Dual Assassins (11 page)

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Authors: Edward Vogler

Tags: #FICTION / Espionage

BOOK: Dual Assassins
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The pilot smiled, nodded and began to push and squeeze his way to the cockpit. While standing at the door, Jim waved his arm to the ground crew to pull back the stairs which were still loaded with people. The staircase began to move away from the plane. When it was nearly four feet away, a fifty-something year old man standing on the top step leaped from the airstair toward the plane, missed the opening but caught himself, with his hands gripping the floor as his feet dangled.

Jim fell to his knees and grabbed the man’s wrists as the engines began to rev and the plane began to move.

There was no room on the plane for this guy. They were overloaded already. Did he drop him or try to pull him into the plane? Could this one guy be the person to cause the plane to crash? But could he live with himself if he dropped him to certain death?

Jim held the man’s arm with both hands but felt his arms begin to slip away. Jim was now lying on the floor staring into his eyes. The man was completely silent, but Jim recognized in his eyes that the man was begging for his life. Jim’s muscles were aching. The man looked up at Jim with an inability to blink as tears streamed down his cheeks.

“Somebody help me, hurry,” screamed Jim. Another passenger fell down on his stomach next to Jim and grabbed the man’s arm and between the two of them, they pulled him aboard. Jim stood up and the rescued man lay on the floor his arms wrapped tightly around Jim’s legs as he sobbed.

The intercom crackled. “This is the captain. We are way overloaded for this flight. We need to remove all the luggage. Anything that is not fastened down, throw it out the door. Don’t hesitate, we don’t have much time. Your choices are to throw out your luggage and possessions or end up in a flaming ball of fire at the end of the runway. Please people, do it now.” The intercom clicked off.

People now passed the last of their prized possessions rearward. Jim and the rescued man began throwing suitcases and bags out the door, leaving a trail of luggage down the taxiway. As the cases began to mount up, a third man sat on the floor and began kicking cases out the door. Jim was surprised when some of the passenger seats arrived with the baggage and were thrown out the door.

“We’re nearing takeoff,” said the captain. Secure the rear door.”

Jim closed and locked the door. He fought his way up the aisle until he sat next to Reanna.

“You have one hell of a woman there,” said Rich. “You should have seen her fight off several men trying to take your seat. That’s a side of her I never expected.” Jim looked at Henderson and he appeared to be sleeping.

“I don’t like this,” said Jim as he faced Reanna. Her forehead wrinkled and her eyebrows squished together. “Uh, what’s up?”

“This thing may never get off the ground.” He caressed her hand and gazed into her eyes. “This will definitely be the ride of our lives. Hon, I love you.”

The passengers became quiet, no one spoke as the engines roared to life and the plane began its takeoff roll. Reanna’s eyes pressed shut and she tightly held Jim’s hand. His eyes were fixated on the ground which was moving much too slowly in spite of the many pieces of luggage strewn down the adjacent taxiway.

Did he make the right decision in coming to the airport rather than driving south? Would he be responsible for killing Reanna and the under secretary of state…and his longtime friend, Rich? God help me, he prayed.

Chapter Twenty-Three

With a deafening
roar from the engines, the plane slowly picked up speed and its nose rotated to an extremely high angle but the wheels remained firmly planted on the runway.

Beads of perspiration formed on Jim’s forehead. With his experience as a World War II fighter pilot, he wished he was in the cockpit and not in a passenger seat. The plane shuddered and creaked. Some overhead luggage doors flew open and flung their contents out among the passengers. The plane rattled, sounding as if it was coming apart at the seams. Some people fell to the floor while others lost their balance and fell onto some seated passengers. The plane lifted off the runway for a few feet. It felt as though it was being dangled from an invisible rope as it flew parallel to the ground. The grinding sound of the wheels being retracted echoed in the cabin, and then ‘clump,’ as the wheel doors closed. The plane began to climb at a very slow rate.

Reanna opened her eyes, shot Jim a look, “Oh ye of little faith,” and smiled. As the plane gained altitude, many passengers cheered and applauded. The frightful faces throughout the cabin began to calm.

