Tom Clancy's Op-center_ Op-center Part 31

CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE.

Wednesday, 7:53 A.M., Seoul

Nearly five hours after he'd first gone into surgery, Kim Hwan was awake and somewhat alert. He looked around him, the events at the cottage coming back to him. He remembered the drive back Kim the arrival at the hospital.

He turned to his left. Just past the IV sack he saw the Call b.u.t.ton hanging from a white cable. He lifted his left arm carefully and pressed the red b.u.t.ton.

It wasn't a nurse who entered but Choi Hongtack, an agent from the Internal Security division of the KCIA. The young man was dressed in a smartly tailored black three-piece suit. He was a bright kid, an up-and-comer, but deep in Director Yung-Hoon's pocket and not to be trusted without serious threats to his career.

Hongtack picked up a chair and set it beside the bed. "How are you feeling, Mr. Hwan?"

"Stabbed."

"You were. Twice. You suffered wounds to your right lung and to the small intestine, also on the right. The surgeons were able to repair the damage."

"Where's Miss Chong?"

"She left your car in the lot, stole another, and has since abandoned it for a third. There's been no report on a car being stolen in that area of the city, so we've no idea what she's driving or where she's headed."

"Good." Hwan smiled.

Hongtack regarded him strangely. "I'm sorry?"

"I said good. She saved my life. The man who attacked me?"

"He was ROK. We're chasing down what we believe are his commanders, who are also in the field, also ROK."

Hwan nodded weakly.

"Your driver, Cho. He didn't come back."

"I think he's dead. Go to the cottage Yanguu Village. Kim's home."

Hongtack slid a notepad from inside his jacket. "Yanguu Village," he wrote. "Do you think she went there?"

"No. Don't know where she would go."

That wasn't true, but he didn't want to tell Hongtack that. She would make her way to j.a.pan, to her brother, and he hoped with all his heart that she got there. But he knew that might not be enough, and her welfare must come first just as she had put his first by bringing him here.

"If she's found do not arrest her."

"I'm sorry?"

"You're to let her go wherever she wants." Hwan reached out and grabbed Hongtack's sleeve. "Do you understand? She is not to be stopped."

From the ill-concealed fire in his eaglelike eyes, Hwan couldn't tell what bothered Hongtack more: the order or having his clothes touched.

"I-- I understand, Mr. Hwan. But if she is found, you want her followed."

"No."

Hongtack's pager beeped. He looked down at the number.

"But then-- what do I tell the Director?"

"Nothing." Hwan moved his hand from the sleeve to the lapel. "Don't cross me on this one, Hongtack."

"All right, Mr. Hwan. If you'll excuse me now, I've got to call the office."

"Remember what I said."

"Yes. I will."

In the hall, Hongtack tugged his sleeve straight, then pulled the compact cellular phone from inside his jacket.

"Croaking little frog," he muttered as he walked to a corner near the soda machine. He punched in the number that had been on his pager, the office of Director Yung-Hoon.

"How is he?" Yung-Hoon asked. "Are they treating him well?"

Hongtack turned his back to the corridor and s.h.i.+elded his mouth with his open hand. "He's awake and the doctors tell me he'll recover fully. Sir-- he also wants to protect the spy."

"Excuse me?"

"Protect the spy. He told me she's not to be apprehended."

"Let me speak with him--"

"Sir, he's sleeping."

"Does he expect us to let her go back to the North, having seen him and several of our agents?"

"Apparently, yes," said Hongtack, the aquiline eyes narrowing. "That's exactly what he expects."

"Did he give a reason why?"

"No. He said only that she was not to be taken, and that I was not to cross him on this."

"I see," Yung-Hoon said. "Unfortunately, that would create a problem. We found her stolen car abandoned at a BMW dealers.h.i.+p, and everyone's looking for her. City police and highway authorities have joined our search and I've sent helicopters to cover the roads leading from the city. It would be impossible to recall them all."

"Very good. What shall I tell Mr. Hwan, if he asks?"

