Hollow Point

by Rawlin Cash

  "They've moved up the execution date of the President," he said. "It looks like it is going to happen tomorrow night. It seems that Chinese leadership is influencing this decision a little bit."

  "You can see all that?" Hunter said.

  Yong furiously clicked away at his computer. He looked up at Hunter. "Now that I am in the network, I can see everything. It's why we needed to go to the comm station. I wasn't lying."

  Hunter nodded.

  He actually didn't mind hearing that he had less than twenty-four hours to rescue the President. He could feel his mind slipping. It'd been almost two days since his last hit of G-12. He didn't know if he was going to be able to hold on for much longer.

  He closed his eyes and tried not to think of any of it.

  All he had to do was get to the President.

  All he had to do was hold on for a little bit longer.

  Fifty-Four

  The cafe was called Diplamitico. It was an Italian joint located close to the Canadian Embassy in the heart of DC. Fawn picked it as her meeting spot with Hank. She wasn't sure if she could fully trust him, but he'd done a good job with Hunter in Amsterdam and Hunter seemed to think that he was trustworthy. That would have to be good enough for her.

  She watched a Salvation Army Santa Claus outside the cafe window. Across the street from him was a group of carolers serenading shoppers in the busy district. A rare snowfall had made downtown DC look even more Christmas-y than usual. It made Fawn smile.

  Hank burst through the cafe's doors like a clutz and walked up to the barista standing at the booth. He made his order and then scanned the place, looking for Fawn. When he spotted her, he walked over and plopped himself down. His dark black hair was covered in snowflakes.

  "I fucking hate the winter," he said. His cheeks were rosy, and he wheezed.

  "It's a nice time of the year," Fawn said. "Especially if you have a family."

  "Which is why I hate it.”

  She watched a mother and a daughter shop together across the street. The young girl was so small and held her mother's hand so tightly that it made Fawn sigh. Hank noticed Fawn's expression and shook his head.

  "I did what you told me," he said. "I sent the transcripts to every major news network in the country. It's only a matter of time before the world knows how much of a creep the Vice President is. Hell, it might be the scandal of the century, although I doubt it."

  "That's great! Wait, what do you mean you doubt it? We have proof that the military is ready to act, and the Vice President is holding them back. We have everything we need to get the CIA to act. We have everything we need to get the Vice President to send the troops in there."

  Hank chuckled and sipped his hot chocolate. "It's DC, kid. You knew Jeff Hale, right? The old director."

  Fawn nodded. "I was very close to him."

  "Funny, me, too," Hank said. "Anyway, the thing is, Jeff always thought he was the one in control. Always. He thought his position at the CIA, and then... did you hear they made him the NSA before he croaked?"

  Fawn nodded again.

  "Anyway, the point is, they'll find a way to cover this up."

  "Who's they?"

  "They. Them. The big guys. The billionaires who control this fucking country."

  "You sound cynical?"

  "I'm just being serious," Hank said. "As soon as I heard that the Vice President was going to let China take care of the situation in North Korea... well, it became clear as day. Big money is at play. China is making a power move."

  "You sound like a conspiracy theorist," Fawn said. "Why would China want anything to do with North Korea."

  "Maybe for stability? Maybe for control? Who knows, either way, China wants to control the continent of Asia, and North Korea is probably their first target."

  Fawn brushed off Hank's conspiracy. She wouldn't believe it. Her plan had to work otherwise... She drifted off in thought. She didn't want to admit it, but she didn't have faith in Hunter. She didn't believe he was going to be able to do what he needed to do.

  The two sat at the booth in silence.

  Fawn drifted off in thought again. She stared out the window of the cafe.

  Hank caught her staring at the mother and daughter again.

  "You want a family, eh?" he said.

  "No," she said.

  "Yes, you do. Don't lie. I've seen that look in a woman's eyes before. That yearning for a nest."

  "I'm not a damn bird. I don't want a nest," Fawn said.

  Hank chuckled. "I get it," he said. "I'm a bit older than you, and there was a time I thought about getting out. I thought about finding a life outside of all of this shit. That time is gone, though. Long gone. I'm too fucking indebted to too many people." He laughed and sipped his hot chocolate.

  "What do you mean?" Fawn said.

  Hank shook his head. "It's nothing," he said. "All I mean is that if you want out, get out while you can. Yes, you're the Deputy Director of Paramilitary Black-Ops… Yes, it won't be easy to just get up and leave. But I promise you this, and… look me in the eyes when I tell you this… I promise you that it will be even more difficult one year from now, regardless of whether Jack succeeds or not. You need to be careful, Fawn. The longer you stay in there, the harder it will be to get out."

  Fawn didn't like the way the conversation had turned. She sipped her coffee slowly and did her best not to look out the window again. Even though she was Hank's superior at Langley, she didn't want to be lectured by him.

  "Holy shit," Hank said.

  Fawn looked up from her coffee. "What is it?"

  "Look. Your leak is being reported. Maybe..." he drifted off.

  Fawn looked up at the television strung to the ceiling of the coffee shop. She listened carefully to what the news anchor was reporting.

