by Van Torrey
As soon as they finished dinner, Gamma and Miss Joon completed their charade by leaving the restaurant together, entering an elevator, and going to Miss Joon’s room, where Gamma stayed for thirty minutes before exiting the floor via a freight elevator. He slipped out a back entrance of the hotel where Peggy was waiting to whisk him to the safe house. The most cynical skeptic observing, even eavesdropping on the conversation of Gamma and Miss Joon during the evening, and following their movements later, would be hard pressed to find anything out of the ordinary to cast suspicion on Gamma as anything other than an Asian banker with a beautiful wife.
*
At a little before ten o’clock the next day Gamma and Peggy left the safe house and drove to the mall, where they parked in the crowded parking garage. Peggy, dressed in business casual attire with a large handbag and matching heels, strode to the mall entrance leaving Gamma to read a newspaper, hiding is face from casual onlookers. At precisely ten-fifteen Peggy walked in to Victoria’s Secret, picked out a pair of pajamas as she made eye-contact with Miss Joon. After paying cash with Canadian money she walked slowly out of the store. Miss Joon followed a short distance behind. In less than ten minutes the three of them were on the busy freeway headed for the office of the Korean Consul.
The Korean Consul, Mr. H.K. Roo, was a greying, fiftyish looking man very obviously an ethnic Korean. He had clearly been westernized by virtue of his long residence in Vancouver. Roo had gained his coveted consular status, an honorary civilian position being a semi-official diplomat, but well below Ambassador status, by carefully cultivating his family’s political connections in Seoul and establishing himself as a social and cultural leader within the Korean expatriate community in Vancouver. Foreign consulates were typically located in principal cities other than the capital of a foreign state, and the consul’s duties were to assist their compatriots traveling in the area in matters of facilitating commerce, travel, and mutual friendship. It was soon evident that Mr. Lee’s visit this morning fell precisely into the spirit of Mr. Roo’s official duties.
After the perfunctory introductions and serving tea, Mr. Roo asked how he could be of help to his guests, the Lees, who presented themselves confidently and spoke excellent English. “How may I help you this morning, Mr. Lee?” Consul Roo asked.
Miss Joon, stylishly dressed in a conservative dark business suit that nevertheless showed off her exceptional figure, was inwardly amused by Roo’s struggles to keep his remarks on subject as he attempted vainly to hide his leering glances at her. To Miss Joon, a college educated, second generation American, this assignment was nearly as much fun as playing her various characters in her college drama club, except the stakes were much higher. Hollywood would have to wait, she thought.
“Mr. Roo, please allow me to present my credentials,” Gamma spoke formally. “Here is a letter of introduction from my employer, Mr. Hugo Delagarde, the Executive Director of Banque Switzerland et Cie. It will explain that I am traveling in Canada with my wife attempting to meet potential clients for our bank. Mr. Delagarde is well known in international banking circles and we have many clients in North America... although we would prefer to have more,” as Lee laughed slightly.
The Consul also examined Gamma’s CIA supplied Swiss passport, showing he had recently traveled in North Korea. Although he did not make mention of this, he could not help but think this was a subtle message to his fellow Korean that he was exceptionally well connected, and Lee catalogued it for further reference.
“I am most interested in making contact with another Korean gentleman whom we met on a stopover at Haneda airport last week. We were traveling on different flights to Vancouver, and we agreed to meet at the airport when we landed. Unfortunately, our flight,” as Gamma explained as he looked briefly at Miss Joon, “was delayed and we arrived several hours late. My subsequent attempts to contact him through the information on his business card were not successful. He said he was going to be here in Vancouver for several days on business, and I am most anxious to meet him.”
“What business did he say he was in, Mr. Lee?” asked the Consul.
“Uranium. He has an interest in uranium mining,” replied Kim. “My bank is very interested in mining enterprises.”
Gamma presented the Consul with the business card of his imagined contact. “Perhaps you could use your network of contacts within the Korean community here to put the word out that I am most interested in making this contact,” he said, emphasizing the last sentence carefully.
“Well, of course, Mr. Kim. I shall be pleased to see if this gentleman can be located and made aware of your continued interest. But, how will this work? Community information travels in convoluted ways - a person knows a person, who knows a person - and does not always mean that an acknowledgment will be received by one who passes a message. How would you know to meet this gentleman if he got the message?”
