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Authors: Jeffrey Stephens

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BOOK: Targets of Opportunity
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Vauchon waited a few moments, then said, “Sir, perhaps we might want to call in a stenographer. This would save you the trouble of taking notes.” Not to mention the trouble of finding a pen and pad, which were clearly absent from the table.

“Excellent.” The colonel picked up the phone and ordered his aide to join them with a recording machine.

While they waited, Vauchon said, “There is something I should mention before we begin.” Picard leaned forward. “At the end, after the first explosion was ignited, there was pandemonium of course, with people rushing from below, trying to escape. The second series of blasts came soon after, but in those few moments I came face-to-face with the man I believe led this attack.”

The colonel waited.

“He was mortally wounded, and he knew it, sir. He spoke to me and told me three things that may have great bearing on this matter.”

“This man spoke to you, knowing he was dying?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Credible statements, they say, these so-called deathbed confessions.”

“Yes, sir.”

The colonel leaned back in his chair, not encouraging Vauchon to continue, but rather signaling that the lieutenant should wait a moment as he thought this through. When a knock came at the door, Picard ordered them to hold off, then leaned forward again. “I take it that you view this information as being, shall I say, of a sensitive nature.”

“I do. And critical to this investigation.”

Colonel Picard shifted nervously in his seat.

“I want to impart this information to you in case, well, in case of anything happening, I think someone else should know before we go on the record.”

Picard replied with a reluctant nod.

Vauchon lowered his voice as he said, “The man told me that he had been betrayed. I don’t believe he ignited either of the explosions. His team wired them, certainly, but he was not there to commit suicide.”

“You mean they were set off by someone else in his cell?”

“No, sir. I believe from what this man said that they were set off remotely, although I cannot be sure. But I believe that is what he was saying. Something about betrayal and a remote detonation. Second, he gave me a name, and I believe it may be the name of the man responsible for the plan. He said ‘Adina.’”

“Adina,” Picard repeated dully.

“Yes. And then he said one more thing before he died, just as the next explosion occurred.”

“Yes, lieutenant?”

“He said something about a bay, or a town by a bay.”

The colonel was intrigued in spite of himself. “Gustavia perhaps?”

“No, sir.”

“Well, what exactly did he say?”

“Well, as you can imagine, the circumstances were difficult at best, but I believe he was saying the words ‘bay town.’ I believe that was it.”

“‘Bay town.’ Those were the words?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And what did you make of it, lieutenant?”

“I’m not sure, sir, but they were his dying words.”

The colonel leaned back again and had a look at his watch. “All right, you’ll make your full statement, but we’ll deal with this last part when they arrive from Paris later today.”

CHAPTER FORTY

SOUTH OF THE BORDER BETWEEN NORTH KOREA AND RUSSIA

B
Y THE TIME
the truck ground to a halt again, Sandor felt as if he had been buried alive beneath the floorboards for days rather than hours. If this stop turned out to be another military checkpoint he preferred to shoot it out rather than spend one more moment stuffed in this dark hole. He hadn’t slept in more than twenty-four hours, his muscles ached, and the air within the cramped space was hot and fetid and thin. Still, he fought against his emotions as he waited and listened.

Hea was lying motionless, her soft breathing telling him she had willed herself to sleep.

Smart girl, he thought.

On the other side Hwang remained thankfully unconscious, which was one less problem to deal with, at least for now.

When the noisy truck engine was silenced, Sandor tightened his grip on the Tokarev once again and waited.

He heard the tailgate opening, then someone boarding the rear of the lorry. One man, or so it seemed. Then the sound of the boxes above them being shoved aside was followed by the board being lifted and the sudden rush of fresh air felt like an ocean wave passing over him.

He blinked repeatedly, trying to make a quick adjustment to the dim light inside the truck as he scrambled from the compartment. He found himself staring up at Kwan.

The young man was not smiling. He stood there, holding his finger to his lips.

Sandor nodded his understanding, got to his feet, then helped Hea to stand as she roused herself into full consciousness.

