CHAPTER SEVENTY

Wednesday, 7:35 A.M., the DMZ

"Major Lee," Donald said quietly. "Somehow, I'm not surprised."

"I am." Lee pushed the knife harder into the flesh under Donald's chin. "I thought I would be about my business by now. Instead, I'm here with you."

"And your business is to kill innocent people and start a war."

"There's no such thing as an innocent person—"

"You're wrong. My wife was innocent."

Donald raised his hand slowly. Lee pressed the knife deeper but Donald continued to lift his arm.

"Your wife and you, Mr. Ambassador, made life easier for those who abandoned their country. You are as corrupt as the rest, and it's time for you to join—"

Donald moved so swiftly that Lee hadn't time to react. The bowl of the pipe in his left hand, Donald swung the stem around, hooked the knife from above, and pushed it to the left. The bowl was facing Lee and, thrusting it forward, Donald pressed the hot tobacco against his right eye. Lee screamed and dropped the knife, which Donald hurried to recover.

"No!" Lee yelled as he turned and ran into the deep blue of the morning.

Donald ran after him, still holding the knife.

Lee was headed into the area where the North Koreans had been known to have tunnels. He wondered if the Major were leading him away from the South-side base intentionally. Was that where he was planning to use the gas?

Not likely, he thought. Lee was dressed in his own ROK uniform. He was going to the North, almost certainly to release the gas in some way: if he was spotted, the South would be blamed. Donald briefly considered stopping to alert Schneider, but what would the General do? He wouldn't follow him into the North.

No. Donald knew that he was the only one who could go. His breath came in painful wheezes as he half ran, half stumbled after the shrinking figure of the Major. Lee was putting more and more distance between them, at least two hundred yards, but he was running east. As night gave way to the blue morning, Donald might lose ground on Lee but at least he could still see where his quarry was headed.

And then Lee disappeared.

Donald slowed to catch his breath. It was as though the earth had swallowed Lee up, and Donald realized that he must have dropped into one of the tunnels. He noted the area, a thicket some twenty yards across, and walked swiftly toward it, counting the steps to take his mind off of how much his lungs and legs hurt.

Just a few minutes after Lee vanished, Donald was at the entrance to the tunnel. He didn't wait, figuring that if Lee had had a weapon he'd have used it back in the field. Folding the knife into a pocket and dropping to his knees, Donald grabbed the hemp line and lowered himself along the passage, bumping his back repeatedly as he tried to walk himself down. He reached bottom, nearly exhausted, and listened. There were shuffling and clawing sounds somewhere up ahead. He struck a match, saw the tunnel, and knew where Lee had gone.

If something happened to him, he wanted Schneider to know where he'd gone. Turning and setting the hemp line on fire, he dropped to his belly as thick smoke filled the passageway. He crawled into the tunnel, hoping that the General would see the smoke and flames. He also hoped that he himself could reach the other side before he choked to death… and getting there, that he could find Lee before he was able to realize his insane vision.

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