“I’ve thought about that, Mr. Roo. My plan is to make myself available at the baggage carousels that service Korean Airlines at Vancouver International next Saturday at noon. I will stay there until one-thirty. If the gentleman will present himself during that time window, perhaps we can reconnect. I will be easy to find,” he said, smiling at Miss Joon, “My wife will be with me.”
“Somewhat unconventional, I would say,” replied the Consul cautiously, “but under the circumstances, it seems like a good idea.” As the conversation continued, consul Roo kept mulling over in his mind three significant facts coming from the meeting. Kim was an international banker who had recently visited the DPRK, and the party he wanted to contact had interests in uranium mining. Could these be connected in some sinister way?
“Mr. Roo, before my wife and I leave, I would like to impress on you the importance of my desire to make this connection. If, through your good offices, I can make this connection, I would certainly generously acknowledge your personal assistance...well beyond your official duties and courtesies,” added Gamma.
Although it would have seemed rude to discuss any specific amount, the Consul was sufficiently impressed by Mr. Lee and Miss Joon, as well as his purported connections, to understand such an acknowledgment probably meant at least five figures. Such a windfall would be enough to finance more than one of Roo’s several unsavory social interests he kept carefully hidden from his wife and professional peers.
Mr. Roo watched from his office window as Gamma and Miss Joon, walked down the steps of the consulate building and entered the waiting Mercedes driven by Peggy. Women such as her are drawn to men with prestigious positions and money, he thought. There are many such women in Vancouver and I may soon afford one.
Within the hour Consul Roo was working his contacts by telephone and email to put out the word that a certain Korean gentleman, Mr. Lee, with interests in banking and uranium mining, and who had recently travelled in North Korea was visiting Vancouver. He was most interested in reconnecting with another Korean whose contact was lost recently at the Vancouver airport.
For many, such information was of no interest whatsoever. But within three days, two significant and seemingly unrelated developments took place. Ibrahim al-Faisal received an anonymous text message on his cell phone - planted by a NSA technician - that the Korean nuclear technician they had been pursuing since the botched airport kidnapping was going to try again for his connection in the Vancouver airport the following Saturday. The other development was a man in a Korean market overheard a conversation between two Koreans about “a gentleman from North Korea who was interested in uranium was seeking to make a recently missed connection at the Vancouver airport next Saturday at midday.”
Park Man-soo immediately paid for his items and sprinted to the crash house where he and his other conspirators had been occupying for months. “Brothers, I have just heard what might be the break we have long been waiting for,” he said excitedly. “The nuclear technician that has been promised to us by Pyongyang has surfaced here in Vancouver! He will be at the airport at midday this Saturday. We mu
st not miss this chance to reconnect with him and place the plan in motion. We must not fail this time!”
A similar message had gone out from el-Faisal to his band of plotters. “I shall join you in two days to personally lead our efforts in capturing the Korean technician. With Allah’s help, we cannot fail.”
The trap was set. With Gamma’s character as bait, could the rats resist?
CHAPTER 34
HARD CANDY
“Chance favors the prepared mind.”
Louis Pasteur
*
Chance Lyon and his ad hoc team of intelligence and paramilitary professionals had barely a week to prepare their risk-infused, make-or-break plan. They would use Gamma as bait to identify the Korean nuclear bomb plotters, integrate Gamma into their midst as the final piece of the puzzle as the trusted bomb technician, and bring the rival plotters to ground to be dealt with separately. All this without making the Canadian authorities aware the operation was taking place clandestinely under their nose. If Chance and his team could pull this off, it would eclipse even the Iranian Nuclear Operation of many months ago, led by Chance Lyon’s SEAL team and Blackie Olyphant’s Army Ranger platoon, in its audacity and magnitude of threat denial to the national security of the United States and her Western allies. Now Chance and Blackie were private contractors, but the stakes were just as high and the risk-reward ratio was even greater.
Lyon outlined the mission over dinner Sunday with the team that would execute Operation Hard Candy. “We have to make some basic assumptions in order to make our plan work. All along the way we will try to insert escape points should the plan go wrong, but here is the mission statement outlined by the FBI-CIA project team who we’re working for.” Chance then opened the package of documents Peggy had retrieved from the clandestine mail drop the CIA used in Vancouver. Written on a plain piece of white paper with no letterhead was the following mission outline.