A few hours later, they landed safely at the Inazuke, Japan Air Base which was occupied by an Army Fighter Wing. When the passengers exited the plane, they were warmly received by the military. Coffee, water and food were supplied for everyone. The atmosphere was like a party or family reunion. The passengers talked and joked among themselves as they munched their treats. Everyone expressed happiness to be out of Korea.

Jim stood with an empty stare. He felt tightness in his chest and his eyes became moist.

“Jim, are you okay?” asked Reanna.

“Yeah, I’m alright.”

“What’s the matter? Tell me, Jim. What’s going on? Aren’t you happy?”

“I feel good to be out of Korea and getting Rich and Henderson out as well. But I can’t get those other people out of my mind who couldn’t get out. I can still see the pleading faces of those on the boarding stairs as it was pushed away from the plane. Some swung their clenched fists while others cried and begged me to allow them aboard. They stared at me hoping I would allow just one more person on board. It’s as if I had condemned them to death. It’s not pretty.”

“That’s not your fault, honey. You did the best you could. Look at all of the people you did help aboard…and you saved Henderson too.”

“I know, but it’s still tough.”

Jim, Reanna, Henderson and Palmer, along with many other passengers, flew to Tokyo later that day. Then they began their multi-day trip eastward.

During their transpacific flight, Reanna reached under her blouse into her belt and retrieved the semi-automatic pistol that came with her cape. She began to fieldstrip the pistol, placing the pieces on her serving tray.

“Wow, I can’t believe it,” said Reanna. “Look, Jim.” She held up the trigger housing group toward Jim. “The firing pin has been filed down. The hammer can’t even reach the firing pin. No wonder it didn’t fire.” She handed Jim the pieces. Jim studied the mechanism, nodded but didn’t say anything as he handed the pistol back to Reanna.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Since Jim and
Reanna traveled with Henderson, they too were given preferential treatment in their flights. After nearly a week of travel, which to Jim seemed like an eternity, the plane made their approach to Andrews Air Force Base.

“Well, Jim, we made it and we accomplished our mission,” said Reanna as she snuggled into his arms.

“Yes, glad it’s over although it was touch and go for a while. I’m surprised that the secretary hasn’t said very much to us since we left Seoul.”

Reanna sat up, looked at Jim and said, “That’s true, but he didn’t say much to us
before
Seoul either.”

The plane landed and taxied to the ramp. Jim saw a group of people on the tarmac--apparently a welcoming committee for Henderson. Several of them had cameras and microphones.

“Stay in the background, hon,” said Jim. “We don’t want photos taken of us.”

The plane came to a stop. When the propellers stopped spinning, the door opened. Henderson was the first to descend the stairs into a bright cloudless day and was followed by Palmer. Jim and Reanna remained behind, then followed a few other passengers until they stood behind the men and women with the microphones and cameras that waited to interview Henderson.

Jim took in a deep breath, then exhaled. “Fresh air, I missed the fresh air. I can even smell the fresh blossoms. We’re home, Reanna, we’re—.”

“We’re not home until we reach St. Louis,” Reanna snapped with a frown.

“Welcome home, Mr. Secretary,” a well-known reporter said to Henderson. “How was your trip home, sir?”

“It was long and hard.”

“How was your meeting in Korea?”

“I tried to avert the war that is now raging down the Peninsula but I didn’t get there in time. I did manage, however, to rescue some government workers and brought them home with me.”

Jim and Reanna took a double take and her mouth dropped open. They snapped their heads around and then at each other with an incredulous stare. They refocused on Henderson as the interview continued.

“Was that difficult, sir?” asked another reporter.

“Of course it was tough, but I managed to get them out. That’s the main thing here. They’re free…I saved them from the Northern onslaught.”

Jim shook his head and grabbed Reanna’s hand, “Come on, let’s get out of here. I can’t take any more of this,” and they walked toward the Operations Center.

“That’s why you’ll never be a politician, Jim. You couldn’t do that.”

“No, I couldn’t. But I could be an honest politician.”

