to Liz. 'You're good. Want to swap jobs for a while?'
'No thanks,' Liz said. 'I prefer my psychos to yours.' She shifted her eyes clandestinely to and from Coffey.
Ann nodded as Liz used the mouse to access her password and switch it to the margin of the document. Her code would become part of the permanent file, right beside the changes, though it wouldn't appear on the printed press release.
As Liz was about to save the annotated file, the blue screen went black and the fan behind the computer fell silent.
Ann ducked her head under the desk to see if she'd somehow kicked the plug from the surge protector: the cord was right where it should be, and the green light on the surge protector was on.
There were muffled shouts from outside the office; Coffey strode to the door and opened it.
'It seems,' he said, 'that we're not alone.'
'What do you mean?' Ann asked.
Coffey faced her, his expression grave. 'It appears that all of the computers in Op-Center have gone down.'
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
After the taxi deposited him at the front gate of the U.S. base, Gregory Donald presented his Op-Center photo-badge to the guard. A call to the office of General Norbom and he was admitted.
Howard Norbom had been a Major in Korea while Donald was Ambassador. They met at a party celebrating the twentieth anniversary of the end of the war and had hit it off right away. Their liberal leaning politics were the same, they were both looking for a wholesome little thing to marry, and both were devotees of classical piano, Frederic Chopin in particular, as Donald discovered when the honky tonk pianist took five and the Major sat down and did a commendable job on the Revolutionary Etude.
Major Norbom found his wholesome little thing two weeks later when he met Diane Albright of UPI. They were married three months after that and recently celebrated their twenty-fourth wedding anniversary. The General and Diane had two great kids: Mary Ann, a Pulitzer Prize nominated biographer, and Lon, who worked for Greenpeace.
After an orderly showed him into the General's office, the men embraced and Donald's tears began again.
'I'm so sorry,' the General said, embracing his friend, 'so very sorry. Diane's on assignment in Soweto or she would have been here. She's going to meet us here.'
'Thanks,' Donald choked, 'but I've decided to send Soonji to the U.S.'
'Really? Her father agreed—'
'I haven't spoken to him yet.' Donald laughed mirthlessly. 'You know how he felt about the marriage. But I know how Soonji felt about the United States, and that's where I want her to be. I think it's where she'd have wanted to be.'
Norbom nodded, then walked around his desk. 'The Embassy will have to take care of the paperwork, but I'll see that that gets right through. Is there anything else I can do for you?'
'Yes, but tell me— is she here already?'
Norbom pursed his lips and nodded.
'I want to see her.'
'Not— now,' Norbom said, and looked at his watch. 'I'm having our dinner brought over. We can talk for a while.'
Donald looked into his friend's steel-gray eyes. Set in the craggy face of the fifty-two-year-old Base Commander, those eyes inspired trust, and Donald had always been quick to give it to him. If Norbom didn't want him to see his wife's body yet, Donald would defer. Only he had to see her soon, let her soul guide him, tell him that what he was planning was the right thing to do.
'All right,' Donald said softly. 'We'll talk. How well do you know General Hong-koo?'
Norbom's brow knit. 'That's an odd question. I met him once at the DMZ meeting in 1988.'
'Any firsthand impressions?'
'Sure. He's arrogant, blunt, emotional, and trustworthy in his own misguided way. If he says he's going to shoot at you, he will. Now I don't know him as well as General Schneider does, but I don't stare at him and his men across the DMZ every day, or listen to the loud North Korean folk songs they boom across the border in the middle of the night, or watch to see how many inches or feet he adds to his flagpole so it'll always be taller than ours.'
Donald began filling his pipe. 'Don't we send headbanger music back at him and raise our own flagpole?'
'Only when he does it first' — Norbom allowed himself a little smile— 'you pinko sympathizer. Why do you ask?'
Donald noticed the framed photograph of Diane on the General's desk and glanced away. It took him a moment to collect himself.
'I want to meet with him, Howard.'
'Out of the question. It's difficult enough for General Schneider to see him—'
'He's a soldier, I'm a diplomat. That may make a difference. In any case, I'll worry about contacting him. I need your help to get to the DMZ.'
Norbom sat back. 'Christ, Greg. What did Mike Rodgers do, give you a transfusion from his own right arm? What are you going to do, just walk across Checkpoint Charlie? Tie a note to a brick?'
'I'll use a radio, I think.'
'Radio! Schneider wouldn't let you near one— that'd be his ass. Besides, even if you could see him, Hong- koo's the most militant nutcase they've got. Pyongyang sent him there as a signal to Seoul: go to the reunification talks with deep pockets and a giving heart, or you'll be staring across a rifle at him. If anyone would have come up with a rogue operation like this, it's Hong-koo.'
'What if he didn't, Howard? What if North Korea didn't do this?' Donald held the unlighted pipe in his right hand and bent closer. 'As crazy as he is, he's proud and honorable. He wouldn't want to take credit or blame for any operation that wasn't his.'
'You think he's going to tell you?'
'Maybe not with words, but I've spent my lifetime watching people and listening to exactly what they have to say. If I can talk to him, I'll know if he's involved.'
'And if you learn that he is, what then? What are you going to do?' He pointed to the pipe. 'Kill him with that? Or has Op-Center given you new ideas?'
Donald put the pipe in his mouth. 'If he did it, Howard, I'm going to tell him that he killed my wife, that he robbed me of my future, and that this must not happen to anyone else. I'll go with very deep pockets, and with the help of Paul Hood I'll find some way to stop this madness.'
Norbom stared at his friend. 'You mean it. You really think you can square-dance right in and make him see reason.'
'From the bottom of my soul I believe it. As much of it as is still alive.'
The orderly knocked, entered with their dinner, and set the tray between the men: Norbom was still staring at Donald after the orderly had removed the metal covers and left.
'Libby Hall and most of the government of Seoul will oppose your going there.'
'The Ambassador mustn't know.'
'But they'll find out. The North will make propaganda hay out of your visit, just as they did when Jimmy Carter went there.'
'By then I'll be finished.'
'You're not kidding!' Norbom dragged a hand through his hair. 'Jesus, Greg, you've got to think long and hard about your plan. Hell, it's not even a plan, it's a hope. Doing an end run like this can upset whatever stage the
