Counterfeit Lies

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Jake got in a five-mile run before heading to the Joint Terrorism Task Force “off-site” in the West San Fernando Valley. The traffic was bearable but any trip down the Ventura Freeway at this hour was cause for a sedative when the drive was complete.

Thanks to the traffic, he arrived a few minutes late. The JTTF, a single-story nondescript building, was hidden in one of the many industrial parks in the Valley. He made his way to the Sensitive Compartmented Information Facility, or SCIF. It was a large, secure conference room, specially designated for the discussion of classified information. The doors and walls were built to prevent acoustical intrusion, and precautions were taken for the limited number of visitors allowed access. To prevent eavesdropping or tracking, all electronic devices were left outside the room. No cell phones, laptops, iPads, electronic notebooks.

Meetings in the SCIF were usually limited to members of the FBI’s “secret squirrel division,” as the agents referred to those who worked counterintelligence matters. Most agents never darkened the door of the SCIF and Jake had no idea why a squad working cases involving Asian organized crime and now a lawyer who wanted to eliminate his pregnant girlfriend needed access to the secure facility.

Trey Bennett was removing his cell phone and placing it in a gymnasium-style wall locker as Jake approached.

“You sure know how to ruin a morning. What’s going on? Is our lawyer part of a terrorist sleeper cell?”

“I pinky-finger swore not to tell,” said Trey with a weak, crooked grin. “We can talk about it when we get inside.”

Jake gave him a look as if to say, “You’ve got to be kidding me!” Instead he whispered sotto voce, “So where is Tonto, your faithful Indian companion, this morning?”

He gave Jake a hard look and replied, “Carter’s not cleared for this,” and knocked on the door.

Jake, suffering somewhat from being over-caffeinated, refused to get serious. “Shouldn’t we knock three times, wait for a response, then recite the appropriate counter catchphrase?”

“You mean like ‘I’ve got the yoyo.’ And those on the other side of the door say, ‘I’ve got the string.’ ”

Jake flashed a huge smile. “Exactly. You know how much I love this cloak-and-dagger stuff.”

Before Trey could shout out the secret password of the day, the door opened and the two entered.

Jake surveyed those in attendance. Some faces were familiar, others new. The “heavies”—those seated at the large conference table — were wearing suits and ties. The attire alone spelled government bureaucrats, so he headed toward a back-bench seat along the far wall.

Olivia Knox, the Assistant Director in Charge (ADIC) of the Los Angeles Field Office, was seated at the head of the table, surrounded by her subordinates and supplicants.

Trey was right. This was big. Olivia Knox didn’t casually call meetings with street agents. Though she left most operational issues for her command structure to handle, she and Jake had been known to butt heads during her two-year reign in L.A.

Most FBI field offices were led by a Special Agent in Charge (SAC). Three offices — New York, Washington, D.C., and Los Angeles — were so large that an ADIC was the designated head, with multiple SACs one step below on the management flowchart.

Olivia Knox was respected throughout the Bureau and her name was prominently mentioned anytime there was an opening in the highest levels at Headquarters. Her opinion mattered to most but for Jake she was still just another bureaucrat.

“You going to Vegas with us?” whispered Jake as he passed her.

She glanced at the undercover agent’s boots, jeans, and open collar, glared into his grin for an instant, grimaced slightly, and said to the rest of the room, “Let’s get started. I have an important meeting I need to chair downtown.”

Jake’s competitive streak carried over from the ball fields of his youth to the FBI. Whether the opponent was a crazed serial killer or a bureaucrat, his ego required he keep the upper hand. The character trait kept him alive on the street but was far less appreciated by those in management. He gestured as if to say, “By all means.”

Knox began. “For those of you who don’t know him, this is Robert Bauer, the SAC for the Secret Service here in Los Angeles. I’ve also asked Rachel Chang, our supervisor of the Asian Organized Crime squad, to be here. I’m debating transferring this matter to the JTTF but may allow her to continue handling it. Rachel’s new to the division, fresh from Headquarters, but she worked in the Asian Unit back there, so she’s familiar with the issues in this investigation.”

Jake had yet to meet Rachel, but the undercover operation targeting Tommy Hwan and his extended criminal family was being worked by her squad. The original supervisor handling the matter was transferred back to Washington soon after the UC portion of the investigation began. Trey had been running it unencumbered until Rachel arrived. For two weeks, she had been unable to find or make the time to meet with Jake, which was fine with him.

