it was imperative that you knew. An enemy of the state is an enemy of the state, regardless of his exalted position.”

  Her underlying intent was probably missed by the three men. She was not of exalted position. She had never been of exalted position. And yet she was loyal. To a point. And she would never go back to the camps.

  “Precisely,” said the black tunic. “You have done well, Comrade Yie. You will be appropriately rewarded.”

  Chung-Cha wondered if this meant another electric rice cooker. Or perhaps another set of tires for her car. Actually, she would prefer a South Korean–made Kia. She had heard such things were possible if the Supreme Leader willed them to happen.

  “Thank you.”

  “But there is yet another dilemma.”

  She inclined her head. She had wondered from the moment they had knocked on her thin door and entered her humble apartment what it was they actually wanted of her. They did not have to come here to thank her. They were busy, important men. To come merely to thank her was out of the question.

  That could only mean one thing.

  The black tunic said, “We require your services, Comrade Yie, for a very delicate mission.”

  “Yes?” she said inquiringly.

  “General Pak was not alone at his death.”

  She sat there, her hands in her lap, and waited for what he would say next.

  “We believe that two American agents were with him at the end.”

  “Did they kill him? Was it not suicide?”

  One general exclaimed, “We are not sure. We cannot be sure of that. They could have made it look like Pak took his own life. They are as cunning as they are evil. You know that.”

  Chung-Cha nodded and said, “Yes. I know this.”

  There was no other possible response a North Korean could make to such a statement and hope to live or remain free.

  “Pak must have known w
e would discover his treachery,” said the same general. “That is why he immediately fled to France on the pretext of a health issue.”

  “Why France?” asked Chung-Cha.

  The black tunic shrugged. “He had been there before. It was a quirk of his personality that he seemed to like French things. He did not always appreciate the glory and beauty that is his own country.”

  One of the generals said, “While the man you killed, this Lloyd Carson, was British, we believe he was secretly working with the Americans. We had tracked General Pak to the cottage where he died and had it under observation. We were about to take him when those two agents showed up. They had surveillance cameras up, but our people were able to avoid them. A single shot was fired. Then, very soon, people came and cleansed the area—more Americans. They were obviously behind all of this, the evil devils.”

  “And what is the delicate mission you wish me to perform?” she asked.

  The generals looked at each other and then both turned to the black tunic. He, it seemed, had been chosen to deliver the instruction.

  “We believe that the cowardly Americans sought to actually kill our Supreme Leader and replace him with the traitorous General Pak. We cannot allow that to stand without a response. A very forceful response. It is imperative.”

  “And what shape will this forceful response take?” asked Chung-Cha.

  “An eye for an eye, Comrade Yie.”

  She blinked. “You wish the death of the American president?”

  Now the black tunic blinked as well. “No. We must humbly admit to ourselves that such a goal is unrealistic. He is too well guarded. But there is another target that will deliver our response just as forcefully.”

  “And what is that?”

  “He has a wife and two children. They must pay the price for their husband and father’s evil work. They must die, because they are just as guilty as he is.”

  Chung-Cha looked at the two generals and found their features impassive. She looked back at the black tunic.

  “You wish me to travel to America and kill them?” she asked.

  “You must do so all at one time, while they are together, as they frequently are. We cannot eliminate them singly, because the survivors will be forewarned.”

  “And when I do so and the Americans retaliate?”

  “They are a weak bully. They have nuclear weapons? Well, so do we. And unlike them we have the courage to use them. They have much to lose. We have relatively little. And because of that, they will turn tail and run away like the cowards they are. You must understand, Comrade Yie, that we desire this confrontation. After all that has come before, we will prove to the world once and for all which country is mightier. The Supreme Leader is adamant on that point.”

  Chung-Cha attempted to process all of this. Once she did she could see a result that did not mirror the man’s words at all. She could see her country literally wiped off the face of the earth. But it was not her place to question such things.