As Kwan whispered something into his sister’s ear, Sandor stretched out, first his legs, then his back and neck and arms. Hea turned to him and said quietly, “We must get out of here right away so Kwan can leave. There is a path that will take us to the Khasan railroad yard. We must go on foot.”

“What about him?” Sandor pointed to the inert form of Hwang.

Hea asked her brother something, then said to Jordan, “We cannot leave him here, it is too dangerous for my brother.”

“And the rest of your family,” Sandor reminded her.

“Yes. He might somehow be able to identify our village, or…”

“You,” Sandor interrupted. “Believe me, I understand, and I need him anyway. Just didn’t count on having to carry him.” He had another look at their hostage. “Ask Kwan how long he expects Hwang to be out.”

The question raised a smile from the young Korean before he answered.

Hea said, “He thinks he will be out for quite some time.”

Sandor shrugged. “So that means I’ll be lugging him around for quite some time. How in hell are we going to get past the guards like that?”

“Kwan has a planned route for us,” the girl told him.

“What about that overseas communication?”

Kwan understood. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a cell phone. He said something to Hea, who explained that it was a disposable phone, a valuable commodity in North Korea, but traceable once powered up. It should only be used when they were near the end of their journey.

Sandor nodded. “But this will definitely get me an overseas connection?”

“Kwan says it will, but you must be careful. They will track the signal as soon as you make the call.”

“Got it. Okay, let’s move out.”

Kwan helped Sandor drag Hwang to the edge of the truck bed. Hea then had a look outside. They were parked off the highway, beside a large rock outcropping that hid them from view.

“Quickly,” Hea urged him.

Sandor jumped to the ground and, despite the stiffness in his back and neck, hoisted the inert man over his right shoulder. He wanted to say something to Kwan, to thank him, but Hea’s brother was busy replacing the floorboards, rearranging the boxes, and closing the tailgate. When he was done, he and his sister paused, but only for an instant, looking at each other as if for the last time. Then the young man nodded and, with a sad smile, climbed into the cab of the truck and drove away.

After a momentary pause, Hea said, “Hurry,” then led Sandor to a path amid the trees, away from the road.

————

Fortunately, Hwang was not a large man and Sandor had little difficulty carrying him over his shoulder as they trudged north through the woods. Their direction was easy enough to discern with the hot sun on their right filtering through the dense foliage above them. Neither Sandor nor Hea spoke for ten minutes or so, they just moved ahead until Sandor asked, “So what, exactly, is our plan? We just going to walk across the border with Hwang on my back?”

Hea did not break stride as she said, “There is a railroad siding. A couple of miles more and we will see it. We can board a Russian freight train as it slows through the yard. That will take us into Khasan.”

“And if we’re seen running for the train.”

“We can pay off the attendant if we have to. Or use these,” she reminded him, hoisting up the pistol she still held, then pointing to the gun in his hand. She had the AK-47 slung over her shoulder.

“Uh huh. And what about the fact that the DPRK military is going to be on the alert for a border crossing?”

“What choice do we have?” she asked, still marching ahead of him.

Sandor nodded approvingly. There were several things he liked about her style, especially the ability to keep her focus while knowing, just a few minutes earlier, she had likely cut off all contact with her family. Forever. “So,” he said, “we’re just like a couple of Depression-era hobos, jumping a boxcar, that’s the plan?”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry,” he said, “I’ll explain that later. Let’s keep going.”

And so they did, the trail becoming narrower and more overgrown with vegetation the farther north they went, which suited Sandor just fine. The less trampled their path, the less likely they would be intercepted before reaching the yard.

In half an hour the tracks came into view and soon they could hear the sound of trains rumbling along, somewhere off to their left. Hea slowed, then stopped and moved behind a large tree. Sandor fell in behind her and dumped Hwang on the ground. He took the opportunity to stretch his neck back and forth, trying to loosen up the tightness in his shoulders.