Trey mentioned her to Jake in passing and though her stay in L.A. had only begun, Trey said she seemed okay.

For Jake the jury was still out on L.A.’s latest find from HQ. As far as he was concerned, street agents had to prove they didn’t have what it took to be in the FBI. Administrators had to prove they belonged… for Jake, Rachel Chang had yet to prove her worth.

Stuart Upchurch, the Special Agent in Charge of the Organized Crime Division, sat next to Charles Hafner, his Assistant Special Agent in Charge (ASAC). Upchurch, who was retiring at the end of the month, was respected by the street agents because he had a hands-off approach to managing cases. Hafner, on the other hand, was a piece of work. He was the proverbial empty suit who couldn’t find his backside with a GPS device. Hafner had a rabbi at Headquarters and the bullpen scuttlebutt had him stepping into Upchurch’s slot if a more meaningful position didn’t open up back east. He had spent an extended assignment on the Headquarters inspection staff and parlayed that into an ASAC position in L.A.

Assistant Special Agents in Charge were a different breed, especially in an office as large as L.A. In the smaller offices an ASAC served just below the division’s top gun, so the responsibilities were more visible and pronounced. In the larger offices they represented one more layer of bureaucracy and most were blue-flamers hoping to land an administrative position elsewhere after checking off another box. Hafner came from the Headquarters mold: good-looking, stiff collar, silk tie, perfect white teeth, risk-averse, and worse than useless.

“We want to keep this in our division and work it off Rachel’s desk,” said Hafner.

Knox nodded as if the ASAC’s input was all she needed to finalize her decision. Knox didn’t introduce a man with salt-and-pepper hair, in his late forties, who sat in the opposite far corner, a cup of coffee in hand, balancing his chair on two legs and resting against the wall.

Knox then introduced Jake as the UC who met with the attorney, Reid, yesterday. Jake wasn’t thrilled his undercover role was now exposed to outside agencies, but he also couldn’t mask the confusion on his face. He remained silent but was having trouble coming to grips with why a murder-for-hire case was plaguing the JTTF and Secret Service.

There was a knock on the door and the gate guard glanced down at the flat-screen display on his desk, rose, and opened the portal. In walked a young, wiry Asian male, late twenties and athletic. He looked like a Korean Bruce Lee.

Jake was stunned! The new entry was one of Henry Yeong’s henchmen from the meeting in the restaurant. The two locked eyes before a slight smile appeared on the face of the newest visitor to the SCIF. He sat next to the mysterious man in the back of the room. Jake suppressed his alarm and the urge to interrupt the proceedings but focused his attention on the late arrival.

Olivia Knox reviewed the facts of the case to date and Jake had no quarrel with her presentation. Since outsiders were present she offered borderline praise for Jake’s undercover work, then she came to the meat of the issue. “Yesterday, Daniel Reid handed Jake a twenty-five-thousand-dollar deposit for the hit, all in hundreds, every bill a Supernote.”

There was an audible gasp from several of the administrative minions.

Knox gave a primer to those in the meeting. “It’s no secret North Korea’s a criminal empire. Since the imposition of economic sanctions, drugs and counterfeit goods have played an integral part in the country’s survival. They are one of the world’s largest producers of opium, meth, and knockoff pharmaceuticals. We’ve seized tens of millions of dollars’ worth of counterfeit cigarettes and clothing manufactured in Pyongyang and its outlying towns and villages. Nothing occurs there without being approved by the government. All of its criminal activities are tightly controlled by Kim Jong Un’s regime loyalists just as it was under his father. We would be here all day if we had to rehash the incidents of North Korean diplomats linked to drugs, black-market arms shipments, human trafficking, and counterfeiting.”

Knox paused to catch her breath, but it made her next statement appear more dramatic. “One of the greatest threats to our economy and our national security is the Supernote. It’s been around for years but it took two multiagency undercover cases, headed up by the FBI, ‘Smoking Dragon’ on the West Coast and ‘Royal Charm’ on the East Coast, before any administration acknowledged North Korean government officials were printing the bills. Back in 2006, President Bush warned North Korea we were aware of their activities and reminded the leaders in Pyongyang that counterfeiting another nation’s currency is an act of war. Though the details are not relevant to this meeting, you should know it was because of these discreetly delivered warnings that North Korea returned to the nuclear weapons talks a few months later.

