by Oliver North
Hafner waved some waterlogged counterfeit bills in the air. “These are ruined. We can’t go back to Headquarters with soaked bills.”
“They’d still be counterfeit, wouldn’t they?” said Jake, deciding to prolong the ASAC’s suffering by waiting to tell him $2.9 million in dry Supernotes was stashed in the two oversized plastic toolboxes sitting at Brian Carter’s feet.
Hafner blasted through his agenda. “I’ve scheduled you for an emergency psych eval at Headquarters and I plan on asking for a polygraph as well.”
Jake pointed to Gracie again and motioned for Hafner to lower his voice. Then, in a whisper he asked, “Psych eval? What for?”
Hafner rolled his eyes. “I don’t like the way you respond to supervision. I think you have issues.”
Jake laughed out loud, causing Gracie to stir. “Oh, I’ve got issues, huge issues!” he whispered. “But you don’t think I can fake sanity? I’ll pass. I always do. And forget the poly.”
Hafner had no intention of backing down. “Why?”
Jake smiled and said, “If I don’t pass the polygraph, there goes my credibility. The U.S. Attorney won’t allow me to testify. If I don’t testify, we won’t get a conviction. And if we don’t get a conviction, you don’t get a promotion. You need an unblemished lamb for this sacrifice.”
Jake spotted Olivia Knox standing in the doorway and decided to play his trump card.
“Besides, if I fail, it might screw up the centrifuge and nuclear weapons deal.”
“What centrifuge and nuke weapons deal?” clamored Hafner.
Jake’s smile morphed into a serious expression. “Probably won’t be able to work it now, after you get the results of the psych eval and the polygraph.”
Knox decided to end Hafner’s torture. “Tell him the rest of the story, Jake.”
He complied. “The Supernotes were sent to Park to buy centrifuges and other high-tech components for the nuclear weapons work Pyongyang is now doing for the Iranians. The ayatollahs in Tehran have contracted with the DPRK to do the fissile material enrichment and R&D that’s banned by that new UN treaty.”
Wilson, the CIA ghost, finally spoke. “That fits with chatter we’ve been picking up overseas.”
“Am I cleared to know that?” Jake asked, still whispering.
A pregnant pause hung over the room as all parties looked toward Olivia Knox.
“Charles, I gave Jake until midnight tonight to wrap up the operation. Earlier today, we met and talked about what needed to be done. I personally approved his plan.”
“But why wasn’t I told about this?” said the ASAC, in a whispered whine.
Olivia continued. “Because when I called to tell you, Charles, you were on the phone with the State Department.”
“But I had to talk to State,” Hafner protested. “The Attorney General himself told me to make sure we didn’t do anything that would screw up the permanent nuclear weapons deal with Iran. What did you expect me to do?”
Knox held up her hand. “I expect the same thing from all my agents. I expect them to do what’s right.”
Hafner, chagrined in front of his subordinates, muttered, “I guess I should cancel my trip to D.C.”
“I think that’s wise,” said Knox.
Cradling Gracie in his arms, Jake walked past the police and fire lines and a growing crowd in front of the hotel. He proceeded virtually unnoticed to the undercover Range Rover. As he placed the somnolent child on the backseat and locked the seat belt around her, he said to himself, Katie used to tell me, “All things work together for good to those who love God and are called according to His purpose.”
As Jake pulled out onto Olympic Boulevard his cell phone slipped down between the seat and the console.
He never saw the text message from Trey Bennett.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
As Jake arrived at Park’s San Marino residence, the gate was open. He was greeted in the driveway by Park and his wife, Soo Min. Gracie awoke when Jake shut off the engine and he feared what the tiny ballerina remembered following the shooting. Her eyes had been closed and he assumed she was asleep in the hotel room but couldn’t know if she had heard any of the conversation once Trey and Brian secured the crime scene. He could only hope any story a four-year-old could tell would be dismissed as fantasy by those who heard it.
