A Northern Thunder (33 page)

As the crowd merged through the doors, Rei saw an older woman, surrounded by three young men dressed like the other security men. He immediately recognized her face. It was on the poster-sized photograph in his library.
I will be patient
, he thought,
and wait
.

All was to his advantage. Despite the security protection, the target was out of her element. The crowd gave him cover and opportunity. He slumped down in his seat, well to the rear of the balcony’s railing, but with a good view of the entire hall. She was seated in the fifth row of the orchestra section. As the orchestra played Beethoven, Rei leaned back, his hands together, feeling the bulk of the ornate ring against his palm, patiently devising his plan.

Just before the concert ended, Rei worked his way down to the hall’s main floor, spotting an empty seat near the rear wall and well in the dark. Shortly after he slipped into the seat, the lights came on and a rush of people converged toward the main exit. He remained seated, casually talking in fluent Japanese to the couple sitting next to him, suggesting that an ill family member had caused him to miss much of the concert. He purposely stayed, waiting and watching as she made her way up the center aisle by herself, her security waiting in the lobby.

Now
, he thought. He stood up, bowed to the couple, and did not turn toward the aisle until the last possible second. Then he moved toward the center, into the crowd just behind, and turned the ring around.

She was close—so close now he could smell her sweet floral perfume. He reached forward to touch her, but just as he did, a short, balding Japanese man stepped in front, pushing him back.

Damn
, he thought, as she got closer to the doors with a black-suited security guard directly ahead. Rei saw him smile at her and presumed she smiled back, knowing he would protect her.

Now is best
, he thought, sidestepping the balding man and nudging his shoulder next to hers.

The pin of the ring just brushed her arm, above the elbow, inflicting what felt like a mere scratch. She barely noticed it, no more than when one brushes against the lip of a counter and feels, ever so briefly, a rough, pointed edge. She walked a few more steps toward the man with the earpiece, felt a sudden crushing pain in her chest, and crumpled to the ground.

The crowd crushed up together, trying not to step on her. Others pushed forward, like drivers piling into one another while gawking at a stalled car on the shoulder. Rei knew what would happen now. He had no desire to stay and watch, and easily moved through the crowd and out onto the street.

Rei walked at a normal pace, as if in no hurry, passing by the entrance to the Marriott Hotel. He had planned to abandon what few clothes he had in his room. It would be too great a risk for him to be seen leaving the hotel with a bag shortly after the concert. A day later, the housekeeping crew would report that his bed had not been slept in the previous night. By that point, Rei knew it would not matter.

The few others who first made it out of the auditorium walked on without knowledge of anything wrong. En route to the Kinshicho station, Rei, still on foot, merged with the smaller crowd, passing the lights of several department stores and the brighter, honky-tonk-like atmosphere of the Pachinko Ginza Parlors. Noisy, flashing lights from these gambling halls lined the street toward the train station.

Rei pulled up his coat collar, blocking the cold wind, and moved with the crowd into the station. He smiled as he passed his transit card, already paid for, through the gate.

It’s over
, he thought, satisfied that his final mission had been accomplished.

He didn’t take the next train to Narita. Instead, he took the blue line, back toward Tokyo station. There, he moved quickly up the stairs, through the crush of people and several hallways, to a down escalator marked “Narita Express.” Rei had already reserved a seat on several of the express trains, across a spread of times, to best coincide with when he thought he would escape. On the second train, he had a window seat.

As it left Tokyo station, the Narita Express built up such speed that Rei could hear the wind whistle in the connectors between the cars. He leaned back and closed his eyes until he felt the car brake. Above the train, he saw the high rise of the Kimshicho Tobu Marriott and, looking forward, the lights of the Kimshicho station he had left only shortly before. The station’s several platforms were now covered with police talking to every traveler. Many of the male travelers were dressed in tuxedos, and the women in long gowns.

Rei watched as the Narita Express slowed but did not stop. Several of the police officers looked up at the Express, never realizing that behind those windows was the man they were looking for.

• • •

“Tom?”

“Yeah?” Pope’s voice sounded drugged with sleep. He had left the SIOC’s center only a few hours before, another grueling sixteen-hour day behind him.

“This is Mac Howard.”

“Yeah, Mac.”

Howard, who worked the SIOC’s graveyard shift, was in the loop on Pope’s operation. “No need to send the team,” he said.

“Oh?” said Tom. He had wondered whether they might be too slow responding to the lead in Japan.

“Dr. Aoano died of what appeared to be a heart attack at a concert in Tokyo earlier today.”

“Damn! I thought she was in Wako,” said Tom.

“She was apparently at a conference in Tokyo. He somehow eluded her security.”

“Do they have anything?”

“Not much. A couple spoke of a man in his thirties, Asian, fluent Japanese, at the concert by himself,” said Howard.

“Yeah?”

“Seems he took a seat only a few minutes before the concert ended. That’s why they remembered him.”

“Are the Japanese going to get a sketch of him?” said Tom.

“Yes, sir.”

“They need to watch the major portals.”

“They are, but he had a couple hours’ lead,” said Howard. “Apparently, the couple told one officer right away about their suspicions, but he was interviewing several people and did not report it up the line for a while.”

“Okay, I’ll be in.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now.”