  She said, “If this is to be accomplished a plan must be put into place, intelligence gathered, useful people recruited.”

  The black tunic smiled. “All of what you say is true. And we have begun all of this. We will not strike right away. But when we do, the world will never forget.” He added in a patronizing tone, “And I know that you are honored beyond words, Comrade Yie, that you have been chosen by the Supreme Leader for such an important mission. I know that if you die in carrying it out, you will die with a heart full of pride that the Supreme Leader had such confidence in you. I cannot imagine a greater feeling when the end appears.”

  Chung-Cha nodded, but what she really knew was that if she were to die for her country, she would not be thinking any of those things.

  It was easy enough for the black tunic and the generals to send her out on what seemed a suicide mission. But then to expect her to gladly give her life for a mission that might well lead to the destruction of her homeland, well, that was asking too much.

  The black tunic said, “We will be in touch as things develop. And I will convey to the Supreme Leader your heartfelt thanks at being selected to fight on behalf of your country.”

  Chung-Cha respectfully nodded again but said nothing.

  After the men left she went to her window and watched them pile into a small military van parked at the curb and speed off.

  Once they were out of sight she glanced toward the sky and saw a storm approaching from the direction of the Taedong.

  It could not be any darker than her current thoughts.

  She turned away from the window and went to finish her now-cold tea.

  Chapter

  35

  REEL STARED DOWN AT THE man who had been a very “small” part of bringing her into the world. As Robie looked around he saw that everyone in the ward was focused on the pair. He wondered if Earl Fontaine had earlier announced to all here that his only child was coming to see him off to eternity.

  He had changed a lot. But not enough to be unrecognizable to Reel. Within the wrinkles and damaged skin and bloated features was clearly the man who had abused her beyond all reckoning. And the man who had killed her mother. And so many others.

  She decided to let him keep talking before she said anything.

  “I’m so glad you done come, baby girl,” he finally gushed.

  “I’m not a baby. And I’m not a girl.”

  “Course not, course not, but you was the last time I seen you, Sally.”

  “Not my name anymore. And the reason that was the last time you saw me was your own choice. Being murderous scum sort of leaves you with few options. And since you killed my mother there wasn’t really anyone left for me, was there?”

  Earl grinned widely at this harsh rebuke. “Still got the sass, that’s for damn sure. Good to see. Choices is right. I made ’em. Now I got to live with ’em. But sure glad you come ’round. Can go easier now.”

  “Why?”

  “Why? Hell, girl, you the only family I got left. Want to say goodbye right and proper.”

  “Is that why you think I’m here? To say goodbye right and proper? Are you that stupid? Or egotistical? Or both?”

  Earl waved these remarks off and his grin broadened. “You got every right in the world to hate my guts. I know that. And way back when, you’d be exactly right—I was a bastard. Evil and scum, like you said. But I made my peace. Got nothing left. Except to say goodbye. So you can hate me, got no defense to that. And you got your piece to say to me, I ’spect. So be good for you to get it off your chest. See, that was the other reason I wanted you to come. What I done to you? Despicable. Wrong as wrong can be. You can tell me to go to hell. Where I’m headed anyway. Thought it might help you, you know, to move on.”

  “And why would you want that?” asked Reel.

  “Never done nothing for you in your whole damn life ’cept cause you pain. You think I don’t know that? This is my one shot to do something other’n that. That’s all.”

  “Why? To make you feel better about yourself?” barked Reel.

  “No, it’s to make you feel better ’bout yourself. So whale away, Sally, or whatever your name is. It’s your turn. Go on, girl.”

  “You think me screaming at you will come close to making things even?”

  “Ain’t no doubt about it. It won’t.” He paused to wave his hand around the prison ward and then over himself. “But it’s all I done got to give you.”

  Reel took a long breath and looked around. Everyone in the ward was staring at her and her father. She glanced at Robie to find his gaze on her. The expression in his eyes was unreadable. She looked back at Earl.

  “I thought a lot about what I would say to you.”