Grateful grandparents smothered Gracie in kisses. When Soo Min took her into the house, Jake detailed the contrived events at the hotel as Park listened intently.
When he had completed his after-action report, Park said, “Is there anything else you’d like to tell me?”
With genuine confusion, Jake asked, “Like what?”
“Like the fact you’re an FBI agent and your wife is pregnant?”
Jake froze; the chill of discovery and death enveloped him. He glimpsed the Green Hornet and Kato out of the corner of his eye. Both were standing in the well-lit driveway, their large-caliber, silenced semi-automatics in their hands. “I don’t understand,” said Jake, turning slowly to face Park.
“Tommy and some of his associates followed you to Gladstone’s restaurant and saw you meeting your wife. He shared it with me the night he was killed. He thought it was strange you never said you were married. I assume she is due any day now.”
Jake paused, then answered calmly, “I’m not married. The woman I met for lunch is the widow of my best friend. He was killed six months ago on an assignment in Afghanistan.”
“No more lies, Jake! After we take care of you, we’ll take care of your family. I must tie up all the loose ends. You didn’t think I’d send you to the hotel unaccompanied? My confidence in you did not exceed three million dollars—even if the bills were counterfeit. I had to retrieve the money for the equipment I had been told to acquire. And I really wanted to trust you, Jake. Apparently my faith was misplaced once again. You betrayed me as did the others. My people knew once they saw the FBI raid jackets at the hotel. It all began to make sense,” said Park.
There was a long pause. Jake said nothing, wondering if today was the expiration date God had set.
Before Jake could act, Park offered an abrupt hand signal to his minions. A shot shattered the momentary silence.
It wasn’t the muted sound of a subsonic round the undercover agent expected as he flung himself to the ground and grabbed the Glock concealed in the small of his back. Rolling into a prone position, Jake spied the Green Hornet already inert on the driveway and Trey Bennett, now firing at Kato as he moved.
Wheeling toward Trey, Kato leveled his weapon and prepared to fire. But before the North Korean could get Trey in his sights, Jake cranked off four rounds—two “double taps”—and dropped the thug.
Jake pivoted, spied Park attempting to escape around the side of the residence, and gave chase across the well-manicured lawn. He quickly closed on the aging North Korean intelligence officer and yelled at the top of his lungs, “Stop, or I’ll shoot!”
Surprisingly, Park stopped in his tracks, tossed his weapon on the ground, and threw his hands into the air. He had decided he wanted to live.
The gesture didn’t stop Jake. His momentum carried him into Park, knocking the older man to the ground. The FBI agent, breathing hard, placed his right knee on the North Korean’s neck, painfully establishing alpha-dog superiority, and pointed his Glock at the crime boss’s head.
“I brought back your granddaughter and you were going to kill me?” He cracked the barrel of the weapon across the back of Park’s head. “I ought to spread your brains across the grass.”
“Jake, don’t do it,” said Trey, racing up behind them.
“No, Trey, I’m going to close this case tonight with one nine-millimeter slug in the back of this commie bastard’s head.”
“Jake, we need him.”
Park moaned, “Please let me live.”
“Come on, Trey. This piece of garbage doesn’t deserve to live.”
“Please, don’t kill me. I can help you!” the Korean managed to croak.<
br />
“What can you do for us?” Jake asked, easing some of his weight off Park’s neck.
“I can help your country. I can tell you about the Iranians and the centrifuges and how they are making nuclear weapons.”
“Jake, he’s right. He can help,” said Trey.
Jake eased up on the trigger of his Glock and asked in a whisper, “Do you believe in God?”
“What?” said Park.
Jake cracked the crime boss across the back of the head one more time before he repeated the question.
Park wasn’t sure how to answer, so he told the truth. “No.”
“Too bad. The God you don’t believe in just saved your life. He determined your days but I guess tonight your number wasn’t up.”