T
he prevailing winds drove the snow toward shore with such force that Will could barely make out the facemask of Kevin Moncrief as he submerged himself beneath the water. He held his hand out just above his eyes, blocking the power of the wind and the cold, icy spray. Finally, after Moncrief ’s dark outline disappeared, Will turned away from the wind and toward the mountains. As he turned, he glanced at his watch. It showed 0336.

Only an hour and a half to first daylight
, he thought. As he twisted around, a large boulder separated him from the beach and the ocean. His small tent was now almost completely white from the sticking snow. Will pulled the flap down and zipped it up almost to the top, leaving only a few inches open.

In the dull light, the water tumbling over the rocks at the streambed bottom appeared nearly black. Will moved slowly at first, allowing his eyes to adjust. He climbed onto the side of the streambed and underneath the gray, chipped concrete arch of the bridge. He moved silently, each step carefully placed. With time, he gradually built up his speed, moving from rock to rock. Soon, Will was climbing through a green pine forest as he followed the streambed up into the mountains above the beach.

They’re well-named
, Will thought as he scanned the span of jagged-tooth peaks extending both north and south. The Diamond Mountains of the Kumgang were as sharp-edged as brilliant stones.

After an hour, he stopped at an outcrop of rocks, noting that the stream went farther up into the mountains. Looking back, he saw the white caps of waves breaking on the rocks of the moon-shaped beach. It was from this vantage point that he could see the road as it followed the bay, off to the north and left. In the distance. he could see well the few lights of Wonsan.

As he looked to the south, the road turned, and there he saw the faint flicker of a dull yellow light. He stayed on the rocks for a while and gazed at it, until he realized that it seemed to blink on and off because of movement between him and the light. Only after staring for a few moments could Will make out the shape of the bunker and see the several North Korean guards surrounding it.

On a clear day
, Will thought,
Shane Stidham could have thrown a football from where we’d landed and struck the center of the guards
. As he adjusted the pack on his back and the shoulder holster holding the Type-64, Will looked at his watch to reconfirm his westward bearing. The watch told both time and direction. Feeling on his back the increased wind of the snowstorm, he flipped up the straps of the green and black backpack, tossing it over his right shoulder. He could feel all the pent-up energy of the past several weeks released. This was the beginning of a marathon for which he was ready.

It was shortly before the yellow gray hue of dawn’s light that Will crossed over the top of the mountain and found that the stream led into a small lake.
Better not move much during daylight
, he thought to himself. Will worked his way around the edge of the streambed and the lake to a large stand of pine trees clumped together. Sharp, jagged granite cliffs and peaks seemed to buffer all sound.

Below the cliffs, a forest of pine trees encircled the lake. He stopped, smelling the pine needles and whiffing the pine boughs as the snow continued to accumulate on the trees and boulders. He looked around at one particular boulder lodged next to the base of an ancient pine tree. Its trunk was the size of a pillar and could probably support a bridge. Between the rock and the tree was a small opening. There, Will shoved his second backpack, the one from Hawaii, and pulled himself in behind it. The Type-64 silencer stuck into his hip and he had to twist the weapon.
If I ever have to use this, I’m in deep shit
, he thought. He wiggled around so only his hooded head stuck out near the entrance to his sanctuary.

Will wasn’t tired, but forced himself to doze. Years ago in combat, he had trained himself to fall into a short sleep and to wake at a given hour, with one ear always open for sounds. He would look at his watch, think two hours, imagine the time to get up, and always wake near it. He was warm, dug in, and out of the snowstorm.

• • •

The second shift at the Executive Support Center had just begun when the door swung open and Krowl entered.

“Give me a status,” Krowl huffed as he pulled up a chair at the end of the table. One Air Force sergeant worked one computer terminal while a second worked another one nearby.

A young Air Force captain with a deep dimple in the center of his chin stood at attention. “Sir, I’m Captain Beardon and I have the second watch, sir.”

“Yes, so what’s the status?”

“Sir, Satellite USA37X has a fixed location on him presently in the Tae-back Mountains south of Wonsan.” The young captain pointed to a large screen on the right that showed a detailed map of the mountains. High in the mountain range was a small lake, and just to the side of the lake, two blinking, bright-blue X’s crossed virtually on top of each other. A thin diagonal blue line extended from each of the X’s, which were marked X-1 and X-2. “Yes, sir, he’s been stationary at that position now for six hours. It’ll be getting dark in North Korea in about an hour. My guess is he’s waiting for darkness to fall before he moves out again.”

“That would make sense, Captain,” Krowl said sharply.

“Yes, sir. Our other Air Force tech sergeant here is responsible for USA82X, the second bird, which is positioned in the GEO orbit.” The captain turned to another large panel that showed a map of the Korean peninsula and a dotted tracing of two satellites, which appeared to converge as they ran from north to south.

“What about the convergence of those paths, Captain?” Krowl asked.

“Sir, they’re on two drastically different orbits. The GEO orbit of 82 will stay fixed in its current position. We may lose the picture of this other bird, but we have another satellite that’ll pick up on the window at oh-eight-hundred Zulu.”

“All right, the only thing is, I want to make sure we can use 82 directly from here.”

“Yes, sir,” said the captain. “We have complete capability from here to use 82 and do whatever you deem necessary.”

Krowl stood up, pushing in his chair. The captain, sensing Krowl was no one to mess with, remained at stiff attention until Krowl left the room.