She gestured with her tea. “Want me to keep your coffee cup full? Make sure there are snacks for everyone?”
“Is it that bad?” he asked. “Do you get that much lack of respect? ’Cause I have to tell you, I worked twelve years for the Magellan Billet and the women there were just as good, just as tough, just as smart as any man. Most times, they were better. Never once have I ever treated a female agent different from a male. I’d never even consider doing that.”
She was beginning to think that she may have misjudged this man.
“What I need,” he said, “is for you to play with the team. This isn’t a job for the Lone Ranger anymore. It’s going to take a combined effort and you have a luxury that I don’t enjoy. Kim doesn’t know you exist. Luke, either. That means you both are going to have to take point. Can you handle that?”
Now she knew exactly why he’d come. To judge for himself if she was up to the job. She wanted in, of that she was sure, so much that she was willing to give this man the benefit of the doubt. “I can do it.”
“That’s what I want to hear. And besides, I owe you one.”
She was curious.
“You kept watch over me in Larks’ room while I was out cold. You wanted me to think you hung around just to chew me out, but you were also making sure no one came back for a second look.”
That she had. Agents did that for one another.
“Thanks,” he said. “Now tell me about Kim’s daughter, the one you failed to mention in Larks’ room after I woke up.”
“You understand why I kept that to myself.”
He nodded. “I would have done the same thing. I was a stranger, an unknown. You just wanted me out of the picture.”
“Her name is Hana Sung. She’s North Korean, early twenties, black hair, short, pretty. We know little to nothing about her, other than she’s illegitimate, but most of Kim’s children fall into that category. She boarded the cruise ship with him and shadowed Larks most of the time.”
“I never made her.”
“It would have been impossible. She kept her distance and faded into the other Koreans on board. I wouldn’t have made her, either, except that we had some intel that alerted us to be on the lookout for her, including a picture.”
“You knew she killed Larks?”
She shrugged. “Either her or Kim. Who else could it be?”
“The North Koreans are some of the most ruthless agents in the world. You’re going to have to keep your eyes and ears open, ’cause they can come from anywhere. Don’t get yourself killed, okay?”
She could see that his warning was genuine, and she appreciated it. “I’ll watch out. What do you have in mind?”
He stood. “Drink your tea and relax a bit. There’s not going to be much time for rest in the hours ahead.”
She watched as he left the café, her opinion of Harold Earl “Cotton” Malone quite different than a few minutes ago. Silence returned and she allowed the calm to soothe her nerves. Here she was, right in the middle of an international intelligence operation. Chinese? North Koreans? Luke Daniels was right. This was far different from what she was accustomed to handling.
But she liked it.
FORTY-EIGHT
WASHINGTON, DC
Stephanie stood from the bench and faced the man from Treasury. She kept her cool and asked, “Are you following me?”
He did not answer, and she understood why.
She looked down at Carol Williams and said, “Could you excuse us? I appreciate your time. I’ll give you a call if I need more information.”
The young curator left.
“New friend?” he asked.
“None of your business.”
“I wish that were true. I don’t want to be here any more than you want me here. I told you back in Atlanta that you should leave things to us.”
“And I told your boss not an hour ago that this was now an American intelligence operation, of which you are not a part.”
They were speaking low, beneath the ambient noise from the fountain and the schoolchildren, who continued to enjoy the garden court.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I came to tell you a few things.”
He sat on the bench. She had no choice but to sit, too.
“No chicken sandwiches today?” she asked.
“You still sore about your phone?”
“I’m still sore about a lot of things. I thought Joe Levy and I had an understanding that he was going to leave this to me.”
“Look, don’t shoot the messenger. My boss told me to find you—”
“And since you were having me shadowed anyway, that wasn’t so hard.”
He chuckled. “Something like that.”
“So what’s so important?”
“There’s been some reorganization within North Korea. It’s late breaking, and the secretary thought you might want to know.”
She listened as he explained that six government officials had been convicted of treason, then summarily executed.
“Happens all the time there,” she said.
“There’s more.”
“What makes you so cocksure of yourself?”
He shrugged. “Those friends in high places I told you about at our first little chat.”
She still wasn’t intimidated. “Tell me more.”
“The Dear Leader’s other brother, the middle one, has been executed, along with his wife and their three grown children. Two of those children were married, so the spouses and their four children were also killed. Seems like a thorough housecleaning.”
Definitely a message was being sent from brother to brother. And a fast one. Only about eighteen hours had passed since the loss of the $20 million. In that time North Korea had assessed the situation, determined the culprits, and fashioned an appropriate response. Not bad. By eliminating his middle brother and all of that brother’s heirs, Dear Leader was saying to his older sibling that his remaining nieces and nephews were next. From what she could recall, all of Kim’s children and grandchildren still lived in North Korea, making them easy targets.