by Laura Scott
“I have plenty of cash and prepaid credit cards.”
It didn’t take long to pay for parking and to find an empty spot to leave the vehicle. With a sweeping gaze, she memorized where they’d left the car. “Let’s take the stairs down,” she suggested.
Slinging the computer bag over his shoulder, Mack nodded, apparently having the same aversion to small enclosed spaces that made fighting for your life more difficult, and followed her down the six floors to the ground level.
“Going up won’t be nearly as fun,” Mack muttered.
His grousing made her smile. “Bet you a buck I’ll beat you when it’s time to head up.”
“You’re on. I’ll win even with carrying the computer.” He turned and walked toward the Ironshore condos. “There must be a coffee place around here somewhere.”
She silently agreed with the plan of ingesting caffeine. The brief nap at the motel had only made her more tired. “Over there, a few blocks down, see it?”
“Yeah. Let’s go.” He cupped his hand beneath her elbow, keeping a hold on her as she dodged pedestrians who were also up at this crazy early hour. As they walked past the condo, she noticed a guy dressed in a business suit coming out through the front door, staring at his phone while he walked.
Of course, he didn’t look familiar, and why would he? There were thousands of government employees, and this jaunt wasn’t likely to yield anything useful.
But since they couldn’t even arrange a meeting with Ian Chandler yet, there was no harm in hanging out at the coffee shop for a bit. She’d call Jordan to see if he could smooth the way to getting a sit-down with Chandler.
Jordan was better at cutting through political red tape than she was. And after his recent success in foiling a terrorist attack back in September, he was very connected within the bureau. Yates raved about their work, which helped them get more jobs. However, none quite as frustrating as this one.
Her thoughts spiraled right back to the North Korean regime and the threat against her mother that Mack had learned about.
Sun wished there was a way to track down her mother and keep her safe. Should she try the phone number again? There was no guarantee her mother was in Geneva any longer. Her mother never stayed in one place for long.
Could she leave Jordan and Yates while there was a nuclear threat here in DC?
No. Despite the fact that she was half Korean, she was also a citizen of the United States.
There was no way could she turn her back on her country. Especially when she had no way of knowing where to find her mother. She could be anywhere. It was maddening to feel so helpless.
Mack held the door of the coffee shop open for her. The blast of warm air was a welcome relief from the frigid temperatures.
“Still drink your coffee with cream and sugar?” Mack asked as he led the way to a small table overlooking the street.
“Yes.” She slid onto the high stool and took the computer case from his hand. “Thanks.”
Mack returned a few minutes later with two large coffees. He dropped small containers of creamer on the table, along with several packets of sugar. She knew he preferred his coffee black and had no idea how he managed to drink the stuff without doctoring it up.
“How much longer before we can ask Jordan to set up something with Chandler?” Mack asked, taking a cautious sip of the steaming brew.
“It’s just six in the morning,” she pointed out. “This little foray to Capitol Hill was your idea, remember?”
“I’m aware,” he responded dryly. “And I still think that the phone pinging off this tower is a good lead.”
“Half of Congress along with judges and other rich people live here, so the only thing we know for sure is that whoever hired the assailant is connected to people in power.” She sent Jordan a text, asking for a call when he had time.
The coffee shop had a fair amount of pedestrian traffic, and almost everyone wore business attire. She and Mack stood out among them, which probably wasn’t good. At least they had their winter coats, but the jeans and fleece she wore beneath was a sure sign she wasn’t heading off to work at the Capitol or the courthouse.
“We should move to a new location rather than hanging out here for too long,” she said in a low voice.
“Feeling underdressed?” Mack drained the rest of his coffee. “Okay, let me use the restroom first.”
Her phone buzzed with an incoming text. Jordan, telling her to call him. “Hey, Jordan, thanks for getting in touch.”
“Made any progress?”
She grimaced, eyeing the customers coming and going from the café. “Nothing other than the disposable cell pinged off a tower located in Capitol Hill.”
There was a brief pause. “Isn’t that interesting?”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, but not helpful. I need you to set up a meeting with Chandler.”
Another pause. “You think that’s necessary?”
“I don’t have any better ideas, do you?” She watched Mack make his way through the crowd toward her. “We’re grasping at straws here, Jordan. The sooner we can meet with Chandler the better.”
“Okay.” He sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks.” She disconnected from the call, grabbed the computer case, and rose to meet Mack. “That was Jordan. He thinks the lead connecting the disposable phone to this tower is interesting and is working on setting up a meeting with Chandler.”
“Good. Let’s go.” Mack rested his hand in the small of her back, urging her out of the café.
“What is it?” she asked when they were safely outside and away from the others.
Mack darted a look over his shoulder. “A guy uttered a phrase in North Korean as he entered the men’s room.”
Her jaw dropped. “What?”
“He stopped talking when he saw me, but I know what I heard.” Mack glanced at her. “He was clearly upset, but what was even more interesting was that he didn’t look North Korean, he looked American.”
