TableofContentsTitlePageCopyrightPageAcknowledgements

ONE-Tuesday,4:10P.M.,SeoulTWO-Tuesday,5:30

P.M.,SeoulTHREE-Tuesday,3:50

A.M,ChevyChase,MDFOUR-Tuesday,5:55

P.M.,Seoul

FIVE-Tuesday,6:01P.M.,SeoulSIX-Tuesday,4:04A.M.,

theWhiteHouseSEVEN-Tuesday,6:05

P.M.,SeoulEIGHT-Tuesday,4:08

A.M.,ChevyChase,MDNINE-Tuesday,6:10

P.M.,SeoulTEN-Tuesday,6:13P.M.,

Nagato,JapanELEVEN-Tuesday,6:15

P.M.,Seoul

TWELVE-Tuesday,5:15A.M.,theWhiteHouseTHIRTEEN-Tuesday,

5:25A.M.,QuanticoMarineCorpsAirStation,VAFOURTEEN-Tuesday,

7.30P.M.,SeoulFIFTEEN-Tuesday,5:55

A.M.,Washington,D.C.SIXTEEN-Tuesday,8:00

P.M.,theSeaofJapanSEVENTEEN-Tuesday,

6:02A.M.,Op-CenterEIGHTEEN-Tuesday,

6:03A.M.,AndrewsAirForceBaseNINETEEN-Tuesday,

8:19P.M.,SeoulTWENTY-Tuesday,6:25

A.M.,Op-CenterTWENTY-ONE-Tuesday,

9:00P.M.,SeoulTWENTY-TWO-

Tuesday,7:08A.M,Virginia-KentuckyBorderTWENTY-THREE-

Tuesday,7:10A.M.,Op-Center

TWENTY-FOUR-Tuesday,9:15P.M.,SeoulTWENTY-FIVE-

Tuesday,7:35A.M.,Op-CenterTWENTY-SIX-Tuesday,

7:45A.M.,theNationalReconnaissanceOfficeTWENTY-SEVEN-

Tuesday,9:55P.M.,SeoulTWENTY-EIGHT-

Tuesday,7:57A.M.,Op-CenterTWENTY-NINE-

Tuesday,10:00P.M.,SeoulTHIRTY-Tuesday,8:05

A.M.,Op-CenterTHIRTY-ONE-Tuesday,

10:10P.M.,SeoulTHIRTY-TWO-Tuesday,

10:15P.M.,SeoulTHIRTY-THREE-

Tuesday,10:20P.M.,Kosong,NorthKoreaTHIRTY-FOUR-

Tuesday,8:40A.M.,Op-CenterTHIRTY-FIVE-Tuesday,

8:55A.M.,Op-CenterTHIRTY-SIX-Tuesday,

11:07P.M.,theDMZTHIRTY-SEVEN-

Tuesday,9:10A.M.,Washington,D.C.THIRTY-EIGHT-

Tuesday,11:17P.M.,SeaofJapan,twelvemilesfromHungnam,...THIRTY-NINE-Tuesday,

8:20A.M.,theC-141overTexasFORTY-Tuesday,11:25

P.M.,SeoulFORTY-ONE-Tuesday,

9:30A.M.,theWhiteHouseFORTY-TWO-Tuesday,

11:40P.M.,SeoulFORTY-THREE-

Tuesday,11:45P.M.,KCIAHeadquartersFORTY-FOUR-Tuesday,

10:00A.M.,Washington,D.C.FORTY-FIVE-Tuesday,

10:05A.M.,Op-CenterFORTY-SIX-Wednesday,

12:30A.M.,outsideofSeoulFORTY-SEVEN-

Tuesday,10:50A.M.,Op-CenterFORTY-EIGHT-

Wednesday,1:10A.M.,theDiamondMountains,NorthKoreaFORTY-NINE-

Wednesday,1:15,A.M.,theDMZFIFTY-Wednesday,1:20

A.M.,YanguuVillageFIFTY-ONE-Wednesday,

11:30A.M.,Op-CenterFIFTY-TWO-

Wednesday,1:45A.M.,theDMZFIFTY-THREE-

Wednesday,2:00A.M.,YanguuVillageFIFTY-FOUR-Tuesday,

12:30P.M.,Op-CenterFIFTY-FIVE-Wednesday,

2:35A.M.,theDiamondMountainsFIFTY-SIX-Wednesday

2:45A.M.,theDMZ

FIFTY-SEVEN-Wednesday,2:55A.M.,SeoulFIFTY-EIGHT-Tuesday,

1:10P.M.,Op-CenterFIFTY-NINE-

Wednesday,3:30A.M.,SariwonSIXTY-Wednesday,3:45

A.M.,KCIAHeadquartersSIXTY-ONE-Tuesday,

2:00P.M.,Op-CenterSIXTY-TWO-Tuesday,

8:40A.M.,EastofMidwayIsland

SIXTY-THREE-Wednesday,5:20A.M.,theDMZSIXTY-FOUR-Tuesday,

4:00P.M.,Op-CenterSIXTY-FIVE-

Wednesday,6:30A.M.,theDMZSIXTY-SIX-Wednesday,

7:00A.M.theDiamondMountainsSIXTY-SEVEN-

Wednesday,7:10A.M.,Osaka

SIXTY-EIGHT-Wednesday,7:20A.M.,theDMZSIXTY-NINE-Tuesday,

5:30P.M.,Op-CenterSEVENTY-Wednesday,

7:35A.M.,theDMZSEVENTY-ONE-

Wednesday,7:48A.M.,theDiamondMountainsSEVENTY-TWO-

Wednesday,7:50A.M.,theDMZSEVENTY-THREE-

Wednesday,7:53A.M.,SeoulSEVENTY-FOUR-

Wednesday,7:59A.M.,theDiamondMountainsSEVENTY-FIVE-

Wednesday,8:00A.M.,NorthKoreanDMZSEVENTY-SIX-

Wednesday,8:02A.M.,theroadtoYangyangSEVENTY-SEVEN-

Wednesday,6:05P.M.,Op-CenterSEVENTY-EIGHT-

Wednesday,8:10A.M.,SeoulSEVENTY-NINE-

Wednesday,6:17A.M.,Or-CenterEIGHTY-Wednesday,

9:00A.M.,theDiamondMountainsEIGHTY-ONE-

Wednesday,7:20P.M.,Op-CenterEIGHTY-TWO-

Wednesday,9:24A.M.,theDiamondMountainsEIGHTY-THREE-

Wednesday,7:35P.M.,Op-CenterEIGHTY-FOUR-

Wednesday,9:36A.M.,theDiamondMountainsEIGHTY-FIVE-

Wednesday,9:37A.M.,TheDiamondMountainsEIGHTY-SIX-

Wednesday,9:50A.M.,TheDiamondMountainsEIGHTY-SEVEN-

Wednesday,10:30A.M.,Seoul

EIGHTY-EIGHT-Wednesday,9:00P.M.,Op-Center

OthertitlesbyStevePieczenik

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Thisisaworkoffiction.Names,characters,places,andincidentseither

aretheproductoftheauthor’simaginationorareusedfictitiouslyandanyresemblancetoactualpersons,

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TOMCLANCY’SOP-CENTER

ABerkleyBook/publishedbyarrangementwith

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PRINTINGHISTORYBerkleyedition/February1995

Copyright©1995byJackRyanLimitedPartnershipandS&RLiterary,Inc.OP-CENTER™isatrademarkofJackRyanLimitedPartnershipand

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Allrightsreserved.Thisbook,orpartsthereof,maynotbereproducedinanyformwithoutpermission.Thescanning,uploading,anddistributionofthisbookviathe

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AcknowledgmentsWewouldliketothank

JeffRovinforhiscreativeideasandhisinvaluablecontributiontothepreparationofthemanuscript.WewouldalsoliketoacknowledgetheassistanceofMartinH.Greenberg,LarrySegriff,RobertYoudelman,Esq.,andthewonderfulpeopleatThePutnamBerkleyGroup,including

PhyllisGrann,DavidShanks,andElizabethBeier.Asalways,wewouldliketothankRobertGottliebofTheWilliamMorrisAgency,ouragentandfriend,withoutwhomthisbookwouldneverhavebeenconceived.Butmostimportantly,itisforyou,ourreaders,todeterminehowsuccessfulourcollectiveendeavorhasbeen.

—TomClancyandSteve

Pieczenik

ONETuesday,4:10P.M.,Seoul

GregoryDonaldtookasipofscotchandlookedacrossthecrowdedbar.“Doyoueverfindyourself

thinkingback,Kim?Idon’tmeantothismorningorlastweek,but—wayback?”KimHwan,Deputy

DirectoroftheKoreanCentralIntelligenceAgency,

usedaredstirringstrawtopokeatthesliceoflemonfloatinginhisDietCoke.“Tome,Greg,thismorningiswayback.Especiallyondayslikethese.WhatIwouldn’tgivetobeonafishingboatwithmyunclePakinYangyang.”Donaldlaughed.“Ishestill

asfeistyasheusedtobe?”“Feistier.Rememberhow

heusedtohavetwofishingboats?Well,hegotridof

one.Saidhecouldn’tstandhavingapartner.ButsometimesI’dratherbefightingfishandstormsthanbureaucrats.Yourememberwhatitwaslike.”Fromthecornerofhiseye,Hwanwatchedastwomensittingbesidehimpaidtheirtabandleft.Donaldnodded.“I

remember.That’swhyIgotout.”Hwanleanedcloser,

lookedaround.Hiseyesnarrowed,andhisclean-cutfeaturestookonaconspiratorialedge.“Ididn’twanttosayanythingwhiletheSeoulPresseditorsweresittinghere,butdoyourealizethey’veactuallygroundedmyhelicoptersfortoday?”Donald’sbrowarchedwith

surprise.“Aretheycrazy?”“Worse.Reckless.The

pressmonkeyssaidchoppers

crisscrossingoverheadwouldmaketoomuchnoiseandruinthesoundbites.Soifanythinghappens,there’snoaerialrecon.”Donaldfinishedhisscotch,

thenreachedintothesidepocketofhistweedjacket.“It’supsetting,butit’slikeeverywhereelse,Kim.Themarketershavetakenoverfromthetalent.It’sthatwayinintelligencework,government,evenatthe

FriendshipSociety.Noonejustjumpsinthepoolanymore.Everything’sgottobestudiedandevaluateduntilyourinitiativeiscolderthanCuster.”Hwanshookhishead

slowly.“Iwasdisappointedwhenyouquittojointhedipcorps,butyouweresmart.Forgetaboutimprovingthewaytheagencydoesbusiness:Ispendmostofmytimefightingjusttomaintain

thestatusquo.”“Butnoonedoesitbetter.”Hwansmiled.“BecauseI

lovetheagency,right?”Donaldnodded.Hehad

withdrawnhisBlockmeerschaumpipeandapacketofBalkanSobranietobacco.“Tellme—areyouexpectinganytroubletoday?”“We’vehadwarningsfrom

theusuallistofradicals,revolutionaries,andlunatics,butweknowwhoandwhere

theyareandarewatchingthem.They’relikethekookswhocallintoHowardSternshowaftershow.Samecant,differentday.Butthey’remostlytalk.”Donald’sbrowarched

againashetappedinapinchoftobacco.“YougetHowardStern?”Hwanfinishedhissoda.

“No.Iheardbootlegtapeswhenwecrackedapirateringlastweek.Comeon,Greg,

youknowthiscountry.ThegovernmentthinksOprahistoorisquemostofthetime.”Donaldlaughed,andas

Hwanturnedandsaidsomethingtothebartender,hisblueeyesonceagainmovedslowlyacrossthedarkroom.TherewereafewSouth

Koreans,butasitalwayswasinthebarsaroundthegovernmentbuilding,itwasmostlyinternationalpress:

HeatherJacksonfromCBS,BarryBerkfromTheNewYorkTimes,GilVanderwaldfromThePacificSpectator,andotherswhomhedidn’tcaretothinkaboutortalkto.Whichwaswhyhe’dcomehereearlyandtuckedhimselfinafar,darkcornerofthebar,andwhyhiswifeSoonjihadn’tjoinedthem.LikeDonald,shefeltthepresshadnevergivenhimafairshake—notwhenhewas

AmbassadortoKoreatwentyyearsago,andnotwhenhebecametheadviseronKoreanaffairsforOp-Centerjustthreemonthsbefore.Unlikeherhusband,though,Soonjigotangryaboutnegativepress.Gregoryhadlongagolearnedtolosehimselfinhisvintagemeerschaum,acomfortingreminderthat,likeapuffofpipesmoke,aheadlineisjustforthemoment.

