January 18 – 10:12 p.m. – Chicago, IL
Jarek waited until the medical team—having determined by numerous test results that he wasn’t having an acute heart attack—left him alone. He slipped from the bed, grabbed his clothes, and disappeared into the bathroom to change. He had to rip off the EKG patches, which made him wince as several chest hairs came with them. In the distance, he could barely hear the faint beeping of an alarm, likely triggered from removing the patches.
He didn’t feel safe here. Frankly, he didn’t feel safe anywhere.
Thankfully, the emergency department was busy, and he’d heard a couple of staff members talking about the steady stream of patients. Too busy to notice the alarm until it was too late, he hoped. His leaving was doing them a favor, one less person to deal with. And he knew there was nothing wrong with him, at least physically.
Mentally? His inability to let Hana go may qualify him as mentally imbalanced.
Moving casually, hoping no one would notice, he headed toward the nearest exit. Without a car, his choices were taxi or rideshare. Taxi was safer as he could use cash, so he went through the doors leading outside, an icy breeze hitting him in the face.
They didn’t call Chicago the Windy City for nothing.
He moved toward a shivering guard standing near a valet stand. Valet parking was all the rage with hospitals these days, and this poor guy did not look as if he was very happy about it.
“Any chance you can call me a taxi?”
“Yeah.” The guard pulled up a radio and spoke into it, before turning toward him. “Taxi will be here shortly.”
“Thank you.” He gave the guard a five-dollar bill for making the call. While waiting for the taxi, he tried to think about where to go.
Returning to his condo didn’t seem like a smart move. If the Asian had followed him to the airport, he had to have known not just where he lived but that he’d made an airline reservation for the flight to Geneva.
How was that even possible? Oh, he understood his knowledge of all things technical was sorely lacking, but still, it seemed crazy to him that they’d followed him to O’Hare so effortlessly.
The thought of the Asian knowing every move he made caused a sick feeling to settle in his stomach. Would the Asian have gone all the way to Geneva, Switzerland, with him? He had to assume so.
The taxi pulled up beside him. Jarek bent over to get a good look at the driver’s face. He was of Hispanic descent, but he still hesitated, wondering if it was possible the Asian was still somehow tracking him.
“Where to?” The driver’s tone held impatience.
“The DoubleTree Hotel.” It wasn’t his usual type of place, over the years he’d gotten soft, preferring to stay in four- and five-star establishments, but desperate times called for equally extreme measures.
As the taxi driver navigated through traffic, he considered his next steps. How could he get to Geneva to find Hana without anyone following him?
He needed a new identity. Something that would throw off the Asian and whoever else might be out there watching him. Could he borrow one from a friend?
As he pulled out his phone to call one of his faculty friends, he hesitated, then opened the window and tossed the cell phone out. The taxi driver eyed him warily in the rearview mirror as if he might at any minute turn into a lunatic.
A valid concern, the way he felt at the moment.
“Change in plan.” He leaned forward. “I need you to take me to Oak Park and Washington Street.”
The driver frowned. “That’s a long drive.”
He pulled out a one-hundred-dollar bill. “I’ll make it worth your time.”
The driver’s eyes widened, and he nodded. “Okay, yeah sure. Oak Park and Washington Street. No problem.”
“Thank you.” Jarek sat back against the seat feeling good about his decision. Geoff Webber wouldn’t be happy to see him at this hour, but his long-time friend and co-faculty member would certainly help him out.
He closed his eyes, knowing this was merely a temporary reprieve. He had to find a way to warn Hana of the danger.
Danger he’d likely brought thundering down upon her.
January 18 – 10:23 p.m. – Clarksville, MD
Mack kept a keen eye on the headlights behind them as Sun drove. A tail wasn’t out of the question, but he was confident they hadn’t been followed. He was impressed with her resourcefulness, having both a second safe house and a backup vehicle at her disposal. He didn’t know of anyone else who had that type of fallback plan. Sun had obviously come a long way since the last time he’d seen her.
She’d be a perfect agent for the federal government, especially considering her eidetic memory, much like his, but she had chosen instead to work the private sector.
To make more money? Maybe, but money hadn’t been that important to Sun, at least when they’d been growing up.
Things could have changed. And he needed to come clean about his current role in this case. He hadn’t lied about being attacked by two North Koreans in Central Park or about how they’d mentioned her mother as a traitor, but he hadn’t been completely honest with Sun about why he’d come to DC so quickly either.
His role in the NSA was classified, although that wasn’t why he hadn’t told her. Deep down, he was afraid she’d refuse to work with him once she knew the truth.
And that wasn’t an option. Not anymore. No way was he leaving her to deal with this mess alone.
Seeing her again made him realize how much he’d missed her.
“Tell me about your case for Security Specialists, Incorporated,” he said.
“The motel is coming up at the next exit.” She didn’t so much as glance at him. “I’ll get the room, you’ll need to wait in the car.”
“Must be a secret, huh?”
“Yes.” Her simple response made him smile.
