by Roger Weston
She gasped for breath. “He grabbed me, he grabbed me from behind-- Why?”
“I’m getting you out of here,” Frank said. “We’re going to Seoul.”
“Who were they?” Abby said trembling.
“We were followed yesterday.”
Her eyes opened wide and her mouth tightened. “What? You knew about them?”
Frank looked over at her, then back at the road.
“Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you say anything last night?”
“He disappeared. After you dropped me—”
“Oh my God. I can’t believe this. They were going to kill me!”
Abby turned and looked out the back window for a moment. “That man said I’d never be seen again.” She was breathing deeply and slowly. She kept remembering the strong garlic odor of her attacker’s breath. She crossed her arms around her tightly and sank down into the seat.
Frank drove to the bus station and retrieved his bag. Then they were driving again. He said something to her, but she wasn’t listening.
“How do I get to Seoul?” he demanded.
She looked over at him for a moment. “Take a right, I mean a left, up at the light. That’ll take us north.”
Neither of them spoke for a long time. Abby was feeling nauseated. She rolled down the window for fresh air, but it was too cold outside, so she quickly closed it. She squeezed herself as tightly as she could with her arms, but couldn’t stay warm.
Frank turned on the heat. “What did they say?”
Abby uncrossed her arms, relaxing a little in the warmth of the heat.
“Tell me what he said.”
“The treasure—they wanted to know where it is. What are they talking about?”
“I found treasure on my island.”
“What?”
Frank shook his head. “I asked a colonel in Seoul to do some research for me. I can’t believe he— I’m sorry I’ve gotten you involved in this. Right now the only thing that’s important is keeping you safe.” He looked over at her. “Are you hurt?”
“My neck is a little sore, but it’s fine. I’m just shaken up.”
The gravity of what happened was starting to sink in now. Frank had nearly gotten her killed—and yet he saved her life. She couldn’t go home. If those men struck once, they would strike again.
As they traveled north, Abby felt dizzy. They drove for an hour and she said nothing more, neither of them did. She watched countryside speed past and felt as though Frank Murdoch and the treasure and the attack were all a dream. It must have been a dream and she was going to wake up . . . but then she fell asleep . . . She woke later feeling groggy and looked over at him. She was so tired . . . Who was he? . . . She was sleeping . . . She was safe . . . And she felt his hand gently tugging on her shoulder, nudging her awake.
“How far to Seoul?” he said, his voice strong, gentle, and comforting.
She checked the map. “Another hour and a half.”
“You were out cold for hours,” he said. “How do you feel?”
“I’m okay.”
“You’re sure you’re not hurt?”
“I’m alright.” She squeezed her sore neck muscles while directing him through the city. He kept looking over at her with a concerned expression on his face. “What now?” she said.
He turned and drove down a back street. “I want you to go back to Kiska with me till I can sort this all out.”
“Oh, I don’t think so.”
“These people are professionals. They’ll find you no matter where you go. We have to leave the country tomorrow.”
“No, I’m going to my mom’s.”
“Abby, they will find you. You have to come with me.”
She didn’t say anything.
“We’ll leave tomorrow. I have a couple of things I need to do in the morning. While I’m doing that, I want you to buy some clothes for our trip, and a camera to photograph the artifacts.”
For a moment, she realized that she could take credit for the discovery. She thought about fame and riches and being sought after by universities and maybe even National Geographic. But then she remembered the danger they were in.
“Where will we stay tonight?”
“We’ll find a hotel on the outskirts of Seoul.”
Twenty minutes later, they found a small family-run inn and checked in as Mr. and Mrs. Park. This was a common name in Korea, but would also work for an American couple. That night they took a long walk along a country road. They stopped by a field of tiered rice patties.
“I’m scared,” she said.
Frank found himself moved by her soft voice. As he stood there contemplating, she looked up at him, and he found himself pulled in by her dark eyes. “You have to stay with me. That’s the only way I can keep you safe.”