“The quality of the counterfeit one-hundred-dollar bill is so good, imperfections are almost undetectable. The bills are printed on a special intaglio press with optically variable ink. Even the paper has the long, parallel fibers used by our Bureau of Engraving and Printing.…”

Jake was impressed. Knox appeared to know a great deal about the Supernote.

She continued, “Those joint investigations slowed the flow of counterfeit bills into the U.S., but as the payment to Jake indicates, we didn’t stop it. North Korea’s the reason we modified the hundred-dollar bill last year. Certainly it’s our government’s hope the new bill will deter counterfeiting, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Pyongyang is busy engraving new plates so they can start counterfeiting our most recent hundreds. The first samples of North Korea’s work showed up in 1989. This is the third time we’ve redesigned the bill since then and in our two previous attempts North Korea kept up with our enhanced security. It’s just a matter of time before they are producing their latest version of the Supernote.”

“But even if the new-design bill is as tough to copy as Treasury hopes, the old U.S. currency is still in circulation — and so are the virtually indistinguishable North Korean Supernotes,” interjected Bauer, the Secret Service SAC.

Knox nodded. “As we saw yesterday, they are flowing through the global economy and will pass muster at any bank. When the new bills were issued last year there was an estimated nine hundred billion dollars — that’s billion with a b—of the old currency still in circulation. The old bills will gradually be phased out when they are too worn, but that will take years. From all our intelligence, Kim Jong Un is flooding the Asian and European markets with the old Supernotes trying to beat the phaseout.”

Robert Bauer added, “They are literally laundering the most recently produced Supernotes and aging the paper. The bills look as if they’ve been in circulation so as not to attract close scrutiny.”

Trey looked at Jake and nodded an affirmation.

Olivia Knox smiled, something few in the room had ever seen her do, and said, “It’s one thing for our Treasury to crank out more bills as part of an economic stimulus plan, but when a foreign government is manufacturing our money, it’s important that we stop it. Now it’s an imperative.”

Knox paused for effect and every eye turned toward her as she continued, “Everyone here knows North Korea has used Supernotes to finance terrorism and R&D on ICBMs and WMDs — nuclear, chemical, and biological. They’ve been getting away with it for years. We now have credible information from reliable sources that the regime in Pyongyang may have closed a barter deal involving Supernotes with another hostile power that poses a real and present danger — an existential threat, if you will — to the U.S. homeland.

“I am not at liberty to say more about this right now, but I can tell you that what started out as an organized-crime investigation may have grave national security implications — and I can tell you the potential damage goes well beyond weakening our dollar and strengthening an adversary’s global influence.

“I called this meeting because yesterday’s payoff to Jake appears to validate a new classified National Intelligence Assessment that the DPRK — the so-called Democratic People’s Republic of Korea, which we endearingly refer to as North Korea — is now engaged in a full-court press to accelerate conversion of Supernotes into goods and services of tangible value.

“The contents of the bag Reid passed to Jake represent one of the largest bulk uses of the Supernote we’ve seen in the United States since the arrests in August 2005. No matter how you slice it, the Supernotes are a serious assault on our monetary system and our national security.”

“So what made you decide to even check the quality of the currency Reid passed off yesterday?” asked Jake, leaning forward, fully engaged in the conversation, his attention diverted from Bruce Lee’s stunt double.

Bauer, the Secret Service SAC, took the question. “Park has been known to our office for a long time as a mover and shaker in the world of Korean organized crime. We’ve never been able to prove his involvement in the Supernote, but he’s been on our radar and we were aware of your operation.” Then, nodding toward Rachel Chang, he continued, “Yesterday, when Rachel told us of the payoff in U.S. hundreds, we asked to take a look. We knew Reid was Park’s attorney and suspected any currency he passed could have originated with Park and might be Supernotes. We guessed right.”

“You’re not saying you think Park’s financing his own daughter’s execution?” asked Jake.

“Not at all. We suspect Park and Reid have no intention of declaring their illegal gains to the IRS, so a lot of Park’s legal expenses are settled through cash payouts. In all likelihood, Park paid Reid for other services rendered and Reid used those same bills to pay you.”

Knox jumped back in, “With Russia and Ukraine, there are many national security issues, but Headquarters wants to expedite this investigation. We need to pursue the Supernote as far and as fast as we can.”

