by Basil Sands
“No problem,” said Wakowski. “Go ahead and take the trash.”
Chun moved toward the trashcan beside the bed. He reached down with his rubber-gloved hand to pick it up and started to move away. Kim turned his face toward him.
When their eyes met, the janitor froze. The half-raised trashcan hung in Chun’s hand. “You,” growled Mr. Chun in Korean. “I know you.”
“I do not know you,” replied Kim.
The janitor’s face became stone cold and serious. “But I know you, Kim Cho Pil. I could never forget your face.” Chun backed away like a wary animal cornered by a carnivorous beast.
“Cho Pil? You obviously have me mistaken for someone else, Mr. …uh…” He squinted at the nametag, “Chun.”
The janitor turned and walked back to the door. He glanced into the eyes of both the troopers as he left. His eyes were filled with both fear and sorrow.
Wyatt followed him out the door. “Mr. Chun,” she said, “you know him?”
“Yes.”
“From here in town?”
“No, from Korea.”
“How do you know him?”
“He is Kim Cho Pil, and when I knew him, he was a lieutenant in the South Korean Army. He was commander of a team of ROK Rangers in the late sixties.”
“South Korean?”
“He was in the South Korean Army, but later he was a North Korean Spy, planted in our Army to cause havoc. He would cross the border into North Korea with orders to assassinate officers and other soldiers. But he was not really killing anyone across the border. Instead, he was smuggling documents and reporting on South Korean spies and agents. My father was his commander in the ROK Army, and had discovered his lies. The bastard came to our house that same night and murdered my father and mother, and my little brother who was asleep on my mother’s lap. I was in another room and managed to rescue my baby sister by hiding with her under the floorboards of our house. I was only ten years old, but I saw his face clearly and knew it was Kim Cho Pil.”
“That was a long time ago, Mr. Chun. Are you sure it’s the same man?”
“I cannot be mistaken. He came to my house often when I was a child. If you look on his lower back, on the right side, there are three parallel scars, long gashes he got from barbed wire when crossing the border one night. He showed me and the other boys the scar to brag about how tough he was.”
“Are you willing to testify to this in court?”
“Yes, of course. I would go to hell to punish that man. He murdered my parents and my six-year-old brother before my eyes. I would do anything to destroy him.”
“Thank you, Mr. Chun. I will contact you again later as needed. I am sorry for your family.”
“Don’t be sorry for my family. That was almost forty years ago. Instead, grant me my revenge.”
“I will do the best I can.”
Chapter 23
Farmer’s Loop Road
Fairbanks, Alaska
Nikola had dumped the red Dodge Dakota truck in a wooded area off Skyline Road several miles from Farmer’s Loop Road on the north side of Fairbanks. He had put it in four-wheel drive and driven into the trees until the snow and undergrowth ground into the undercarriage. He got out, tossed the keys into the snowy woods, and left the truck.
Adem waited on the road in a dark green all-wheel drive Subaru Forester that had been parked in the garage at their new house on Panorama Drive. Nikola got into the passenger side and they drove back toward Fairbanks, following Farmer’s Loop Road until the curve at which it turned back into University Boulevard. From there, they turned west onto Geist Road and drove back to Mr. Kim’s house.
“I can’t believe we didn’t take the spare units the first time,” Adem said. “We don’t want to be out there with no spares.”
“We were in a hurry. Anyway, I know exactly where they are,” Nikola answered. “They are in the upstairs closet with the weapons. While there, we should grab some extra ammunition and maybe another pistol or two as well, just in case.”
Red-and-blue lights flashed and rotated near the house. Adem slowed the vehicle. A police officer started toward them with his hand up. Adem stopped the vehicle before they were close enough to be recognized. He flipped the turn signal and went down a side street that would take them back out of the neighborhood.
As Adem pulled the vehicle around the corner, Nikola stared out the passenger side window toward Kim’s house. Two people in bulky bombproof armor crossed the road and entered the house. An ambulance pulled away and started in their direction. Two trooper vehicles were with it, one in front and one behind. Nikola stared in disbelief.