ThebartendercameandwentandHwanturnedfromthebar,hisdarkeyesonDonald,hisrightforearmlyingflatandstiffonthecounter.“Sowhatdidyoumeanby

yourquestion?”Hwanasked.“Aboutthinkingback?”Donaldputinthelastof

thetobacco.“DoyourememberafellownamedYunghilOh?”“Vaguely,”Hwansaid.

“Heusedtoteachattheagency.”“Hewasoneofthe

foundingfathersofthepsychologydivision,”Donaldsaid.“AfascinatingoldgentlemanfromTaegu.WhenIfirstcameherein1952,Ohwasjustleaving.Beingbootedout,really.TheKCIAwastryinghardtoestablishitselfasaU.S.-style,state-of-the-artintelligencegroupand,whenhewasn’tlecturingon

psychologicalwarfare,OhwasbusyintroducingaspectsofChondokyo.”“ReligionintheKCIA?

Faithandespionage?”“Notexactly.Itwasakind

ofspiritual,heavenlywayapproachtodeductionandinvestigationhehaddeveloped.Hetaughtthattheshadowsofthepastandfutureareallaroundus.Hebelievedthatthroughmeditation,byreflectingon

peopleandeventsthatwereandwillbe,wecouldtouchthem.”“And?”“Andtheywouldhelpus

seetodaymoreclearly.”Hwansnickered.“No

wondertheydismissedhim.”“Hewasn’tforus,”Donald

agreed,“andfrankly,Idon’tthinkOhhadalltentoesontheground.Butit’sfunny.MoreandmoreIfindmyselfthinkinghewasonto

something—thathewasintheneighborhood,ifnotknockingonthedoor.”Donaldreachedintohis

pocketformatches.Hwanwatchedhisone-timementorclosely.“Anythingyoucanput

yourfingeron?”“No,”Gregoryadmitted.

“Justafeeling.”Hwanscratchedhisright

forearmslowly.“Youalwaysdidhaveaninterestin

unusualpeople.”“Whynot?There’salways

achanceyoucanlearnsomethingfromthem.”“Likethatoldtaekwondo

master.Theoneyoubroughtintoteachusnaginata.”Donaldstruckawooden

matchand,cuppingthebowlofthepipeinhislefthand,heputtheflametothetobacco.“Thatwasagoodprogram,onetheyshouldhaveexpanded.Youneverknow

whenyou’llbeunarmedandhavetodefendyourselfwithatightlyrollednewspaperora—”Thesteakknifeflew

swiftlyfromunderHwan’srightforearmasheslidfromthebarstool.InthesameinstantDonald

archedbackand,stillholdingthebowlofthepipe,hiswristtwistedandswungthestraightstemofthemeerschaumtowardHwan.

Heparriedthelightningthrustoftheknifeand,bringingthepipearounditcounterclockwise,sothestemwaspointingstraightdown,acounterparryofquarte,heknockedthebladetotheleft.Hwanpulledtheknifeback

andthrustforward;Donaldflickedhiswristandbatteditleftagain,andthenathirdtime.Hisyoungopponentwentlowthistime,slashingtowardtheright;Donald’s

elbowcockedtotheside,broughtthestemdowntomeettheknife,andparriedthethrustagain.Thedelicateclack-click-

clackoftheirsparringdrewtheattentionofthepeoplenearestthem.Headsturnedasthemendueled,forearmsmovinginandoutlikepistons,wristspivotingwithprecisionandfinesse.“Isthisforreal?”askeda

techiewithaCNNT-shirt.

Neithermansaidanything.Theyseemedoblivioustoeveryoneastheyfought,theireyeslockedtogether,expressionsflat,bodiesmotionlesssavefortheirleftarms.Theywerebreathingfastthroughtheirnoses,theirlipspressedtightlytogether.Theweaponscontinuedto

flashasthecrowdclosedaroundthecombatantsinathicksemicircle.Finally,therewasablindingseriesas

Hwanlunged,Donaldcaughttheknifeinoctave,boundituptosixte,andthenusedaprise-de-fermovetorollHwan’shandslightly.Donaldfollowedupbyreleasingthebladebriefly,thengivingitahardspankinseptime,sendingthebladetothefloor.Hiseyesremainedfixedon

thoseofHwan;withaslightmoveofhisrighthand,Donaldextinguishedthematchthatwasstillburning

there.Thecrowdburstinto

applauseandwhoops,andseveralpeoplemovedintopatDonaldontheback.Hwangrinnedandextendedhishandand,smiling,Donaldclaspeditbetweenbothofhis.“You’restillamazing,”

Hwansaid.“Youwereholdingback

—”“Onlyonthefirstmove,in

caseyouwereslow.Butyouweren’t.Youmovelikeaghostyourself.”“Likeaghost?”saida

sweetvoicefrombehindDonald.Donaldturnedashiswife

madeherwaythroughthedispersingspectators.Heryouthfulbeautydrewstaresfromthemenofthepress.“Thatwasashameless

display,”shesaidtoherhusband.“Itwaslike

watchingInspectorClouseauandhismanservant.”Hwanbowedatthewaist

asDonaldhookedhisarmaroundhiswife’swaist.Hepulledhercloseandkissedher.“Thatwasn’tmeantfor

youreyes,”Donaldsaid,strikinganewmatchandfinallylightinghispipe.Heglancedattheneonclockabovethebar.“IthoughtIwassupposedtomeetyouat

thegrandstandinfifteenminutes.”“Thatwasago.”Helookedathercuriously.“Fifteenminutesago.”Donald’seyesfell.Heran

ahandthroughhissilverhair.“Sorry.KimandIgottocomparinghorrorstoriesanddeeplyheldpersonalphilosophies.”“Manyofwhichturnedout

tobethesamething,”Hwannoted.

Soonjismiled.“Ihadafeelingthataftertwoyearsyouwouldhavealottotalkabout.”Shelookedatherhusband.“Honey,ifyouwanttocontinuetalkingorfencewithotherutensilsaftertheceremony,Icancancelthatdinnerwithmyparents—”“No,”Hwansaidquickly.

“Don’tdothat.I’llhavethepost-eventanalysistodo,andthatwillruntilllateintheevening.Besides,Imetyour

fatheratthewedding.He’saverylargeman.I’lltryandcometoWashingtonsoonandspendsometimewithyouboth.MaybeI’llevenfindmyselfanAmericanwife,sinceGregtookthebestwomaninKoreaforhimself.”Soonjigavehimasmall

smile.“Someonehadtoshowhimhowtolightenup.”Hwantoldthebartenderto

putthedrinksontheKCIAtab,thenretrievedtheknife,

laiditonthebar,andregardedhisoldfriend.“BeforeIgo,though,Idowanttotellyouthis:I’vemissedyou,Greg.”Donaldgesturedtowardthe

knife.“I’mglad.”Soonjismackedhimonthe

shoulder.Hereachedaroundandbrushedhercheekwiththebackofhishand.“Imeanit,”Hwansaid.

“I’vebeenthinkingalotabouttheyearsafterthewar,

whenyoulookedafterme.Hadmyownparentslived,Icouldnothavehadamorelovingfamily.”Hwanbowedhishead

quicklyandleft;Donaldlookeddown.Soonjiwatchedhimgo,

thenplacedaslenderhandonherhusband’sshoulder.“Thereweretearsinhiseyes.”“Iknow.”“Heleftquicklybecausehe

didn’twanttoupsetyou.”Donaldnodded,then

lookedupathiswife,atthewomanwhohadshowedhimthatwisdomandyoutharenotmutuallyexclusive...andthatapartfromittakingahelluvalongtimetostandupstraightinthemorning,agereallywasastateofmind.“That’swhatmakeshimso

special,”DonaldsaidasHwansteppedintothebrightsunlight.“Kim’ssoftinside,

hardoutside.YunghilOhusedtosaythatwasarmorforeveryeventuality.”“YunghilOh?”Donaldtookherhandand

ledherfromthebar.“AmanwhousedtoworkattheKCIA,someoneI’mbeginningtowishI’dgottentoknowalittlebitbetter.”Trailingathinlineof

smokebehindhim,Donaldescortedhiswifeontobroad,crowdedChonggyechonno.

Turningnorth,theystrolledhand-in-handtowardtheimposingKyongbokPalace,atthebackoftheoldCapitolBuilding,firstbuiltin1392andrebuiltin1867.Astheyneared,theycouldseethelongblueVIPgrandstand,andwhatpromisedtobeacuriousblendofboredomandspectacleasSouthKoreacelebratedtheanniversaryoftheelectionofitsfirstPresident.

TWOTuesday,5:30P.M.,Seoul

Thebasementofthecondemnedhotelsmelledofthepeoplewhosleptthereatnight;themusky,liquor-tingedscentofthepoorandforgotten,thoseforwhomthisday,thisanniversary,meantonlyachancetogetafewextracoinsfromthepeoplewhowerecomingto

watch.Butthoughthepermanentboardersweregone,beggingfortheirdailybread,thesmallbrickroomwasn’tempty.Amanliftedthestreet-

levelwindowandslidin,followedbytwoothers.Tenminutesbefore,thethreehadbeenintheirownhotelsuiteattheSavoy,theirbaseofoperations,whereeachmanhaddressedinnondescriptstreetclothing.Eachman

carriedablackduffelbagwithoutmarkings;twohandledtheirbagswithrespectwhilethethirdman,whoworeaneyepatch,tooknocare.Hewalkedtowherethehomelesshadcollectedbrokenchairsandtornclothing,placedhisbagonanold,woodenschooldesk,anddrewopenthezipper.Pullingapairofbootsfrom

within,Eyepatchhandedthemtooneofthemen;a

secondpairwenttothenextman,andEyepatchkeptthethird.Workingquickly,themen

removedtheirownboots,hidthemamongapileofoldshoes,andslippedonthenewpair.Reachingbackintothebag,Eyepatchremovedabottleofspringwaterbeforestowingtheduffelbaginadarkcorneroftheroom.Thebagwasn’tempty,butrightnowtheydidn’tneedwhat

wasinside.Soonenough,Eyepatch

thought.Ifallwentwell,verysoon.Holdingthewaterinhis

glovedhand,Eyepatchreturnedtothewindow,raisedit,andlookedout.Thealleywasclear.He

noddedtohiscompanions.Squeezingthroughthe

window,Eyepatchturnedandhelpedtheothersoutwiththeirbags.Whentheywere

backinthealley,heopenedtheplasticbottleandthemendrankmostofthewater;withnearlyaquarterofabottlestillremaining,hedroppedthecontainerandsteppedonit,splashingwatereverywhere.Then,withthetwobagsin

hand,themencrossedthedirtyalley,makingsuretheywalkedthroughthewaterastheyheadedtowardChonggyechonno.

