The North Koreans set up a midday feast for the inspection team in the reception building, once again importing massive amounts of Korean and Western specialties. Large banquet tables were placed in the center of the building with chairs clustered nearby. The team members and the Koreans escorting them ate with their plates in their laps.
The lunch might have had the air of a picnic or perhaps a wedding, except that it was hard for the guests to ignore the fact that the space they were sitting in had been designed for vehicles carrying nuclear waste. Julie Svenson shook her head the whole time she was eating, gulping her food and then going to the far side of the building.
When Neto Evora saw that Thera was alone, he came over and sat down beside her, asking how she was enjoying North Korea.
“It looks like the perfect place for a nuclear waste dump, doesn’t it?” said the scientist. “Deserted, cold, and desolate.”
“Actually, the countryside is very beautiful,” she said. “It looks almost like heaven.”
“Heaven? I don’t think so.”
“I don’t mean the government. Just the open fields.”
“If you are like me, a city boy, then you want excitement.”
“I guess I’m not like you,” said Thera.
Evora smirked. “Maybe we’ll chance a party this evening.”
“Here?”
“You never know.”
He got up. Thera watched him strut across the room, very full of himself. There was a thin line between confidence and conceit. Evora was far over the line.
Why hadn’t she realized that the other night?
Temporary insanity. And drinks.
She hadn’t actually gone to bed with him, so she deserved some credit.
Some people could push the line between conceit and confidence. Ferguson, for example. Fergie could push it very far. He exuded confidence but not really conceit—not in her opinion at least—maybe because he could back it up.
Not that he was perfect. He could be casually cruel and impish, like the way he loved baiting Rankin, even though he trusted him with his life.
He was nice to her. But maybe that meant he didn’t take her seriously.
Still hungry, Thera got up and went over to the food table.
“You should try the bulgogi,” said Dr. Ch’o, the scientist who had helped her out of the SUV earlier. “It is beef, marinated and grilled.”
“Thank you,” said Thera, holding her plate out for him to dish the food.
“My pleasure,” said the scientist, bowing his head slightly.
“You speak very good English,” said Thera. “Better than mine.”
“Oh, you are very good. What language do you speak as a native?”
“Greek.” Thera rolled off a few sentences about how she lived near Athens, then returned to English. “But everyone speaks English these days.”
“You have an American accent.”
“Yes, I have worked there. For the UN. A very interesting place.”
“Yes. I have never been myself. But I have been to Russia and Europe.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yes. Some years ago. When I received my degree.”
Another member of the inspection team asked Ch’o where he had been in Europe. Thera drifted away, then returned to her seat and finished eating. The beef was tasty, but a bit too spicy for her.
When she was done, she went outside to have a look around. Unwrapping her pack of cigarettes, she pounded the box end, then took one and put it into her mouth. She had just lit up when she saw Ch’o and another North Korean walking swiftly toward her, concerned looks on their faces.
Oh, crap, they don’t allow smoking here either, Thera thought to herself. I’m going to be arrested.