1. USING ASSET GAMMA AS A TARGET, INDUCE SUSPECT KOREAN NUCLEAR TERRORISTS (KNT) TO MAKE CONTACT WITH TARGET IN AN ENVIRONMENT CHOSEN AND CONTROLLED BY HARD CANDY OP. TEAM (HCOT). SITUATION PLAN WILL BE CONDUCIVE FOR GAMMA’S INTEGRATION INTO KNT WITH COVER AS A TECHNICIAN CAPABLE OF MAKING SUSPECT NUKE DEVICE DETONATABLE AT KNT’s CHOSEN SITE. 2. IN COOPERATION WITH GAMMA, HCOT IS TO PREVENT KNT FROM AFFECTING THEIR PLAN OF DEPLOYMENT AND DETONATION OF SUSPECT NUKE DEVICE. ALL KNT TEAM MEMBERS EXCEPT LEADER ARE EXPENDABLE. 3. UNDER SAME SCENARIO ATTEMPT TO BRING TO GROUND AND NEUTRALIZE ANY RIVAL GROUP(S) ATTEMPTING TO USURP KNT’s EFFORTS TOWARD DEPLOYING AND DETONATING SUSPECT NUKE DEVICE. ALL MEMBERS OF RIVAL GROUP(S) ARE EXPENDABLE WITH EXCEPTION OF LEADER SUSPECTED TO BE IBRAHIM AL-FAISAL (IAF). IAF IS TO BE REMANDED TO U.S. FBI-CIA PERSONNEL AT BEST POSSIBLE U.S. PORT OF ENTRY BY HCOT. 4. COMMANDER OF HCOT IS CHANCE LYON. DEPUTY CDR IS MAX JENKINS. 5. COMMANDER HAS THE DISCRETION TO USE ALL LETHAL FORCE NECESSARY. 6. U.S. AUTHORITY WILL DISAVOW ANY KNOWLEDGE OF THIS OP IF COMPROMISED. 7. USE OF JUNG JUNE-NI AS PART OF HCOT IS AUTHORIZED.
SIGNED: EVERGREEN FOREST
CODE: G2605WJ9KB
DESTROY
After reading the operations order, Peggy texted a number in the United States with a series of letters and numbers assigned to her by her CIA handler before she left for Canada. Five minutes later she received a text in return that said simply: G2605WJ9KB.
“Chance I believe this op order is authentic. Would you care to check the numbers with a second set of eyes?” said Peggy evenly. Chance glanced at Peggy’s phone and showed it to Max before handing it back. “I concur that we have a valid op order. Sounds like a lot of work for just five people. We’ll take a vote on using Miss Joon or turning her loose. The only ones who know her are Gamma and Peggy.”
General Kim immediately said, “Yes. She’s smart, has language skills and is vetted as a CIA covert agent. I vote yes!”
“I concur,” added Peggy. “Women can play this game, too.” she said with a wink. “Any woman like that who can make it through The Farm has to be tough. I think she’s solid. I know I’m junior to you all, but it sounds like we’re going to need the help.”
“Without objection, I say we brief her in,” said Chance. “Peggy, you want to handle the logistics? I’ve never been trained in trade-craft like you people. Do we have room for her here?”
“She can bunk with me. My room has twin beds and an adjoining bath. I’ll pick her up and bring more groceries. What else?” asked Peggy.
“You all know the airport,” said Max. I’d like to recon the place to get the lay of the land and check out the baggage areas. I’ll use the second car so you are not immobile.”
“One final thing, everyone. I think you all saw item six of the op. order. We’re on our own...but that shouldn’t be anything new to any of us. It’s reality in the program and what we signed up for,” Chance finished evenly.
*
Ibrahim al-Faisal looked at his cell phone while sitting in a classroom at a mosque in Portland. A notification tone had made him aware of an incoming text.
KOREAN MALE WE HAVE BEEN SEEKING WILL BE AT YVR KAL BAGGAGE CAROUSEL NOON TO 1330 SATURDAY. RIPE FOR TAKING.
KHALID.