American? That was definitely unusual. Most Americans didn’t speak North Korean, and those who were fluent in another language gravitated toward Spanish, French, Italian, and even Russian.
Not a dialect from North Korea.
“And you’re sure about that,” she said, trying to wrap her mind around the information.
“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Could be a coincidence.”
“You know it’s not.” Sun didn’t believe in them. Especially not an American who could speak North Korean. Who could it be?
Mack could, but he was part of the Mensa program, picking up languages without breaking a sweat, while she’d learned initially from her mother years ago.
The phone call pinging off the cell tower here was a key to the puzzle.
Too bad she had no idea where to go from here.
* * *
January 19 – 6:22 a.m. – London, England
Hana huddled near a group of young people as they left the TSA checkpoint and walked to the gate where her connecting flight would take her to Chicago.
She’d caught a glimpse of the North Korean in one of the lines going through customs, but then lost him. Since he wasn’t a tall man, she found it difficult to keep him in sight.
Of course, her slight stature worked in her favor too. Especially as she walked hunched over. She’d inwardly debated on changing her appearance again but knew that such a plan would make it more difficult for her to get through customs in Chicago. Her current and expertly altered face matched that of her fake passport.
No, far better to keep the current disguise intact. The Heathrow Airport was large and had lots of people. Difficult to believe she’d been followed all the way to her gate.
Yet it was all she could do to keep the panic fluttering beneath the surface from showing on her features. She’d lost her kind stranger to a different flight, and she desperately searched for another lone traveler she could possibly chat with.
Anything to make her appear as if she were traveling with a compa
nion rather than alone.
She dropped heavily into the empty seat next to a middle-aged couple. Minutes later, she heard the announcement that her flight was preparing to board.
“That was close,” she said, glancing at the woman beside her. “You’d think they’d give us more time to get through customs.”
“That’s exactly what I told my husband, George.” The woman elbowed the potbellied man beside her. “It was worth all the aggravation, though, our cruise was amazing.”
Oh good, a chatty Cathy. Hana smiled. “How nice! Where did you go?”
The woman went into a long discussion of the countries they’d visited in the northern Baltic, including St. Petersburg, Russia. Hana feigned interest even as she subtly scanned the area searching for the North Korean. “Oh my, that sounds wonderful,” she gushed when the woman finished.
“Come on, Sue, time to board.” The potbellied man stood and offered his arm. Sue took it, and Hana rose to her feet as well, following them as they went over to stand in line.
There was no sign of the North Korean, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t nearby. It could be that he felt it was better to attack once she’d reached her final destination than risk being caught by TSA security within an airport.
The boarding process was arduous, but finally she was in her seat, once again at the window.
She continued searching for the Korean, but the plane was huge, one of those jumbo jets, and there was no way to keep track of everyone coming on board.
Yet the prickly feeling continued to nag at her.
Had she made the right decision to go to Chicago? Or should she have gone straight to the source of the problem?
Hana closed her eyes and silently prayed.
Please, God, please keep me and Sun safe from harm!
Chapter Nine
January 19 – 6:43 a.m. – Washington, DC
As they walked away from the coffee shop, Mack’s eidetic memory replayed the fragment of North Korean he’d heard while in the restroom.
Je sigan-e oji anh-eumyeon bobog halge.
Which roughly translated meant something along the lines of Be on time or I’ll retaliate.
Be on time for what? And who had the American been talking to?
Like Sun, he didn’t believe in coincidences. Now that they were safe in the crowd of people, he glanced around, trying to identify the American he’d overheard speaking in North Korean.
Picking up on his intent, Sun asked in a low voice, “Do you see him?”
“No.” He’d wanted to get out of the coffee shop so they wouldn’t be recognized, but now he thought that may have been a mistake. Following the guy might give them something to go on. Then he caught a glimpse of the familiar features. “There, guy with blond hair wearing a dark suit, navy blue tie, and wearing a black trench coat. He just left the café and is headed in the opposite direction. See him?”
“Yes. Let’s split up and follow from different angles.” As soon as she’d spoken, Sun veered off and crossed the road so she could follow from that side. Which left Mack to tail the guy from directly behind him.
Without earpieces and radios to communicate, he and Sun would have to rely on hand signals. Keeping his gaze focused on the blond head while dodging the other pedestrians on the sidewalk wasn’t easy. He risked a glance at Sun who waved her index finger toward the right, meaning their target had turned right at the next intersection.
Mack quickened his pace in an attempt to keep up. Sun was still on the opposite side of the street, so it would take her longer to do the same.
He soon realized the blond was headed toward the Capitol. Which meant he was likely a congressman or a state representative or a state senator.
None of those possibilities was remotely reassuring.
Without missing a beat, Mack continued to discretely follow the blond, wishing he’d gotten a better look at his face. But as the blond had been talking on the phone, the glimpse he’d gotten wasn’t enough to form a super clear picture in his head.
Although he might be able to pick him out of a photo array. If the guy was indeed a member of Congress and not some aide.
