by Nick Svolos
“You say that as if I’ve already agreed to go. Which I haven’t,” my big fat mouth said without spending any time in consultation with my brain.
Herculene half-whispered, “Reuben!” and stared at me in astonishment. Other than her exclamation, the room was silent and all eyes were on me. I regretted my phrasing. I should probably have been more diplomatic, but I didn’t regret the content.
Oh, well. Nothing to do now but forge ahead. “Guys,” I addressed The Angels, “you can’t do this. It’s a trap.”
“Mr. Conway, I can assure you…” the diplomat started to explain.
I cut her off. “Pardon me, Madam Assistant Secretary, but I don’t think you can assure me. Glorious Leader has no intention of allowing The Angels to inspect his facilities, and I’m pretty sure you know it.”
Herculene’s face glowed red with embarrassment, and the General leapt to his feet. “Now see here, Mr. Conway!”
I raised my hand calmly. “Easy there, General. My intention isn’t to be rude, but to speak the truth. Please allow me to explain myself.”
“Yeah, let’s hear him out,” SpeedDamon said.
I silently cast a thousand blessings on him for his support. My insides were tied up in knots, but I did my best to maintain a poker face and keep my voice calm. “Let’s start with the ‘inspection’. How long has the U.N. been trying to get inspectors into the North Korean nuke facilities? Since the nineties, at least. In 2006 we all found out how effective that was. Even if you guys managed to get into those facilities, you wouldn’t find anything. They know how to hide stuff, stall, misdirect inspections, and generally monkey-wrench the whole process.
“But, we all know the real reason you won’t find anything. It’s because there’s nothing there. We all know this is a frame-up, we just can’t prove it. And searching North Korea won’t accomplish anything, because you can’t prove a negative. So, that sets me to wondering why our government wants to send you. After all, you’d be much more useful here at home, looking for whoever’s really behind all this. The only reason I can come up with is that they’re sending you to buy time. How am I doing, Madam Assistant Secretary?”
She exhaled slowly, clearly struggling to maintain her air of diplomatic detachment. “Yes, Mr. Conway, you are correct. The President believes he can force the legislature to delay the vote if we have assets on the ground. The Angels’ presence would buy us the time for our intelligence agencies to unravel this mess.”
“It’s a good plan. I’d be totally on board with it, but there’s one thing you’re missing, and I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt on this and assume you actually did miss it. Once they’re on the ground, Glorious Leader is going to have them all arrested.”
“This is ridiculous!” the General declared. “He’s not going to risk starting the very war we’re trying to prevent!”
“Of course not, General. That’s exactly why he’s going to arrest them. Think about it. What does he do every time his back is against the wall? He grabs hostages. Uses them as bargaining chips. When he killed off the Kims and took over the country, what did he do? He grabbed the ambassadors from every country that signed on to the sanctions and held them until they were lifted. When the IAEA started getting too close to figuring out where he’s building the ICBMs he’s been testing, he grabbed those missionaries until the U.N. backed off. Since the drought started, he’s grabbed five foreign reporters to keep the cheap food coming in. It’s what he does. It’s what he always does.” I looked around the room at the heroes. “Guys, Glorious Leader knows that the U.S. wouldn’t dare escalate the conflict if he has you all locked up in containment cells. That’s why the deal is all or nothing. If a few of you were left running around free, you could pull off a rescue. This is a trap. It’s straight out of Supervillain 101.”
“I must admit, this is what I would do,” Suave ventured.
“We have no conclusive intelligence that indicates the North Koreans have containment technology,” Kirk stated flatly.
Okay, now I was starting to regret giving her the benefit of the doubt. I was beginning to wonder if getting The Angels captured was part of their plan all along. “Madam, do you expect me to believe that, in a country full of nuke plants that don’t seem to generate any electricity, G.L. hasn’t got one setup to produce Kunai particles?”
The General looked like he was about to explode. “Conway, I’ve had just about enough of your mouth.”
