Retribution - A Special Agent Dylan Kane Thriller Book #7

by J. Robert Kennedy

  “Sounds like a fun childhood.”

  Penn shrugged. “If you know no different, it is. You serve the state, and you end up eating a lot better than your friends. If you truly do well, your family gets treated better too.”

  Niner turned in his seat. “What a wonderful country you work for.”

  Penn stared at him. “You’re Korean?”

  “American born and bred. My folks were Korean. South Korean. Now they’re American citizens.”

  “When the war comes, and Korea is united under the flag of the Democratic People’s Republic, whose side will you be on?”

  “Whatever side America is on.” Niner smiled. “And don’t think for a moment your side would win.”

  “We would because we are more committed than the south is, or its allies. Do you really think America will shed the blood of its young men and women for brown skinned people?”

  Dawson grunted. “You don’t know us too well if you have any doubt about that. We fought you once, we’ll fight you again.”

  “No, you fought the spread of communism once, not the spread of what you ignorantly call North Korea. This time we would be reuniting the peninsula. Your domino theory wouldn’t apply anymore. Do you really think you could get the American people riled up enough to spend hundreds of billions, sacrifice tens of thousands of lives, all to stop a war on a peninsula thousands of miles away? I think you’re being naïve.”

  Dawson shrugged. “I’d go in a heartbeat.”

  “Me too,” agreed Atlas, the others echoing the sentiment.

  “Oh, I have little doubt the average American soldier will want to fight, but the public won’t.”

  “Again, you’re sadly mistaken, and if that’s the message you’re bringing back to your Dear Leader, that America doesn’t have the will to fight, you’re putting your nation at great risk. If your country decides to attack, it will be decimated, your Dear Leader and his family will be dead, your military crushed, and your people freed. You’ve lived among us for years. Surely you must realize that your people would be better off free.”

  Penn laughed. “You’re not free. That’s just an illusion. Police can stop you at any time, you don’t have freedom to cross the border without proper documentation, your press is a joke, your politicians can’t get anything done, and freedom of speech died with the advent of the Social Justice Warrior. Your country is a lot more like mine than you may think. The difference is we understand the realities of today, and are willing to sacrifice to achieve our goals.”

  “And just what are your goals? Complete domination over the world?”

  “No. We want to reunify the Korean people, then be left alone.”

  Niner chuckled. “Yeah, right. Your God, miraculously born without an asshole, won’t be happy until everyone has ridiculous haircuts and a photo of him over every headboard.”

  “It’s easy to insult what you don’t understand.”

  Dawson nodded. “True, but understanding requires access to the facts, which your country doesn’t permit. Why did the Soviet Union collapse? Part of that was the growing access to Western culture. When people started to realize we weren’t the evil bastards depicted by their propaganda machine, and when they started to realize that living a meager life, lining up for food each day, wasn’t the way things were supposed to be, they demanded change. Do you really think if your people had any idea what life was like outside North Korea, that they’d want to keep things that way?” Dawson leaned closer. “You’ve lived here, you’ve seen what it’s like. Hell, you even have a wife and kid here. Can you honestly tell me you’d rather have your wife and kid join you in North Korea, to live out their lives there, starving and ignorant, than to live here, in America, where things aren’t necessarily perfect, but are a hell of a lot better than 99% of the world?”

  Penn’s face clouded over at the mention of his family. “It would be home,” he murmured.

  Dawson shook his head. “You keep up that talk, and Pyongyang might just believe you. But I think you’re all talk. You don’t sell state secrets for millions of dollars if you’re loyal to the Dear Leader. You do that because you’re setting yourself up for the good life in the good ol’ US of A.”

  Niner held up his laptop, showing a zero dollar balance on Penn’s Bitcoin account. “Looks like your nest egg is all gone, though, so if you have plans to return to America, you’re going to have to start all over.”

  Penn frowned. “You didn’t take my money, you took my son’s.”