They walked back to the inn. Frank scoped the perimeter first. Once assured no new cars were in sight, they went inside. As Abby settled into the bed, Frank slumped in the chair near the door.
Suddenly a life of killing started reeling through his mind. He winced against the pressure of an oncoming headache. He felt the strangling depression crawling back over him. He saw himself tumbling backwards, falling back into a living hell of his own creation--a dark existence of self-hate. He remembered looking death in the face and then making a wild promise that offered a ray of hope. It was gonna be a long night.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Kyongju
After shutting off the van and killing the headlights, Soo-man got out and went around back. In the pitch-black darkness, he couldn’t even see the dirt road stretching from beneath his feet into the woods in either direction. The hinges creaked as Chull-su pulled open the back door of the van.
Soo-man looked into the back of the van at the body wrapped in bed sheets and duct tape. “We’ve got to do this quickly.”
“You carry him,” Chull-su said.
With his huge hands, Soo-Man pulled on his stocking cap. “Why’d Mok Don bother sending you down here?”
“After your screw up, you’re in no position to ask.”
Soo-man glared at him. “Be careful what you say.” He tossed a clanging pillow case full of junk to him. “Bring the bag.”
Soo-man lifted Auk-il’s rigid body out of the van and over his shoulder.
Chull-su followed. He shined the flashlight ahead of Soo-man, illuminating the trail.
Half way to the mound tomb, Soo-man heaved Auk-il’s body from his right shoulder to his left shoulder. The jolting caused Auk-il to struggle and moan, but the bedsheets and duct tape held fast. After what Auk-il had gone through, Soo-man was amazed he was still conscious.
When Soo-man stepped on the base of his dirt pile, he dropped the body onto the ground. “Get that sheet off him.”
Chull-su cut it away with a razor knife. He pulled the sheet away and left Auk-il naked on the frozen ground, his face and head covered in blood, his cheeks swollen. He tried to open his eyes but they were swollen shut. Chull-su removed the gag. Auk-il moaned in agony.
“You piece of shit,” Soo-man said. “All I told you to do was abduct the woman.” He spit on him. “You screwed up, and I lost face.” He rolled the body into the shallow grave in the side of the huge mound. He could smell the frozen earth. Auk-il gasped and moaned and moved around. Chull-su stepped up beside Soo-man and shined the light down into the pit.
“Get out of my way.”
Chull-su stood back.
Soo-man took the bag from him and dumped the pillow case full of cheap relics onto him. Auk-il groaned when the objects hit him.
“Don’t worry,” Soo-man said. “Ten years from now, archaeologists will probably dig up your bones and pronounce you a Paekche King.”
Soo-man took the shovel and started filling the hole. He shoveled fast. He didn’t want to end up like this. He had to find the Americans.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
November 29th
Mok Don stood gazing out the window of his office across miles
of roofs into the haze. He heard the door to his office open and turned to see Soo-man.
The security director was dressed in a gray suit. He bowed. Mok Don walked over. Soo-man lay a clear plastic sandwich bag on Mok Don’s desk. Through the plastic, Mok Don saw about two dozen blood-stained teeth. He picked up the bag, frowning. “Are they all here?”
“Yes.”
Mok Don dropped the bag in his desk drawer. “Get back to work. I have meetings.”
After Soo-man left, Mok Don returned to the window and looked out across the hazy city. He heard the door to his office open and turned to see Colonel Kim. The colonel bowed deeply, and Mok Don returned the courtesy.
“I’m delighted you were able to see me on such short notice, Colonel.”
“The pleasure is mine.”
“Take a seat. We have a shared interest in mutual profit. Please”--Mok Don gestured--“please take a seat, my friend.”
The colonel sat down, and Mok Don walked over to his four-shelf open étagère, gesturing expansively with his arms: “Choson exhibition piece, crafted from a pear tree, I’m very proud of this antique. How do you like my gold treasures?”
“Spectacular,” the colonel said.