  "This is Brian Chaz reporting for CNN. We have breaking news to report as CNN has come into the position of a special, unverified report from a special source within Washington. The nature of the report, while shocking, is being doubted by our fact-checkers. According to the report: members of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, those in the Navy, Army, and Air Force are upset with the Vice President's lack of action on the crisis in North Korea. We'll have more at six."

  Fawn gripped the paper coffee cup so hard she crushed it. She wanted to scream. She could feel the blood pounding through her veins. She'd given them detailed transcripts. She'd made sure that the media had the receipts they needed to confirm that they were legitimate. Why the hell were they reporting it like it was something unverified? Why were they making it sound like they'd been given it from the hands of some conspiracy theorist?

  As her coffee spilled out on the table, Hank did his best to clean up the mess. He grabbed some napkins and soaked up what he could. He waved the waitress away and told her he'd take care of it when she tried to help.

  Once it was relatively cleaned up, he looked at Fawn. "You okay?" he said.

  "No."

  "You're finally getting it, eh? There's no winning. You are a fucking Deputy Director at the CIA, and you have no control. You are at the mercy of forces way beyond your control. The wheels in motion won't stop spinning because you release some secret document. The media is in cahoots with those in power. The narrative, the message they put out, is the message that they want to put out. The truth doesn't matter. You want to make a difference, well... you need a weapon, you need a bullet... and you need someone to fire it."

  Fawn shook her head. "I'm sorry about the coffee," she said.

  "Don't worry about it," Hank said.

  "The old CIA Director, Jeff Hale, he was way better at this than I ever was. I wish he was here right now. While he was no saint, he knew how to manipulate the media."

  Hank chuckled. "He was a son-of-a-bitch."

  "Yeah, but now he's dead," Fawn said. "A heart attack. Knowing my luck, I won't even make it to my sixties before my heart gives out."

  "Stop being so dramatic," Hank said. "The more you complain, the more you soun
d like him." He chuckled. "I'll get you another coffee."

  He got up from the booth and made his way to the counter to order Fawn another coffee. She smiled. It was nice to have someone like Hank in her life. She missed human connection. She missed being able to share her frustrations with those around her. Perhaps that had been her problem. Ever since she'd become Deputy Director, she'd closed herself off. She put up a front to those around her and tried to make it look like she was impervious to doubt.

  She'd doubted Hunter.

  She'd tried to fix it by leaking information to the press. She'd failed.

  Hunter was the only person she knew with any control at the moment.

  And he was alone in a foreign country and with a broken mind.

  Fifty-Five

  The sun rose over the horizon as the fires from the town simmered. A thick grey smoke covered the village. There was an eerie silence to it.

  Kim and Yong spoke to the villagers, telling them that they could have everything inside the garage--the computers, the extra weapons, and ammo, everything. It was the least they could do, Yong said.

  When they were done speaking to the villagers, Hunter picked Yong up and carried him to the Hind D.

  Yong was distraught at seeing the destruction. He looked like a kid who discovered the truth about Santa and the Easter Bunny. The reality of the world he was trying to create was going to be ugly.

  Kim was a soldier, so he'd already seen some forms of depravity and despair. He'd been to the prisons in North Korea many times. He'd seen how bad it could get.

  At the helicopter, Hunter strapped Yong inside. Yong attached his computer to the helicopter and began furiously clicking away.

  "I can get the GPS device working inside the Hind D," Yong said. "According to wind speed and other data, we should be at the installation in less than four hours."

  "And when do they plan to kill the President?" Hunter asked. "Any update?"

  "According to internal KPA messages, sometime tonight."

  "So, we won't have a lot of time," Hunter said with a smirk.

  "No," Yong said. "And why is this funny?"

  "It's not," Hunter said. He shook his head. He was beginning to really regret answering his phone call in Nashville. If he failed, he knew he'd be held hostage and tortured.

  "I need help with the jet fuel!" Kim yelled.

  Hunter looked over at Kim and the three other Liberators. They were having difficultly pouring the fuel into the engine.

  "This your first time filling up a gas tank," Hunter said, walking over to them.

  "This isn't a gas tank!" Kim said. "It's a damned helicopter."

  Hunter laughed. He helped them finish the job and then performed a quick check to ensure that everything was alright with the bird.

  It looked good.

  Hunter and Kim climbed into the two pilots' seats in the Hind D.

  Hunter started the thing up.

  As the rotors soared, Hunter looked at the village of Wung.

  "How long before the military finds out about the death of the bitch?" he asked Yong.

  They were all wearing headsets to communicate.

  "I imagine they already know. She was the second highest ranked lieutenant in the entire army," Yong said. "When Woo doesn't hear from her, he'll grow suspicious."

  "Then that means they'll be looking for her,” Hunter said.

  "Yes," Yong said.

  "You need to tell these villagers to leave this town immediately. It won't be long before Woo sends an entire battalion this way."

  "I've already told them that," Yong said. "After everything that happened and everything they've done for us, it was the least I could do. Plus, there's nothing left for them here."

  "Good," Hunter said. "Then is everyone ready to go?"

  Kim, Yong, and the three Liberators grunted in affirmation.

