Point of Contact

“Wait here.” Jack ran up the staircase, calling out Paul’s name. He stumbled over a step in the dark but caught himself. Another lightning flash lit the hallway. Black shoe scuffs all along the walls. Jack ran for Paul’s bedroom, still shouting his name. He dashed inside. The room was trashed.

Paul was gone.

* * *

Lian was in the kitchen, washing her face in the sink, when Jack ran back down. There wasn’t much pressure in the line.

“He’s not upstairs,” Jack said, as he approached her.

“Not down here, either.” She dried her face. “Those ‘bad dudes’ you were talking about must have followed you here.”

“Or you,” Jack said.

“He must have run away again, or they took him.”

“I saw signs of a struggle upstairs. Paul put up some kind of a fight.”

“My question is, why aren’t we dead?” Lian said. “We were out cold. Two bullets in the head and we’re not a problem anymore.”

“I don’t know, but I’m not complaining.”

“Where do you think they took him?”

Jack checked his watch. “It’s eleven twenty-seven. There’s still time.”

“For what?”

“We need to get back to Dalfan. They’ve taken Paul there.”

“How do you know that?”

He grabbed her by the hand. “I’ll explain on the way. Let’s go!”

* * *

They took Lian’s silver Range Rover. It had a better chance in the high water and it had all-wheel drive, too.

No one was on the streets now, which meant no traffic to slow them down, but Jack had to work the wheel hard to avoid the obstacles in the road — tree branches, garbage cans, sheet metal roofing, and abandoned vehicles. A couple times he had to jump the curb and run on the sidewalk to keep from hitting sparking power lines slithering in the street.

Jack took a chance on Lian and filled her in on the fight at the warehouse and then at the Pink Lily.

“You don’t seem surprised,” Jack said, taken aback by her nonchalance.

“It’s not surprising, given the stakes involved. I’m just glad you’re the one who survived.”

“Six dead bodies will be hard to explain to the police.”

“I think you’re right about the four Chinese disappearing. They’re probably fish food by now. So really it’s only two you have to worry about.”

“Gee, that makes me feel better.”

“At least now I know you’re the one who deleted all of my security files.”

“No, I swear, it wasn’t me.”

“Then who?”

“Still working on that one.”

“I still can’t believe Rhodes wants to crash the world’s stock markets.”

“I don’t think he does.”

“But he gave Paul the software.”

“Sure, but he didn’t write it. That means someone else wrote it for him. So it’s that coder I want to talk to — and the guy behind the coder. That’s the asswipe who’s behind all of this.”

Lian powered on the radio. An emergency signal blared on every station and an automated voice repeated: “SEEK HIGH GROUND NOW! STAY IN SHELTER! DO NOT DRIVE! AVOID LOW-LYING AREAS! HIGH-VOLTAGE LINES ARE DOWN! STAY INDOORS!”

Dead traffic lights swayed in the wind; streetlamps and building lights were all dead now.

Lian punched the radio off. “Only thirteen minutes to midnight. Drive faster!”

63

PYONGYANG, NORTH KOREA

GENERAL ADMINISTRATIVE SERVICES DIRECTORATE

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.

64

SINGAPORE

Jack killed the lights and slammed on the brakes. The Range Rover came to a splashing halt thirty yards from the Dalfan building, lit up like a Christmas tree in the middle of the blacked-out neighborhood. The Toyota van was parked on the sidewalk near the door.