Then turning to Jake — and every head in the room turned with hers — she said, “Jake, how quickly can you come up with more on the Supernotes?”

The undercover agent paused a moment, then said, “Off the top of my head, I really don’t know. The twenty-five thousand was a down payment on a murder that is to take place next week. Then the lid comes off. We can’t hide a contract killing. We’ll need to go overt and make an arrest.”

“Then we have a week,” she replied without hesitation.

“Give or take a nuclear apocalypse,” said Jake.

“I’m open for suggestions as to how we proceed,” said Knox.

No one said a word. Jake turned toward the odd couple on the other side of the room to see if they were going to contribute. Since they didn’t appear to be on the cusp of responding, Jake took the lead. “How about this? I remain in my cover and I approach Park and tell him of Reid’s plans.”

“How will you get to Park?” asked Olivia Knox.

“I’ll convince Tommy Hwan to introduce me. He’s the guy who brought Reid to me, so now it makes sense for me to warn his boss and give Park a chance to buy out the contract.”

“Then what?” said Hafner, questioning the investigative strategy.

“Saving his daughter may not be enough to have Park bring me into his inner circle but it should give me some cred with him. Then we’ll see where that leads us.”

“I don’t know. The chances for success seem remote and time is of the essence,” said Hafner.

Jake threw up his hands, looked toward Bruce Lee and his silent partner, and said in all sincerity, “I’m open to a better idea.”

If the action-film look-alike or his partner were about to speak, Hafner’s next query cut them off at the pass. In a derisive tone the aspiring bureaucrat interjected, “What do you suggest we do with Reid? Park will have him killed if you tell him about the contract.”

“Do we care what happens to this scum-dwelling lawyer?” asked Jake.

“Yes, Jake, we do care,” said Knox without hesitation.

“Especially with a room full of witnesses,” whispered Trey Bennett.

“I’ll come up with a reason why I need Reid alive. I’ll convince Park to hide his daughter until we can spring a double reverse on the attorney.”

Knox, Upchurch, Hafner, and Bauer traded thoughts on Jake’s strategy before the ADIC proffered her reluctant approval.

As the meeting broke up and everyone began filing out of the SCIF, Jake approached the two strangers Knox conveniently forgot to introduce. He extended his hand. “Hi, I’m Jake. Thanks for your contribution to the discussion this morning. I suppose Henry Yeong could have introduced us the other day and saved the awkwardness of meeting this way.”

The younger of the two men smiled as the older man remained stoic.

The Bruce Lee of the two-man cabal said, “I’m Gabe.”

Jake put it together quickly. “Cheech.”

When the older man’s head snapped, Jake’s suspicions were confirmed. “Semper Fi.”

Gabe smiled as the older man muttered, “How do you know? What’s going on here?” The spook squinted across the room toward Olivia Knox as though he was about to protest. She was deep in quiet conversation with Bauer and Hafner and didn’t notice the accusatory stare.

Jake gave no quarter. “I’m a trained investigator. What’s the Agency’s involvement in all this?”

The older man said nothing.

“I hate all this need-to-know horse pucky. You got a name? I don’t like talking to ghosts; too many conspiratorial thoughts for my weak mind and overactive imagination.”

The older man said, “You can call me Wilson.”

“Is that a first name or last name?”

“Wilson will do.”

“You guys and your off-the-books, black-budget operations. Do you just sit around in SCIFs and make up this crap? Look, Wilson, I’d really like to play your silly little games but my ass may be hanging out on this one. I would like to think I’ve got most of the facts before I run off into some Pyongyang parallel universe.”

Neither man said anything, so Jake pressed on. “Look, we’re supposed to be on the same team. We all know, information is power. So I’d like some information. At least if I end up being fed to mad dogs in a North Korean dungeon like Kim Jong Un’s uncle, I’ll know it was for a good cause.” Still no response.

Olivia Knox, now aware of the growing confrontation, moved toward the three men. Hafner trailed her like a poorly trained retriever.

As she approached, Jake said, “You know, I’m not thrilled my UC role has been outed to the Secret Service and now the CIA. I’m also not interested in being cannon fodder for the next election cycle. Why not fill me in?”

