Point of Contact

63

Deputy Ri stood in his cramped basement office, talking into the speakerphone on his desk. “Why hasn’t it happened yet?” His expressionless face was beaded in sweat.

“The man I recruited failed,” Zvezdev said over the phone. “I’ve taken matters into my own hands.”

“There’s no point in threatening you. You know what’s at stake for both of us.”

“There’s still time.”

Ri checked his watch. “Ten minutes.”

“An eternity. We only need thirty seconds.”

“Call me when it’s done.” Ri pushed a button with a trembling finger. Zvezdev was his last hope. The missions in Lisbon and Toronto had already failed.

Ri lit a Gitanes to calm his nerves. The chairman had sent him a carton yesterday. Choi Ha-guk was a reasonable man, unlike his crazed cousin, who murdered failed subordinates and their entire families with ravenous dogs, flamethrowers, or antiaircraft weapons. The chairman was a professional man. He understood that operations sometimes failed, no matter how well prepared and executed they were.

Ri rolled the burning Gitanes between his fingers, watching the twisting tendrils of smoke in the lamplight. He smiled.

Yes, Choi Ha-guk was reasonable.

If he failed, Ri would only face a simple firing squad.

He crushed the cigarette out in his ashtray and picked up the phone. The operator connected him with the RGB station chief at the DPRK embassy in Sofia, Bulgaria. The man heading up the unit was a cousin, loyal and efficient. He gave orders to stand ready and be prepared to move against Zvezdev within the next thirty minutes if needed.

Unlike Choi, Ri was not a reasonable man at all.