  As the helicopter lifted off, Hunter looked down at the villagers of Wung below. They didn't deserve what they were living through. They were good people, just trying to do their best to get by. They were no different than ninety-percent of the people he'd met while traveling from town to town in the States. That was one thing Hunter had learned during all of his operations around the world. For the most part, people were the same everywhere he went. They just wanted peace and quiet. They just wanted to raise their family, give their kids a future, and die happy. It was the assholes in control that got in the way. They always seemed to find a way to highlight people's differences. They'd pit people against each other even though, at the end of the day, everyone just wanted the same damn thing.

  The people of North Korea had lived through layers of shit, compacted down on them from their leaders and the sanctions that foreign bodies had placed on their country. The fact that the folks in Wung didn't string him up and kill him right away told Hunter all he needed to know.

  They were good.

  They deserved better.

  Yong adjusted the GPS readout on the Hind D to show the direction Hunter needed to fly toward.

  North by northwest. Hunter would be within running distance of the President, and this long nightmare would be over.

  One way or another.

  Fifty-Six

  General Woo grew agitated by the second. First, the Chinese had asked him to speed up the execution, which he'd done by a couple hours, and now... now, he hadn't heard from his beloved Park in hours. The last report he'd heard was that the ping on the Hind D had stopped responding.

  Some of his lieutenants suggested that perhaps the helicopter had crashed in the mountainous region surrounding Wung. According to weather reports, an awful winter storm had struck the region during the night.

  Woo wouldn't believe it.

  Park was too good a pilot.

  He was sat at his long conference table. An empty bottle of Japanese whiskey in front of him, as were a sprawl of status updates from South Korean forces.

  Making matters worse was the bizarre broadcast sent through KPA military channels, informing officers to resign from their position and join a rebel faction called the Liberators.

  It felt like he was losing control of his military and country at the same time.

  Was his coup crumbling before his very eyes?

  Everything had gone to plan. Everything had been perfect.

  He'd done what the Chinese had instructed him to do.

  He felt confident that he had their support.

  He had been in control, but the tides of war shift quickly. It can be challenging to adjust, and Woo had to be honest with himself. He'd never really faced real combat before.

  He poured himself a big glass of whiskey and took a long sip.

  "You're an idiot," he said to himself. "You did this. You fucking did this. Your father was right about you. You will amount to nothing!"

  The only combat he'd ever faced was with angry villagers. He was accustomed to crushing dissent. He was used to feeling like the most powerful man in the room, but now... He was in over his head.

  He could feel something outside of his control going on.

  He just wasn't sure what it was.

  Bong-Hak walked into the room.

  "I just got word from the Chinese," he said. "Everything is ready for the execution tonight."

  "Any word from Park?"

  "No, sir."

  Woo grumbled to himself.

  "What's that, sir?"

  "Nothing."

  "Perhaps you should lay off the whiskey for a bit, sir," Bong-hak said, gesturing to the bottle of whiskey on the table.

  Woo looked up at him.

  "I'm beginning to think we're being played," he said.

  Bong-hak shook his head. "What do you mean?"

  "I don't think the Chinese want to help us. I think this is... I think I am a fool."

  "Don't be silly," Bong-hak said. "You have the US President. You are the new Supreme Leader of our nation. You are a great and powerful man."

  "Shut up," Woo said. "Why would the Chinese
want me to expedite the assassination?"

  "Perhaps it is like you theorized," Bong-hak said. "Perhaps they want to see that you have the nerve to pull it off."

  "I killed the Supreme Leader of our great nation," Woo said. "I have the nerve."

  "You should just do what they say," Bong-hak said. "We're too committed now. We've gone too far. We need their help. If not for them, we'd been invaded by South Korea and the Americans by now."

  Woo grumbled again and emptied the rest of his bottle into his glass.

  He shot it back.

  Bong-hak stared at him nervously.

  "The Chinese said they would support us, but we're the ones doing all the damned work."

  "You still have yet to assassinate the President," Bong-Hak said. "Once he is dead, I am sure they will hold up their end of the bargain."

  "But what if they don't? What if our Chinese allies have been lying to us this whole time? What if it all comes tumbling down before my very eyes, and I was just a useful pawn? A piece that the Chinese President was moving along some game board. What if they assassinate me?"

  As he said it, Woo looked at his own pieces on the board. Small figures representing placements of troops, vehicles, equipment. It was all just a game.

  "You shouldn't be so hard on yourself, sir," Bong-hak said.

  Woo smiled. "Move along with the execution. I want to do it myself."

  "Sir," Bong-hak said. "That is not the plan."

  "Shut up! I will kill the President myself! I want some control in this situation! I want some agency!"

  Bong-hak nodded. "Yes, sir."

  "Oh," Woo shouted. "And get me another bottle of whiskey!"

  Fifty-Seven

  Margot walked out of Gatwick airport and hailed a taxi cab. It was raining. Typical English weather, she thought. She missed it. Washington had been too cold, and Hawaii had been too hot. It felt good to be in the UK again.

  It'd been too long.

  She was eager to provide her superiors at MI6 an update. She'd been following the news during her whole flight from Hawaii. The Chinese were still apparently in negotiation with the Vice President about the best course of action.