"The facts. I'm sure he'll understand when his thinking clears."

"Naturally," Hongtack said.

"Check in with me again in an hour. I want to know how he's doing."

"I will," Hongtack said, then returned to his chair outside Hwan's door, a smile on his ascetic face.

CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR.

Wednesday, 7:59 A.M., the Diamond Mountains

Rodgers and Squires crept up to where Ba.s.s Moore was lying. He handed his field gla.s.ses to the Lieutenant Colonel.

"That's the unit guarding the eastern perimeter of the Nodong site," Squires said. "There are only supposed to be five of them."

Rodgers peered out. The hill sloped down sharply ahead, a rocky area of about a half mile to the ledge where the soldiers were sitting. Except for some large boulders, there was nothing to use as cover. On the ledge at the base of the hill were two mobile antiaircraft guns, the clips of two thousand rounds each stacked neatly to the left of each gun. Beyond them, in the valley below, the rising sun revealed the Nodongs beneath their foliage-covered canopies.

"Looks like we go in two-by-two," Squires said. "Moore, go back and tell the men to pair off. You and Puckett'll go first. You'll go to that gumdrop-shaped rock sixty-odd yards down on the left. See it?"

"Yes, sir."

"After that, you cut right and down to the cl.u.s.ter on the right. You feel your way after that, and we'll all follow. When we're as low down as we're gonna get, the General and me will open fire from the back and give the enemy a chance to surrender. They won't, and when they come up after us we close in from the sides. I'll brief each pair as they come down."

Moore saluted, then went back up the hill to collect the Sergeant.

Rodgers continued to study the terrain. "What if the men down there do decide to surrender?"

"We disarm them and leave five of our men behind. But they won't."

"You're probably right," said Rodgers. "They'll fight. And when the soldiers at the missiles hear the gunshots, they'll pull men off the other stations and send them after us."

"We'll be out of here by then. I'll keep the men in pairs to spread the enemy out, pick 'em off as we can. We'll rendezvous at the command tent below and figure out a way to shut those birds down. I just hope they don't fly them prematurely."

Hood borrowed the gla.s.ses and looked down at the command tent." You know, something's not right down there."

"Like what?"

"There's no one coming and going from the command tent, including the commander."

"Everything's set. Maybe he's having breakfast."

"I don't know. Hood said that two men flew into the North off that ferry. If this is a conspiracy against the DPRK, the commander wouldn't have just let them mosey in, take over, and retarget the missiles."

"Orders can be forged."

"Not here. They work on a double-check system. If the commander gets new orders, he radios Pyongyang for confirmation."

"Maybe they've got someone on the inside up there."

"Then why send two men here? Why not just change the orders from headquarters?"

Squires nodded as Moore and Puckett arrived. "I see your point."

Rodgers continued to study the command tent. It was still, the flap shut. "Charlie, I've got a feeling about this-- would you let me take two men and go down there?"

"And do what?"

"I'd like to get down there and give a listen, see if whoever's in charge is the person who's supposed to be in charge."

Squires shook his head. "You'll be eating up the clock, sir. It'll take you at least an hour to pick your way down there."

"I know, and it's your call. But we're facing twice the number of troops we were expecting, and there's going to be a lot of shooting without any guarantees."

Squires sucked on his upper lip. "I always wanted the chance to tell a general 'no,' and now that I've got it-- I won't. Okay. Good luck down there, sir."

"Thanks. I'll contact you by field phone when I can."

Rodgers and Moore took a moment to chart a course the three of them could use to go around the artillery emplacements, while Puckett took off his radio backpack and left the unit with Squires.

"Oh, and Charlie," Rodgers said before leaving, "don't radio Op-Center unless something happens. You know how Hood gets about some of my schemes."

"I do, sir, yes." Squires smiled. "Like a terrier at a rib roast."

"You got it," Rodgers said.

With the sun high above the horizon and throwing long shadows behind the boulders, the three men started off.