  Dawson stared at him. “Excuse me?”

  “Why do you think I did it? I didn’t do it for me, I did it for them. For my wife and kid. I knew they’d be calling me back at some point, and you don’t say no to them. When they order you back, you go. No questions asked. That money was so that if anything happened to me, they’d be taken care of.”

  Atlas grunted. “Touching. A spy with a heart of gold.”

  Penn glared at him. “How is what I do any different from what you do? Yes, I’m a spy. I’m a spy for your enemy. And guess what? You have spies in my country too, doing their job. Don’t for a minute mix up spies with traitors. Traitors should be shot. Traitors betray their country. Spies don’t. Spies serve their country. I love my country just as you love yours.”

  Dawson nodded. “That’s true, yes. But you’re forgetting one thing.”

  Penn stared at him. “What?”

  “You’ve betrayed your country. You spent hours spilling every secret you knew before you got on this plane. What will Pyongyang think about that?”

  Penn paled slightly. “They’ll never know.”

  “You managed to steal the ToolKit from NSA headquarters. Do you really think your people won’t pick up chatter about your interrogation?”

  He paled a little more, leaning toward Dawson. “Listen, I don’t care what happens to me, but you have to protect Grace and my son.”

  Dawson sniffed. “Sorry, but you expect me to believe your wife isn’t a North Korean agent as well?”

  “Have you looked at her? When’s the last time you’ve seen a five-foot-eight black woman in downtown Pyongyang?”

  Dawson chuckled. The man had a point. “So you’re telling me she doesn’t know?”

  “She hasn’t a clue. The poor woman has probably been calling my phone non-stop, wondering what’s happened to me. There’s no way she hasn’t heard about the attack on the house.”

  “Ask the Dear Leader for a phone call when you get back.”

  Penn stared at him. “Are you really that heartless?”

  “Buddy, I don’t know what to believe, but I can assure you your wife is already being checked out by the FBI and every other acronym you can think of. If she’s involved in any way, she’ll be heading to prison, and your child will be taken care of by the system.”

  “His grandparents. Make sure he goes to his grandparents. They live just outside New Orleans.”

  Dawson paused for a moment. The man seemed genuinely concerned for his child. He wasn’t sure why that was surprising. Perhaps his prejudices against the North Korean regime were transferring to this man who was a spy on their behalf. But the North Koreans were people too. They married, they had children. They loved and hurt, just like everyone else. They worried about their children, about their future, and the policies of their leaders shouldn’t be held against people struggling to be good parents.

  Penn was a victim of his own government, though that didn’t excuse his selling the ToolKit for profit. But at the same time, it didn’t negate the fact he was a father, and that an innocent child’s future was at stake here.

  Dawson sighed. “Look, if your wife is innocent, she’ll be set free, and your kid will be fine.”

  Penn shook his head. “That’s not enough. If they decide to punish me, they could do it through my family. Grace and my son need to be put into Witness Protection. That’s the only way they’ll survive. If I ever hope to come back, I need to know they’re safe. If they’re not, they’ll kill them the
moment I leave.”

  Niner frowned. “You’re going to try and come back?”

  “Wouldn’t you if you had a wife and kid out there?”

  Niner shrugged. “I suppose so. But the question is, how are you coming back? Are you escaping, or are you coming back on the job?”

  Penn smiled slightly. “Whichever is necessary.”

  Dawson chuckled. “Well, at least you’re honest about one thing.”

  Atlas shook his head. “Yeah. One thing. All this bullshit you’ve been feeding us about how North Korea is better than America, and will conquer South Korea, is just that. Bullshit. You’re already talking about escaping and coming back to this horrible country. If you truly loved your country so much, you’d just have your government kidnap your wife and kid. God knows they’ve done it before.”

  Penn turned away, staring out the window, the stars in full force. “I couldn’t do that to them,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “My wife wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

  Dawson pursed his lips, staring at the man. “You said in your debrief that the marriage wasn’t sanctioned.”

