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IT WASN’T THE FIRST time ricin had been used in an assassination. On September 7th, 1978, dissident writer Georgi Markov was injected by a ricin pellet while walking in London. It was believed to have been shot from a modified umbrella carried by a Bulgarian KGB operative. The pellet injected 0.2mg of ricin directly into Markov’s leg and he died four days later.
The gloves Kruger and Cowboy were wearing had been specially designed with micro-injectors that deployed when pressure was applied. A tiny, almost invisible spike would emerge from the forefinger and inject the victim with 0.1mg of a specially develop compound of the toxic substance. Within hours, the victim would begin exhibiting signs of illness.
The enhanced ricin compound would prevent the victim’s cells from making the proteins needed for survival. The symptoms would initially appear to be gastrointestinal and then become more serious as kidney and liver failure set in. Eventually, the victim would begin suffering from respiratory distress and death would occur within twelve hours. It was plenty of time for them to make their escape, provided everything went according to plan.
Kruger stared straight ahead at attention as the procession of dignitaries approached them. He immediately recognized Kim Jong-Un followed by Choe Il-Sung. All he needed was for the two of them to do exactly as they had done for every photo op the intelligence community had of them with fighter pilots, and the mission would be a success.
Although they were impossible to tell apart from normal gloves, only Kruger and Cowboy wore the specially designed gloves. There was no time for the pilots to change gloves while taxiing in, and the risk was just too high to wear them while flying. The team determined that having both Kruger and Cowboy wear them would be sufficient. They had also considered having Natasha or Anatoly wear them, but given the climate and time of year, they determined that there was no easy way to justify it if asked.
The smiling North Korean dictator started with Spectre and shook his hand. He thanked Spectre for the magnificent display and then said, “I’m a pilot too. Top pilot in North Korea.”
Spectre smiled but said nothing as he shook Dear Leader’s hand. Jong-Un moved on to Cowboy standing to Spectre’s left and shook his hand. Kruger resisted the temptation to look down and watch the handshake as he hoped Cowboy wouldn’t inadvertently deploy the micro-needle and kill the leader of North Korea.
Not that the little fat kid didn’t deserve it for what he had done to his people, but that wasn’t the mission. Jong-Un was at least making an attempt at peace talks with the President, and for those to continue unabated, he needed to stay in power. The only objective was to remove the wildcard from the deck by eliminating Il-Sung.
“This is Captain Rostov,” Natasha said, introducing Kruger in Korean as she walked in front of Jong-Un introducing each pilot. “He is very experienced.”
Jong-Un quickly moved to Kruger after shaking Cowboy’s hand. Kruger made sure not to tap his forefinger. Two taps and a long press was all it took to deploy the micro-needle and inject the ricin.
“You fly great,” Kruger heard Jong-Un say through his in-ear translator. Kruger forced a smile as he shook the dictator’s hand. Jong-Un then seemed distracted by Woody and pointed at him.
Kruger didn’t pay attention to what he was saying as Il-Sung moved to him. As Il-Sung reached out, Kruger shook his hand with both hands, double-tapping his forefinger on the back of the man’s much smaller hands and then squeezing gently.
Kruger felt the micro-needle deploy and the small amount of ricin inject into the victim, but Il-Sung didn’t seem to notice. He looked Kruger in the eyes and then turned his attention to Jong-Un’s sudden fascination with Woody.
They asked about Woody’s background, but Natasha managed to answer to Dear Leader’s satisfaction and they continued to look at the aircraft.
“Did you do it yet?”
“It’s done,” Kruger replied without looking at Woody.
“Good, now let’s go turn dinosaurs into hot air and get out of here.”
Kruger looked at Cowboy who nodded in reply, indicating he had also been successful in injecting the poison.
Anatoly broke ranks from the group as they walked around Spectre’s aircraft. He walked up to Kruger and said, “Jong-Un wants to sit in the cockpit.”
“So? Let him,” Spectre answered.
“He wants a pilot,” Anatoly said.
“He knows we don’t speak Korean, right? What good will that do?”
“One of you needs to be there,” Anatoly insisted.
“Spectre, you go,” Kruger said. “He’s asked too many questions of Woody.”
“Fine,” Spectre said reluctantly. “But they need to get the fuel trucks out here and power carts going so we can get the hell out of this shithole.”
Spectre left Anatoly with the others and went to join the crowd at the base of the front cockpit ladder. Kim Jong-Un nodded and then climbed up the ladder, plopping himself onto the seat. Spectre was frisked once more by one of Jong-Un’s bodyguards and then allowed to follow him up.
He stood on the ladder as Jong-Un turned to his right and posed for pictures by the ecstatic camera crew. As Jong-Un started to flip switches, Spectre waved his hand, hoping to grab his attention. The man was like a toddler, trying to touch every display and switch he saw.
As Spectre waited for Jong-Un to lose interest and come back down, the dictator suddenly looked at Spectre and the smile on his face vanished. “I want to fly.”
Spectre wasn’t sure his in-ear translator was working correctly. Did he just say he wants to fly?
“I want to fly,” Jong-Un said again.
Seeing Spectre’s puzzled look, he made a flying motion with his hand. “Fly,” he said in Korean as he simulated an aircraft taking off.
Spectre just nodded and smiled, not sure what to do. Jong-Un seemed thrilled with that response and excitedly started to get out of the seat, causing Spectre to descend the ladder to stay out of his way.
Jong-Un was helped down the ladder by one of the generals as Spectre stepped back. He overheard him tell Il-Sung and the others that he wanted to ride along in the airpower demo they had planned.
Spectre made eye contact with Natasha and shook his head. He overheard her tell Jong-Un that she would discuss it with her superiors, but Jong-Un insisted. He would have to go for a ride in the aircraft in order for the sale to go through.
Natasha excused herself and walked with Spectre back to where Kruger and the others were still waiting.
“What’s going on?” Kruger asked.
“The little fat kid wants a ride,” Spectre answered. “We need to tell him no.”
“Well, he can’t ride with me,” Woody said. “I’ve only got one engine, brah.”
Natasha looked back over her shoulder. Jong-Un was posing for pictures in front of the aircraft with the general. She shook her head as she looked back at Kruger. “We have no choice.”
“What do you mean, we have no choice?” Spectre asked. “Of course we do!”
“I’m afraid not,” Natasha said. “It will be seen as a sign of disrespect and may prompt a call to Moscow.”
“Well, we can’t take him with us across the border,” Spectre said and then looked at Kruger. “Can we?”
“We’re not kidnapping the North Korean dictator, bub,” Kruger said. "But this could work out for us."
“How?” Spectre asked. “And how long before....you know what happens to you know who?”
“Relax, bub,” Kruger said before turning to Woody. “But you may not like the plan.”
“Oh, great!”