Crucial Intercept. Don Pendleton

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СКАЧАТЬ smiling his sickly, lopsided smile. He put his phone to his ear after redialing the number with a single press of his thumb. Yoon heard him and the American government man, the traitor James Tatro, exchanging meaningless pleasantries.

      Yoon wondered if Tatro had the slightest idea just with whom he was in bed. North Korea was considered, laughably, a “rogue nation” among the Americans, though of course they would propagate such misinformation in their efforts to bully the leader’s people into submission. But the Americans, on the whole, especially those in their government, were curiously squeamish about violence. They would drop bombs on smaller countries from thousands of feet in the air, but the idea of actual blood flowing through their own fingers revolted them. Such was the stuff of Kim’s most pleasant dreams. If only this Tatro knew with whom he dealt, he would understand that he had truly signed a deal with someone he should consider a devil.

      Kim’s family disgrace had started with a few easily covered-up murders. They had been servants, for the most part, and the occasional party or factory worker. Some had been transients. A few had been prostitutes, despite the leader’s best efforts to eradicate such practices from the streets of his nation’s fair cities. Kim had a sickness, one that drove him to need to kill as regularly as some men ate a heavy meal. The longer he went without indulging his impulses, the worse the expression of those dark inner desires was when it finally came to fruition. Forced by his family to give up his depredations, Kim had lived in what for him most surely had been agony, spending several months locked away in his family’s state-designated dwelling in Pyongyang.

      When he finally escaped, he killed the person sent to guard him, an older cousin from his own family. Then he had escaped and murdered several families living in the public housing a few blocks away. It had been very, very difficult to cover up the evidence of those murders, to expunge all trace of those family’s many relatives and their connections to North Korean society in Pyongyang. Many threats had been made. Many citizens had been sworn to silence. Still many more had simply disappeared. It was not long after that, Yoon knew, that Kim had been consigned to this mission, a disgrace both to his family and to his work within military intelligence. He was an expendable, vicious animal who, once he served his purpose, would be put down like the rabid dog he was.

      Yoon looked forward to that much of the mission.

      “You have not informed us of something,” Kim finally said into the phone. Yoon could hear the other end of the line almost as clearly as Kim. The dangerous Korean had the volume of his phone set as high as it would go, the result of hearing loss in his good ear caused by a firearms “accident” when he was a teenager.

      “I don’t understand,” the government man replied. Tatro’s reedy voice grated on Yoon’s already frayed nerves.

      “You have not told us of all we face in our mission,” Kim said flatly, his tone hinting at deadly reprisals.

      “But I have,” Tatro insisted. “I gave you full information on the size of the Iranian team and on the equipment I helped them smuggle in. The French team was delayed this morning when one of their trucks broke down, my spotters tell me, but they’re well on their way to you if they’re not there already. The Jews are around somewhere. That’s all.”

      “There is another. A lone American. Big. Dark hair. Well armed. Very dangerous. The idiot Iranians spotted him on their trail and tried to kill him. Who is he?”

      “I don’t have any information about a single operator,” Tatro whined.

      “You have been paid a very, very large sum of money, American,” Kim threatened. “You were promised much more when we secured this fool whom you have so readily sold us. Do you think you can betray us now? With a single phone call, I can ruin you. I can see to it that your countrymen lock you away for the rest of your miserable life…or I can find you myself and see to it that you suffer for the very short span of whatever brief life I allow you to have.”

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