Op-Center

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Traveling at an average speed of 120 miles an hour, the sleek, modern Lake LA-4-200 Buccaneer four-seater flew low over the sea as it headed toward the coast of North Korea, its top-mounted Lycoming 0-360-A1A engine humming as the pilot kept the plane steady. The air was turbulent this close to the surface— just under one thousand feet and descending quickly— and the pilot didn't want to have to ditch her. Not with these two onboard. He dragged a handkerchief across his sweaty forehead, not daring to contemplate what they might do if he had to land fifty miles from shore.

The twenty-five-foot-long plane bucked as he dropped below five hundred feet— faster than he should have, given the down draft, but not as fast as he would have liked. The dark outline of the shore was visible now, and the pilot knew he wasn't going to have time to make a second pass: his passengers needed to be ashore by eight-thirty, and he wasn't going to disappoint them. Not by so much as a second.

He also wasn't going to let his dear friend Han Song get him any more off-the-book flights. Sons wanting to sneak in and visit fathers or even spies from the South were one thing. The gambler had said that these two were businessmen, but he didn't say their business was murder.

He set the boat-shaped belly of the aircraft down with a gentle thud, water kicking up on both sides as he braked quickly; he wanted to get the men off and the plane turned around before any curious fishermen or constables decided to check him out.

He unlatched the hatch and flipped it open. The entire cockpit was exposed. Snatching the raft from the copilot's seat, he lowered it over the side while the men in the back seats stood. The pilot extended his hand to help the first man into the raft. The killer grabbed the pilot's wrist and looked at his phosphorescent aviator's watch.

"We— we made it!" the pilot said.

"You've done well," the killer replied as his companion edged around him and climbed into the raft. He reached into the pocket of his greatcoat and handed the pilot a bundle of money. "As your agent and I agreed."

"Yes, thank you."

Then he reached into his pocket and withdrew the bloody stiletto, held it in front of him. The pilot's heart drummed so hard he was sure it and not the engine was causing the plane to shake. The killer laughed, cocked his arm suddenly to the side, and threw the blade out to sea; the pilot deflated so quickly he lost his balance and fell against the seat.

"Good night to you," said the killer as he turned and joined his friend in the raft.

It was several minutes before the pilot felt calm enough to taxi back to sea. By that time his passengers had been swallowed by the darkness.

The men were guided to shore by the flashing light of a soldier on the beach. The tide was low and they arrived in minutes, one of them deflating the raft while the other took the suitcases and walked toward two jeeps parked in the shadows beneath a sea cliff.

"Colonel Oko?" said the new arrival.

"Colonel Sun," the other bowed. "You're early."

"Our pilot was anxious to be rid of us." Sun glanced at the armed soldier standing beside the jeeps. "You have the uniforms, documents, and— package?"

"They're in the jeep. Would you care to check?"

Sun smiled and set the cases in the sand. "Major Lee trusts you." The smile broadened. "And we have a common goal, after all. To remain enemies."

"I need no war for that."

"You are not a politician, Colonel. We do not need to be reminded of what is in our blood. Would you care to check the money?"

Oko shook his head and motioned for his aide to take the case. "To be frank, Colonel, even if we were not recompensed for the bribes we've paid, the cost would have been worth it."

Bowing again to Colonel Sun, Oko climbed into the jeep, and did not look back as they drove up the steep dirt road into the hills.

Colonel Sun's aide, Corporal Kong Sang Chul, approached as he watched them go. "And they say the North and South can never agree on anything."

Ten minutes later, dressed in the uniforms of a North Korean Colonel and his orderly, and having checked the package to make sure everything was there, the South Koreans followed the same road, headed toward a spot marked in red on the map among the folder of documents.