“Okay, I get that. Just want to be sure your current case isn’t tied to the car bomb or the guy stationed outside your safe house.”
She didn’t respond for a long moment. “Did you notice if he was Asian?”
“No, I never got a good look at him.” He eyed her warily. “Did you? Was he North Korean?”
“Maybe.” She shrugged. “I didn’t get a good look either, but it’s a reasonable assumption based on what happened to you in Central Park.”
“True.” He twisted in his seat as she pulled into the motel parking lot. “I don’t think we’ve been followed.”
“I hope not.” Sun looked perturbed. “I went to a lot of trouble to have access to a backup vehicle that has no connection to my name. I’m still irked they found me at the safe house.”
“The name on the safe house is different from the name on this car?”
She sent him a withering look. “Of course. I’m not stupid.”
He lifted a hand in surrender. “I never said you were, Sun. No need to be so prickly.”
In response, she pushed open her door and climbed out of the Chevy. She slammed the door with more force than was necessary, then headed inside. He rubbed the back of his neck, wondering why he’d been unable to forget her over these past few years. Sun was as different from Abigail as night was from day.
Which is why he’d gotten bored and ended things with Abigail.
Whatever. Being in a relationship wasn’t important, keeping Sun alive was.
And hopefully finding out if the threat of a nuclear bomb being in DC was real or a hoax.
January 18 – 10:41 p.m. - Pyongyang, North Korea
He bowed deeply before the presence of the Supreme Leader of North Korea, his palms damp with sweat.
“What news did you bring me?”
The words were spoken in North Korean, but he knew the Supreme Leader could speak some English. Not that he was about to test that knowledge.
His body was trembling enough.
As before, there was something off about the Supreme Leader. But looking him directly in the eye was inviting instant death.
A fate that may await him still.
“Speak!”
His mouth was dry, but he managed to croak out a response. “We have discovered she is using the name of Hana Yin-lee. We believe she is in Geneva, Switzerland, but have not found her location as of this moment.”
The silence was agonizing, and he was braced for the Supreme Leader’s wrath. He kept his head down in the expected gesture of obedient servitude. He would stay here for hours if necessary.
“You must find the traitor and bring me evidence of her death.”
The order was not surprising, it was exactly what he’d expected. The tightness in his chest eased a bit. “Yes, Commander.”
He still didn’t move, not until one of the Supreme Leader’s men touched his shoulder, indicating he could stand. He wiped his damp palms on his pants, hoping his internal terror wasn’t visible for all to see.
Failing to execute his assigned task would result in a swift and merciless death.
Followed by the deaths of his entire family.
A high price for failing the Supreme Leader.
January 18 – 11:04 p.m. – Oak Park, IL
“Let me out here,” Jarek said when he spied Columbus Park.
“But this isn’t Washington Street yet, I think it’s a couple of blocks up ahead,” the driver protested.
“This is fine, thank you.” He paid the man his fee, along with the extra hundred, before sliding out of the back seat. The driver sped off, and it occurred to him that he should not be so frivolous with his cash.
How long would he need to live on what he was carrying in his pocket? Hopefully, Geoff would be willing to loan him more.
Along with allowing him to borrow his identity.
Asking such a thing would not be easy. No matter how your friends might offer to help you out of a jam, allowing their identity to be used for travel purposes was a serious request.
One Geoff may very well refuse.
If Geoff wouldn’t help, then he hoped his colleague would allow him to stay for what was left of the night.
He strode down the street toward Geoff’s residence, sweeping his gaze over the area to make sure the Asian didn’t pop out from behind a tree. His paranoia was getting to him, but considering the possible implication to Hana, he had little choice but to move with great caution.
Which was why he was approaching Geoff’s place from the rear, rather than from the front of the property.
Geoff’s backyard was fenced in, and at fifty-seven years old, it had been a long time since he’d performed the physical task of scaling a fence. But he wasn’t going to let that deter him. He exercised on a regular basis, did some strength training, and used the elliptical three days a week, how hard could it be?
Much harder than he’d ever imagined. Jarek knew that if anyone saw him struggling to get up and over the fence with the grace of a wounded buffalo, the police would be here in a heartbeat.
When he finally dropped down to the ground on the other side of the fence, he stayed in a crouched position, gasping for breath.
It was entirely possible Hana would have no use for the old and out of shape professor he’d turned out to be. Maybe once this was all over he’d go to the gym and hire a personal trainer. Surely fifty-seven wasn’t that old.
There were no lights on in Geoff’s home, making him wonder if he was out of town for the holiday rather than simply being asleep.
He swallowed hard, unable to comprehend what he’d do if Geoff was gone and unavailable to assist him.
Moving as silently as possible, he crossed the well-manicured lawn and knocked at the back door. The sound was incredibly loud to his ears, and he found himself praying the Asian wasn’t within hearing distance.
No response.
He rapped again, louder. Geoff lived alone, too, although he’d been divorced, while Jarek had never married.
His heart had always belonged to Hana.