Adem said, “We had better inform the others.”
They went back to the house on Panorama Drive, a large, blocky design from the seventies with a three-car garage added on to the side. It was situated on about an acre of heavily treed land. Several other houses were nearby, but none were visible. Nor was this house visible to the others through the thick layers of dark spruce, white birch, and tangled willow that surrounded it.
Adem drove quickly up the two-hundred-foot-long driveway and into the garage. He parked next to a maroon Ford Explorer that was parked in the outer most space.
The men got out of the car and went inside. As they entered the dark house, the glow of a pair of headlights shone in the front windows. They both dropped to their knees and pulled pistols from their waistbands.
“Shit!” Adem cursed. “How did they find us!”
Nikola duck-walked to the front window and peeked through the slit between the curtains. A lone white Chevy Suburban came to a stop in front of the house. The engine turned off and four men got out, wearing parkas and snow pants. A feeling of relief flushed over Nikola. “It is one of the teams of Koreans.”
He walked across the room, turned on the light, and opened the door.
“Brothers, how did it go?” He asked in English.
“Be quiet!” one of them replied harshly. “Go inside.”
The four Korean men entered the house and closed the door. They removed their winter clothes immediately, without talking. After a long period of silence, Adem grew impatient. “Well? Are you going to tell us what is going on? Did you find it?”
“Yes,” replied their leader, Lieutenant Shin Kwang Yu. “But something went wrong. We have two boxes of the substance. The rest of the team was to follow us within an hour with several more boxes.”
“And?” Nikola asked.
“When we got to the truck, we heard gunshots coming from the site. A lot of gunshots. They were from our teams’ weapons, but we heard no return fire from anyone else.”
“What happened?” Adem asked.
“I think they were ambushed by men with suppressed weapons.” Shin paused to finish taking off his snow pants, then continued. “We may need to get out of here quickly. I need to call Mr. Kim.”
“We have bad news, too,” Adem replied. “Mr. Kim has been arrested. We saw police at his house not more than thirty minutes ago.”
“God damn it! Why didn’t you say that sooner!” Shin shouted.
“Wait!” Nikola said. “No one knows we are here. This house has no connection to Kim and cannot be traced to him. This is the safest place for us right now, especially with those vials of poison.”
“Did you see Mr. Kim being taken?”
“No, but as we pulled up, someone was being put in an ambulance, which left the house under guard.”
“Why didn’t you follow them?”
“We did not want to be recognized.”
“Recognized? Why would anyone be suspicious of you?”
“We shot a police officer last night.”
“You did what?” Shin exclaimed, a look of shock on his face.
“We shot a policeman,” Adem muttered in response.
“Idiots!” Shin shouted. “Why did you do that? You stupid, sons of bitches! I should just shoot you myself! I can’t believe they sent such stupid men to work with us!”
Nikola waved his hands in defense as he tried to explain. “Somehow they found out we had stolen the TVEC truck. The officer came to the house to question us. As we opened the door, we heard a dispatcher tell him that we were armed and dangerous, and possible terrorists. Backup was on the way. We would’ve been caught if we waited. So we shot him, changed vehicles at Mr. Kim’s, and came here.”
“Ah shangno museki!” Shin cursed in Korean. He paced around the living room, considering the options. He stopped in the center of the room. “If we don’t hear from Mr. Kim by midnight,” he said, “we will assume that he is out of the game. We will give Captain Park and the rest of the team the same amount of time. If they are not here within the next hour, I will take command, and we will move on with what we have left.” He turned to his soldiers. “Do you all understand?”
“Yes, sir!” said the three North Korean soldiers.
Nikola and Adem nodded their heads.
“You men go get cleaned up and put on fresh clothes. We may have to leave soon,” Shin said.
He turned to the two Albanians. “How many disrupters do you have with you?”
“We have two.” Nikola replied.
“How about the teams in Anchorage and Valdez?”