Fifteenminutesbeforethespeechesweretobegin,KwangHoandKwangLee—K-OneandK-Two,astheywereknowntofriendsatthegovernmentpressoffice—weremakingafinaltestofthesoundsystem.Tallandslender,K-One

stoodatthepodium,hisredblazerastarkcontrastagainstthestatelyedificebehindhim.Threehundredyardsaway,

behindthegrandstand,thetall

andlargeK-Twosatinthesoundtruck,hunchedoveraconsoleandsnuggledbeneathearphonesthatpickedupeverythinghispartnerwassaying.K-Onesteppedbeforethe

leftmostofthethreemicrophones.“There’sanextremelyfat

ladysittingonthetopofthegrandstand,”hesaid.“Ithinktheseatsmaycollapse.”K-Twosmiledandresisted

theurgetoputhiscolleagueonloudspeaker.Instead,hepressedabuttonontheconsolebeforehim:aredlightwentonunderthemicrophone,indicatingthatthemicrophonewason.K-Onecovereditwithhis

lefthandandmovedtothecentermicrophone.“Canyouimaginewhatit

wouldbelikemakinglovetoher?”K-Onesaid.“Herperspirationalonewould

drownyou.”Thetemptationgrew

stronger.Instead,K-Twopressedthenextbuttonontheconsole.Theredlightwenton.K-Onecoveredthemiddle

microphonewithhisrighthandandspokeintothethird.“Oh,”saidK-One,“I’m

terriblysorry.That’syourcousinCh’un.Ididn’tknow,Kwang.Truly.”K-Twopunchedthelast

buttonandwatchedasK-OnewalkedtowardtheCNNtrucktomakesuretheirfeedfromthepresstruckwassecure.Heshookhishead.One

dayhe’ddoit.Hereallywould.He’dwaituntiltheesteemedsoundengineersaidsomethingreallyembarrassingand—Theworldwentblackand

K-Twoslumpedoverhisconsole.Eyepatchshovedthebig

mantothefloorofthesoundtruckandstuffedtheblackjackinhispocket.Whilehebeganunscrewingthetopoftheconsole,onemangingerlyopenedtheduffelbagswhilethethirdstoodinsidethedoor,ablackjackinhandincasetheothermanreturned.Workingquickly,Eyepatch

liftedthemetalfaceplate,leaneditagainstthewall,andexaminedthewires.Whenhe

foundtheonehewaslookingfor,helookedathiswatch.Theyhadsevenminutes.“Hurry,”hesnarled.Theothermannoddedas

hecarefullyremovedthebrickofplasticexplosivefromeachduffelbag.Hepressedthemtotheundersideoftheconsole,welloutofsight;whenhewasfinished,Eyepatchremovedtwowiresfromtheduffelbagsandhandedthemover.Theman

insertedtheendofawireintoeachbrick,thenhandedtheotherendstoEyepatch.Eyepatchlookedoutthe

smallone-waywindowatthepodium.Thepoliticianshadstartedtomovein.Thetraitorsandpatriotsbothwerechattingamiablyamongthemselves;noonewouldnoticethatanythingwasamiss.Punchingoffthethree

switchesthatcontrolledthe

microphones,Eyepatchquicklyknottedtheendoftheplastiquewirestothewiresofthesoundsystem.Whenhewasfinished,Eyepatchreplacedthemetalplate.Histwomeneachgrabbed

anemptyduffelbagand,asquietlyastheyhadentered,thethreemendeparted.

THREETuesday,3:50

A.M,ChevyChase,MD

PaulHoodrolledoverandlookedattheclock.Thenhelaybackandpushedahandthroughhisblackhair.Notevenfour.Damn.Itdidn’tmakesense;it

neverdid.Therewasnocatastropheintheoffing,no

ongoingsituation,nocrisislooming.Yetmostnightssincetheymovedhere,hisactivelittlemindhadgentlynudgedhimfromsleepandsaid,“Fourhoursofsleepisenough,Mr.Director!Timetogetupandworryaboutsomething.”Nutstothat.Op-Center

occupiedhimanaverageoftwelvehoursmostdays,andsometimes—duringahostagesituationorstakeout—exactly

doublethat.Itwasn’tfairthatitshouldalsoholdhimprisonerinthesmallhoursofthenight.Asthoughyou’vegota

choice.FromhisearliestdaysasaninvestmentbankerthroughhisstintasDeputyAssistantSecretaryoftheTreasurytorunningoneoftheworld’smostbizarreandintoxicatingcities,hehadalwaysbeenaprisonerofhismind.Ofwonderingifthere

wasabetterwaytodosomething,oradetailhemighthaveoverlooked,orsomeoneheforgottothankorrebuke...orevenkiss.Paulabsentlyrubbedhis

jaw,withitsstronglinesanddeepcreases.Thenhelookedoverathiswife,lyingonherside.GodblessSharon.She

alwaysmanagedtosleepthesleepofthejust.Butthen,shewasmarriedtohimandthat

wouldexhaustanyone.Ordrivethemtoseeanattorney.Orboth.Heresistedtheurgeto

touchherstrawberry-blondehair.Attheveryleastherhair.ThefullJunemooncastherslenderbodyinasharpwhitelight,makingherlooklikeaGreekstatue.Shewasforty-one,NordicTrackslim,andlookedtenyearsyounger—andshestillhadtheenergyofagirltenyearsyounger

thanthat.Sharonwasamazing,

really.WhenhewastheMayorofLosAngeles,hewouldcomehomeandhavealatedinner,usuallytalkingonthephonebetweensaladandSanka,whileshegotthekidsreadyforbed.Thenshewouldsitdownwithhimorsnuggleonthecouchandlieconvincingly—tellhimnothingimportanthadhappened,thathervolunteer

workatthepediatricswardofCedarswentsmoothly.Sheheldbacksothathecouldopenupanddumphisday’stroublesonher.No,heremembered.

Nothingimportanthappened.OnlyAlexander’sterribleboutswithasthmaorHarleigh’sproblemswiththekidsatschoolorhatecallsandmailandpackagesfromtheradicalright,theextremeleft,and,evenonce,Express

Mailfromabipartisanunionofthetwo.Nothinghappened.Oneofthereasonshe

optednottorunforreelectionwasbecausehefelthiskidsweregrowingupwithouthim.Orhewasgrowingoldwithoutthem...hewasn’tsurewhichdisturbedhimmore.AndevenSharon,hisrock,wasstartingtopushhim,forthesakeofallofthem,tofindsomethinga

littlelessabsorbing.Sixmonthsbefore,when

thePresidentofferedhimthedirectorshipofOp-Center,alargelyautonomousnewagencythatthepresshadn’tquitediscovered,Hoodhadbeenpreparingtogobackintobanking.Butwhenhementionedtheoffertohisfamily,histen-year-oldsonandtwelve-year-olddaughterseemedthrilledbytheideaofmovingtoWashington.

SharonhadfamilyinVirginia—andasSharonandhebothknew,cloakanddaggerworkhadtobemoreinterestingthancheckanddollarwork.Paulturnedontohisside,

stretchedahandtojustaninchaboveSharon’sbare,alabastershoulder.NoneoftheeditorialwritersinLosAngelesevergotit.TheysawSharon’scharmandwit,andwatchedhercharmpeopleawayfrombaconand

doughnutsonthehalf-hourweeklyMcDonnellHealthyFoodReportoncable,buttheyneverrealizedhowmuchherstrengthandstabilityenabledhimtosucceed.Hemovedhishand

throughtheair,alongherwhitearm.Theyneededtodothisonabeachsomewhere.Someplacewhereshewouldn’tworryaboutthekidshearingorthephoneringingortheUPStruck

pullingup.Ithadbeenawhilesincethey’dgoneanywhere.NotsincecomingtoD.C.,infact.Ifonlyhecouldrelax,not

worryabouthowthingsweregoingatOp-Center.MikeRodgerswascapableashell,butwithhislucktheagencywouldscoreitsfirstbigcrisiswhilehewasonPitcairnIsland,anditwouldtakehimweekstogetback.ItwouldkillhimifRodgersever

handedhimawinlikethat,neatlywrapped.Thereyougoagain.Paulshookhishead.Here

hewas,lyingnexttooneofthesexiest,mostlovingladiesinD.C.,andhismindhadwanderedtowork.Itwasn’ttimeforatrip,hetoldhimself.Itwastimeforalobotomy.Hewasfilledwitha

mixtureofloveandneedashewatchedSharon’sslow

breathing,herbreastsrising—beckoning,hefancied.Extendinghishandpastherarm,heallowedhisfingerstohoveroverthesheerfabricofherteddy.Letthechildrenwake.Whatwouldtheyhear?Thathelovedtheirmother,andshelovedhim?Hisfingershadjust

brushedhersilkenteddywhenheheardthecryfromtheotherroom.

FOURTuesday,5:55P.M.,Seoul

“Youreallyoughttospendmoretimewithhim,Gregory.You’reglowing,doyouknowthat?”Donaldtappedouthispipe

againsttheseatofthegrandstand.Hewatchedtheashesfallfromthetoprowtothestreetbelow,thenputthepipebackinitscase.

“Whydon’tyouvisitforaweekortwoatatime?IcanruntheSocietyalone.”Donaldlookedintoher

eyes.“BecauseIneedyounow.”“Youcanhaveboth.What

wasthatTomJonessongmymotherwasalwaysplaying?‘Myhearthasloveenoughfortwo...’”Donaldlaughed.“Soonji,

Kimdidmoreformethanhe’lleverknow.Takinghim

homefromtheorphanageeachdayhelpedkeepmesane.TherewasakindofkarmicbalancetohisinnocenceandthemayhemwewereplanningatKCIAandwhenIworkedattheEmbassy.”Soonji’sbrowknit.“What

doesthathavetodowithseeingmoreofhim?”“Whenwe’retogether—I

guessit’spartcultural,andpartKim,butIwasnever

abletoinstillinhimthattraitAmericankidsembracesoeasily:forgetyourfolksandhaveagoodtime.”“Howcanyouexpecthim

toforgetyou?”“Idon’t,buthefeelsas

thoughhecan’tdoenoughforme,andhetakesthatvery,verypersonally.TheKCIAdoesn’thaveatabatthatbar.Hedoes.Heknewhewouldn’twinourfight,buthewaswillingtoacceptapublic

drubbingforme.Whenwe’retogether,hecarrieshissenseofobligationwithhimlikeamillstone.Idon’twantthateatingathim.”Soonjihookedanarm

throughhisandpushedbackherhairwithherfreehand.“You’rewrong.Youshouldlethimloveyouasheneeds—”Shefrozeforamomentandthenshoterect.“Soon?Whatisit?”Soonjifiredalooktoward

thebar.“Theearringsyougavemeforouranniversary.Oneofthemismissing.”“Maybeyouleftithome.”“No.Ihaditinthebar.”“Right.IfeltitwhenI

brushedyourcheek—”Soonjishothimalook.

“ThathadtobewhenIlostit.”Shestoodandhurriedtotheendofthegrandstand.“I’llberightback!”“Whydon’tIcallthem?”

Donaldshouted.“Someone

heremusthaveacellular—”Butshewasalreadygone,

makingherwaydownthestepsand,amomentlater,hurryingdownthestreettowardthebar.Donaldslumpedforward

andrestedhiselbowsonhisknees.Thepoorgirlwouldbe

devastatedifitwaslost.He’djusthadtheearringscustom-madefortheirsecondanniversary,withtwosmall

emeralds,herfavoritestones.Hecouldhaveitmadeover,butitwouldn’tbethesame.AndSoonjiwouldcarryherguiltaround.Heshookhisheadslowly.

Howwasitwithhimthateverytimeheshowedsomeonelove,itcamebackaspain?Kim,Soonji—Maybeitwashim.Bad

karmaorsinsinapreviouslifeormaybehewasablackcatwitharesume.

Leaningback,GregoryturnedhiseyestowardthepodiumasthePresidentoftheNationalAssemblysteppedtothemicrophone.

FIVETuesday,6:01P.M.,Seoul

ParkDukhadthefaceofacat,roundandunworried,witheyesthatwerewiseandalert.Asherosefromhisseat

andmovedtothepodium,thepeopleinthegrandstandandthecrowdstandingbeloweruptedintoapplause.Heraisedhishandsin

acknowledgment,framedmajesticallybythestatelypalace,withitswalledgroundsandcollectionofoldpagodasfromotherpartsofthecountry.GregoryDonaldclenched

histeeth,caughthimself,thenreturnedhisexpressiontoneutral.AsPresidentoftheU.S./KoreanFriendshipSocietyinWashington,hehadtobenonpoliticalaspertainedtomattersinSouth

Korea.IfthepeoplewantedreunificationwiththeNorth,hehadtogoalongwiththatinpublic.Iftheydidn’t,hehadtogoalongwiththatinpublic.Privately,heyearnedforit.

NorthandSouthbothhadagreatdealtooffereachotherandtheworld,culturally,religiously,andeconomically,andthewholewouldbegreaterthanthesumofitsparts.

Duk,aveteranofthewarandafierceanti-Communist,wasopposedtoeventalkingaboutit.Donaldcouldrespecthispolitics,ifhetried—buthecouldneverrespectanyonewhofoundasubjectsodistastefulitcouldn’tevenbedebated.Peoplelikethatweretyrantsinthemaking.Aftertoo-longapplause,

Dukputhishandsdown,leanedtowardthepodium,andspoke.Thoughhislips

moved,nothingcameout.Dukdrewbackand,witha

Cheshiregrin,tappedthemicrophone.“Unificationists!”hesaid

tothepoliticiansseatedinarowbehindhim,andseveralapplaudedlightly.Therewerecheersfromnearbymembersofthecrowdwhohadheardhim.Donaldallowedhimselfa

littlefrown.Dukreallybuggedhim,asmuchforhis

smoothmannerasthegrowingsizeofhisfollowing.Aredflashcaught

Donald’seyeas,fromsomewherebehindtheaugustgathering,afigureinaredblazerwentracingtothesoundtruck.They’dhavethisfixedin

notime.Fromthe1988Olympics,Donaldrememberedjusthowgoodthefocused,savvySouthKoreanswereat

troubleshooting.Helostthefrownashe

turnedtolookbacktowardthebarandsawSoonjirunningtowardhim.Herarmwasraisedintriumph,andhethankedGodthatatleastsomethingwentrighttoday.