Things were getting heated and my brain and I agreed we really should reign this in before it got out of hand, but my mouth slipped the leash and “I hear that a lot, General. And yet, I’m still talking,” came out instead. Right away, I regretted it, but it was done. I’d pushed too hard, and the shocked looks from around the table, looks from people I respected, confirmed it. The look on Herculene’s face was almost more than I could bear. I looked down at the table in shame.
“Gentlemen,” Ultiman took the floor back with a commanding tone, “This is getting us nowhere. For the record, I believe Mr. Conway’s analysis is correct. The President is asking us to go to North Korea, and there is the distinct possibility that we will become hostages. Madam Assistant Secretary, do you have anything to add?”
She sat back down in defeat. “No. The President is aware of the risk and deemed it acceptable when balanced against the likelihood of war.”
“That is enough for me,” Ultiman said, turning his attention to the rest of his team. “Angels, we must be unanimous in this decision. Our President has called on us. I cannot refuse. I vote we go.”
“Dammit,” Three Dollar Bill said. “I don’t like it, but if you’re going, I’m going.”
“Yeah,” Herculene said, her words tying my heart into a slipknot. “Me, too.”
And that was that. One by one, the remaining Angels nodded their assent. I wanted to scream, but I forced myself to remain silent. They were heroes. This was what they did.
“Madam Assistant Secretary, you may inform the President that The Angels will do as he requests. When would you like us to depart?”
“As soon as possible,” she stammered, clearly surprised at the sudden change in her fortune. “We have a jet waiting for you at LAX.”
“That won’t be necessary, we will provide our own transportation” came his matter-of-fact reply.
The General didn’t like the sound of that. “Are you sure that’s wise? If the North Koreans decide to take your plane apart…”
“There is nothing in the AngelJet that they have not seen before, General. Besides, it should be interesting to see them try. Our aircraft is more than capable of defending itself.” He rose to his feet. “Angels, we leave within the hour. Please make the necessary arrangements. Mr. Jefferson, the Tower is yours. You will find instructions on your terminal should you require assistance during our absence.”
He turned to Kirk. “There is one more item to settle. Mr. Conway will not be joining us.” He held up a hand to silence her objection before she could make it. “Glorious Leader does not need another hostage. The Angels will be sufficient, should it come to that. Besides, he is working on another matter. One of perhaps greater importance.” Then he turned his gaze my way. “Mr. Conway, I think it would be for the best if our absence was kept quiet for as long as possible. Do you agree?”
I did, but before I could answer, Drummond interjected menacingly, “Oh, I can see to that.”
That earned him an icy glare from the blue-clad hero. “General Drummond, I wish to be perfectly clear, so I will speak bluntly. I am holding you personally accountable for Mr. Conway’s safety and freedom. If I learn that he has been hindered or harmed in any way, you will answer to me. Do you have any questions?”
The color drained from Drummond’s face as he looked into Ultiman’s eyes, and I was pretty sure he saw only death. A messy one that took a long time and resulted in the sort of funeral where they keep the casket closed. “Uh, yeah,” he replied in a faltering croak. “Sure.”
�
��Thank you.” He returned his attention to the rest of the room. “If there is nothing else, this meeting is adjourned. We all have a great deal of work to do.”
We all got up and started filtering into the elevators. I looked to Herculene, but she refused to meet my gaze. Her face was set in stone. Once we got into the elevator, she jabbed the button for the thirty-first floor hard enough to create a small crack in the plastic. When we got to her floor, she left the car without a word, but grabbed my arm in a vice-like grip, pulling me into her quarters behind her. I guessed she was upset about my exchange with the government people. My bowels tightened in expectation of the ass-chewing I knew was coming.
She took a deep breath, straining to maintain her control, and waited for the elevator doors to close before starting in. “Reuben, what the hell is going on?”
“Yeah, I know, I kinda went overboard in there. I shouldn’t have let that General guy get to me. I’m very sorry.”