Trey tossed his handcuffs to Jake, who double-locked the cuffs on Park while telling the Korean crime boss, “As usual, you and your Stalinist buddies have it wrong. The pregnant woman I had lunch with isn’t my wife. Katie died a year ago. The woman I met for lunch was her closest friend. Someone she loved, the wife of my best friend. Do you know the meaning of those words, love or friend, you miserable example of humanity?”
Park, clearly confounded by all that was happening and still fearful for his life, replied, “Yes.” Then, as Trey and Jake helped him to his feet, he said, “These are hurting my wrists.”
Jake looked at them in the dark and said, “They’re a little tight but they’ll stretch after you wear ’em awhile.” He then ratcheted each cuff close to the skin, bringing on additional pain with the slightest movement. “I hope they fit okay. Sizing is always so difficult for me to estimate, but I’d recommend you not wiggle too much. These things leave scars.”
As they walked Park back to the front of the house, Jake asked Trey, “How’d you know to come here?”
“After you left with the little girl, I watched you out the window of the hotel room. Hafner was strutting around on the phone, taking credit for the Supernote success once Brian showed him the contents of the toolboxes. I saw Park’s two goons come out of the little deli across the street. When they followed you toward your car, I figured you would need some help and sent you a text message.”
“I never saw it.”
“Well, I came anyway.”
“Thanks for having my back,” said Jake.
“I’ll always have your six. Isn’t that what you Marines call it?” Then, as they heard the sounds of sirens wailing in the distance, Trey added with a smile, “Maybe we should get everything prepped for Hafner’s press conference.”
“We didn’t leave many witnesses,” said Jake.
“Doesn’t matter, there’s not much left to prosecute. I think he’s on our side now,” said Trey, referring to Park.
“I guess that means Hafner gets that psych eval he was pushing,” said Jake with a grimace.
“I bet he does but my money’s on you. Somehow you’ll pass.”
Jake’s cell phone chirped. He fished it out of his back pocket. The text message read, “IT’S TIME!!!!”
“Trey, it’s Natasha, Joe’s wife! I have to get to the hospital. Their baby’s coming.”
“Go! I’ll clean up here.”
As he ran toward his car in the moonlight, he was grateful to be alive but still not sure why God allowed people like Park to exist. Jake had survived another series of near-death encounters and concluded he must have more to do before completing the days his Creator allotted. The birth of his best friend’s son was yet another reason to live.
“Thanks, God,” he whispered as he headed to the hospital.
EPILOGUE
No one was ever prosecuted for the espionage, murders, and other crimes committed during the course of what the CIA and FBI called “Operation Counterfeit Lies.”
The Department of Justice and the Director of National Intelligence declared all the activities and events that took place during the undercover operation to be part of a Foreign Intelligence Activity. The DNI classified all files, debriefs, and audiovisual surveillance recordings as Top Secret.
The undercover recording devices and associated memory chips worn by Gabe Chong and Jake Kruse during the operation were placed in an FBI evidence container and transferred to the Office of the Director of National Intelligence. They subsequently disappeared.
All U.S. government participants in Operation Counterfeit Lies were compelled to sign nondisclosure agreements pledging to never reveal what they knew of the operation or the DPRK-Iran nuclear weapons deal.
Park Soon Yong agreed to become an undercover asset of the CIA and the FBI. To maintain his cover, the $2.9 million in Supernotes was replaced with real currency and he continues to operate a global import-export business from Los Angeles. His case officer is named Wilson.
Olivia Knox was promoted and assigned to head the National Counterterrorism Center under the Director of National Intelligence.
Charles Hafner has been named Special Agent in Charge of the FBI office in Anchorage, Alaska.
H. Daniel Reid and three of his former clients were arrested in Hawaii and charged with “possession with the intent to distribute cocaine.”
Trey Bennett and Brian Carter are still assigned to the Los Angeles Field Office of the FBI.