Mok Don gestured to the second shelf. “A fifth century gold cup with an openwork stem from the Old Shilla Dynasty.” He removed the gold cup with two hands and placed it on the desk in front of Colonel Kim.
“Ah.” The colonel inspected the antique, nodding to show his appreciation. “Beautiful.”
From the credenza Mok Don removed a dragon-shaped celadon wine ewer and celadon wine cup. “These, Colonel, are Koryo. I’ve heard a ewer such as this exists that is pure gold.” Mok Don lifted the dragon ewer by the lotus-stem tail, and wine spilled from the dragon’s mouth into the gold cup in front of Colonel Kim. “You are honored today, Colonel. Only I have used that cup, only I and Shilla royalty.” Mok Don set down the dragon ewer in front of the colonel. “And now you.”
After a nervous glance, Colonel Kim stood and bowed three times. He hesitated slightly, then poured wine into Mok Don’s cup. Korean tradition dictated that it was rude to pour your own drink. Colonel Kim set the ewer down and bowed again. “Yes, Mok Don, I am honored, but I don’t know why.”
Mok Don smiled. “But you do,” he said, nodding. “Let us drink.”
The colonel’s eyes were open wide as he took his seat and tipped the gold cup.
Mok Don drank greedily from his 12th-century celadon cup, savoring the aged wine. Then he placed the green ceramic cup on the matching-green companion stand. “I have followed your exploits over the years with affection, Colonel. You have a firm hand in dealing with North Korean defectors. You are right in thinking they must be dealt with severely.”
“I deal with problems in a decisive and direct manner. I do what I have to.”
Mok Don smiled. “I couldn’t agree with you more. I’ve seen you on television, and we have some mutual friends. A man with your . . . abilities. I might have use for such a man one day. And if such an arrangement came to realization, you would do very well indeed. I remember my friends. Favors never go unanswered.” Mok Don saw the reaction. The colonel straightened slightly and showed himself a trifle invigorated at the prospect.
“I’ve heard that an American is researching some antiquities. And you are helping him.”
A severity overcame the colonel’s aspect. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the arms of the chair. “How do you know about this?”
“I am a resourceful man. I know about the shipment the American is researching. And, were I to learn he has actually located this shipment, I would reward you generously. Why are you helping Frank Murdoch?”
“I . . .” The colonel shifted in his chair. “It’s of no consequence.”
“I happen to know, Colonel, that you paid a security guard to get into those archives. That leads me to believe this inquiry is more than frivolous.”
The colonel shifted in his chair.
“Relax.” Mok Don smiled. “I understand your discomfort. Bribes have become a serious matter here in Korea, and you’re sitting with one of the few important men in Korea who hasn’t been accused of paying any. Don’t worry, Colonel. I didn’t summon you here to be your judge. Nor do I intend to report this crime to the authorities. An action like that could jeopardize your career and subject you to public humiliation. I know that won’t be necessary. And that makes me very happy, my friend. I have no desire to add fuel to their political witch hunt.”
The colonel took a deep breath and sat back. He stared attentively at Mok Don.
“But I need answers,” Mok Don said. “Why are you helping the American? Are you partners?”
The colonel raised his open hands. “I am doing him a favor, that’s all.”
“You are old friends then.”
“No. Absolutely not.”
“What about the girl? Is she the one who found the treasure?”
“What girl?”
“He is paying you for your services.”
The colonel cleared his throat. “A soldier of fortune fights for the highest bidder. Or the strongest leader. Better to join the strong than perish with the weak. I have given these matters much thought.”
Mok Don grinned. “If you assured me that the American had actually discovered this treasure, I would reward you richly.”
“No. You don’t understand. I can’t get involved.” He lowered his hands and touched the metals at his breast. “You speak of my future. If I betray the American, I’ll have no future. He will kill me.”
“What?” Mok Don hissed. “You’re a colonel in the Korean army. You should fear no man.”
“He will kill you, Mok Don.”