KimHwansatinanunmarkedcaronSajingo,southofthePalace,twohundredyardsbehindwherethepodiumhadbeenerected.

Fromhere,hehadacompleteviewofthesquareandofhisagentsonrooftopsandinwindows.HewatchedasDukapproachedandthensteppedbackfromthepodium.Nosoundfroma

bureaucrat:nowtherewashisdefinitionofaperfectworld.Heraisedthefieldglasses

sittingbesidehim.Dukwasstandingthere,noddingtoacolytesinthecrowd.Well,likeitornot,thiswaswhat

democracywasallabout.ItwasbetterthantheeightyearsthattheyhadGeneralChunDooHwanrunningthingsasheadofthemartiallawcommand.Kimdidn’tlikehissuccessor,RohTaeWoo,anybetterwhenhewaselectedPresidentin1987,butatleasthewaselected.Heturnedtheglasses

towardGregoryandwonderedwhereSoonjihadgone.

Ifanyothermanhadwonhisformerassistant,Hwanwouldhavehatedhimtohislastbreath.Hehadalwayslovedher,butKCIApolicyforbaderelationshipsamongemployees;itwouldbetooeasyforinfiltratorstogetinformationbyplacingasecretaryorresearcheronstaffandhavinghercourtanofficial.Shewasalmostworth

quittingfor,butthatwould

havebrokenGregory’sheart.HismentorhadalwaysfeltthatHwanhadthemindandsoulandsensitivepoliticalinstinctsofaKCIAman,andhadspentasmallfortuneeducatinghimandpreparinghimforthatlife.Evenasthickastheredtapegotattimes,HwanknewthatGregorywasright:thiswasthelifeforhim.Therewasabeeptohis

left,andKimloweredthe

glasses.Awidebandradiowassetinthedashboardofthecar;whenanyoneneededtotalktohim,atonesoundedandaredlightflashedabovethebuttonthataccessedtheirstation.Alightcameonfromthe

operativestationedatopYi’sDepartmentStore.Hwanpunchedthebutton.

“Hwanhere.Over.”“Sir,wehavealonefigure

inaredblazerrunningtoward

thesoundtruck.Over.”“Willcheck.Over.”Hwanpickedupthe

portablephoneandcalledtheofficeoftheeventcoordinatoratthePalace.Aharriedvoicesaid,“Yes

—whatisit?”“ThisisKimHwan.Isthat

yourmangoingtothesoundtruck?”“Itis.Incaseyoudidn’t

notice,ouraudioisdown.Maybeoneofyourmendidit

whentheywerecheckingthestageforexplosives.”“Iftheydid,we’lltake

awaytheirbones.”Therewasalongsilence.“Theirdogbones.Wehad

thesniffsquadout.”“That’sgreat,”saidthe

coordinator.“Oneofthemmighthaveurinatedonawire.”“Politicalcommentary,”

Hwansaid.“Iwantyoutostayonthelinetillyouhear

something.”Anotherlongsilence.

Suddenlyafarawayvoicecrackledthroughthephone.“MyGod!K-Two—”Hwanwasalert.“Turnup

yourradio.Iwanttohearwhathesays.”Thevolumerose.“K-One,what’swrong?”

thecoordinatorasked“Sir—K-Twoisonthe

floor.Hishead’sbleeding.Hemusthavefallen.”

“Checktheconsole.”Therewasatensesilence.

“Themicrophonesareoff.Butwecheckedthem.Whywouldhehavedonethat?”“Turnthembackon—”“Allright.”Hwan’seyesnarrowed.He

squeezedthereceivertightlyandwasalreadystartingoutthedoor.“Tellhimnottotouchanything!”heshouted.“Someonemayhavegotteninthereand—”

Therewasaflash,andtherestofhissentencewasdrownedoutbyamassiveblast.

SIXTuesday,4:04

A.M.,theWhiteHouse

TheSTU-3securedphoneonthenightstandrang.Theconsolehadarectangular,lightedscreenontopwithanLEDdisplaygivingthenameandnumberofthepersoncalling,andwhetherornotthelinewassecure.

Notquiteawake,PresidentMichaelLawrencedidn’tlookatthescreenashereachedforthereceiver.“Yes?”“Mr.President,wehavea

situation.”ThePresidentclimbedto

anelbow.Nowhelookedatthescreen:itwasStevenBurkow,theNationalSecuritychief.Belowhisphonenumber,itsaidConfidential—notSecretor

TopSecret.ThePresidentdugthepalm

ofhisfreehandintohislefteye.“Whatisit?”heaskedasherubbedhispalmintotheothereyeandlookedattheclockbesidethephone.“Sir,sevenminutesago

therewasanexplosioninSeoul,outsidethePalace.”“Thecelebration,”hesaid

knowingly.“Howbad?”“Ijusttookaquicklookat

thevideo.Thereappearsto

havebeenhundredsofcasualties,possiblyseveraldozendeaths.”“Anyofourpeople?”“Idon’tknow.”“Terrorism?”“Itappearstobe.Asound

truckwasobliterated.”“Hasanyonecalledto

claimresponsibility?”“Kaltisonthephonewith

theKCIArightnow.Sofar,noone.”ThePresidentwasalready

onhisfeet.“CallAv,Mel,Greg,Ernie,andPaulandhavethemmeetusintheSituationRoomatfive-fifteen.WasLibbythere?”“Notyet.Shewasenroute

fromtheEmbassy—wantedtobelateforDuk’sspeech.”“Goodgirl.Getheronthe

phone;I’lltakeitdownstairs.AndcalltheVicePresidentinPakistanandaskhimtocomebackthisafternoon.”Hangingup,thePresident

tappedtheintercombesidethephoneandaskedhisvalettotakeoutablacksuit,redtie.Powerclothes,incasehehadtotalktothemediaanddidn’thavetimetochange.Ashehurriedacrossthe

softcarpettothebathroom,MeganLawrencestirred;heheardhercallhisnamesoftly,butheignoredherasheshutthebathroomdoor.

SEVENTuesday,6:05P.M.,Seoul

Thethreemenwalkedcalmlydownthealley.Whentheyreachedthewindowoftheoldhotel,thetwomenslidinwhileEyepatchwatchedthestreet.Whentheywereinside,hefollowedquickly.Eyepatchhurriedtothe

duffelbaghehadleftbehind

andpulledthreebundlesfrominside.HekepttheSouthKoreancaptain’suniformforhimself,andtossedthenoncomuniformstotheothers.Theyremovedtheirboots,stuffedtheminthebagwiththeirclothes,andquicklydonnedtheuniforms.Whentheywerefinished,

Eyepatchwentbacktothewindow,climbedthrough,andmotionedfortheotherstojoinhim.Bagsinhand,they

quicklycrossedthealleyandwalkedawayfromthePalace,towardthesidestreetwhereafourthmanwaitedinanidlingjeep.Assoonastheywereseated,thejeeppulledontoChonggyechonnoandheadedawayfromtheexplosion,towardthenorth.

EIGHTTuesday,4:08

A.M.,ChevyChase,MD

Quietlyshuttingthebedroomdoor,PaulHoodwalkedovertohisson’sbed,layahandoverhiseyes,andswitchedonthelampbesidehisbed.“Dad—”theboywheezed.“Iknow,”Hoodsaidsoftly.

Hecrackedhisfingerstoadmitthelightslowly,thenreachedunderthenightstandandtookoutthePulmoAide.Flippingthelidofthelunchbox-sizedunit,HooduncoiledthetubeandhandedittoAlexander.TheboyputoneendinhismouthwhilehisfathereyedroppedtheVentolinsolutionintotheslotontop.“Isupposeyou’llwantto

kickmybuttwhileyoudo

this?”Theboynoddedgravely.“I’mgoingtoteachyou

chess,youknow.”Alexandershrugged.“It’sagamewhereyoucan

kickmentalbutt.That’salotmoresatisfying.”Alexandermadeaface.Afterswitchingontheunit,

HoodwalkedovertothesmallTrinitroninthecorneroftheroom,turnedontheGenesisunit,thenreturned

withapairofjoysticksastheMortalKombatlogoblazedontothescreen.“Anddon’tputinthe

passwordforthebloodyversion,”Hoodsaidbeforehandingonetotheboy.“Idon’twantmyheartbeingtornouttonight.”Hisson’seyeswentwide.“That’sright.Iknowall

abouttheA,B,A,C,A,B,BsequenceontheCodeofHonorscreen.Iwatchedyou

doitlasttime,andIhadMattStolltellmewhatitwasallabout.”Theboy’seyeswerestill

saucersashisfathersatontheedgeofthebed.“Yeah...youdon’tmess

withOp-Centertechno-weenies,kid.Ortheirboss.”Withthenebulizer

mouthpieceheldfirmlybetweenhislips,AlexandermadeapointofpressingjusttheStartbutton.Soon,the

roomwasfilledwithgruntsandsharpslapsasLiuKangandJohnnyCagebattledforsupremacyonthevideoscreen.Forthefirsttime,theelder

Hoodwasbeginningtoholdhisownwhenthephonerang.Atthishour,itcouldonlybeawrongnumberoracrisis.Heheardthefloorboards

creak,andamomentlaterSharonpokedherheadin.“It’sSteveBurkow.”

Hoodwasinstantlyenergized.Atthishour,ithadtobesomethingbig.Alexanderhadusedthe

distractiontohithisfather’sproxywithtwoquickflyingkicks,andasHoodroseJohnnyCagefellbackward,dead.“Atleastyoudon’tgetto

ripoutmyheart,”Hoodsaidashesetthejoystickdownandheadedtowardthedoor.Nowhiswife’seyeswere

wide.“Guytalk,”Hoodsaidas

hehurriedpasther,givingheralovingpatonthebehindwhenhewasbehindthedoor.Thebedroomphonewasa

secureline,notaportable.HoodwasonitforonlyaslongasittookfortheNationalSecurityAdvisertotellhimabouttheexplosionandtocometothemeetingintheSituationRoom.Sharonsaunteredin.From

thebedroom,HoodheardthesoundsofcombatasAlexanderbattledthecomputer.“SorryIdidn’thearhim,”

shesaid.Hoodsteppedfromhis

pajamabottomsandpulledonhispants.“It’sokay.Iwasupanyway.”Shecockedherhead

towardthephone.“Isitbig?”“TerrorisminSeoul,a

bombblast.That’sallI

know.”Sherubbedherbarearms.

“Byanychance,wereyoutouchingmeinbed?”Hoodsnatchedawhite

shirtfromtheclosetdoorknobandhalfsmiled.“Iwasthinkingaboutit.”“Mmmm...must’vecome

throughinmydream.Icouldswearyoudid.”Sittingonthebed,Hood

slidintohisThomMcCanns.Sharonsatdownbeside

himandstrokedhisbackashetiedhisshoes.“Paul,doyouknowwhatweneed?”“Avacation,”hesaid.“Notjustavacation.Time

away—alone.”Hestoodandgrabbedhis

watch,wallet,keys,andsecuritypassfromthenightstand.“Iwasjustlyinghere,thinkingthat.”Sharondidn’tsayanything;

hertwistedmouthsaiditall.“Ipromise,we’llhaveit,”

hesaid,gentlykissingheronthehead.“Iloveyou,andassoonasIsavetheworld,we’llgoandexploresomepartofit.”“Callme?”Sharonsaid,

followinghimoutthedoor.“Iwill,”hesaidashe

joggeddownthehall,tookthestairstwoatatime,andflewoutthefrontdoor.

AshebackedtheVolvofromthedriveway,Hood

punchedinMikeRodgers’snumberandputhimonspeaker.Thephonebarelyrang

once.Therewassilenceontheotherend.“Mike?”“Yeah,Paul,”Rodgers

said.“Iheard.”Heheard?Hoodscowled.