Al-Faisal was perplexed by the simplicity and the anonymity of the message. While the information seemed too good to be true, and perhaps even a gift from Allah, al-Faisal knew many ‘Khalids’ but none involved in this mission. If true, this was the opportunity he and his team had been desperately searching for, and it could not be discounted. But who was Khalid, where was he, and what was his source of this vital intel?
The technical experts at NSA were masters of deceit and had created a fictitious number from which the bogus text had been sent, knowing that al-Faisal would want confirmation of its authenticity.
After several minutes of thinking about the potential source of the text, al-Faisal returned the text:
WHO ARE YOU? HOW DO YOU KNOW THIS? MUST CONFIRM.
Ten minutes passed and al-Faisal heard nothing. He was beginning to smell a hoax, but a dangerous one, as the sender knew of his recent activities. But how? That was key. He checked the area code of the text... Vancouver, B.C.
INTEL FROM RELIABLE SOURCES.
DO NOT MISS THIS OPPORTUNITY. WE ARE SILENT BACK-UP FORCE TO ASSIST YOU IF YOU NEED HELP. A.A.
KHALID.
The al-Qaeda network was a hydra with many heads and al-Faisal, influential as he was, was one of many tentacles operating in North America and the West, attempting to consolidate resources that could be used to strike at a time of the leadership’s choosing. There are many ethnic Middle-Easterners living in Vancouver. It would be foolish for me to assume that some of them were not connected to the network. And ‘A.A.’ - what did that mean? Perhaps Allah Akbar? I cannot dismiss this out of hand, reasoned Faisal.
Al-Faisal considered all his options. His standing instructions were to communicate only by dropping hand-written notes to his handler at a public park in San Francisco by a pre-arranged non-electronic signal. There was no time for that, and texting, emailing, or calling was only to be done in an extreme emergency. Contact with Farid was only to be one-way, so trying to contact Farid for clarification was not possible. Al-Faisal continued his analysis. This was not an emergency - only a possible opportunity to nab the Korean technician who would know the location of the bomb...or not. But having the technician in hand was a major piece of the puzzle, and he might know much more that could lead them to the bomb. Besides, if they could collect the technician, they might also grab one of the Korean plotters, and he could possibly lead them to the bomb. Both groups needed the technician and al-Faisal was determined to win this round with his adversaries.
Within an hour al-Faisal was on his cell phone to Mohammad Khalil, his leader of the Islamist group in Vancouver. “Mohammad, I have startling news...very good news for us. I have been informed by my superiors that the man we have been seeking has been located. We know where he will be Saturday with his ethnic brothers. We will be there to snatch him from their grasp, as well as one or mor
e of his brothers. I want you to assemble the group at the warehouse and await my arrival tomorrow afternoon after sixteen hundred. I will give you more information at that time. Do you understand?”
“Yes,...yes!” said Khalil with an outburst of relief. Khalil had been dreading another call from the angry Iranian asking him for a progress report. Now I can relax and wait for al-Faisal to lead this frustrating search, he thought.
*
Like the broadening spread of fluid over a smooth surface after a spill, the word of a mysterious Korean man seeking to make a lost connection gradually but inexorably spread throughout the city’s expatriate Korean community, fueled by Consul Roo’s large network of social and business contacts. Nearly all the leading members of that community either knew, or knew of, Mr. Roo. Any word from his office was listened to with some degree or another by nearly everyone around Vancouver who had an interest in Korean events. The fact that the Korean peninsula was bitterly divided politically, militarily, and socially, providing the tinder for a flashpoint of violent strife that could impact individuals and families even thousands of miles away, was reason for any news from the grapevine to be of interest. Mr. Roo, as an official diplomat, was considered to be the bearer of factual information relating to all Koreans.
The members of Park Man-soo’s terrorist group were startled by the exciting news that he had overheard in the Koran market. They had waited for months in a dilapidated warehouse in the backwaters of one of the many inlets along Vancouver Harbor for a signal from those in North Korea who had sent them on their mission. They had been told a technician would be sent from the DPRK military who had the software codes and the additional expertise to arm and detonate the nuclear device that lay carefully hidden under piles of detritus incidental to years of marine activity by various occupants of the two-story building. The North Koreans were all former members of the DPRK military and were accustomed to hardship. They had been stoical about waiting for the person to assist them in moving the project forward to its inevitable conclusion. Now they would make the Americans pay for their humiliating belligerency of North Korea since the armistice agreement of 1953.