Target For Revenge

by Laura Scott

  “Because you failed to mention that the two you want dead are highly trained operatives. They have remarkable skills, and as such, they have injured several of my men. One of them is still lying in the hospital in a coma. I will be compensated for the loss of my men.”

  He hesitated, debating the best response. The idea that one of the Russians was in the hospital was unnerving. Why hadn’t he been silenced for good? Wasn’t that routine for the Russians?

  The last thing he wanted was to make this man angry, yet he couldn’t simply let the guy demand triple the fee either. At least not without some protest. “The job has not changed. Why should I compensate you for the incompetence of your men? How hard can it be to take care of two people, one of them a mere woman?”

  “Triple the fee,” the Russian repeated, “or take the risk of finding someone else to do your dirty work.”

  Unacceptable how the Russian had backed him into a corner. And here he’d thought this little problem had been taken care of. So much for no news being good news.

  “Fine, I’ll triple the fee, but you better get the job done. You’re running out of time.”

  “Wire the money to the designated account.” With that, the caller disconnected.

  He drew in a deep, ragged breath and crossed over to the laptop computer on the table. With trembling fingers, he sent the cash via wire transfer, then slammed the computer shut.

  The money wasn’t the biggest issue, there was plenty more where that had come from as he’d married well. But time was running out. He desperately needed Remington and Yin-lee eliminated from the equation.

  Very soon.

  * * *

  January 20 – 1:09 a.m. – Washington, DC

  Mack rubbed at his eyes, trying to fix his blurry vision. The hour of sleep he’d gotten wasn’t nearly enough.

  “Have you figured it out?” Sun had poured them both coffee made from the small pot in the room. They could use more, but the motel was stingy on conveniences such as free coffee.

  He turned toward her. “Yeah, I know the trajectory, but the problem is that the nuke isn’t a gun. They don’t have to hit a specific target within a few inches like a sniper does. Targeting the bomb in the general location of the west lawn of the Capitol will cause the same amount of damage.”

  “There has to be something we can do to narrow it down.” Sun looked beyond frustrated.

  “Within this radius,” he said, drawing a half circle with the tip of his finger. “If I were to take an educated guess? I’d say the Smithsonian or the National Gallery of Art.”

  “Not the Washington Monument?”

  He shook his head. “Too far away and you can’t take backpacks up there.”

  “You can’t take backpacks into the Smithsonian or the National Gallery of Art without being searched either,” Sun argued. “We need to remember that there is someone working this thing from inside the Capitol.”

  The words hit him hard. “Inside the Capitol.”

  Sun stared at him, realization dawning on her features. “No way.”

  He shivered and quickly pulled up the map of the Capitol building. “To use your words, why not? Who better to have access than someone who can go freely in and out of the place?”

  “But—the place is heavily guarded, and there are metal detectors that would prevent anyone from bringing in a penknife, much less a nuke,” Sun argued.

  “Maybe.” He knew she was right, but there had to be something they were missing. “Call Jordan, we need that security clearance ASAP. In the meantime, I’ll scour the blueprints. See if I can come up with something.”

  Sun pulled out her phone and rose to her feet. “Jordan? How quickly can you get us those security passes?”

  Mack listened to her side of the conversation with half an ear. The blueprints to the building were so large it took several minutes to load. He tried what he’d hoped was Yahontov’s phone number again, still no answer.

  Were they on the right track? Or should they be focusing their energy on the Smithsonian and the National Gallery of Art?

  Or something else completely?

  Making the wrong choice this late in the game would be deadly.

  Chapter Twenty

  January 20 – 1:17 a.m. – Washington, DC

  Hana tried not to shiver as the cold wind seeped into her bones. They’d walked briskly, but it had still taken longer than she’d anticipated to get here. She approached the bellhop standing outside the Hyatt with a gentle smile. “Good evening, I wonder if you would mind calling a taxi for us.”

  The bellhop frowned. “Are you a guest here, ma’am?”

