“we” and “they” was no accident, as Shafer and Exley well knew.
“Want to switch sides again?” Shafer said.
“I’m not so sure they’d have me, Ellis.”
“Anyway, where would you ride your bike?” Exley said.
“Children,” Shafer said. “Focus, please.”
“Fair enough,” Wells said. He stepped closer to the screen. “Can you scroll farther down?”
“This set doesn’t run any farther south. We get another pass tomorrow.”
“Magnify it. The southern edge.” Wells looked at Exley. “See what they did at the base of the valley? Just left of where the trail ends.”
“Those branches?”
“See how they’re arranged? They look like they’re part of the forest, but they’re not. They’re thicker.”
Slowly, Exley recognized the hidden shapes under the branches. “Trucks?”
“Pickups, at least four. Toyotas most likely. All with fifty-cals. When I was with them, they never would have bothered to hide them.”
“Which means—”
“It doesn’t prove anything,” Wells said. “But yeah, it’s evidence they’re getting lessons.” He looked at Exley. “Well done, Jenny. Though I have to admit I don’t get it. Who would be crazy enough to help the Taliban right now?”
“What do you think we should tell Bagram?” Bagram Air Base, north of Kabul, the headquarters of the American military command in Afghanistan.
“They’ve got to hit it,” Wells said. “Find out if it’s real. Though it’s gonna be tough. Whoever’s up there can enfilade anyone coming up that trail something vicious. And I’ll bet they’ve got heavy stuff in those caves. Mortars, RPGs, some SAMs”—rocket-propelled grenades and surface-to-air missiles.
“You want to go? Summer vacation in Afghanistan? For old times’ sake?”
Shafer had asked the question, but Wells looked at Exley instead. She hated to see the eagerness in Wells’s face. He looked like a hound that had just sniffed out a fox. Did killing thrill him so much? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer. Anyway this mission was what she’d told Shafer she wanted for Wells. Something that would test him, get him out of his funk.
“Go for it, John.” Anything beats the bike, she thought.
“If the guys at Bagram will have me, I’ll think about it.”
“It may take a few days to put together, but you’re right,” Shafer said. “We have to hit it. And they’ll have you.”
Shafer’s phone trilled. Shafer held a finger to his lips, warning Exley and Wells to stay quiet, and picked up. “Hello, Mr. Tyson.” George Tyson was deputy director for counterintelligence, the man in charge of making sure that foreign intelligence services didn’t infiltrate the CIA.
“When? Where? Tomorrow would be better . . . No ... if it’s urgent, okay. We’ll see you there. Yes. We. Me and the two musketeers.”
He cradled the phone. “Strange. Tyson wants to talk to us tonight. Not here. Says something’s happening in Korea.”
5
BETRAYED. THE WORD RANG IN BECK’S MIND as he opened the Phantom’s hatch and hurled the transponder as far as he could into the foaming water. Betrayed. He threw Sung against the side of the cabin. Betrayed. He drove his right fist into Sung’s soft belly until the North Korean’s mouth flopped open and his legs went flaccid. Sung slid to the floor, gasping, wordlessly begging for oxygen.
“Ask him,” Beck said to Kang. “Ask him why he’s killing us.” Beck was even more furious with himself than with Sung. He should have checked the bag as soon as Sung got on board. But he simply hadn’t imagined that Sung would destroy his own chance for escape.
“If he doesn’t start talking, I’ll put a bullet in him.” Beck drew his pistol. “I will, too. Tell him.”
Kang finished translating. The cabin was silent. Then Sung spoke, the words coming in broken spurts.
“He says the security services have his family. Wife, parents, children, cousins. They’ll all die if he doesn’t
“Want to switch sides again?” Shafer said.
“I’m not so sure they’d have me, Ellis.”
“Anyway, where would you ride your bike?” Exley said.
“Children,” Shafer said. “Focus, please.”
“Fair enough,” Wells said. He stepped closer to the screen. “Can you scroll farther down?”
“This set doesn’t run any farther south. We get another pass tomorrow.”
“Magnify it. The southern edge.” Wells looked at Exley. “See what they did at the base of the valley? Just left of where the trail ends.”
“Those branches?”
“See how they’re arranged? They look like they’re part of the forest, but they’re not. They’re thicker.”
Slowly, Exley recognized the hidden shapes under the branches. “Trucks?”
“Pickups, at least four. Toyotas most likely. All with fifty-cals. When I was with them, they never would have bothered to hide them.”
“Which means—”
“It doesn’t prove anything,” Wells said. “But yeah, it’s evidence they’re getting lessons.” He looked at Exley. “Well done, Jenny. Though I have to admit I don’t get it. Who would be crazy enough to help the Taliban right now?”
“What do you think we should tell Bagram?” Bagram Air Base, north of Kabul, the headquarters of the American military command in Afghanistan.
“They’ve got to hit it,” Wells said. “Find out if it’s real. Though it’s gonna be tough. Whoever’s up there can enfilade anyone coming up that trail something vicious. And I’ll bet they’ve got heavy stuff in those caves. Mortars, RPGs, some SAMs”—rocket-propelled grenades and surface-to-air missiles.
“You want to go? Summer vacation in Afghanistan? For old times’ sake?”
Shafer had asked the question, but Wells looked at Exley instead. She hated to see the eagerness in Wells’s face. He looked like a hound that had just sniffed out a fox. Did killing thrill him so much? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer. Anyway this mission was what she’d told Shafer she wanted for Wells. Something that would test him, get him out of his funk.
“Go for it, John.” Anything beats the bike, she thought.
“If the guys at Bagram will have me, I’ll think about it.”
“It may take a few days to put together, but you’re right,” Shafer said. “We have to hit it. And they’ll have you.”
Shafer’s phone trilled. Shafer held a finger to his lips, warning Exley and Wells to stay quiet, and picked up. “Hello, Mr. Tyson.” George Tyson was deputy director for counterintelligence, the man in charge of making sure that foreign intelligence services didn’t infiltrate the CIA.
“When? Where? Tomorrow would be better . . . No ... if it’s urgent, okay. We’ll see you there. Yes. We. Me and the two musketeers.”
He cradled the phone. “Strange. Tyson wants to talk to us tonight. Not here. Says something’s happening in Korea.”
5
BETRAYED. THE WORD RANG IN BECK’S MIND as he opened the Phantom’s hatch and hurled the transponder as far as he could into the foaming water. Betrayed. He threw Sung against the side of the cabin. Betrayed. He drove his right fist into Sung’s soft belly until the North Korean’s mouth flopped open and his legs went flaccid. Sung slid to the floor, gasping, wordlessly begging for oxygen.
“Ask him,” Beck said to Kang. “Ask him why he’s killing us.” Beck was even more furious with himself than with Sung. He should have checked the bag as soon as Sung got on board. But he simply hadn’t imagined that Sung would destroy his own chance for escape.
“If he doesn’t start talking, I’ll put a bullet in him.” Beck drew his pistol. “I will, too. Tell him.”
Kang finished translating. The cabin was silent. Then Sung spoke, the words coming in broken spurts.
“He says the security services have his family. Wife, parents, children, cousins. They’ll all die if he doesn’t
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