“They should have three each. Two of ours were at Mr. Kim’s house, and we can presume the police have them now.”
“Call your other teams and tell them to be ready to go as scheduled. If Captain Park is not here soon, I will take some of the vials with me and Sergeant Sun and head to Anchorage. Sergeants Kil and Cho will stay here and prepare for the deployment in Fairbanks. You two will continue with your original plan.”
“What about Valdez?” asked Sergeant Cho.
“Valdez will have to wait. If there is enough left after Anchorage, I will to get over to Valdez, but we will have to see how that goes. In the meantime, let’s hope Captain Park arrives safely and we can continue as originally planned. Either way, within twenty-four hours we will be done, and hopefully on our way back home.”
Lieutenant Shin glanced at his watch. It was just after 21:00 hours.
Chapter 24
Fairbanks Memorial Hospital
Fairbanks Alaska
19 December
23:09 Hours
Special Agent Anthony Tomer, FBI, arrived at the hospital just after eleven o’clock. He was tall, over six feet, and about twenty pounds overweight. Tomer’s belly pushed at the buttons on his black suit jacket. Crow’s feet wrinkles stretched from the buttonholes. He wore a blue silk tie loosened several inches from the neck. A tuft of thick brown chest hair jutted into view above the open top button of his white dress shirt.
A charcoal-gray wool overcoat hung over his body. It flapped around his knees with every step he took. A highly polished gold ring, topped by a diamond-inlaid black onyx stone, flashed on his right pinky. One hairy wrist was wrapped by a Rolex watch. The other sported a thick gold chain, its links dangled beneath his cuff, held tight by matching gold cuff links.
Unknown to him, his sense of fashion had earned him the nickname “Mafia-Disco-Pimp” among the other agents.
Tomer flashed his badge at Faloa, who buzzed him into the secure wing. He strode directly to the nurses’ station and flashed a flirtatious smile at an attractive nurse reading the contents of a clipboard toward the back of the open area behind the counter.
A younger woman sat below the lip of the counter, leaning over a page and writing on it. She glanced up briefly as Tomer peered over the counter, then back down at her paperwork. The nurse looked up from her clipboard. “I’ll take care of him. You get that report done.” She looked at Tomer with a stewardess-like lifeless smile. “Can I help you?”
“Hello there, darling.”
Tomer’s smile widened. An eyebrow curved upward in an impish James Bond-like smirk. He looked at her nametag. His gaze drifted from the nametag and focused on her breasts then he slid his eyes up to her face as he read the tag. “Tanana Billings, RN. Wow, what an exotic name.”
Tanana stepped toward the counter. As she drew near, she coughed and nearly gagged as she caught a whiff of Tomer’s cologne. She curled her nose at the bittersweet isopropyl stench and waved her hand through the air between them. Her eyes watered. “Whoa! What is that smell?”
“Sexual Addiction,” he said in a wolfish tone. “It often has that effect on women.”
He flashed his badge at her, letting it dangle in the air. “Tony Tomer, FBI. Large and in charge. Could you point me to Commander Stark? Before she could answer, he added, “And maybe a candlelight dinner and drinks at my place?”
The nurse rolled her eyes at his tacky come-on. She pointed to a hallway bustling with troopers.
“Last I saw, he was over there, with all those other troopers.” Sarcasm lay heavy on her voice. “And by the way, I don’t think he’s gay, so you’ll have to find a different dinner partner.”
The younger nurse, still looking down at her paperwork, lost control and snorted a laugh that made her whole body convulse.
Tomer’s face reddened as he registered the nurse’s insult. He turned to the hall Nurse Tanana had indicated and saw Commander Stark talking with several troopers and police officers.
Agent Tomer made eye contact with Commander Stark and immediately started into a long stride to the clustered group of troopers and their commander.
“Oh, geez,” Stark muttered under his breath. “Why did they have to send that idiot? Is everyone else on leave or something?”