  “Our daughter is, but we aren’t.” She tried not to display any hint of anxiety on her face, even though she had no idea where they’d end up staying, if anywhere, and didn’t like the idea of riding in taxis for what was left of the night. “We walked over to see the Lincoln Memorial. Even though it’s not open, we were drawn by the lights. So beautiful.”

  She wasn’t sure the bellhop was buying her story, but she doubted he’d refuse to offer any assistance, even though they normally only called taxis for guests. She was still in her disguise and hoped he’d take pity on her. He reluctantly nodded and lifted his cell phone. Within a few minutes, a taxi rolled up. The bellhop was about to reach for the door, but Jarek beat him to it.

  “Thank you, sir,” Hana said before sliding in.

  Jarek gave the bellhop a small tip before joining her.

  “Where to?” the cabbie asked.

  Hana leaned forward. “Do you have any idea where we may find a hotel room?”

  “On Inauguration Day?” The guy laughed. “Not anywhere close to the mall, that’s for sure. Maybe in the outskirts of the city.”

  Hana looked down at the DC tour map she’d found on their walk to the Hyatt. She really had no idea where to start. “Any specific area more likely to have a room than another?”

  The cabbie pulled away from the hotel and headed off in the only direction he could go considering the closed streets. “If it were me, I’d try someplace north of Capitol Hill. There are smaller hotels there that might have a room.” Despite the suggestion, his tone was not exactly encouraging. “Unless you want to try heading back over the river toward the Arlington area.”

  She glanced at Jarek who shrugged. “I say we stay within DC.”

  “North of Capitol Hill, then.” She lifted a hand to tuck her hair beneath her scarf. She’d worn it as a disguise but now appreciated the scant bit of warmth it provided. She stared out the window, hoping this wasn’t a wild-goose chase. The only good thing was that traffic was light at this hour of the morning.

  But that wouldn’t last long. She was fairly certain that the streets would be jam-packed with people and cars within a few hours.

  She’d already called the number of the answering service in an attempt to reach Sun, but as before, she hadn’t heard back.

  There had to be a way to find her daughter before another North Korean found them. And before noon.

  Hana bowed her head and sent up a silent prayer for God to continue watching over them.

  * * *

  January 20 – 1:24 a.m. – Washington, DC

  Sun would have given anything for another cup of coffee. An entire pot would have been better. Jordan was working on their security clearances for the Capitol, which she still saw as a long shot, and Mack was examining the blueprints.

  The Russians were a dead end, and that was disturbing.

  The more she thought about the plot to shoot off a nuke during the inauguration, the crazier it sounded. It was just impossible to imagine where such a device could be used in an area teeming with security.

  She plopped onto the edge of the bed and scrubbed her hands over her face. What if they were on the wrong track? What if the nuke wasn’t intended to be used during the inauguration ceremony where the new president was sworn into office but at some point during the parade route?

  Or maybe the inauguration wasn’t t
he target at all?

  It was all so maddening. Yet the danger as they’d worked this case was very real. Hard to imagine why someone would be so determined to kill her and Mack if there wasn’t a really good reason.

  She felt certain they were getting close to the truth.

  “Wait a minute.” Sun sprang to her feet. “What if the nuke is smaller than we originally thought?”

  Mack looked at her with bloodshot eyes. “What difference does that make?”

  “I don’t know, but let’s take the backpack theory. We know they’re not allowed in any of the buildings here in DC without being searched, but they can’t possibly keep every single pedestrian from carrying one.” Her thoughts whirled fast. “Or maybe the backpack is hidden someplace outside so that a pedestrian can find it and pick it up once they’re in the National Mall area.”

  Mack let out a sigh. “So we’re back to scrounging around the area searching for a bomb that may or may not be there?”

  He had a point. “We know someone is helping from within the Capitol, so rather than assume the bomb is inside the building, maybe it’s just been cleverly hidden somewhere close by.”