The DPRK continues to refine fissile material and build nuclear warheads for Iran’s Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps.
Gabe Chong, “Cheech” to his Marine Corps buddies, will never be publicly recognized for his valor. Retired Marine Major General Peter Newman and FBI Special Agent James “Jake” Kruse were the only “outsiders” invited to the closed ceremony when Gabe’s sacrifice was honored by an anonymous star on the wall at CIA Headquarters in Langley, Virginia. The tiny device hidden in Gabe’s clothing recorded what happened to him. A portion of the classified citation for his National Intelligence Medal cites Gabe for “extraordinary bravery and devotion to duty. Despite brutal and prolonged torture that led to his death, National Clandestine Service officer Chong never revealed the identity of another U.S. Agent who likely would have been killed.”
Jake Kruse remains undercover and knows he is the other “U.S. Agent” mentioned in the classified citation. He also knows that had it not been for Gabe’s courage, his best friend’s son would never call him “Uncle Jake.”
FREEDOM ALLIANCE
HEROES SCHOLARSHIPS—For the Children of America’s Fallen Heroes
The Freedom Alliance Scholarship Fund honors American military personnel who have been killed or permanently disabled in service to our nation by providing educational scholarships for their dependent children.
Since 1990, Freedom Alliance has awarded millions of dollars in college scholarships to the sons and daughters of U.S. Soldiers, Sailors, Airmen, Guardsmen, and Marines. These grants further education and remind all that their parents’ sacrifice will never be forgotten by a grateful nation.
SUPPORT OUR TROOPS—Serving those who serve in America’s Armed Forces
The Freedom Alliance Support Our Troops program provides direct financial and other assistance to active-duty military personnel and their families. Priority is given to those recuperating from wounds and injuries and to their dependents.
Through relationships with military and veterans’ hospitals and rehabilitation facilities, Freedom Alliance provides emergency grants to families enduring financial hardship while members of our Armed Forces recover from wounds, injuries, or sickness suffered in the line of duty.
The Freedom Alliance “Gifts from Home” project ships thousands of care packages to service members deployed overseas throughout the year. Here on the home front, we provide gifts and sponsor activities for the spouses and children of deployed personnel.
Our Healing Heroes program offers “Hero Holiday” vacations for injured military members and their families and “Hero Hunts,” fishing retreats, and outdoor activities to aid in rehabilitation.
Freedom Alliance, founded in 1990 by Lt. Col. Oliver North, USMC (Ret.), and Lt. Gen. Edward Bronars, USMC (Ret.), is
a nonprofit 501(c)(3) charitable and educational organization dedicated to advancing America’s heritage of freedom by honoring and encouraging military service, defending the sovereignty of the United States, and promoting a strong national defense.
For more information, or to donate, contact:
FREEDOM ALLIANCE
22570 Markey Court, Suite 240
Dulles, Virginia 20166-6919
Phone: 800-475-6620
www.freedomalliance.org
www.facebook.com/FreedomAlliance
“LEST WE FORGET”
OLIVER NORTH is a combat-decorated U.S. Marine and recipient of the Silver Star, the Bronze Star for valor, and two Purple Hearts. From 1983 to 1986, he served as the U.S. government’s counterterrorism coordinator on the National Security Council staff. A #1 New York Times best-selling author of both fiction and nonfiction, he is also a syndicated columnist and host of the award-winning documentary series War Stories on Fox News. North lives with his wife, Betsy, in Virginia. They have four children and fourteen grandchildren. Visit him on Facebook and Twitter, or learn more at www.OliverNorth.com.
BOB HAMER spent four years on active duty in the Marine Corps and twenty-six years in the FBI. Many of those years in the Bureau were spent in various undercover assignments. He received the FBI Director’s Award for Distinguished Service and is now an award-winning author. He and his wife, Debbie, live in Southern California. They have two children and five grandchildren.
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