HelikedRodgers,headmiredhimagreatdeal,andhedependedonhimevenmore.ButHoodpromisedhimself

thatifthedayevercamethathecaughtthetwo-starGeneraloff-guard,hewouldretire.Becausehisprofessionallifejustwouldn’tgetanybetterthanthat.“Whotoldyou?”Hood

asked.“SomeoneatthebaseinSeoul?”“No,”saidRodgers.“Isaw

itonCNN.”Thescowldeepened.Hood

himselfcouldn’tsleep,buthewasbeginningtothink

Rodgersdidn’trequiresleep.Maybebachelorshadmoreenergy,ormaybehe’dmadeadealwiththedevil.He’dhavehisanswerifoneofhistwenty-year-oldgirlfriendseverlandedhim,orwhenanothersixandahalfyearspassed,whichevercamefirst.Sincethecarphonewasn’t

secure,Hoodhadtocouchhisinstructionswithcare.“Mike,I’monmywayto

seetheboss.Idon’tknow

whathe’sgoingtosay,butIwantyoutogetaStrikerteamonthefield.”“Goodidea.Anyreasonto

thinkhe’llfinallyletusplayabroad?”“None,”Hoodsaid.“Butif

hedecideshewantstoplayhardballwithsomeone,atleastwe’vegotaheadstart.”“Ilikeit,”Rodgerssaid.

“AsLordNelsonputitattheBattleofCopenhagen,‘Markyou!Iwouldnotbe

elsewhereforthousands.’”Hoodhungup,feeling

strangelyuneasyaboutRodgers’sremark.Butheputitfromhismindashecallednight-shiftAssistantDirectorCurtHardawayandinstructedhimtohavetheprimeteamintheofficebyfive-thirty.HealsoaskedhimtotrackdownGregoryDonald,whohadbeeninvitedtothecelebration—andwhohehopedwasallright.

NINETuesday,6:10P.M.,Seoul

GregoryDonaldhadbeenknockeddownthreerowsfromwherehe’dbeensitting,buthe’dlandedonsomeonewhohadcushionedhisfall.Hisbenefactor,alargewoman,wasstrugglingtogetupandDonaldrolledoff,takingcarenottolandontheyoungmanbesidehim.

“I’msorry,”hesaid,bendingclosetothewoman.“Areyouallright?”Thewomandidn’tlookup,

andonlywhenheaskedagaindidDonaldbecomeawareoftheloudringinginhisears.Hetouchedafingertohisears;therewasnoblood,butheknewitwouldbeawhilebeforeheheardanythingclearly.Hesatthereforamoment,

collectinghiswits.Hisfirst

thoughtwasthatthegrandstandhadcollapsed,butthatclearlywasn’tthecase.Thenherememberedthecrashingroarfollowedaninstantlaterbythehitinhischest,arollingimpactthatknockedhimdownandout.Hisheadclearedquickly.Abomb.Theremusthave

beenabomb.Hisheadsnappedtothe

right,towardtheboulevard.Soonji!

Risingunsteadily,Donaldwaitedamomenttomakesurehewasn’tgoingtopassout,thenhurriedlypickedhiswaydownthegrandstandtothestreet.Dustfromtheexplosion

hungintheairlikeathickfog,anditwasimpossibletoseemorethantwofeetinanydirection.Ashepassedpeopleinthegrandstandandtheninthestreet,someweresittinginastateofshock,

whileotherswerecoughing,moaning,andwavingtheirhandsinfrontoftheirfacestocleartheair,manytryingtogetupordownoroutfromunderdebris.Bloodybodieslayhereandthere,riddledwithshrapnelfromtheblast.Donaldhurtforthem,but

hecouldn’tstop.NotuntilheknewthatSoonjiwassafe.Themuffledsoundof

sirenstorethroughtheringinginhisears,and

Donaldpausedashesearchedfortheirflashingredlights:thatwouldbewheretheboulevardwas.Spottingthem,hehalfwalked,halfstumbledthroughthepowderymist,sometimessteppingsuddenlyandawkwardlyaroundvictimsorlargepiecesoftwistedmetal.Ashenearedthestreethecouldhearmuffledshouts,seehazyfiguresinwhitemedicalcoatsorbluepolice

uniformsmovingthiswayandthat.Donaldstoppedcoldashe

nearlywalkedintothewheelrimofatruck.Themassivemetaldiskwasturningslowly,shardsofrubberhangingfromitlikedarkseaweedfromagalleon.Lookingdown,Donaldrealizedthathewasalreadyontheboulevard.Hesteppedbackand

lookedtotheright—

No.Theotherway.She’dbeencomingfromthedirectionofYi’s.Donaldtensedassomeone

grabbedhisarm.Helookedtohisrightandsawayoungwomaninwhite.“Sir,areyouallright?”Hesquintedandpointedto

hisear.“Isaid,areyouallright?”Henodded.“Takecareof

theothers,”heyelled.“I’mtryingtogettothe

departmentstore.”Thewomanlookedathim

strangely.“Areyousureyou’reallright,sir?”Henoddedagainashe

gentlyremovedherfingersfromhisarm.“I’mfine.MywifewaswalkingthereandI’vegottofindher.”Themedic’seyeswere

strangeasshesaid,“ThisisYi’s,sir.”Assheturnedtohelp

someoneleaningagainsta

mailbox,Donaldsteppedbackseveralstepsandlookedup.Thewordshadhithimlikeasecondblastandhestruggledtodrawbreathintohistightchest.Hecouldseenowthatthetruckhadnotonlybeenknockedonitsside,butblownintothefacadeofthedepartmentstore.Hesqueezedhiseyesshutandclutchedthesidesofhisheadasheshookitvigorously,tryingnotto

picturewhatmightbeontheotherside.Nothinghappenedtoher,

hetoldhimself.Shewastheluckyone,they’dalwaysknownthat.Thegirlwhowondoorprizes.Whopickedwinninghorses.Who’dmarriedhim.Shewasallright.Shehadtobe.Hefeltanotherhandonhis

arm,andturnedquickly.Thelongblackhairwasfleckedwithwhite,andthefawn-

coloreddresswassmudgedwithdirt,butSoonjiwasstandingbesidehim,smiling.“ThankGod!”hecried,

andhuggedhertightly.“Iwassoworried,Soon!ThankGodyou’reallright....”Hisvoicetrailedoffasshe

suddenlywentlimp.Hemovedhisarmtocatchheraroundthewaist,andthesleeveofhisjacketstucktoherback.Withamountingsenseof

horror,hekneltwithhiswifeinhisarms.Carefullyshiftinghertoherside,helookedatherbackandchokedwhenhesawwheretheclothinghadbeenburnedaway,thefleshandfabricbothsoakedwithdarkredblood,whitebonepeekingthrough.Clutchinghiswifetohim,GregoryDonaldheardhimselfashescreamed,heardclearlythewailthatrosefromthebottomofhissoul.

Aflashcubeblazed,andthefamiliarfaceofthemedicbentclose.Shemotionedtosomeonebehindher,andsoontherewereotherhandspullingathis,tryingtowrestSoonjifromhim.Donaldresisted,thenletthemhaveherasherealizedthathislovewasnotwhatthispreciousgirlneedednow.

TENTuesday,6:13

P.M.,Nagato,JapanThepachinkoparlorwasa

smallerversionoftheonesmadefamousintheGinzadistrictofTokyo.Longandnarrow,thebuildingwasnearlythelengthoftenrailroadboxcarslaidendtoend.Theairwasthickwithcigarettesmokeandtheclatteringofballbearingsas

menplayedthegamesthatlinedthewallsonbothsides.Eachgamewascomprised

ofacircular,uprightplayingsurfaceayardhigh,nearlytwofeetwide,andahalffootdeep.Underaglasscover,bumpersandmetalflippersjuttedoutfromacolorfulbackground;whentheplayerinsertedacoin,smallmetalballsdroppedfromthetop,bangingpinball-likeagainstthearmsandfallingthisway

andthat.Theplayerspunaknobinthelowerrightinanefforttoseethateachballreachedthebottom;themoreballsthatwerecollectedintheslot,themoreticketstheplayerwon.Whentheplayercollectedenoughtickets,hetookthemtothefrontoftheparlorwherehewasgivenhischoiceofstuffedanimals.Thoughgamblingwas

illegalinJapan,itwasnotagainstthelawforaplayerto

selltheanimalhe’dwon.Thiswasdoneinasmallroomintheback,smallbearsearningtwentythousandyen,largerabbitsfetchingtwicethat,andstuffedtigerssellingforsixtythousandyen.Theaverageplayerspent

fivethousandyenanighthere,andthereweretypicallytwohundredplayersattheparlor’ssixtymachines.Whiletheyenjoyedwinning,fewmencameheretoturna

profit.Therewassomethingaddictiveaboutthewaytheballspouredthroughtheirregularmaze,aboutthesuspenseofluckgoingforyouoragainstyou.Itwasreallytheplayeragainstfate,determiningwherehestoodintheeyesofthegods.Therewasawidespreadbeliefthatifonecouldchangetheirluckhere,itwouldchangeintherealworldaswell.Noonecouldexplainwhythiswas,

butmoreoftenthannotitseemedtowork.Theparlorswerescattered

throughouttheJapaneseislands.Somewererunbylegitimatefamilies,whoseownershipwentbackcenturies.Otherswerethepropertyofcriminalorganizations,principallytheYakuzaandtheSanzoku—onealeagueofgangsters,theotheranancientclanofbandits.

TheparlorinNagatoonthewestcoastofHonshubelongedtotheindependentTsuburayafamily,whichhadrunitanditspredecessorsforovertwocenturies.Thecriminalgroupsmaderegular,respectfuloverturestobuytheparlor,buttheTsuburayashadnointerestinselling.TheyusedtheirearningstosetupbusinessesinNorthKorea,potentiallylucrativetoeholdsthattheyhopedto

expandwheneverunificationbecameareality.Twiceaweek,onTuesdays

andFridays,EijiTsuburayasentmillionsofyentoNorthKoreathroughtwotrustedcouriersbasedintheSouth.Bothmenarrivedonthelateafternoonferry,carryingtwoempty,nondescriptsuitcases,walkeddirectlytothebackroomoftheparlor,leftwithfullones,andwerebackontheferrybeforeitturned

aboutandleftforthe150-miletriptoPusan.Fromthere,themoneywassmugglednorthbymembersofPUK—PatriotsforaUnifiedKorea,agroupcomprisedofpeoplefromboththeNorthandtheSouth,everyonefrombusinessmentocustomsagentstostreetcleaners.ItwastheirbeliefthatprofitforentrepreneursandgreaterprosperityfortheNorthKoreanpublicin

generalwouldforcetheCommunistleaderstoacceptanopenmarketand,ultimately,reunification.Asalways,themenleftthe

parlor,climbedintothewaitingcab,andsatquietlyfortheten-minuteridetotheferry.Unlikeotherdays,however,thistimetheywerefollowed.

ELEVENTuesday,6:15P.M.,Seoul

KimHwansawDonaldsittingonacurb,hisforeheadinhishands,hisjacketandpantscoveredwithblood.“Gregory!”heshoutedas

hejoggedover.Donaldlookedup.There

wastear-streakedbloodonhischeeksandinhisdisheveledsilverhair.He

triedtorisebuthislegsshookandhefellback;Hwancaughthimandhuggedhimtightlyashesatdown.TheagentpulledawayjustlongenoughtomakesurenoneofthebloodwasDonald’s,thenembracedhimagain.Donald’swordswere

swallowedbyhissobs.Hisbreathwascomingingasps.“Don’tsayanything,”

Hwansaidsoftly.“Myassistanttoldme.”

Donalddidn’tseemtohearhim.“She...shewasa...blameless...soul.”“Shewas.Godwillcare

forher.”“Kim...Heshouldn’t

haveher...Ishould.Sheshouldbehere....”Hwanfoughtbacktearsof

hisownashepressedhischeektoDonald’shead.“Iknow.”“Whodidshe...offend?

Therewas...noevilinher.I

don’tunderstand.”HepressedhisfaceintoHwan’sbreast.“Iwantherback,Kim...Iwant...her....”Hwansawamedicturn

towardthemandmotionedhimover.StillholdingDonald,Hwanroseslowly.“Donald,Iwantyoutodo

meafavor.Iwantyoutogowithsomeone.Letthemmakesureyou’reallright.”Themedicputahandon

Donald’sarmbuthewrested

itaway.“IwanttoseeSoonji.

Wherehavetheytaken...mywife?”Hwanlookedatthemedic,

whopointedtowardamovietheater.Therewerebodybagsonthefloor,andmorewerebeingcarriedin.“She’sbeingcaredfor,

Gregory,andyouneedcareyourself.Youmayhaveinjuries.”“I’mallright.”