  Mack threw up his hands in frustration. “But where? That’s the key to this mess.”

  Her surge of excitement faded, and her shoulders drooped. “I don’t know. A garbage can?”

  Mack straightened in his seat. “That’s a thought. If they picked one that was off in a corner somewhere, maybe camouflaged in some way, the bomb could still be there, waiting for the trigger man to pick it up and use it.”

  “The trigger man would be putting his life on the line to do that. It’s not like he can show up wearing a gas mask.”

  “True, even if he was dressed as a member of the Capitol police, it would be too obvious,” Mack muttered, turning back to his screen. “Let me check out a few things. See if I can find the locations of the trash cans from the sanitation department.”

  Sun tried not to groan. More hacking? Appreciating Mack’s computer skills was one thing, but watching him work was pure torture. “I’m going to see if I can get additional packets of coffee from the front desk. We’ll never make it through this without more caffeine.”

  “Okay.” Mack barely noticed as she pulled on her thin jacket and pocketed a room key.

  The cold air made her shiver but also helped slap back the overwhelming wave of fatigue. She tucked her hands into her pockets, her fingertips brushing against her phone. With a wince, she realized it had been hours since she thought of contacting her mother. She tried to think back, when was the last time she’d called the number they used only in cases of emergency? Yesterday sometime? Everything was one big blur. Maybe she should have left a message.

  Pausing outside the lobby, she dialed the numbers her mother made her memorize all those years ago. A number that would be routed through an answering service. When a voice at the other end of the line informed her of two new messages, she nearly dropped her phone in shock. She listened to the most recent message first.

  “Sun? I hope you get this soon, you’re in terrible danger from the regime.” Hearing her mother’s tense voice speaking North Korean after all these years made her eyes fill with tears. “I’m here in Washington, DC, please call this disposable cell number as soon as possible.”

  Here? In Washington, DC? With trembling fingers, Sun dialed the number. After what seemed like forever, her mother’s voice answered, again speaking in North Korean. “I’m sorry, you must have the wrong number.”

  Sun recognized the code they’d used in the past. “Please forgive me,” she responded. Then after waiting a beat, she said, “Mom? Are you really here in DC?”

  “Sun, I’m so glad you’ve called. We must meet, where are you?” Her mother sounded even more tense in person than she had on her message.

  “I’m at a motel.” Sun gave her the name and address. “Are you close?”

  Her mother let out a choked laugh. “Believe it or not, we are only five minutes away.”

  Five minutes? For a moment, Sun wondered if this was some sort of trick, if the regime had gotten ahold of her mother’s phone and was right now holding a gun to her head. Although if that was the case, why had she used their code?

  “Sun, listen to me, the danger is real.” Her mother’s voice went on. “I will be there soon, but the North Korean tailing me is not far behind. They’ve managed to follow me all the way from Geneva.”

  Not good news, and a complication she didn’t need while trying to find the nuke. “Okay, listen, it’s going to be fine. I’ll be waiting for you in the lobby, okay?”

  “Yes, Sunflower. I will be there soon.”

  The old nickname made her smile, her throat clogged with emotion. It had been so long since she’d seen her mother.

  Why was her mom here now, in the middle of a potential nuclear disaster?

  Sun lifted her gaze up to the sky. Why, Lord? Why?

  * * *

  January 20 – 1:55 a.m. – Washington, DC

  Jarek felt a surge of anticipation intermixed with a hint of apprehension as their cabbie pulled up in front of the motel lobby. This was it. The moment he’d been waiting for.

  He was about to meet his daughter for the first time.

  What would Sun think of him? A fifty-seven-year-old English professor? He had nothing to offer a brilliant woman like Hana’s daughter.

  His daughter. After all, Hana claimed Sun had his ears.

  “Ready, Jarek?” Hana asked. Her gaze searched his. “I didn’t tell her about you yet. I thought maybe you’d want to get to know her a bit first.”