“What the hell, Stark?” Tomer said in a bowling alley braggart tone as he approached. “Why wasn’t the FBI called on this thing sooner? Terrorism is our turf, not AST’s. When are you cowboys going to learn? No matter—the FBI is on scene, large and in charge.”
The other officers let out groans and shook their heads as they turned and left.
“Tomer,” Stark responded in a deep, even tone, “Mind your manners. We called once we knew for sure it was terrorism and not just gang activity. I didn’t want to waste my time having the report stuck at the bottom of your ‘suspected terrorism’ list. Waiting until we had bodies was the only way we could ensure your quick response.”
“Bodies? I thought it was one body,” Tomer said.
“Things have changed.” Stark replied. “Follow me. I’ll give you the full scoop.”
Stark led the FBI agent into a conference room the hospital had set aside as his temporary command center.
Commander Stark had never liked Tomer. The FBI agent, although he was considerably younger than Stark, treated him like a subordinate instead of a peer. He reminded the trooper commander of a pushy used-car salesman, or a loud-mouthed pimp.
Tomer was a federal jerk-off who gave a bad name to the employees of the US government. He had been stationed in Alaska as punishment for pissing off too many people with his attempts at butt-kissing around their headquarters in Virginia. Stark had been warned of his coming by a FBI friend, Steven Michaels, assistant director of anti-terrorism training at the National Police Academy.
“Bob, we’re sending you a live one. He’s a good investigator, but has a loud mouth and an attitude that seems to piss off everyone he makes eye contact with. He had been selected for the Tampa anti-drug unit, but ran into the Tampa SAC at a bar up here and made a pretty bad impression when he hit on the chief’s much-younger wife. His assignment came from the top, so there’s nothing I can do about it. Just wanted to let you know so you could be prepared.”
When Tomer first arrived, Stark tried to give him the benefit of a doubt. At their first meeting a little over a year ago, Tomer seemed intelligent and not at all like Michaels had said. Stark thought perhaps it was just a case of bad timing or that maybe the youngster had learned something and wouldn’t be so bad as his friend had said.
That impression was quickly dispelled on their second meeting, when Agent Tomer joined him and several other emergency services chiefs for the Alaska Homeland Security Conference. Within twenty minutes of arrival, Tomer ha
d managed to insult nearly everyone in the room with a combination of his attitude and several poorly selected phrases demonstrating that he felt himself to be the final word on law enforcement.
“After all,” he said, “I am the only federal agent here. Therefore, I am the senior ranking officer. I expect full cooperation in all law enforcement and Homeland Security matters from each of the subordinate state and local agencies.”
He had said this despite the fact that the closest person in the room to his age was five years older and had been in law enforcement ten years longer.
Things such as this did little to endear him to rest of the emergency services or law enforcement community. In a little less than a year, Tomer had effectively alienated himself from everyone who could have made his job easier. And he still didn’t get it.
“Tony. Here’s the situation.” Stark laid out the details of the raid, bringing him to the current point in time. “Kim, it seems, is not who we originally thought. The suspect who killed himself called him Colonel Kim, and said that he himself was a lieutenant in the North Korean Army. He also mentioned that they work for a general.”
“Military men?”
“Seems that way. Just about half an hour ago, one of the janitors here, a South Korean immigrant named Joseph Chun, claimed he recognized Kim as a North Korean agent who had massacred his family back in the sixties. We’re checking on the name now, but this guy is starting to appear to be a possible mastermind or second-in-command behind some sort of plot, possibly involving weapons of mass destruction.”
“Man. This is potentially very big, then.” Tomer rubbed his fingers thoughtfully across his chin. “What about those things you thought were bombs?”
“Our guys at the crime lab are looking at them, but can’t really figure it out. There’s a guy at Tanana Valley Electric, one of their new dispatchers who grew up here, named Franklin Eckert. He was an electronic warfare special weapons expert in the Navy until about a year ago. His security clearance is still active, so we’ve given him a call to see if he can figure out what these things might be so we don’t have to ship them out to the state lab in Anchorage.”