“Sir,”themedicsaidtoHwan,“thereareothers—”“Ofcourse,I’msorry.

Thankyou.”Themedichurriedoffand

Hwantookastepback.HoldingDonaldbytheshoulders,helookedintothedarkeyes,alwayssofulloflovebutnowredandglazedwithpain.Hewouldn’tforcehimtogotothehospital,butleavinghimhere,alone,wasnotanoption.

“Gregory,wouldyoudomeafavor?”Donaldwasstaringthrough

Hwan,weepingagain.“Ineedhelpwiththiscase.

Wouldyoucomewithme?”Donaldlookedathim.“I

wanttostaywithSoonji.”“Gregory—”“Iloveher.She...needs

me.”“No,”Hwansaidsoftly.

“Youcandonothingforher.”HeturnedDonaldaroundand

pointedtothetheaterablockaway.“Youdon’tbelongthere,youbelongwiththoseofusyoucanhelp.Comewithme.Helpmetofindthepeoplewhodidthis.”Donaldblinkedseveral

times,thenabsentlypattedhispockets.HwanreachedintoDonald’spocket.“Isthiswhatyouwant?”he

asked,handinghimhispipe.Donaldtookit,his

movementsawkwardand

halting,andHwanhelpedhimputitinhismouth.Whenhedidn’treachforhistobacco,Hwantookhimbytheelbowandwalkedhimaway,throughthesettlingdustandincreasingactivityinthesquare.

TWELVETuesday,5:15

A.M.,theWhiteHouse

TheWhiteHouseSituationRoomwaslocatedonthefirstsublevel,directlybelowtheOvalOffice.Therewasalong,rectangularmahoganytableinthecenterofthebrightlylitroom;therewasaSTU-3andacomputer

monitorateachstation,withslide-outkeyboardsunderneath.Likeallgovernmentcomputers,thecomputersetupwasself-contained;softwarefromoutside,evenfromtheDepartmentofDefenseorStateDepartment,wasdebuggedbeforeitwasallowedintothesystem.Onthewallsweredetailed

mapsshowingthelocationofU.S.andforeigntroops,as

wellasflagsdenotingtroublespots:redforongoingandgreenforlatent.TherewasalreadyaredflaginSeoul.PaulHoodhadarrivedat

thewestgateoftheWhiteHouseand,afterpassingthroughametaldetector,tooktheelevatordownonefloor.Whenthedooropened,hisIDwascheckedbyaMarinesentry,whoescortedhimtoasmalltablethatsatbesideadoorwithnohandle.Hood

pressedhisthumblightlyonasmallscreenthatsatonthetable:amomentlatertherewasabuzzandthedoorpoppedopen.Hoodentered,walkingpastaguardwhohadcheckedhisthumbprintagainsttheprintonfileinthecomputer;ifthetwohadn’tmatched,thedoorwouldnothavebeenopened.OnlythePresident,theVicePresident,andtheSecretaryofStatewerenotsubjecttothis

securitycheck.ThedoortotheSituation

Roomwasopen,andHoodwalkedin.Fourotherofficialswerealreadythere:SecretaryofStateAvLincoln,DefenseSecretaryErnestoColon,ChairmanoftheJointChiefsofStaffMelvinParker,andCIADirectorGregKiddweretalkinginacorner,awayfromthedoor;apairofsecretariessatatasmall

cornertable.Onewastheretotakenotes,incode,inaPowerbook,theothertobringupanydataonthecomputerthatmightbecalledfor.AMarinewasputtingoutcoffeebutlers,pitchersofwater,andcups.Themenacknowledged

Hoodwithnodsandsalutes;onlyLincolnwalkedoverassoonasHoodentered.Hestoodjustundersixfeet,powerfullyhewn,witha

roundfaceandthinningwidow’speak.AformerMajorLeaguepitcherandHallofFamer,hemovedfromthebaseballdiamondtotheMinnesotastatelegislaturetoCongressquickerthanhisblindingfastballs.HewasthefirstpoliticiantogetbehindthecandidacyofGovernorMichaelLawrence,andtheStateDepartmentwashisreward;mostagreedhe

lackedthediplomaticskillsthejobrequired,lovedtotreattheobviouslikearevelation.ButLawrencewasnothingifnotloyal.“How’veyoubeen?”

Lincolnasked,extendinghishand.“Passingfair,Av.”“Thatwasagoodjobyour

peopledidatIndependenceHallontheFourth.Veryimpressive.”“Thanks,butit’snever

reallyagoodjobwhenhostagesarehurt.”Lincolnwavedahandwith

disgust.“Noonewaskilled.That’swhatmatters.Hell,whenyou’vegottocoordinateeffortsbetweenlocalpolice,theFBI,andyourownStrikerpersonnel,withthemedialookingoveryourshoulder,that’sagoddamnmiracle.”Hepouredhimselfacupofcoffee.“It’slikethis

situation,Paul.AlreadyonTV,expertsflappingtheirlipsinthemedia—there’llbeopinionpollsbeforebreakfasttellinguswhyseventy-sevenpercentoftheAmericanpublicdoesn’tthinkweshouldevenbeinKoreaoranywhereelse.”Hoodlookedathiswatch.“Burkowrangdown,said

theywererunninglate,”Lincolnsaid.“ThePresident’sonthephonewith

AmbassadorHall.Hedoesn’twantAmericansmovingintoorbeingturnedawayfromtheEmbassyunlessheokaysit,oranystatementsoractionsthatshowanykindofpanic.”“Ofcourse.”“Youknowit’seasyfor

thesethingstobecomeselffulfillingprophesies.”Hoodnodded.“Anyword

yetonwhodidit?”“None.Everyone’s

condemnedit,includingtheNorthKoreans.Butthegovernmentdoesn’ttalkfortheextremehard-liners,sowhoknows?”TheDefenseSecretarysaid

fromacrosstheroom,“TheNorthKoreansalwayscondemnterrorism,eventheirown.WhentheyshotdownthatstrayKALjet,theycondemneditevenastheywerecombingthewreckageforspycameras.”

“Andtheyfoundthem,”Lincolnsaidbehindhishandashewanderedbacktowardtheothers.Hoodreflectedonthe

shoot-firstpolicyoftheNorthKoreansashepouredhimselfcoffee.ThelasttimehewasherewaswhentheRussiansshotdownaLithuanianspyplaneandthePresidentdecidednottopressthemhardonit.HewouldneverforgetthewayLincoln

literallystoodupandsaid,“Whatdoyouthinkworldleaderswouldsayifweevershotdownaforeignaircraft?We’dbecrucified!”Hewasright.Forsome

reason,therulesweredifferentfortheU.S.Hoodtookaseatatthe

northwestsideofthetable,asfarfromthePresidentaspossible.Helikedtowatchastheothersjockeyedforauthority,andthiswasthe

bestseatinthehouse.Op-Center’sStaffPsychologist,LizGordon,hadtoldhimwhattolookforinbodylanguage:handsfoldedonthetablewassubmissive,sittingerectshowedconfidencewhilesittingforwardwasinsecurity—“Lookatme,lookatme!”—andtheheadangledwaspatronizing.“It’slikeafightershowingyouhischin,”shesaid,“daringyoutohititbecausehethinksyou

can’t.”Nosoonerhadhesatdown

thanHoodheardtheoutsidedoorpopopen,followedbytheresonantvoiceofthePresidentoftheUnitedStates.Duringthecampaigntwoyearsbefore,onecolumnisthadsaidthatthatvoicewaswhatwonoverthecrucialundecideds:itseemedtostartfromsomewherearoundtheknees,andbythetimeitreachedhismouthit

wasfullofOlympiangrandeurandpower.That,plushissix-foot-four-inchheight,madehimlookandsoundpresidential,thoughhehadspentalotofthatcapitalexplainingtwoforeignpolicyfiascos.ThefirstwassendingfoodandarmstoBhutaneserebelsopposinganoppressiveregime,arevoltthatendedwiththousandsofarrestsandexecutionsandlefttheregimestrongerthanever.The

secondwaskidglovingaborderdisputebetweenRussiaandLithuania,whichendedwithMoscownotonlytakinglandfromthesmallrepublicbutplacingsoldiersthereaswell.ThatforcedamassiveexodustothecityofKaunas,whichresultedinfoodriotsandhundredsofdeaths.HiscredibilityinEurope

wasdamaged,hiscloutontheHillwashobbled,andhe

couldn’taffordanothermisstep—especiallywithalongtimeally.NationalSecurityAdviser

BurkowdideverythingbutpulloutthePresident’schairforhimastheywalkedin.Hepouredcoffeeforthembothastheysatdown,thePresidentspeakingevenbeforeeveryoneelsewasseated.“Gentlemen,”hesaid,“as

youknow,anhourandfifteen

minutesagoasoundtruckexplodedinfrontofKyongbokPalaceinSeoul.Severaldozenspectatorsandpoliticianswerekilled,andsofartheKCIAhasn’taclueastowho,what,andwhy.Therewasnoadvancewarning,andnoone’scalledtotakecredit.AmbassadorHallhasmadenorequestotherthanthatwereiterateoursupportforthegovernmentandpeopleofSouthKorea,andIhave

authorizedPressSecretaryTracytodojustthat.AmbassadorHallwillimmediatelyissueastatementcondemningtheactingeneral.”Hesatback.“Ernie,intheeventthatitisNorthKorea,ourstandardoperatingpolicywouldbewhat?”TheDefenseSecretary

turnedtooneofthesecretariesandsaid,“FileNK-AS.”Bythetimeheturnedbacktothetable,the

NORTHKOREA—ALERTSITUATIONfilewasonthescreen.Hefoldedhishands.“Tosummarize,Mr.

President,ourpolicyistogotoDefcon5.WeputourbasesintheSouthandinJapanonHighAlertandbeginflyingovertroopsfromFt.PendletonandFt.Ord.IfintelligencepicksupanysignthatKoreantroopsaremobilizing,wegoimmediatelytoDefcon4and

startmovinginourshipsfromtheIndianOcean,sotheRapidDeploymentForceswillbeinposition.IftheNorthKoreansmatchourmovementswithfurtherdeploymentsoftheirown,thedominosfallfastandwemovequicklythroughtheaccelerateddeploymentofDefcon3,2,and1.”HeglancedatthescreenandtouchedhisfingertothechapterheadingWAR

GAMES.“Whenwereachthepointofnoreturn,wehavethreepossiblescenarios.”Hoodlookedfromfaceto

face.Everyonewascalm,saveforLincolnwhowasleaningforwardandtappinghisrightfootquickly.Thiswashiskindofsituation,hiskindofbigstickresponse.AttheoppositeendofthespectrumwasChairmanoftheJointChiefsofStaff

MelvinParker.Hisfaceandpostureweresubdued,likeErnieColon’s.Insituationslikethese,itwasneverthemilitarymenwhoadvocatedforce.Theyunderstoodthepriceofevenasuccessfuloperation.Itwasalwaysthepoliticiansandappointeeswhowerefrustratedorimpatientandwantedtogetthemselvesavictory,howeverquickanddirty.TheSecretaryofDefense

pulledonreadingglassesandstudiedthemonitor.HeranhisfingerdownthemenuandandtouchedthescreenwhereitsaidDEFENSEWHITEPAPERUPDATE.“Ifthere’sawarandthe

U.S.assumesasupportroleonly,SouthKoreafallstotheNorthinamatteroftwoorthreeweeks.YoucanseethematchupbetweentheNorthandROKAforyourself.”Hoodstudiedthefigures.

TheylookedasbadfortheRepublicofKoreaArmyasColonhadsaid.

MilitaryBalanceoftheNorthandSouthisas

follows:

Afterafewseconds,ColonbroughtupthemenuagainandtouchedU.S.8TH

ARMYUPDATE.“Thesecondscenariohas

ourforcesintheSouthbecominginvolved.Eventhen,theoddsarenotinourfavor.”Hoodlookedatthenew

screen.

UnitedStatesForcesinSouthKorea,Numberof

Personnel

“TheonlyvalueofusjoiningtheSouthKoreansonthebattlefieldisthedeterrentfactor:doesNorthKoreareallywantawarwiththeUnitedStates?”CIADirectorKiddasked,

“Isn’tthatsamedeterrentpresentifwe’reinastrictly

supportmode?”“Unfortunately,no.If

Pyongyangthinkswehaven’tgotthebellyforascrap,he’llpushtoSeoulthesamewayBaghdadwentafterKuwaitwhentheythoughtwe’dsitonthesidelines.”“Andwasn’thesurprised,”

Lincolnmuttered.ThePresidentsaid

impatiently,“Andthethirdscenarioisapreemptivestrike?”

