Ferguson had just taken a seat at the restaurant when his satellite phone rang. He smiled at the waitress, who was handing him a menu, then took out the phone, expecting it to be Jack Corrigan, the mission coordinator back at The Cube, whose timing was impeccable when it came to interruptions. But instead he heard Thera’s hushed voice tell him that she needed to talk to him.
“Cinderella, why are you calling?” Ferguson glanced up at the waitress who was approaching with a bottle of sake.
“I need to talk to you,” repeated Thera.
“You need out?”
“I need you to meet me.”
“Where and when?”
Two hours later, Ferguson walked into the lobby of the Daejeon Best Western carrying a suitcase. He went up to the reservation desk and checked in as a German businessman, carefully starting his conversation with a small amount of German — nearly all he knew — before switching to a pigeon English. When the clerk took his credit card, he turned and looked around the marble-encased lobby. The balcony above was empty. Aside from the doorman, the place seemed empty, which, Ferguson hoped, it wasn’t.
The clerk returned his card and gave him a key. The room was right down the hall.
“Actually, I’d like something on an upper floor. Above,” added Ferguson. He put his thumb up.
“Above?”
“As high as you get.”
Perplexed, the clerk started to explain that he had given the gentleman one of the best rooms in the hotel.
“It’s not the best if it’s not what I want,” said Ferguson.
The clerk conceded and found him a room on the twenty-third floor. Ferguson thanked him very much, assured him that he could carry his own bag, and headed for the elevator. The car arrived instantly and began to glide upward.
It stopped on the third floor. Ferguson took a step back as the door opened. Thera stepped inside, practically out of breath. Neither of them spoke until the door closed and the car began moving upward.
“What’s going on?”
“The sensors found plutonium at the waste site today. I don’t know where.”
“Is that all?”
“Ferg, this is serious. All of the tags were red. I was only there for a few hours. There is a
She handed him a small manila envelope.
“All of them?”
“All of the ones I had with me. They’re all red.”
“Maybe there’s a leak in the recycling storage area,” said Ferguson.
“No.”
Thera explained what had happened.
“The tags were put in a plastic bag along with the rest of my stuff. They were taken out to Norkelus, who was over by the rail cars at the time. He came straight to the administrative building. They never got near the stored rods.”
The elevator stopped. Thera stepped back against the wall, eyeing the short American who came into the car. He gave her a goofy smile, then turned and poked the button for twelve.
Ferguson stared at the bald spot on the back of the man’s head, trying to will some sort of identity out of his brain. Finally as the car started upward, he asked if the man knew where the party was.
“Party?” The man turned around. “What sort?”
“I’m sorry. I thought you were Alsop, Yank friend of mine.” He shoved his hand out toward the man and introduced himself as Bob Jenkins, an Australian in the city on business. “Alsop’s around some place, sniffing out the party.”
The shorter man shrugged.
“Alsop, Mr. Party,” said Ferguson. “You one of the teachers?”
“Teacher?”
“The English-language teachers. Convention down the street.”
“No, I’m just a technician for a machinery company,” said the man. He started to explain that he’d come to Korea from the States to check on an instrument the company had sold the Koreans some months before.
“Software has to be tweaked every few weeks,” said the man as the door opened. “Gets old real fast, I’ll tell you.”
“If I find the party, I’ll let you know,” promised Ferguson.
The door closed.
“Seemed legit,” Thera said.
“Probably.” Ferguson leaned against the back of the elevator. This was the one contingency they hadn’t planned for: finding nuclear material in
“What are we going to do?”
“Did you leave a set?”
“No.”
“Do it tomorrow,” said Ferguson.
“All right. I’ll leave them overnight, then pick them up on our last day. How will I get them to you?”
“Leave them under your mattress when you get back and go out for dinner. We’ll get them. If something goes wrong, send an e-mail to your mother back in Greece and tell her you’re having a lovely time.”
“OK.”
“Don’t call, Thera. And do
“This was important.”
“Yeah, I know. Listen, this could just be a screw-up in the gadgets. They all went red? Sounds like a mistake.”
“You really think that, Ferg?”
Ferguson shrugged.
The door opened. Ferguson picked up his bag. Thera put her hand out to stop him.
“What if I have to talk to you again?”
“Don’t.”
Thera took the elevator back to the fourth floor. As the doors opened she took a breath, then plunged out into the hallway, walking quickly to the stairs a few steps away. Five minutes later, she was back on the street, wending her way to the bar where she was to meet Julie Svenson and some of the others from the inspection team.
“There you are!” said Julie as she slipped into the booth near the back. “We called your room, and Lada said you had gone out. That was an hour ago.”
“I got a little confused on the street,” said Thera. “Then I asked for directions.”
“Your first mistake,” said one of the scientists.
“True,” said Thera. “Very true.”
8
“Where’ve you been?” Rankin asked when Ferguson slid in next to him at the bar.