“Oh, don’t even get me started on that! I’m talking about you lying to me. It’s obvious you and Ultiman are cooking something up. If you can’t tell me about it, just say so. But don’t lie to me. I won’t stand for it.”
“Huh?” I stammered in bafflement, “What… Babe, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Really? You didn’t meet with Ultiman before the meeting?”
“No. I told you, I’ve been in the science lab all morning.”
“Bullshit, Reuben. Archangel, play back ‘Mister Conway’s’ itinerary since he arrived at the Tower this morning.”
Archangel’s feminine voice emanated from some point between us, “Mr. Conway arrived at the parking level at 8:57 AM. Mr. Conway checked in at the security desk at 8:59 AM. Mr. Conway arrived at the Science Facility at 9:05 AM. Mr. Conway returned to the security desk at 9:50 AM. Mr. Conway arrived at the Briefing Room at 9:56 AM. Mr. Conway arrived at your quarters at 10:23 AM. Mr. Conway is currently in your quarters. Shall I project likely future movements for Mr. Conway?”
“Wait a minute. You told me he was in Ultiman’s quarters before the meeting.”
“I’m afraid I have no record of such an event, Herculene.”
“Well I sure as hell do! Has someone messed with your memory, Archangel?”
“Running diagnostic. Diagnostic complete. There are no inconsistencies in my storage integrity, Herculene.”
“Archangel off,” she said angrily. “Reuben, I’m gonna give you one last chance to come clean. If we start lying to each other, this is over. I can’t live that way. Please, just tell me the truth.” Her voice cracked, her eyes were desperate, and I could see the tears coming close behind.
My chest felt tight, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe right. My mind and body were numb. Something wonderful was dying, and I couldn’t stop it. I reached out and touched her arm. “Helen, honey, I don’t know what to say. I want to tell you what you want to hear, but I can’t. Because then I would be lying to you, and I won’t do that. Ever.”
She shrugged my hand off and turned away. “Go,” she said softly. “Just go. I have to pack.”
“Helen,..”
“Go!”
So I went. The sound of her sobbing haunted me as the elevator doors closed behind me.
IX
I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. My girl thought I was lying to her, and there was nothing I could do to convince her otherwise. She and the rest of the Angels were flying into a trap, and there was nothing I could do to prevent that, either.
I don’t deal well with change, and I sure as hell don’t deal well with losing the things that matter to me. I still lived in the apartment I got when I graduated from college. I still drove the same car I bought when I was a teenager, although in my defense, it’s a pretty bitchin’ car. I still used the same crappy laptop they gave me when I started at the Beacon. How long has it been? Ten, maybe twelve years ago. Hell, for that matter, I was still working at the first place that ever hired me.
Helen was what mattered most, and it felt like I was losing her. I tried to tell myself it was a fight, not a break-up. We’d work through this, I told myself. I didn’t believe it.
Monday, that cagey bastard, had turned the tables on me. It looked like it was going to win. I wanted to go get a bottle of scotch, find a spot on the beach and let it.
Instead, I went on fighting. I went to work.
Dawson had his command post set up in a vacant apartment above a carniceria about a half block from Jefferson Plaza, so I went there. I parked the truck at the pay-and-park lot and walked the rest of the way, entering through the alley as I’d been instructed.
“You look like hell, Conway,” Dawson observed.
“It’s been a bad morning. Gimme something to do.”
“Okay. Is your backup plan in place?”
I nodded. “Should be.” I walked over to the window and picked up a pair of binoculars. I could see the trio of gang members sitting on the steps outside the front door. They looked like different guys. Whatever gang ran the place might have had plenty of problems, but manpower didn’t seem to be one of them. I shifted the view a few doors down and saw what I was looking for. “Yep, he’s in place.”
“Good. Didja get anything from the geeks?”
I told him what Austin’s team had figured out so far about Force.
“Nanotech, huh? Isn’t that what turned Mechanista into what she is?”