  Penn shook his head. “No. I was almost terminated when they found out, but because of the cock-up on the Hummel investigation, I was on the outs at the NSA regardless. The only thing that kept me alive was that I had delivered them the ToolKit, which was enough to save me.”

  “So it’s love?”

  Penn stared at Dawson. “Yes. Have you ever loved someone so hard that you can’t imagine life without them?”

  Dawson thought of his fiancée, Maggie. “Yes.”

  “Then imagine living your life, knowing that any day you could be taken away from her, just because you were part of something bigger, something you were born into.” His voice cracked. “That’s been my existence every single day since I met her. And today is that day.”

  “You sound like you’re having doubts.”

  Penn sighed. “I don’t know anymore.”

  Dawson stared at the man. That was perhaps the first truly honest thing he had said so far. Penn was having doubts. These were the kind of doubts that could be used to turn a spy to become a double-agent, or simply a traitor to his own country.

  Unfortunately for Penn, he was worth more to them as a pawn in this situation, the life of Tanya Davis more important than what few secrets he may still have to spill.

  Penn stared at him. “Listen, I know you’re going to try and get me back. I understand that, and you know what? I can’t promise which way I’ll run when given the chance. I just don’t know. But whatever choice I make, I need my wife to know that I love her, and that I love my son. I need them to know that if I end up running back to where I came from, it’s because at that moment, I felt it was the best thing for them.” A tear rolled down his cheek. “I just don’t know what to do. I don’t know what will protect them.”

  Dawson felt for the man. For the man. He hadn’t understood true love until Maggie had entered his life, and couldn’t imagine making the choice now facing Penn. Stay with the woman you loved, and the child she had given you, risking their lives in the process, or leaving them, possibly forever, to save them.

  It was a choice he was certain he’d never face, his country free enough for him to be able to say no, should the choice be demanded of him.

  Though what would happen should some foreign power target his family, and the only way to save them was to renounce them?

  It had happened before with the Rosicrucians, but rather than capitulate, he and the others had taken the fight to them, and won.

  It was why their identities were so secret.

  Dawson regarded the man as Penn wiped the tears from his face. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll let you record a message to your wife and kid, and I’ll give it to the powers that be. They’ll analyze it six ways from Sunday, and if they find nothing, no hidden messages, they’ll probably pass it on to her.” He held up a finger. “But, if they find anything, and I mean anything, your wife will be sent to prison for the rest of her life, and I guarantee you, you’ll never hear from your child again. Understood?”

  Penn’s eyes brightened, and a hopeful smile spread, his entire demeanor changing, exactly as it should have for any honest man given this opportunity. The reaction reaffirmed Dawson’s decision in his own mind, now almost certain he hadn’t just been snowed by an expert manipulator.

  “You’d do that for me?”

  Dawson shook his head. “I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for them.”

  51

  Operations Center 2, CIA Headquarters

  Langley, Virginia

  “I’ve got him!”

  Leroux turned in his chair to see a triumphant Randy Child performing his customary victory spin. “Got who?”

  “His name is Colonel Park Ji-Sung. He’s a cultural attaché at the North Korean Embassy in Moscow.”

  Leroux pointed at the large displays, and Child brought up the file, the details sparse. “This is the guy Penn identified before he left for the exchange?”

  “Yes. The only one he recognized. He didn’t know the man’s name. He just said he recognized him from when he was being trained at Bureau 121.”

  Leroux frowned. “Doesn’t look like we know much about him.”

  Child shook his head. “No. Just when he arrived in Moscow, and the fact he’s still there. With your permission, I can try to hack the Russian’s and grab their file on him. It’s probably more extensive.”

  Leroux held a finger up over his shoulder. “Just hold off on that. Tensions are high enough already without us hacking their systems and getting caught.”

  “They’ll never catch me!”

  It sounded like a maniacal comic book villain, though Child was probably right. He was good at his job. Very good.