Before Olivia could respond, Gabe stepped forward and took the initiative in defusing the controversy. “Jake, the Agency’s been looking into the Supernote for a long time. The bills have been showing up here for years. We assumed since Henry Yeong was a major player in Korean organized crime, both here and in Asia, he was likely involved in distribution of the counterfeit currency. Yeong’s tentacles reach well beyond Los Angeles and I have verified he is involved in converting the counterfeit currency overseas. I just can’t connect Yeong with bulk distribution of Supernotes here in the United States.

“With yesterday’s payoff, it would appear as though Park may have an exclusive deal with the North Koreans for distribution of Supernotes in this country. Since Yeong and Park are ostensibly competitors for illegal goods coming into the country, I don’t see any way I can get to Park.”

“The last time I scanned the rules and regs, the CIA wasn’t allowed to operate within the United States,” said Jake.

“Actually we can with the right approvals. I first met Yeong in Hong Kong, where I was hired to be part of his security team after two of his goons just happened to get popped for roughing up a prostitute. In the past month I’ve traveled with Yeong to China, Japan, Macao, Singapore, Kish Island, South Korea, and now here to the U.S. Like you, and all of us working undercover, I have to live my legend. As part of Yeong’s PSD, I couldn’t very well avoid this leg of his world tour. Since he isn’t a U.S. citizen the approval process was relatively simple,” said Gabe, nodding at Wilson, who simply grimaced and said nothing.

Knox interrupted. “Jake, the Director of National Intelligence and the Attorney General have signed off on the paperwork. The appropriate authorities are well aware of the Agency’s involvement in this. Yesterday, given the new urgency to find out about what’s happening with the Supernotes, Headquarters authorized me to call this meeting so all of us from every agency involved in this operation understand our respective roles.”

“So are you still in charge of this investigation?” Jake countered. “Or has the Attorney General made a power play to take over?”

Olivia glared at her recalcitrant UC agent and said, “I’m still in charge… at least for the time being.”

“And what’s the game plan — to out me and allow the spooks to continue to march?” Then with sarcasm Jake turned toward Gabe’s partner and asked, “Is your name really Wilson?”

Ignoring Jake’s question, Gabe continued. “Being part of Yeong’s security team doesn’t mean much. Some days he lets me drive. Other days I sit around the office and fetch coffee. I’ve yet to break into Yeong’s inner circle and am not sure I ever will. At this point you may have a better chance of penetrating both Yeong’s and Park’s operations.”

“How’d you get in? Is there another friendly inside Yeong’s organizational structure?”

Wilson finally spoke up. “Look, we’re getting way beyond ‘need-to-know’ here. Gabe was hired for Yeong’s personal security detail in Hong Kong because friends of ours arranged to have a couple of Yeong’s goons arrested. Yeong is an officer of the DPRK Ministry of State Security. He is a graduate of the Kumsong Political Military University in Pyongyang. From what we know, Park has a similar background. Gabe was hired by the Ministry of State Security to fill one of the unexpected vacancies in Yeong’s travel team.”

For a moment Jake said nothing, then turned to Gabe and said, “DPRK Ministry of State Security. So you’re a NOC,” the CIA term for an operative working under non-official cover. Most American intelligence officers work from U.S. diplomatic missions under official cover — with titles like “trade counsel” or “economic advisor”—complete with black passports and diplomatic immunity. NOCs have no such protection. As they say in the business, “You get caught spying with diplomatic immunity you get deported. NOCs who get caught spying get decapitated.”

Gabe smiled. “Yeah, I’m a NOC.”

“And your backstopping is secure?”

Wilson huffed, “This has gone far enough! Our backstops for Gabe are just fine. Your concern is noted. Need I remind you, we’re in the business of creating legends.”

“Thanks for that,” said Jake dryly. Turning back to Gabe, he continued, “We don’t need to know each other’s backstory, but it’s good for us both to know there is another ‘friendly’ downrange if someone starts throwing live ordnance.”

“Right,” Gabe replied with a smile. “There is something else that may be helpful,” he added. “Are you familiar with Office 39?”

“No,” answered Jake.

“Office 39 is a secret agency within the North Korean government — separate from the Ministry of State Security. It answers directly to Kim Jong Un and provides money for the Great Successor to run his mafia-like criminal enterprise. Office 39 is responsible for the production and distribution of the Supernotes, the manufacture and distribution of counterfeit cigarettes, clothing, and pharmaceuticals, as well as the distribution of heroin and crystal meth. Revenues from these activities fund terrorism and WMD research and development.

