Donald was running as fast as he could.
'Stop him!' he shouted. 'Someone stop that man— behind the barracks!'
The man looked in his direction, then sank deeper into the shadows.
'Saram sallyo!' he shouted in Korean. 'Somebody help! Don't let him get away!'
A searchlight flared on a tower in the South, and another came on in the North. The Southern light picked Donald out immediately; it was a moment longer before the Northern light had him.
Soldiers just heading out on patrol came from around the barracks. Donald waved his arms over his head.
'Get everyone out of the barracks! There's gas— poison gas?'
The dozen men were animated, appeared confused. Several of them unshouldered their AKM assault rifles, and a few were aimed in Donald's direction.
'Dammit, no! Not me! I'm trying to help—'
The men were shouting among each other; Donald couldn't quite make out what they were saying. And then he heard one man yell that the General was coming and this man had naifu.
The knife. He was still holding the knife.
'No!' Donald shouted. 'This isn't mine!' He raised it above his head where they could see and cocked his wrist to throw it down.
Two rifle shots tore through the early morning, the reports echoing through the hills long after Donald's pounding footsteps had stopped.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE
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 button hanging from a white cable. He lifted his left arm carefully and pressed the red button.
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 Japan, 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 shielded 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 dealership, 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
Rodgers and Squires crept up to where Bass Moore was lying. He handed his field glasses to the Lieutenant