“Yeah, sort of.” I scratched my chin at the thought. “They were trying to cure her Leukemia by using nanobots to regenerate her bone marrow. Something went wrong and the ‘bots went nuts. Converted her whole body. Drove her insane in the process. Think it might be related?”
“I learned a long time ago that there ain’t no such thing as a coincidence. Worth running down, at any rate.” Dawson got on the phone to get somebody working that angle.
The next thirty-six or so hours were the sort that get left on the editing room floor when they’re making cop shows. These were the boring hours, filled with idle conversation, coffee and junk food. The kind of hours where your backside starts to hurt from sitting so long. As the embedded reporter, Dawson rotated me through the teams and their surveillance positions. This gave me a chance to get to know the team and their procedures, which suited me just fine. I passed the time doing what I do best, asking questions.
Most of the cops were helpful when it came to answering procedural questions but less interested in answering questions about themselves or their tactics. I couldn’t really blame them. There are plenty of reasons for cops to be suspicious of reporters. Some guys in my business make their living off tripping people up like that. It sells papers and gets you spots on news shows. I try not to cross that line, myself. I’d rather build relationships with people to the point where they trust me enough to tell me the truth, but most of these people didn’t know that. It took time to build up that sort of trust.
I learned a lot from the process, but the most interesting thing I learned was just how hard this sort of work is. Keeping your attention focused for a full twelve-hour shift is damned near impossible, especially when your job is waiting for something to happen and that event stubbornly refuses to occur. I managed to last about seven hours, and I had a lot more freedom to roam around than the cops did. I went home at around eight PM to grab some sleep.
My alarm went off a little before one AM. I got up and switched on the television. If my calculations were correct, The Angels would be landing in Pyongyang in a few minutes. With grim foreboding, I clicked over to a cable news channel and sat down to watch Glorious Leader spring his trap.
They were relaying a live feed from the state-run Korean Central News Agency with a translator interpreting the commentary. At around 4:30 PM Pyongyang time, the AngelJet landed at Sunan International Airport as a crowd of about ten thousand civilians cheered their arrival. Large banners fluttered in the light evening breeze. According to the commentators, they bore messages of welcome. The AngelJet taxied up to a designated
area where a red carpet and bandstand had been set up. Several party leaders were present to greet the team and, as they disembarked from the plane, the whole thing looked like The Angels were getting a heroes’ welcome.
Then the tanks and soldiers revealed themselves.
Emerging from concealed positions, the North Korean war machine quickly surrounded the area. They leveled their guns, not at the Angels or their plane, but at the civilian crowd. The crowd stood in place and kept cheering as several trucks rolled up. They were squat and heavy, built like armored transports. Just the sort of thing that would hold mobile containment cells. Ultiman didn’t have much in the way of choices at that point. The team could stand and fight, trying in vain to stop the troops from opening fire on the civilians, or stand down. He chose the latter. The Angels meekly walked over to the trucks and were driven from view.
According to the translator, the KCNA was now reporting that Ultiman had been arrested as a war criminal. By way of evidence, they offered my own reporting from earlier in the year that he had fought in the Korean War as Major Justice. I winced, guessing that’s why Glorious Leader wanted me there so badly. He wanted to use me as a witness if he decided to stage a trial. The other Angels were being charged with espionage. That was pretty much the default charge whenever they decided to grab foreigners over there.
I felt a dull ache in my left hand, and I realized I’d been gripping the arm of the couch with increasing force as I watched the spectacle. I shook it out to release the tension. I looked at my watch. It was about twenty minutes after one. I had to hand it to Glorious Leader. He was efficient if nothing else.
The Korean feed cut, and the overnight anchorman scrambled to fill time while his producers found people to do commentary. My phone rang. I turned off the TV and answered it. As I thought, it was one of the producers, asking me to come on the air and comment on The Angels’ capture. It looked like I didn’t have any more choice in this than Ultiman did. We all had our parts to play. I got up to start a pot of coffee while I waited for them to put me on the air.