Mok Don narrowed his eyes. “You must be joking if you think I’d let an American pig get in my way. There are few Americans who I couldn’t buy and sell with my spare change.”
“You don’t know what sort of man you’re dealing with here.”
“Tell me.”
“The risk is too great. I would be forced to leave the country. Go into hiding.”
“If you don’t cooperate, you may not be so fortunate.”
The colonel stared at Mok Don. He shook his head, laughing. “The man you call Frank Murdoch, I know as John Blake. He’s assassinated terrorists all over the world. You don’t want to attract his attention. You may be famous and powerful, but that won’t matter to a man like him--no more than it matters to a machine. Make one mistake and he’ll bury both of us.”
“He’s a fisherman.” Mok Don waved him off in disgust.
“He’s your worst nightmare.”
Mok Don squinted. “How is it you know so much about this man?”
“It’s my job to know.”
“And how did the American happen to contact you about this treasure?”
The colonel shifted toward the window, his body rigid. Mok Don was amazed at the colonel’s outward display of pressure. He would have made a poor general.
“Many years ago, he was hired to train our special forces operating in the demilitarized zone. I met him then. And he remembered me.” The colonel started to smile, but the corners of his mouth turned down quickly. “I never imagined I would betray John Blake.”
Mok Don felt a vile impulse run rank in his body. “Relax, Colonel, you’re going to pull the arms right out of my chair. Do you know what that chair is worth? Are you aware of the place such an antique holds in Korean history?” Mok Don rose quickly. “No! Because your loyalties are to foreigners. Just make sure you don’t betray me, my friend. Or John Blake will be the least of your worries.”
The colonel started to say something but stopped himself.
“My friend,” Mok Don said, “my dear friend. I need to know more about this man. You’re giving me generalities. I need specifics.”
Colonel Kim’s head was shaking even before Mok Don finished speaking. “I don’t know any more. But there is someone else who can tell you more about Blake.”
>
“And who is that?”
Colonel Kim winced, a contortion twisting on his face. A fatalistic sigh… “The President.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Colonel Kim’s sleek black Grandeur approached the parking lot exit gate at DowKai International headquarters. Reflecting on the astounding meeting with Mok Don, Colonel Kim couldn’t help examining the barb-wire fences surrounding the grim facility. Something about those barbed fences reminded him that he would have to face John Blake--no way out, the meeting was set.
He hadn’t completely betrayed the man, but he pointed Mok Don in the right direction. He cursed in disgust. Who was he fooling? He betrayed probably the most dangerous man in the world. Now he had to face him and remain totally calm.
The colonel recalled his first meeting with Blake years before, ushering him to a meeting with a general in the Korean army. He was told who John Blake was and what it meant when the man showed up for a meeting. The explosive events that followed allowed Colonel Kim to surmise the rest. And they all went down. Only Blake vanished amidst the chaos.
The gate opened automatically, and he drove out of the parking lot.
First he would go to the National Museum, then back to the military base. The sooner he got this meeting over, the better. He headed south.
Three blocks behind the colonel’s car, another car moved with the flow of traffic. Inside were the Park brothers, Chull-su and Hyun.
The taller brother, Chull-su, drove the car. He was an emaciated man in a wrinkled black suit. With a half-drunk can of warm beer, he washed down a packet of pills and tossed the empty can into the back seat.
In the passenger’s seat, Hyun looked slowly up from his notebook computer. His goatee was impeccably trimmed, his hair slicked back.
“You look worse today,” he said, tapping on the notebook computer in his lap with carefully manicured fingernails.
“Don’t talk,” Chull-su said, edging the car forward. He felt his anger creeping back upon him as he thought of his wife. Bonded under Confucian rule, she used to nurse him every morning as was proper--until she read about the American women who don’t submit to their abusive husbands. When Chull-su drank too much, his wife’s eyes got black in the morning. Now she was threatening to leave him. He looked at his brother and said, “Where’s the colonel?”