“Right,”Colonsaid.“WeandtheSouthKoreanstogethertakeoutcommunicationscenters,supplylines,andnuclearreprocessingplantswithconventionalweapons.Ifthewargamessimulationsarecorrect,theNorthKoreansgotothenegotiatingtable.”“Whywouldn’ttheyturn

toChinaandretaliate?”askedCIADirectorKidd.JointChiefsofStaff

ChairmanParkersaid,“Becausetheyknowthatsincetheaidcutbacksof1968,andtheinabilitysince1970ofthetwelveROKandtwoU.S.divisionstosuccessfullystaveoffanattack,ourdefenseplanshavebeenkeyedalmostentirelytotheearlyuseofnuclearweapons.”“Didweleakthat

information?”thePresidentasked.

“No,sir.Theyreaditinmilitaryjournals.Christ,in1974,TimeorRollingStoneorsomeonewhohatedNixondidanarticleonournuclearplansforKorea.”Kiddleanedback.“That

stilldoesn’tgiveusanykindofassurancetheywon’tturntoChina,andthatBeijingwon’tsupportthemwithnuclearweapons.”“Wejustdon’tseethatas

happening.”Colonwentto

themenuandtouchedtheheadingCHINAOPTION.“Mel,theCONEXgamesareyourarea—”“Right.”Despitethe

comfortableair-conditioningintheroom,thediminutiveChairmanoftheJointChiefswasperspiring.“WeranaConflictExerciseofascenariosimilartothisawhileback,afterJimmyCarterwenttoNorthKoreaforhislittlechatwithKimIl

Sung.GiventhemilitarysituationinChinaandpsychologicalprofilesofitsleaders—whichyourpeopleprovided,Paul—wefoundthatifweloosenedrestrictionsonbusinessinvestmentsinChina,andconcurrentlyauthorizedtheshipmentofarmstoanti-ChinesefactionsinNepalthroughIndia,theChinesewouldbeunlikelytobecomeinvolved.”

“Howunlikely?”thePresidentasked.“Eighty-sevenpercent

chanceofsittingonthesidelines.”“Wecameupwitha

slightlydifferentpercentageinourownSAGAsimulations,”Colonsaid,“aboutseventypercent.ButtheStudies,Analysis,andGamingAgencydidn’thaveup-to-datepsychprofiles,soI’minclinedtogowithMel’s

findings.”ThoughHoodwaslistening

intently,hisexpressionimpassive,hefoundhimselfsomewhatanxiousaboutLiz’sfindings.HehadagreatdealofrespectforhisStaffPsychologist,justasheheldhisOperationsSupportOfficerMattStollinhighregard.Butheputcomputeranalysesandpsychologyintheplaceandshowslots,respectively,aftergoodold-

fashionedintuition.HisPressOfficerAnnFarrisjokedthathenevermetagutfeelinghedidn’tlike,andshewasright.ThePresidentglancedat

theclockonthebottomofthemonitor,thensteepledhishands.Colonmotionedtothesecretarytoclearthescreen,andHoodwatchedasscreensavermissilesflewleftandrightacrossthemonitor.“Gentlemen,”thePresident

saidafteralongsilence,“I

wouldlikeallofyoutoserveontheKoreanTaskForcefortheduration,andPaul”—helookedsquarelyatHood—“Iwantyoutoheaditup.”HecaughttheOp-Center

Directoroff-guard-aswellaseveryoneelseintheroom.“You’llbringmean

OptionsPaperinfourhours.Barringfurtheractsofterrorismoraggression,you’llproceedundertheassumptionthattherewillbe

somelevelofgraduateddeploymentbutnomilitaryactionforthefirsttwenty-fourhours.ThatshouldgiveyourpeopleandtherestoftheTaskForcetimetoevaluateintelligenceandwritemeanaddendum.”ThePresidentrose.“Thankyouall.Av—meetmeintheOvalOfficeatsixsowecandiscussthesituationwithourallies.Ernie,Mel—we’llbriefthecabinetandmembersof

theArmedServicesCommitteeatseven.And,Paul,I’llseeyouatnine-thirty.”ThePresidentleft,trailed

bytheSecretaryofDefenseandtheChairmanoftheJointChiefsofStaff.AvLincolnwalkedovertoHood.“Congratulations,Paul.I

senseanass-kicking.”Heleanedclose.“Justmakesureitisn’tyourassthatgetskicked.”

Hewasright.ThePresidenthadnevergivenOp-Centeraforeigncrisis,anddoingsonowmeantthatheintendedtostrikehardanddecisively,ifgiventhechance.Shouldanythinggowrong,hecouldpinitonthenewkidsontheblock,shutdowntheagency,andsufferonlyminimalpoliticaldamage.ThenHoodcouldtakealow-payingpositionattheCarterCenterorthe

UnitedStatesInstituteofPeace,aconverttopacifism,areformedsinnertrottedoutforpublicscourgingsatdinnersandsymposia.Avgavehimathumbs-up

asheleft,andaftercollectinghisthoughts,Hoodfollowedhimtotheelevator.Inadditiontohavingtotakethefallforanyfailure,Hoodwasn’tkeenonhavingtospendthenextfourhoursplayingringmastertoa

bureaucraticturfwarasheteleconferencedwitheveryonewhohadbeeninattendance,formulatingacohesivestrategyfromsixpeoplewithsixverydifferentagendas.Itwaspartofthejob,andhediditwell,buthehatedthewaypeopledidwhatwasbestforpartyandagencyfirstandsecond,andforthecountryadistantthird.Still,therewasthebright

sidetolookat,thechance

thathemightjustpullallthisoff.Andashecontemplatedthat,theadrenalinebegantoflow.IfthePresidentwaswillingtotakeriskswithOp-Center,HoodhadtobewillingtotakegreaterriskstomakesurethatOp-Centerearneditsinternationalcredentialsonceandforall.Likeoneofhisheroes,BabeRuth,whenyougotyourturnatbatyouswungforthehomerun,notthedouble,and

youdidn’tthinkaboutstrikingout.Evenif,liketheBabe,youdidthatsixtypercentofthetimeyousteppedtotheplate....

THIRTEENTuesday,5:25

A.M.,QuanticoMarineCorpsAir

Station,VAThebattlewaslongand

hard-fought,bodiesfallingeverywhere,facestwistinginanguish,commandsandcriesshatteringtheearlymorningsilence.“They’resuchassholes,”

MelissaSquiressaidtotheotherwivesaroundthepicnictable.Shetappedthebackofherhusband’spager.“You’dthinktheycouldjusthavefunwiththis.”“Thekidsare,”saidone

woman,wincingasshewatchedherdaughterfallfromherfather’sshouldersinthemiddleofthein-groundpool.“Oooh...that’llleaveDavidinabadmoodtoday.HeandVeronicawereout

thereatfourforty-fivepracticingtheirmoves.”Theeightwomenwatched

andpickedatthebacon,eggs,andmuffinsthatwerefastbecomingcold.Thedailypoolwarhadrunover,buttheyknewbetterthantocalltheirhusbandstothetablebeforeitwasthrough.They’donlygetpissedoff,andtheywouldn’tcomeanyway:notwiththeirhonoratstake.Therewerejusttwo

chickenfightersleft:leanLt.Col.CharlieSquiresandhisspindlysonBillyandpumpedPrivateDavidGeorgeandhissonClark.Thekidspushedhairfromtheireyesastheirfatherscircledeachotherslowly,eachwatchingforanopening,forakidwholosthisbalance,madeaclumsyoffensivemaneuver,shiveredandbrokehisconcentration.Sgt.Grey’swifeLydia

said,“Lastweek,whenwe

werevisitingmyfolksinAlaska,ChickandIgotstuckinasnowbankandherefusedtocallforatow.Hetoldmetoputthecarinneutral,thenhegotbehindandlifteditout.Hewalkedbentoverfortwodaysafter,buthewouldn’tadmithewassore.NotHercules.”Therewasashoutfromthe

poolasClarklungedatBilly.Insteadofsteppingback,asheusuallydid,Lt.Col.

Squiresmovedin:whileClarkwasleaningforward,Billygrabbedhisoutstretchedarm,pulleddown,andtheboyfloppedback-firstintothewater.PrivateGeorgestoodthere,aghast,ashelookedfromhissontoSquires.Therewasasmatteringapplausefromthesideofthepool,wheretheotherdefeatedchickenfightershadbeenwatchingtheshowdown.

“That’sit,sir?”GeorgesaidtoSquires.“Lor-dee,thatwasshorterthanthefirstClay-Listonfight.”“Sorry,Sonny,”Squires

winked.Hereachedupandhigh-fivedhisson.“Andwhendidyouwork

thatoneout,sir?”“Whileweweresuitingup.

Madesense,don’tyouthink?Guyexpectsaretreat,getsanadvance—he’sgottabesurprised.”

“Hewas,sir,”Georgemumbled,wadingtowardtheshallowendofthepool,hissoninhiswake.“Nicefight,”Clarksaidto

Billyashedog-paddledafterhisfather.“Don’ttalklikethat,”

GeorgemutteredashelumberedupthestepswiththebearinganddispositionofGorgo.“You’llloseyouredgefortomorrow.”Squiresfollowedhimout,

hiseyesdrawntoheadlightsshiningthroughtheliving-roomwindowofhishomeinthebasefamilyquarters.Hesnatchedatowelfromachaiseloungeasthelightssnappedoff,thenwatchedasalonefigurewalkedaroundtheone-storycottage,silhouettedbythelightbluehorizon.Noonecouldhavegottentothisquarterwithoutpassingthroughthegatethatseparatedhiscrewfromthe

FBIAcademy,andnoonecouldhavegottenthroughthegatewithoutacalltohimdirectly.UnlesstheywerefromOp-

Center.Drapingthetoweloverhis

shouldersandslippingonhissandals,theLieutenantColonelwalkedquicklytowardthehouse.“Charlie,youreggsare

gettingcold!”“Berightthere,Missy.Set

’emnexttoGeorge,they’llstaywarm.”Squires’sStrikerteamof

twelvefull-timemenandtheirsupportcrewswasestablishedsixmonthsbefore,thesametimeasOp-Center.Theyweretheso-called“black”sideoftheagency,theirexistenceasecretfromoutsidersexceptthosewhoneededtoknow:theheadsoftheothermilitaryandspyagencies,andthe

PresidentandVicePresidentthemselves.Theircharterwassimple:theyweresentontothefieldwhenoffensewasneeded.Theywereanelitesquadthatcouldbecountedontostrikehardandfast.ThoughalltheStrikermembersbelongedtothemilitaryanddrewpayfromtheirrespectivebranches,theyworkedinnondescriptcamouflagepantsandshirtswithoutmarkingsofanykind.

Iftheyscrewedup,therewasnowayforanyonetotracethem...orplaceblame.SquiressmiledasMike

Rodgerscamearoundthesideofthebuilding.Thetallman’sarchednose—brokenfourtimesincollegebasketball—high,intelligentforehead,andlightbrowneyesthatseemedalmostgoldenwereawelcomesight.“IhopeI’mgladtosee

you,”Squiressaid,saluting

thetwo-starGeneral.WhenRodgersreturnedthesalute,themenshookhands.“Thatdependsonwhether

ornotyouweregettingbored.”“DoesdietCokefizz?Yes,

sir,we’rereadyforaction.”“Good.BecauseIradioed

thechopper:getonethroughelevenreadyandhaveKrebsbringanextragrip.Weleaveinfiveminutes.”Squiresknewnottoask

wheretoorwhyonlyelevenmeninsteadofthefullDirtyDozenweregoing—notwhiletheywereoutintheopenwheretheirwivesorchildrenmighthear.Innocentremarks,madeoverunsecuredlinestofriendsorrelatives,couldbedisastrous.HealsoknewnottoaskaboutthesmallblackbagRodgerscarried,orwhytherewasasewn-ondesignofwhatlookedlikeaweedgrowingoutofconcrete.

