Chung-Cha looked at him over the file she was holding. Buried shallowly in his compliment was a complication.
Assist?
“Thank you, Comrade. It will most certainly take a team to accomplish this goal. I am grateful to have someone such as yourself behind me.”
Bae’s cocksure look quickly faded.
She could not blame him for trying such a thing. But she was relieved that he had backed down. Otherwise he was a liability and would have to be treated as such. There was no room for error here. The Americans were too good at what they did. It was said they caught every electronic message sent around the world from every phone or computer. Chung-Cha had even heard that they had invented some device that could read one’s mind. She hoped that was not the case, or they might have already lost this fight.
The others guided Chung-Cha through the files and pictures over the next several hours. Chung-Cha’s mind occasionally would drift to Min downstairs playing with her toys. But then it would snap back and focus on the matter at hand.
She studied the pictures of the three people: mother, daughter, and son. They were innocent, of course, but then not innocent because they were related to the American president, who was her enemy.
Then she was shown two other pictures.
Bae said, “This was taken outside of Bukchang.”
The enhanced photo showed a man hanging on to the skid of a chopper. The image had been blown up such that his face was fairly clear despite the darkness.
“This scum killed our brethren at Bukchang,” said Bae. “He stole the filth Pak’s family from us. We are told he was wounded in his escape. And that the guards nearly brought the enemy’s helicopter down with their gallant rifles.”
Chung-Cha peered down at the image of Will Robie. Her immediate thought was that he was a capable man. Hanging on to the skid of a chopper fleeing enemy fire was not easy.
She was shown another photo. It was of a woman walking through an airport.
“In China,” explained Bae. “Shortly before the attack on Bukchang. We believe she is an American agent. We believe that she arrived with the other man. There was a report of one being a female. And I saw these two together at the White House after Bukchang was attacked.”
Chung-Cha stared at the picture of Jessica Reel. She was tall and lean and in her hardened physique Chung-Cha saw much strength.
“I understand there was a traitor with them?” she said.
Bae nodded. “He talked with one of the guards. He was North Korean. He was undoubtedly brought with them for his language skills and perhaps knowledge of Bukchang.”
“He might have been a prisoner there,” said Chung-Cha. “Some have escaped and fled to America.”
Bae spit on the floor. “Filth!”
Chung-Cha looked at him. “And why am I being shown these people?”
Bae looked at the others and then back at her. “They must be killed too.”
“But not by me?”
“That remains to be seen, Comrade Yie.”
“I cannot be in two places at the same time.”
“We will see,” said Bae. “We will see. But whatever the course, I will be behind you all the way, Comrade Yie.”
The two locked gazes until Chung-Cha again stared Bae down. As he looked aside, Chung-Cha returned to the files, but her mind was a long way away.
Chapter
64
CHUNG-CHA AND MIN HAD eaten some dinner prepared by the woman who had come with them here. Then Bae had departed and the man and woman had gone upstairs to their rooms. That left Chung-Cha and Min. Min’s eyes were droopy but she said, “Can we go for a walk?”
“I don’t think that is a good idea,” said Chung-Cha.
“Please, just for a few minutes?”
Chung-Cha looked out the window. It was dark, but that held no fear for her. It was true she had no weapons with her. Those would be provided later. But she was a weapon. She had heard that America was crime-ridden, with gangs on the streets attacking people, killing, raping, and robbing. She had seen no sign of this at all, either in New York City or here. Still, they might be out there.
“Just for a few minutes,” she said to Min, and the girl smiled.
They walked hand in hand around the residential development, which was well lit by streetlamps. Min looked at all the parked cars and said, “Americans must have much money.”
“I suppose,” said Chung-Cha. She had been thinking the same thing. She looked at all the houses, where the lights burned bright and steady. In Pyongyang one was lucky to have an hour’s worth of light at night. And there were more cars in this one parking lot than she had seen in all of North Korea.
They watched as a man and woman and their two small children came out of their house and headed to their car. The man smiled and said, “Hello.”
Chung-Cha greeted him back.
“Are you moving into the neighborhood?” asked the woman.
“What?” asked Chung-Cha.
“We saw you arrive earlier. Are you moving in, or just visiting?”
“Just visiting,” said Chung-Cha automatically.
The woman looked at Min. “What’s your name?”
“Her name is Min,” said Chung-Cha. She added in a more polite tone, “I’m sorry, she does not speak English.”
The woman smiled and said, “I’m sure she’ll pick it up right away. I wish they taught foreign languages here sooner, like they do overseas. Most kids don’t get going on that here until middle school. Way too late in my opinion.” She looked at Min again. “She looks to be about ten. Same age as Katie here. Katie, can you say hello?”
Katie, a small girl with blonde curls, was partially hiding behind her dad.
The woman said, “Katie’s our shy one.”
“Min too,” said Chung-Cha.
“If you’re doing the touristy thing and need any help or anything, let us know,” said the man. “I work downtown. Take the Metro in. I know it like the back of my hand. Just give a shout. Glad to point you in the right direction. Definitely do the Air and Space and the National Archives. Pretty cool stuff.”
“Thank you,” replied Chung-Cha, though in truth she had no idea what he had just said.
The family got into their car and drove off while Chung-Cha and Min continued their walk.
“What did they want?” asked Min.
“Just to say hello. And see if we needed help.”
“Were they pretending? So maybe they can try and hurt us later?”
“I do not know,” said Chung-Cha. “They seemed nice.”
“What was wrong with the girl’s hair?”
“Wrong?”
“It was all bent.”
It took Chung-Cha a moment to grasp what she was referring to. “Oh, some Americans’ hair is like that. Or they use a tool to make it look like that.”
“Why?”
“I do not know. I suppose they think it looks nice.”
“I do not think it looks nice,” said Min, although her expression did not match her words. It was clear she not only thought it looked nice but was wondering how it would look on her.
They headed back to the town house and Chung-Cha put a sleepy Min to bed. Then she went back downstairs, made herself a cup of tea, and spread the documents out in front of her on the table in the kitchen. She went over every page, every note, and every photograph. These files would be her life for as long as it took.
After about three hours and two more cups of tea her eyes grew weary and she leaned back in her chair. She looked up to the ceiling where she knew Min was asleep in their room.
She rose and went to the window and stared out at all the houses. They were virtually all dark now at this late hour. She knew she should go to sleep. She was tired. She was still not acclimated to the time zone. She was under pressure like she had never been before. To do what was expected of her was nearly impossible. She might be able to succeed in the first part of the mission, but the second part, her escape, would be impossible.
And then what would become of Min?