  “Well, if he’s a colonel, and in Moscow as part of Bureau 121’s operations there, then he’s either in charge, or pretty close to the top. It’s a good starting point for Kane. Get that info to him ASAP. I’m going to talk to the Director and see what he says about probing a little deeper.”

  52

  Palo Alto Airport

  Palo Alto, California

  Temple tapped his watch. “You’re cutting it a little close, aren’t you?”

  Dawson stepped toward the man still operating under the false assumption that his name was Simmons, and that Simmons worked for him. “That’s the idea. They knew exactly how long it would take us to fly here. They don’t want to give us any time to set up.”

  Temple’s eyes narrowed. “Set up? What do you mean, set up? What needs to be set up?”

  “We need sniper coverage in case something goes wrong.” Dawson gestured toward two SUVs parked nearby. “Are those ours?”

  Temple nodded, then pulled his phone from his pocket, the display lit up. His eyes widened. “It’s them!”

  Dawson cursed, motioning toward the Mercedes parked nearby. “Let’s take it inside.” He led the shaking man to his car as he scanned the airport for anything out of the ordinary, knowing he’d come up empty. The North Koreans had obviously followed Temple here, and had been waiting for the plane to arrive.

  Dawson closed the door and turned to Temple. “Put it on speaker.”

  Temple did then took the call. “Hello?”

  “We see your team has arrived. If any of them leave the airport, she dies. Take him to the address we just sent you. Alone.”

  The call ended and the phone vibrated. Temple held it up, and Dawson entered the address in his phone.

  “What are we going to do?”

  “You’re going to follow their instructions, as will we.”

  “But they might kill us both.”

  Dawson stared at the terrified man. “Yes, that’s a distinct possibility. Do you want to change your mind?”

  Temple pulled in a deep breath, shaking his head. “No. I have to save Tanya.”

  “Good.” Dawson checked his watch. “You better hurry.” He stepped out of the car and motio
ned toward his men. “Put Penn in the back seat. Cuffed behind his back.”

  Sergeant Eugene “Jagger” Thomas led Penn toward the car. “We’re not going?”

  “Nope. They’ve got eyes on the airport.”

  Jagger pushed Penn into the back. “Clever, those North Koreans.”

  Dawson leaned into the back, staring at Penn. “If I find out you caused any problems, I’ll make sure you never see your wife and kid again. Understood?”

  Penn nodded. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll play my part.”

  53

  Director Morrison’s Office, CIA Headquarters

  Langley, Virginia

  “Russia was hit just as hard as us. That’s the problem with these types of untargeted attacks. Sometimes your friends get stung as well.”

  Leroux nodded at his boss’ observation. Morrison was right. Targeted hacks could be as focused as a single machine, but these blanket attacks, where millions of emails were sent out in the hopes of infecting as many machines as possible, were uncontrollable. It was why even the hackers sometimes built in shutdown protocols, like in the May 2017 attack where the ransomware software would check for the existence of a particular website, and if it was there, shut it down. Another hacker discovered the shutdown code, registered the domain himself, and saved untold numbers of computers from becoming infected.

  This time, if there was a shutdown routine, no one had discovered it yet. The ransomware attack was mostly over, but the cost to the economies of the world was in the millions, if not billions, either through paid ransoms, or through lost productivity as machines awaited reformatting and reinstallation.

  It was why Leroux had some sympathy for Temple’s initial position. If a hack could be linked to a death, then it should be treated as murder. If a hack cost millions of dollars to fix, then those responsible should be treated as if they had robbed a bank of that sum and be sent to prison as any thief would. Temple was right in one thing. Digital crimes weren’t treated the same as physical crimes, and that had to change. Steal something digitally, treat it the same as physically stealing the equivalent value. Destroy someone’s computer by encrypting their data, or worse, wiping it? Treat it as if you had broken into that person’s home and smashed their hard drive with a hammer.