Sun was closing the gap from the other side of the street. He frowned, not liking the fact that she was getting so close to the guy, then realized she wanted to get a look at his face too. In fact, she got close enough to touch him, but of course, she didn’t. Instead, she passed him up, then quickly glanced over her shoulder.
From there, she pulled out her phone and turned away from the blond man. Mack couldn’t hear anything, so he wasn’t sure if the call was real or something she’d made up to avoid going all the way up and into the Capitol.
The blond guy disappeared inside the building. Mack hastened to reach Sun. She had already put the phone back in her coat pocket. “Did you get a good look at him?” Mack asked.
“Yes, but I didn’t recognize him.” She turned and walked toward the street. “Jordan called, we have a meeting with Chandler at eight thirty.”
So the phone call was real. “That’s good. Where are we going to meet with him?”
“Jordan suggested neutral territory, so I figured we’d meet at the coffee shop.”
Mack frowned. “The one we just left?”
“Yes, why?”
“I don’t know . . .” He wasn’t sure how to articulate his concern. It wasn’t as if the coffee shop was some hot bed of North Koreans looking to bomb the US. Other than the American blond guy who spoke the language, there had been nothing suspicious about the place.
“We can pick another meeting location,” Sun said. “I know we don’t want to stay in one place for long. It just popped into my head when Jordan asked.”
He shook his head. “No, it’s fine. I’m being ridiculously paranoid, that’s all.”
Sun lightly rested her hand on his arm. “After everything we’ve been through, you’re entitled to a bit of paranoia.”
He wanted to pull her into his arms and crush her close, which was completely inappropriate. Just because he’d allowed himself to become emotionally involved with her didn’t mean Sun felt the same way.
In fact, he’d always gotten the impression she’d rather fight and spar with him than share anything as intimate as an embrace.
“Mack?” Sun’s melodic voice saying his name was not helping.
“What?” His hoarse voice betrayed his awareness.
“Are you sure you’re okay with returning to the coffee shop?” Sun eyed him curiously as if trying to understand what was going on in his mind.
Better she not realize where his thoughts had gone. “No, let’s find a new place, there seem to be plenty of them around. We can go back closer to the meeting time. I’m anxious to see if we can pick the blond out among the members of Congress.”
“Good plan,” Sun agreed. They stopped at a coffee shop that was only six blocks from their previous one.
The new place was busy, too, so they had to wait several minutes before a table opened up. And even then, Mack had to rush to grab it before someone else could.
While Sun booted up the sat computer, he went back to order more coffee and a couple of breakfast sandwiches. May as well eat while they were there.
With food and coffee in hand, he slid onto the stool across from Sun. “Find anything yet?” he asked, handing her a coffee and sandwich.
She looked up with a grimace. “Not yet, I’m a third of the way through everyone on the Congress.gov website.”
He took a bite of his sandwich. “Take a break to eat something. The website will still be there, and it shouldn’t take long to get through the photos.”
“I’m looking at all of them, just in case the guy dyed his hair or something.” She shrugged and pushed the computer aside to reach for her sandwich. “Thanks for breakfast.”
“You’re welcome.”
She was silent for several moments before saying, “We need a list of questions to ask Chandler when he gets here.”
“Okay, I can wo
rk on that from a tech perspective while you search for our Korean-speaking dude.”
Sun finished her meal and took a sip of coffee. “I hope we’re on the right track here.”
He nodded. “Me too. But it’s all we have to go on for the moment.”
“I know.” With grim resolve, she pulled the computer close and began clicking through the photos.
He watched her for a moment before formulating a list of questions in his head. They desperately needed something more to go on, and soon.
Or they’d never find the nuclear bomb in time to prevent another world war.
* * *
January 19 – 7:19 a.m. – Chicago, IL
Jarek abruptly woke to the slam of a door and the sound of someone talking loudly on a cell phone somewhere outside his room. For several moments he lay frozen, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. Then the sensation eased. Now that a hint of daylight could be seen around the edges of the grimy hotel room curtain, he didn’t feel as afraid as he’d been the first time a noise had awoken him.
Or maybe it was just sheer exhaustion that made it impossible for him to feel anything. A man could only take so much. He hadn’t gone this long without sleep since his college days, and he was far too old to be pulling all-nighters now.
Moving stiffly, as if he’d aged twelve years in the past twelve hours, he tried to straighten his wrinkled clothes as he made his way into the bathroom. His stomach was growling, and his head ached, likely from lack of sleep and caffeine.
In the bright light of day, his idea of buying a gun from his neighbor seemed ludicrous. If he showed up looking the way he did now, his neighbor would likely call the police and have him arrested.
He needed food, coffee, and clean clothes to wear. Oh, and a vehicle of some sort would be nice. But he didn’t dare return to the airport for his car, so once again using a taxi service would have to do.
After a long hot shower, he felt marginally more human. Checking the closet, he was surprised to find an iron and board stored inside. Gratefully, he began to iron the wrinkles out of his clothing. As he worked, he considered paying for another night’s stay. Being here in the anonymous hotel room was the safest he’d felt in what seemed like forever, and he truly didn’t want to head out into the real world.