Red Shark

“I don’t think so,” Fumiko said. “The North has trade ministers who negotiate such things with the Japanese government. Given the new reality in Pyongyang, Jin wouldn’t leave the country unless the meeting was vital to the DPRK’s survival.”

“You mean the survival of their nuclear arsenal, don’t you?” Scott said.

They all looked at him; their silence conveyed comprehension.

Scott began to see the outline of the plan being hatched by Radford and Ellsworth, and he didn’t like it. “You said this meeting is being held near Taiwan. Where?”

Fumiko said, “On an island called Matsu Shan. We identified it from our intercepts.”

“So what’s on this Matsu Shan?” Scott asked.

“A villa owned by a Taiwanese druglord.”

3

Safe house, Virginia suburbs

“General, do I understand,” Scott said, “that you want to insert a SEAL team into Matsu Shan to find out what Jin is up to?”

“We absolutely must know what the meeting is about,” Radford said. “And the only way to find out is by putting SEALs ashore.”

“We need your expertise on this one,” Ellsworth chimed in.

Scott felt his gut tighten. He saw it again, the North Korean frigate charging, the race to get the SEAL team back onboard the Chicago; her torpedoes slamming into the frigate; its bow and stern folding into a V…. “With respect, Admiral, I seem to recall you once had doubts about my abilities to carry out a similar mission.”

Ellsworth pointed a finger. “We’re not here to rehash the past, Scott. Your actions in the Baltic squared the account.” His temper held in check by the presence of Radford, Jefferson, and Fumiko, Ellsworth said evenly, “You inserted SOF teams into Dubrovnik and North Korea, so this job at Matsu Shan should be a piece of cake.”

“Sir, they’re never a piece of cake.”

Jefferson, his face an unreadable mask, said nothing. Fumiko, perhaps unaccustomed to verbal fencing between superiors and subordinates, looked uncomfortable. Radford, smoking a cigarette, seemed content to let Scott and Ellsworth slug it out.

“What I’m saying, Scott, is that you’d be operating in friendly waters, Taiwanese territorial waters, not in the damned Yellow Sea off Korea.”

“Admiral, the Chinese Navy patrols those waters. So do the Taiwanese. Getting in and out undetected, much less making an insertion, can be nasty business. Have the Taiwanese been told about this op?”

“They won’t be brought into it,” Radford said, lurching out of his chair. “This is strictly our show. All we want is a recon job, not an assault. McCoy will head the team. We need first-rate intelligence on this. So we need someone who knows what to listen for and what to look for. That means you’ll go in with them.”

Scott felt as if he’d just been kicked in the gut.

Fumiko set up a presentation for viewing on a wall-sized flat-screen monitor mounted behind drapes in the living room. Radford, Ellsworth, and Jefferson ate sandwiches and drank sodas while waiting for the show to begin.

Fumiko’s long, tapered fingers flew over the keys of her laptop. As she bent close to Scott to retrieve a CD from her kit, he caught a whiff of her scent. She knew he was looking at her and seemed to realize the effect she was having on him.

“Are you based in Washington?” Scott asked.

“No, Tokyo. In fact I’m flying back tonight.”

“Thirteen hours. That’s a long flight.”

“I’m used to it. I’m away from home a lot.”

“Must be rough on your family.”

“I have no family. The JDIH is my family.”

Scott knew that Fumiko represented the new breed of liberated Japanese woman. Freed from the traditional roles of homemaker and dutiful wife of a salaryman, Japanese women were now free to pursue careers that had formerly been considered appropriate only for Japanese men. And she’d obviously made the most of it.

“How long have you been with them?”

“Ten years.”

“You must be good.”

She turned her lovely almond-shaped eyes on him, the intensity of her gaze penetrating to his core. She smiled and said, “Yes, I’m very good.”

He’d seen the same intensity in other women he’d known — and loved. Tracy. If only she could have channeled her intensity, like Fumiko had, into something that wasn’t destructive. How different could two women be, he wondered? Suddenly he remembered: Tracy was in Tokyo with her toy, Rick Sterling, the navy attaché…. He pulled back from the edge just when Fumiko announced, “Ready when you are.”

An aerial photo of the northeastern portion of Taiwan came up on the screen.