The Target

Chapter

 

34

 

 

 

CHUNG-CHA WAS FINISHING HER first cup of morning tea when there came a knock on her door. She rose, padded across the room, and looked through the peephole. She opened the door and stepped back.

 

Three men walked past her and into the room of her apartment. Two were in uniform. One wore a black tunic and slacks of the same color.

 

Chung-Cha closed the door behind her and joined them in the center of the tiny room.

 

“Good morning, Comrade Yie,” said the man in the tunic.

 

Chung-Cha nodded slightly and waited. Her gaze darted to the uniforms and she counted the stars on their shoulders. As many as General Pak had possessed.

 

She indicated chairs for them to take and they all sat down. She offered tea but this was declined.

 

“Pak,” said the black tunic.

 

“Yes?” replied Chung-Cha.

 

“He is dead. Apparently he killed himself while in France. At least that is what preliminary reports are saying.”

 

“He was feeling great guilt,” said one of the generals. “For his treachery.”

 

The other general shook his head. “It is difficult to believe. His family is an honored one.”

 

“No longer,” said the black tunic, who was a direct representative of the Supreme Leader. “His family is dishonored and will be appropriately punished. Indeed, that punishment is being meted out as we speak.”

 

Chung-Cha knew this meant they were being sent to the labor camps. She did not know any of Pak’s family, but she felt empathy for them nonetheless. She knew this order would include even young children. And what possible culpability could they have?

 

Three generations. The cleansing must happen.

 

But then she remembered something.

 

“What family does he have?” asked Chung-Cha. “I understand that his wife was dead and that he had no children.”

 

“He has an adopted daughter and son. It was not well known. He adopted them later in life. They are both grown.”

 

“But if they are adopted there is no traitor blood issue,” said Chung-Cha.

 

The black tunic seemed to swell with indignation. “That is no concern of yours. He was a traitor, which means they are traitors. They will be appropriately dealt with.”

 

“Which camp?” asked Chung-Cha, before she could stop herself.

 

The black tunic looked incredulous. “If I were you, Comrade, I would focus on things that concern you. I am well aware of your past. Do not give me occasion to revisit it.”

 

Chung-Cha bowed her head. “I apologize for my foolishness. I will never again speak of it. You are right, it is no concern of mine.”

 

“I’m glad that you understand that,” said the black tunic, though his eyes remained suspicious.

 

“I was sad to have to report General Pak’s treachery to you,” said Chung-Cha. “But it was imperative that you knew. An enemy of the state is an enemy of the state, regardless of his exalted position.”

 

Her underlying intent was probably missed by the three men. She was not of exalted position. She had never been of exalted position. And yet she was loyal. To a point. And she would never go back to the camps.

 

“Precisely,” said the black tunic. “You have done well, Comrade Yie. You will be appropriately rewarded.”

 

Chung-Cha wondered if this meant another electric rice cooker. Or perhaps another set of tires for her car. Actually, she would prefer a South Korean–made Kia. She had heard such things were possible if the Supreme Leader willed them to happen.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“But there is yet another dilemma.”

 

She inclined her head. She had wondered from the moment they had knocked on her thin door and entered her humble apartment what it was they actually wanted of her. They did not have to come here to thank her. They were busy, important men. To come merely to thank her was out of the question.

 

That could only mean one thing.

 

The black tunic said, “We require your services, Comrade Yie, for a very delicate mission.”

 

“Yes?” she said inquiringly.

 

“General Pak was not alone at his death.”

 

She sat there, her hands in her lap, and waited for what he would say next.

 

“We believe that two American agents were with him at the end.”

 

“Did they kill him? Was it not suicide?”

 

One general exclaimed, “We are not sure. We cannot be sure of that. They could have made it look like Pak took his own life. They are as cunning as they are evil. You know that.”

 

Chung-Cha nodded and said, “Yes. I know this.”

 

There was no other possible response a North Korean could make to such a statement and hope to live or remain free.

 

“Pak must have known we would discover his treachery,” said the same general. “That is why he immediately fled to France on the pretext of a health issue.”

 

“Why France?” asked Chung-Cha.

 

The black tunic shrugged. “He had been there before. It was a quirk of his personality that he seemed to like French things. He did not always appreciate the glory and beauty that is his own country.”

 

One of the generals said, “While the man you killed, this Lloyd Carson, was British, we believe he was secretly working with the Americans. We had tracked General Pak to the cottage where he died and had it under observation. We were about to take him when those two agents showed up. They had surveillance cameras up, but our people were able to avoid them. A single shot was fired. Then, very soon, people came and cleansed the area—more Americans. They were obviously behind all of this, the evil devils.”

 

“And what is the delicate mission you wish me to perform?” she asked.

 

The generals looked at each other and then both turned to the black tunic. He, it seemed, had been chosen to deliver the instruction.

 

“We believe that the cowardly Americans sought to actually kill our Supreme Leader and replace him with the traitorous General Pak. We cannot allow that to stand without a response. A very forceful response. It is imperative.”

 

“And what shape will this forceful response take?” asked Chung-Cha.

 

“An eye for an eye, Comrade Yie.”

 

She blinked. “You wish the death of the American president?”

 

Now the black tunic blinked as well. “No. We must humbly admit to ourselves that such a goal is unrealistic. He is too well guarded. But there is another target that will deliver our response just as forcefully.”

 

“And what is that?”

 

“He has a wife and two children. They must pay the price for their husband and father’s evil work. They must die, because they are just as guilty as he is.”

 

Chung-Cha looked at the two generals and found their features impassive. She looked back at the black tunic.

 

“You wish me to travel to America and kill them?” she asked.

 

“You must do so all at one time, while they are together, as they frequently are. We cannot eliminate them singly, because the survivors will be forewarned.”

 

“And when I do so and the Americans retaliate?”

 

“They are a weak bully. They have nuclear weapons? Well, so do we. And unlike them we have the courage to use them. They have much to lose. We have relatively little. And because of that, they will turn tail and run away like the cowards they are. You must understand, Comrade Yie, that we desire this confrontation. After all that has come before, we will prove to the world once and for all which country is mightier. The Supreme Leader is adamant on that point.”