“Time to find the road less traveled,” he said, smiling at the blank look she offered in response. “Another story for the flight back to the States, okay?” Then he lifted Hwang again and began to move through the trees with Hea trailing behind.

It was not long before they could see the train yard that Hea had described. It was a large, open area, with tracks acommodating traffic north and south. The tracks leading up to Khasan were closest to them, but there was a large expanse of open ground they would need to traverse if they were to reach the train as it came through.

“This isn’t going to work,” he told her as they stopped behind a large rock to survey the area. Sandor pointed to a couple of structures, two stories high, across the way. “Probably railroad offices and switching stations, but today I guarantee you they’re full of local military, all equipped with high-power binoculars, not to mention rifles.” They were too far away to determine if anyone was positioned on the roofs, but Sandor guessed they were. “We try and make a run for it in the open there and they’ll cut us to ribbons.”

“Can we wait until dark? Would that be better?”

“Better, yes, but they’ll have infrared and night vision goggles. Or they can easily throw floodlights on, and then what? And who knows what patrols they already have in the area? We can’t just sit here for ten hours and hope that we’re not discovered. Our friend Hwang is going to wake up eventually, which will create another issue.” He thought it over as he watched an old locomotive pull a line of freight trains slowly past, traveling south. There was no sign of a military presence, no one boarding the cars as they moved along. “No, I believe our best move is to act now. But not here,” he told her. “Come on.”

Sandor hoisted Hwang one more time, then led Hea back through the woods, staying as close as he could to the rail line without coming out from the cover of the trees, not stopping until they were more than a mile south of the yard.

Now they were much closer to the tracks, although Sandor knew the train would be moving faster here, making it tougher to board. He did not have to wait long before the sound of an approaching locomotive announced it was on its way.

“Not yet,” he said as he watched, gauging the speed, judging how he would make his move. When the entire line of cars had passed, he said, “Okay, we can do this. First thing, it has to be a Russian train. No sense complicating our lives by getting aboard a North Korean line.”

Hea nodded. “Both Russian and North Korean trains run back and forth.”

“Right. Second, and this is the tough part, I don’t think it’ll work for us to board one of the cars in the back. There’s likely to be a customs check, and we’ll be dead if they find us there. I need to get into the locomotive, to make sure they don’t stop when they come to the border. You understand?”

“Yes.”

“Which means I have to try and board first. The question is, what the hell do we do with Hwang? You’re not going to be able to carry him onto a moving train, and I can’t risk lugging him on my back if I’m going to reach the engineer.”

As they talked it over, Hwang finally started to stir. “All right,” Sandor said, “here’s what we’ll do.”

After he explained his plan, Hea asked, “What if the next train is North Korean?”

“The one that just passed was North Korean, which should improve our odds the next one will be Russian. If it’s not, well, then Mr. Hwang turns out to be unluckier than we thought. Right, Hwang?”

Hwang was emerging from his narcotic haze. He heard the plan and began to struggle against his bindings. Sandor reached out and gave him a slap on the cheek. “You just stay nice and quiet, pal. I’d hate to think I hauled you all this way just to shoot you.”

Hwang gave him a venomous look, but stopped writhing around.

Sandor turned back to Hea. “If this stretch of rail is being watched they’ll see me as soon as I move into the clearing with our friend here.” He took the cell phone Kwan had given him and handed it to her. “If anything should happen to me, you get the hell out of here, try and jump the next train going north.” He stood and led her beyond the earshot of his prisoner, behind a large tree. There he recited a set of numbers. “Once you’re on the train you turn on the phone and enter those numbers, then ask for a man named Byrnes, tell him you were with me, tell him everything that happened. He’ll get you out of here. All right?”

She stared at him, not moving, not speaking.

“Hey,” he said, “just a precaution. Now, repeat the numbers,” he insisted, and she did. Then he returned to Hwang and, without warning, leaned over and hit him with the side of his clenched hand, striking him just between the man’s neck and shoulder, a vicious chop that would quiet the Korean down for a little while longer.

BOOK: Targets of Opportunity
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