“In the DPRK, grass is a vegetable. It’s a country totally dependent on international aid to feed its people. Yet the government pours hundreds of millions of dollars into terror and weapons of mass destruction, which eventually become revenue generators themselves. But the ‘seed capital’ has to come from somewhere—”

“That ‘somewhere’ is the illegal contraband you’ve seen so far in this UC assignment,” interjected Knox.

“Sounds like a well-oiled criminal conspiracy,” said Jake.

Gabe nodded. “It is, and Yeong gets his share of the grease. As ADIC Knox just said, crime is an integral part of North Korea’s economy. By some estimates Office 39 brings in more than a billion dollars a year.”

“I guess that makes Yeong a worthy target,” said Jake.

“And Park,” said Gabe.

“Let me see what I can do,” said Jake, starting toward the door. “Nice to know you’ll have my six when I’m out there.”

Gabe slowly nodded, then to Wilson he said, “I think we owe him the rest.”

“The rest of what?” said Jake, stopping abruptly, anger seeping through the words.

Wilson nodded.

Gabe said, “I’ve had trouble penetrating beyond the gunsel role in Yeong’s organization. The only other inside person we had on this side of the Pacific was killed earlier this week in his home in Beverly Hills.”

“That sounds like Cho Hee Sun, known as ‘Sonny’ out here,” said Jake.

“How do you know?” shot Wilson in a tone that sounded to Jake as if he was being accused of Sonny’s untimely demise.

“I know I’m only an FBI agent and not some CIA superspy, but the Bureau has a new requirement. We now have to be able to read before the FBI will hire us. And guess what, Wilson, it was in the L.A. Times, and Sonny’s enemies and friends have been discussing his unfortunate end all over town since it happened.”

Gabe intervened. “We were told the murder looks like a contract job. Nothing was taken. He was shot through the door. Apparently, no one even broke into his house — before or after he was killed. Does that square with what you know?”

“Yep. So far that’s what I’ve heard. But what was Sonny’s role in all this?” asked Jake.

“His brother in Hong Kong used family connections in Pyongyang to get me hired on with Henry Yeong’s security detail.”

“Sonny’s brother in Hong Kong works for us?” asked Jake.

At this, Olivia Knox motioned for Robert Bauer, the Secret Service SAC, to join them. As Bauer approached she said, “Bob, tell Jake about his recently deceased friend, Sonny.”

Bauer shrugged and said, “Cho Hee Sun worked for us. He was a U.S. Secret Service informant. We actually recruited the brother in Hong Kong first. Thanks to information the brother provided from Hong Kong and North Korea, we jammed Sonny up on counterfeit securities he was pushing here in the States.”

Jake threw up his hands in frustration and turned to Olivia Knox. “When were you going to clue me in on all this? Had Reid not paid me off in Supernotes, I can only assume I’d still be out in the cold, running around with informants getting whacked, spies inside the organization, and me and my ass hanging out like some donkey waiting for anyone to pin on the tail. This is like a sing-along with no words. You guys are truly amazing.”

No one spoke.

Jake looked at Trey. “Did you know about any of this?”

Trey shook his head and the undercover agent believed him.

Jake took a long breath, shook his head, looked at Gabe, and said calmly, “So you’re one degree from removal.”

“It looks that way.”

“One last question — Marine-to-Marine. You mentioned that you accompanied Yeong to Kish Island. What was he doing there?”

“I don’t know exactly,” answered Gabe. “It was a big hush-hush, three-day powwow with about fifty big shots from Pyongyang and twice as many Iranians. Not all of them were towel-heads. Some were IRGC.”

“Was Park there?” Jake asked.

“If he was, I didn’t see him. We’ve identified about half of those I could get images of using the AV recording device I was wearing. Seems like at Kish on both sides a lot of them were nuclear scientists, missile engineers, and—”

“That’s enough!” Wilson interrupted. “This conversation is superfluous to the purpose of this meeting and I insist we wrap it up. Now!”

Olivia Knox nodded, looked at her watch, and said, “That’s right. Recess is over, boys. Time to get back to work.”

As the gaggle moved toward the door, Jake edged up to Gabe and whispered, “Watch yourself. Somebody is playing for keeps and the stakes in this card game are pretty high.”

Gabe nodded. He didn’t know it, but he’d been dealt a bad hand.