After what seemed like eons, he heard the thud of footsteps. A wave of relief hit hard. Geoff was home.
The door swung open, revealing a sleepy man who looked extremely grumpy. “Jarek? What on earth are you doing here at this hour?”
“I’m in danger and need help. Please, Geoff, don’t turn me away.”
The annoyance faded, and his colleague took a step back, allowing him to enter. “You’re always welcome to stay in my guest room, Jarek. What sort of danger?” Geoff frowned. “And how did you get over the fence?”
“It wasn’t easy. I’m not as young as I used to be.” For the first time in hours, Jarek felt safe.
For now.
He glossed over what had transpired at the airport, and thankfully Geoff was too tired to press for more. As Geoff led him upstairs to the guest bedroom, it occurred to Jarek that anyone digging into his personal life would easily find that he and Geoff were work colleagues as well as friends.
He swallowed hard and silently prayed that he hadn’t brought his danger to Geoff’s doorstep.
The sooner he could convince his friend to allow him to borrow his identity long enough to fly to Geneva the better.
January 18 – 11:18 p.m. – Clarksville, MD
After convincing the desk clerk to take cash for the room, Sun returned to the Chevy where Mack was patiently waiting. He seemed to have more patience now than when they were younger, another sign of how much he’d grown and changed.
As she had. Physical attraction aside, she no longer cared about who Mack spent his personal time with.
She slid behind the wheel and tossed him a key.
“I’m going to park the vehicle in the back, near the dumpster, where it can’t be seen from the road.”
“Good idea.”
She wasn’t sure why she felt like Mack was humoring her. The way he’d reacted instinctively after the car bomb exploded and again at her compromised safe house indicated he had some sort of professional training.
More than just sparring at the gym to keep in shape.
What had Mack been doing these past few years? Last she’d heard, he’d been some sort of computer geek.
Hacking skills that were useless to her at the moment as a computer hadn’t been something she’d stashed at the safe house. Something she’d have to reconsider once this current threat has been neutralized.
She thought about her meeting with Hyun-woo, the North Korean defector who claimed to have information on an impending nuclear attack. Not a bomb being set off directly from North Korea, but a small nuke that had been smuggled in to be used here in DC by supporters of the regime, under Kim Jong-un’s orders.
Personally, she found that hard to believe. How could anyone possibly smuggle something like that into the US? Even a small nuclear device wasn’t easy to hide. It seemed far-fetched, but she knew Jordan and Sloan were being paid to find out what was truth and what was merely an embellished story, boasted about by those who believed the regime was all powerful.
If such a plan was in place, she feared the upcoming presidential inauguration was the perfect time to strike.
Just over thirty-six hours from now. Not a lot of time, considering she’d already narrowly escaped two attempts on her life.
And that didn’t count the possibility of her mother being in danger.
“Buck for your thoughts,” Mack said in a low voice as they headed into their room. They had room number ten, the last one in the row, and the only room that provided two ways to escape.
His comment made her smile. They’d always bet a buck on everything they did, competition between them hot and fierce. “I really need to call my boss.”
“Understood.” Mack stood behind her with the duffel as she unlocked the door. “Are you concerned about a trace on your phone?”
“No, I have a disposable phone with me, just need to plug it in and get it validated so I can use it.”
His eyebrow levered upward. “That stash of yours was pretty complete.”
“Did you expect anything else?” She closed the curtains to cover the window, then turned on the bedside lamp.
It took longer than she thought to get the disposable phone working, and when she did, she learned she had missed a voice mail message from her boss. Even more frustrating was that Jordan didn’t answer.
She left a terse message. “Call me at this number ASAP.”
Mack sat on the edge of one of the beds, regarding her thoughtfully. “Speaking of calls to make, do you have any way to contact your mother?”
“Not directly.” It pained her to admit she hadn’t spoken to her mother in the past five years and hadn’t actually spent time with her for even longer. The last Mensa meeting in Geneva, Switzerland, she’d only used a disposable phone to contact her mother, not daring to use anything traceable. Although they did have an anonymous answering service number they’d both memorized to use in case of an emergency.
“Your disposable cell is probably safe,” Mack pointed out.
She looked up with sudden suspicion. Was there more to Mack’s presence here in DC than he was admitting to? “Is there a reason you want me to call my mother?”
Mack didn’t look away, holding her gaze steadily. “No, Sun. My only concern is to keep you and your mother safe.”
She desperately wanted to believe him. Knowing Mack as long as she had, the thought of him turning on her was too painful to contemplate.
Once, she preferred working alone, but after partnering with Jordan and Sloan in preventing a terrorist act on the anniversary of 9/11, she’d come to appreciate having someone watching your back.
Someone like Macklin Remington.
But she hadn’t seen Mack in just over five years.
Every muscle in her body went still as she tried not to panic.
What if he’d decided to go rogue? Play for the dark side? How did she know he didn’t plant the car bomb himself? If she remembered correctly, it had been his suggestion to try to use the key fob from where they were standing.
Lord have mercy, had she placed her trust in the wrong man?