  Jarek wasn’t sure if that was a good plan or not, but he didn’t argue. He slid out of the taxi and offered Hana his hand to help her out. The taxi drove away and almost instantly the door to the lobby flung open, revealing a younger version of Hana.

  “Get your hands off her!” Sun yelled, rushing toward them.

  “No, Sun, please stop.” Hana stepped around him to prevent Sun from doing something rash. “This is my friend, Jarek Zeman. He’s a dear friend, Sun. Not part of the regime.”

  Sun came to an abrupt halt, looking embarrassed. “Sorry,” she muttered. Then frowned at her mother. “You didn’t mention a friend.”

  “I know, maybe I should have, but I was worried you’d be concerned. You must know, Sun, that I would not be standing here right now without Jarek’s help. I promise you we can trust him.”

  Sun seemed to gather herself and smiled. “Mr. Zeman, it’s nice to meet you, and I’m grateful for your assistance in bringing my mother here.”

  It took a second for him to find his tongue. “I was glad to help. You’re very beautiful, Sun, just like your mother.”

  Sun arched a brow and glanced at Hana, then back at him. “So you’ve known my mother for how long?”

  “Ah.” He floundered for an answer. He waved a hand. “Years.”

  Sun narrowed her gaze and moved closer, peering at his facial features illuminated by the motel sign light with an intensity that made him squirm. Then she raised a hand to touch her earlobe.

  “I should have known,” Sun whispered, taking a step back. “I’ve always wondered about my big earlobes.” He could feel his face flushing as he tried to come up with a plausible explanation as to why he was there. Why had they ever thought they could fool their Mensa daughter? “You’re my father.”

  * * *

  January 20 – 2:16 a.m. – Washington, DC

  What was taking Sun so long to get coffee?

  Mack rubbed his eyes, but his vision refused to clear. This is what happened when you didn’t get sleep and stared at a computer screen as long as he had.

  He needed a break. And now that Sun had put the idea of coffee in his head, he craved a cup.

  Pacing the tiny room, he thought about the various garbage locations he’d found. More than he’d thought possible.

  Four hours, maybe less before the entire area encompassing the National Mall would be packed with peop
le. The sooner they got out there to begin searching the better.

  And if they were on the wrong track?

  He didn’t even want to think about the dire consequences. Not just to the entire fate of their country, which was bad enough, but to him and Sun as well.

  They’d be in the nuclear blast zone.

  The motel room door opened, and he spun to see Sun walking in with two people behind her. He put his hand on his gun, then gaped in surprise when he saw a woman that could only be Sun’s mother, along with a distinguished-looking man standing behind her.

  “Mack, this is my mother, Hana Yin-lee, and this is my—er—father, Jarek Zeman.” Sun’s eyes were suspiciously damp, and his heart wrenched when he realized she’d found her father after twenty-nine years.

  And could very well lose him within the next several hours if they didn’t find and neutralize the bomb.

  “Nice to meet you both,” Mack said, offering his hand in greeting to Hana and Jarek. “I’m only sorry it’s under these circumstances.”

  “It’s a blessing to finally meet my father, but the danger is very real. I explained how you were attacked in Central Park by a North Korean who mentioned me and my mother,” Sun said.

  “And we’ve been running from the North Koreans for the past several hours ourselves,” Jarek added. “Now that we’ve found you, Sun, we need to disappear, permanently.”

  Disappear? Not hardly. Mack scowled and shot an accusing glare at Sun. “Didn’t you tell them?”

  “Not yet.”

  Mack raked his fingers through his hair. “We’re working a case for the NSA and the FBI,” he said bluntly. “We have reason to believe there’s a nuclear bomb that will go off during the inauguration ceremony in roughly ten hours.”

  “A nuclear bomb?” Jarek repeated, shaking his head. “That’s impossible.”

  “No, it’s not impossible,” Hana said softly. “It’s very real.”

  “You know about the nuke?” Mack swiveled to face her. “How?”