OUTCAST Ops: Red Ice

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Norman Kwan sat in the living room of his home, an open bottle of scotch on the side table next to him. He’d loosened his tie, taken off his shoes and cradled a half-filled glass of the liquor. The room was mostly in darkness, and at this time of night the house was quiet. His wife was in New York on business, adding to the silence, while his grown children were off on their own.

He’d never wanted to be a spy, but the state had decided he would become a Reconnaissance General Bureau agent, so a spy he became — starting at the age of ten. Trained by the 225th Bureau in espionage, and drilled relentlessly in state dogma, he had been smuggled to Taiwan when he was eighteen, given the name of Norman Kwan, and enrolled in the National Taipei University of Business. He graduated with a master’s degree in international business and then spent several years working in a North Korean front company. There, he helped funnel money and goods into his homeland before being tapped for a major mission — infiltrating the United States.

In this capacity, he spent fifteen years building up his import-export company. He became a U.S. citizen, married a lovely American woman, had three children, and became a leading voice of business in the city. By then, he knew that his leaders, had lied to him about everything. If he could have, he would have told the Kims to take their “worker’s paradise” and stick it up their asses. He enjoyed his life here, where food wasn’t rationed, where he could say and read anything he wanted, and where the government didn’t watch his every move and word.

Of course, it wasn’t as simple as that. He still had family in North Korea, brothers, sisters, parents, and several nephews and nieces, all one step away from being arrested and thrown into one of the prison camps the Kims and their toadies kept for those who disobeyed their whims. It didn’t matter if they were innocent; the state believed in family guilt, the actions of one tainting the entire family, and it would be three generations before any of the family saw the outside of the camps, assuming they survived long enough. Part of Kwan’s training took him to some of those camps and he had seen firsthand what happened to those who opposed the state.

So it was that when Pyongyang ordered him to run for an open seat on the Board of Supervisors for the City and County of San Francisco, he had no choice. He’d tried to run a lackluster race, but his opponent bungled his campaign so badly that Kwan still beat him handily. At the victory party, he’d received a message written in Korean congratulating him, with a picture of his brother as a reminder of the consequences of failure.

He won reelection several more times, and was elected President of the Board of Supervisors in the most recent election. He was now the second most powerful city official after the mayor. Pyongyang’s demands were constant and straightforward; the status of the military bases in the area, even the closed ones, federal anti-terrorist plans in the city, U.S. navy fleet movements through San Francisco, and any other information the People’s Republic thought could be important.

But it wasn’t just the spying. It was a stream of demands for various items that were taken for granted here but were extremely rare in North Korea. Hollywood film and porn DVDs, liquor, electronics such as MP3 players and large-screen TVs, and other luxuries were demanded of him. People in North Korea were starving and what were the Kims and the country’s elite doing? Living well, eating well, watching programs forbidden to most of his countrymen, and generally doing what they accused America and her allies of being — arrogant, self-centered, and petty.

Despite all the demands, Kwan felt comfortable enough in his dual roles as spy and politician. He gave his superiors what they demanded, most of which was public source or easy to buy. He didn’t know what plans they had for him, but for now he was content to follow orders.

He was so deep in thought that he didn’t detect Rhee’s presence until the major said in Korean, “You are a disgrace.”

Kwan’s head snapped up, fear and surprise quickly replaced by anger. “What are you doing here?” he hissed in English.

“I came for an update on the task I gave you.”

“You gave me twenty-four hours.”

“Things are moving faster than I expected. What have you found out?”

Kwan downed the rest of his glass’ contents and set it down next to the bottle. “I met with Casey briefly this afternoon. I asked him about reports there was a CIA hit team in the city and I demanded he tell me the truth.”

“Did he?”

Kwan snorted. “Of course not! He told me there was no CIA team in town, as they are forbidden to act inside the U.S.. He then said that he was here to brief the mayor and the Board of Supervisors, and nothing more.”

“I see.” Rhee’s expression was ice cold. “Did the police make any headway at the pier?”

“The feds took over — FBI, DEA, ATF. The SFPD is only assisting now. The investigation is being managed by D.C., and they are not releasing information yet.”

“I thought you were an important leader.”

Kwan shrugged. “Important city leader. My power base is here in San Francisco, with some pull at the state level, but zip at the federal level.”

Rhee tilted his head. “There is a U.S. senator retiring soon, is there not?”

Kwan nodded. “Two years.”

“Excellent. For right now, do you know where the mayor will be tomorrow?”

Kwan pointed to the dining room. “I have her itinerary on the table.”

Rhee strode to the dining room table and picked up a sheet of paper. He walked back into the living room, stood next to the lamp that was on and read the paper. When he was finished he looked up at Kwan. “Where will you be when the mayor visits the DEA office?”

“There’s a Board of Supervisors meeting at the same time. I will be there.”

“Good.”

“What’s so good about it?”

Rhee smiled coldly. “It is time you took on more responsibility, sachon.”

Kwan felt his stomach twist when Rhee called him cousin. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t need to know. I—”

Something in Rhee’s coat pocket buzzed. The major scowled and plucked a cell phone from the pocket. “Ne?” He listened for a few seconds, then said, “I want a full alert at the ranch! I will be out there shortly. Did the doctor and the shipment make it? Good. You have your orders — carry them out!”

He put the phone away, then stared at Kwan. “The Americans are becoming a problem. They attacked an important facility tonight.”

“Any of our people hurt?” Kwan asked, though the words felt bitter as he uttered them.

“Aniyo,” Rhee replied. “It was only Triad jang-gae, no one important. But the Americans missed destroying our plans by a few hours. They seem to know much.”

“They must have a spy inside the Triad.”

Rhee frowned, but nodded. “It is the only thing that makes sense. I must see to a few things. For now, do not deviate from you normal schedule. You are a vital part of the fight against American Imperialism. Now you will begin your rise to heights where you can help the state the most.”

Kwan felt his stomach twist again. “Of course, Major.”

Rhee left as silently as he had come. Kwan waited a few minutes, then searched the house, but Rhee was gone. He locked all of the doors and returned to the living room. He reached over and poured another glass of scotch.

“Goddamn jongpuk,” he muttered.