WhenandiftheGeneralwantedtotellhimaboutit,hewould.Instead,Squiressaid,“Yes,

sir,”salutedagain,andjoggedbacktothepicnictable.Thedozenothermenwerealreadyontheirfeetandreadytogo,thehostilitiesanddisappointmentsofthemorning’ssportquicklyforgotten.AfterawordwithSquires,

elevenofthetwelvemen

joggedtotheirhomestogettheirgear,noneofthemstoppingtosaygood-byetotheirwivesorchildren:asadfaceortearyeyemightcometothemwhentheywerecalledontorisktheirlives,causethemtohesitate.Itwasbettertoleavecoldandmakeuplater.Theonemanwhohadn’tbeenpickedsatandhunkereddownoverhispaperplate:thiswasnotPrivateGeorge’smorning.

Likeeachman,Squireskepthisgriphandyandwithinfourminutestheywererunningacrossthefieldbeyondthefence,towardtheBellJetrangerthatwasbeingfiredupforthehalf-hourridetoAndrewsAirForceBase.

FOURTEENTuesday,7.30P.M.,Seoul

Thesoundtrucklookedlikeaguttedavocado,blastedpanelspeeledbackbytheforceoftheexplosion,withonlyscrapsandslaginthecenter.Foroveranhour,Kim

Hwan’steamhadpickedoverthosescraps,lookingforanyleads.Thereweretracesof

plasticexplosivesstucktothebottomofwhatusedtobethesoundpanel,andthosehadbeensenttothelaboratoryforanalysis.Otherthanthat,therewasnothing.Nothingbuttheincreasingnumbersofvictimsbeingmovedfromtheranksoftheinjuredtothelistofthedead.Themenontherooftopshadseennothingunusual,oneofthetwovideosurveillancecamerastheyhadplacedonarooftopwas

destroyedbyshrapnel,andtheotherhadbeentrainedonthepodium,notthecrowd.TVcameraswerebeingcollected,theirtapesstudied,toseeiftheyhadrecordedanythingunusual.Hwandoubtedtheywouldhelp,sinceitseemedasthoughallofthemhadbeenfacinginthesamedirection:awayfromthetruck.Andhiscomputerexpertdoubtedthatanyofthemhadcaughta

usefulreflectionofthetruckinawindow,onelargeandcompleteenoughtobeenhancedandstudied.Whileheworked,Gregory

Donaldstoodclosebywithhisbackagainstacharredstreetlight,hisunlitpipestillclenchedinhisteeth.Hehadn’tsaidawordandhadn’tlookedupfromtheground;hewasnolongercryingandhedidn’tseemtobeinshock,thoughHwancouldn’tbegin

toimaginethethoughtsthathadtobegoingthroughhismind.“Sir!”Hwanlookedupashis

assistantChoiUGilcametrottingover.“Rithinkshe’sfound

something.”“Where?”“Inanalleybesidethe

SakongHotel.ShallIradiotheDirector?Heaskedtobetoldeverything.”

Hwansteppeddownfromthechassisoftheexplodedtruck.“Let’swaitandseewhatwe’vegot.I’msurehehashishandsfull.”Explainingthecorner-cuttingtothePresident,nodoubt.HwanfollowedChoi

towardtheNationalMuseumonthesouthernsideofthePalace,surprisedtoseeDonaldwalkingafterthemslowly.Hwandidn’twaitforhim:hewashappythat

somethingwasgettingthroughtohisfriend,andhedidn’twanttoputanypressureonhim.StayingbusywasallthatkeptHwanhimselffromdwellingontheshatteringlosstheyhadsuffered.

Thewide-WripplepatterninthedrydirtbelongedtoaNorthKoreanarmyboot.Therewasnodoubtaboutit.“Professor”Rihadsuspected

asmuch,andHwanhadconfirmedit.“Theyleadawayfromthe

abandonedhotel,”theslight,white-hairedchemistsaid.“I’vesentateaminside,”

ChoitoldHwan.“Theperpetratorsappearto

havedrunkfromthis”—theProfessorpointedtothecrushedandemptywaterbottleonthefloor—“andthenwalkedtowardthesoundtruck.”

Thedirtinthealleywasdry,butthehotairwasstillandtheresiduehadn’tmoved.Hwankneltandstudiedthefourcompleteprintsandtwopartialones.“Haseverythingbeen

photographed?”Hwanasked.Choinodded.“The

footprintsandthebottle.We’rephotographingthehotelbasementnow,asthereseemstohavebeensomeactivitythere.”

“Good.Sendthebottleoverforprints,andalsohavethemcheckthemouthforanykindofresidue—saliva,food,anything.”Theyoungassistantranto

thecar,removedalargeplasticbagandmetaltongsfromacase,andbroughtthemover.Liftingthebottlecarefully,heplaceditinthebagandmarkedthetime,date,andplaceonawhitestripatthetop.Thenhetook

aworkorderformfromthecase,filleditin,putbothitemsinthecase,andclimbedintothewindowwhereamilitarypolicemanstoodguard.Hwancontinuedtostudy

thebootprints,notingthattheimpressionwasn’theavierinfront,whichmeantthattheterroristshadn’tbeenrunning.Hewasalsotryingtodeterminehowmuchweartherehadbeenonthesoles

andwhetherthemarkingsbelongedtoonebootormany.Thereseemedtobeatleasttwodifferentrightfeet,anditstruckhimasoddthatneithershowedanywearintheripples.TheNorthKoreanstendedtoissuenewbootsafterthewinter,whentheytookthemostwear—notduringthesummer.“Ifthebottlewasusedby

theterrorists,youwon’tfindanyfingerprints.”

HwanlookedupatDonald.Thevoicewasabarelyaudiblemonotone;hispipewasunceremoniouslystuffedintohisvestpocketandhisfleshwasthecolorofchalk.Buthewashereandhewasalert,andHwanwashappytoseehim.“No,”Hwansaid.“Idon’t

expectwewill.”“Isthatwhytheydidn’t

takethebottlewiththem?Becausetheyknewit

couldn’tleadyoutothem?”TheProfessorsaid,“One

wouldsoconclude.”Donaldtookafewsteps

intotheshadowydepthsofthealley.Hisarmshunglimpathissidesandhisshoulderswereroundedbeneathhisawfulburden.Watchinghimmovewithsuchpain,Hwanhadneverfeltsohelpless.“Thisalley,soneartothe

hotel,”Donaldsaid.“Iwouldimagineit’spickedcleanby

thepoor.Acleanbottlelikethatwassuretobenoticedinyoursweep—and,seeingit,youwouldalsoseethebootprints.”“Iwasthinkingthat

myself,”Hwansaid.“We’drecognizethepatternandwouldjumptoaconclusionaboutwhowasbehindit.”“Thisispossible.”The

Professorshrugged.“Butit’salsopossiblethataninconsideratejoggerthrewit

thereandtheperpetratorsneverevennoticedit.”“Inwhichcasesomeone’s

fingerprintswillbeonit,”Hwansaid.“Thatiscorrect,”saidthe

Professor.“SoIhadbestgettothematter.I’llseeifthere’sanythingtolookatinthehotel,andthenI’llreturntothelaboratory.”Whenthediminutive

Professorleft,HwanwalkedtoDonald’sside.

“Thankyouforwhatyoudidbackthere,”Donaldsaid,hisvoicetremulous,hiseyesontheground.“Iheardyou,but—Icouldn’tgetagrip.”“Howcouldyou?”“I’mnotsureIhave,even

now.”Tearsspilledfromhiseyesashelookedaroundthealley.Hebreathedheavilyandwipedhiseyeswithhisfingers.“Thisthing,Kim—itisn’ttheirway.They’vealwaysusedincidentsatthe

DMZorassassinationtosendusmessages.”“Iknow.Andthere’s

somethingelse.”BeforeHwancould

continue,ablackMercedeswithdiplomaticplatesscreechedtoastopinfrontofthealley.Aclean-cutyoungmangotoutonthedriver’sside.“Mr.Donald!”Donaldsteppedfromthe

darkness.“I’mGregory

Donald.”Hwanmovedquicklytohis

side.Hedidn’tknowwhoelsemightbeatargettoday,andwastakingnochances.“Sir,”saidtheman,

“there’samessageforyouattheEmbassy.”“From?”“‘Anenemyofthe

Bismarck,’Iwastoldtosay.”“Hood,”hesaidtoHwan.

“Iwasexpectingthat.Maybehehassomeinformation.”

Asthemenapproachedthecar,theyoungEmbassyofficialreacheddownandpoppedtheelectricdoorlock.“Sir,Iwasalsotoldtosee

toMrs.Donald.Isthereanythingsheneeds?Perhapsshe’dliketocomewithus?”Donaldpressedhislips

togetherandshookhishead;thenhiskneesgaveoutandhefellagainstthesideofthecar,hisarmsfoldedbeneathhischest.

“Sir!”“He’llbeallright,”Hwan

said,andwavedfortheyoungmantosit.Heputanarmaroundhisfriend’swaistandhelpedhimup.“Youwillbe,Gregory.”Donaldnoddedashestood.“I’llnotifyyoutherewhen

wecomeupwithsomething.”AsomberHwanopened

thedoorandDonaldslidintothecar.“Domeafavor,Kim?”

“Anything.”“SoonjilovedtheEmbassy

andsheadmiredtheAmbassador.Don’t—don’tlethergothere.Notthewayshewas.I’llphoneGeneralSavran.Wouldyouseethat”—hebreatheddeeply—“thatshegetstothebase?”“Iwill.”Hwanshutthedoorandthe

cardroveoff.Itwasquicklyswallowedbytheconfusionofhonkingcars,buses,and

trucks,thethickeveningrushhourmadeworsebyvehiclesdetouredfromaroundthePalace.“Godbewithyou,

Gregory,”hesaid,thenglancedtowardtheredsun.“Ican’tbewithhim,Soonji,soplease—lookafterhim.”Turning,Hwanwalked

backintothealleyandlookeddownatthefootprints.Theshadowsweremorepronouncednowinthe

slantingraysofthesettingsun.Buttherewasonething

more,anditbotheredhimmorethanthetoo-convenientpresenceofthebottleandbootprints.Aftertellingtheguardat

thebasementwindowtoinformChoithathe’dgonetohisoffice,Hwanhurriedbacktohiscar,wonderingjusthowfarDirectorYung-Hoonwouldbewillingtogoto

breakthiscase....

FIFTEENTuesday,5:55

A.M.,Washington,D.C.

Assoonashewasinhiscar,HoodphonedOp-CenterandtoldhisExecutiveAssistant,Stephen“Bugs”Benet,tostartthecountdownclockattwenty-fourhours.ThatwassomethingLizGordonhadsuggested:

studiesshowedthatmostpeopleworkbetterwithdeadlines,somethingtoshootfor.Theclockwasaconstantreminderthatalthoughyouhadtorunamarathon,reallypouriton,therewasanendinsight.Itwasoneofthefew

thingsonwhichHoodandLizagreed.AsBugswastellingHood

thatGregoryDonaldhadbeenlocatedandwasbeing

broughttotheEmbassyonSejongno,justtwoblocksfromthePalace,theDirector’spersonalcellularphonerang.TellingBugshe’dbethereinfifteenminutes,Hoodhungupandansweredthephone.“Paul,it’sme.”Sharon.Heheardapingin

thebackgroundandmuffledvoices.Shewasn’tathome.“Honey,whatisit?”“It’sAlexander—”

“Isheallright?”“Afteryouleft,hestarted

wheezingworsethanI’veeverheardhim.Thenebulizerwasn’thelping,soIbroughthimtothehospital.”Hoodfelthisownchest

tighten.“Thedoctorshaveinjected

himwithepinephrine,andarewatchinghim,”Sharonsaid.“Idon’twantyoucominghere.I’llcallassoonasweknowsomething.”

“Youshouldn’thavetodothisalone,Sharon.”“I’mnotalone—Iknow

that.Andwhatwouldyoudohere?”“Holdyourhand.”“HoldthePresident’shand,

I’llbefine.Look,IwanttocallHarleighandmakesureshe’sallright.IthinkIscaredheroutofayear’sgrowthwhenIwentrunningthroughthehousecarryingAlex.”“Promiseyou’llbeepthe

minuteanythinghappens.”“Ipromise.”“AndtellthembothIlove

them.”“Ialwaysdo.”Hoodfeltlikehellashe

drovethroughtheearlymorningtraffictoAndrewsAirForceBase,homeofOp-Center.Sharonhadhadtoshoulderalotinseventeenyearsofmarriage,butthiswasthecapper.Hecouldhearthefearinher

voice,thetraceofbitternessinherremarkaboutthePresident,andhewantedtogotoher.Butheknewthatifhedid,shewouldonlyfeelguiltyforhavingpulledhimaway.Andwhenshefeltlikethatshegotangryatherself,whichwa