“Yeah, right.”

A man wearing a blue sport shirt and black slacks stood in front of the doors and said, “Mr. Wilson?”

“Yes.”

“Sir, I’m Dillard with the Agency. I’m here to drive you and Reanna to headquarters.”

“Okay, let’s go.” Jim looked at Reanna and said, “As they say, no rest for the weary.”

When they arrived at headquarters, they checked in with the help of Dillard and were ushered to the same conference room on the second floor.

When they entered the room, cheers went up from the group of people jammed into the room and standing around the conference table. There was a large cake on the table which read,
Welcome Home Jim and Reanna
. Everyone seemed to be in a festive mood. Coffee and tea were being poured and the cake was being sliced.

Mac came over and shook Jim’s hand. “Welcome home, Jim,” then shook Reanna’s hand. “It’s so nice to see you both.”

“Good to see you back on your feet too, from what I heard,” said Jim.

“Well, yeah, just a minor bump in the road.”

Mac turned to the group and announced, “Get your cake and coffee and sit down. This will be a short welcoming, then we’ll immediately go into a debriefing.”

Several people came by and patted Jim on the shoulder with brief greetings, then headed for the cake.

Jim and Reanna sat down at the middle of the conference table and while everyone was getting settled, Jim examined the attendees. Frenchy Cormier, Danny Richling and Lenny Bergeron sat across the table from Jim and Reanna. Bruce Hemphill sat at the head of the table with MacDonald next to him across from Jim while others grabbed seats around the table. A few stood next to the wall.

Jim took a few bites of his cake but wasn’t in the mood to celebrate. He noticed Reanna didn’t touch her cake either but sipped at her tea.

Smiling, Frenchy said, “Welcome back, guys,” and gave them both a thumbs up.

“Okay everybody, let’s settle down,” said Bruce Hemphill. Silence quickly returned to the room. “Before we start with any formal debrief,” said Bruce, “We should have Jim and Reanna give us some thought starters.” Bruce then leaned back in his black leather chair, looked at Jim and nodded as a signal to begin.

“Well, first of all, Yeong-suk, a Korean who worked in the embassy for several years was actually a spy for North Korea. He was known as Denny and was liked by everyone. He kept the North Koreans informed of the embassy’s plans and procedures. He even knew the location of Henderson’s secret meeting place that I wasn’t privy to. He seemed to know my every move in advance. Denny was actually responsible for the death of Bill Nickerson, the DSS Agent assigned to protect Secretary Henderson. Fortunately, Denny met his demise and he’s no longer a threat to us.”

Jim looked at Mac when he didn’t respond to the statement. He just sat in silence and grinned.

“I think we should end this meeting,” said Bruce as he leaned forward in his chair. “Jim, you and Reanna need to report your findings to me personally in my office.”

Everyone focused on Bruce until Mac spoke, “No, I don’t think so. Please continue, Jim. It’s important for everyone to hear your message.”

Everyone slowly turned their attention to Jim as he shot Mac a hard look. Jim scanned the attendees around the table. Everyone was focused on him and their cake eating had stopped. Jim saw that Mac remained still and displayed his grin as if it was painted on his face. Jim turned and fixated on Bruce, who gave Mac a darting glare, then faced Jim.

Jim continued, “It sure was strange that within a city of over a million people, Denny took me to a club where I met Kim Woong-Nanyg who is a Korean but has a Russian passport. Was this a coincidence? I don’t think so.”

Mac spoke up, still grinning, “Did he also meet his demise?”

“No, he didn’t. He knew about S & S Engineering and he knew about the second floor activities.”

Mac’s grin disappeared and he shot straight up in his chair and slapped the table. With wrinkled forehead asked, “How did that happen?”

“I’ll get to that in a moment,” said Jim as he paused. . “I accepted five thousand cash from him to establish a good communications base with him. I’m certain this will open the door for us to secure more information about Russia, maybe even leading to a possible double-agent activity which would be invaluable.”

Bruce asked, “What did you do with the money you received?”

“I used that to get out of another jam which I will detail in my written report. I would rather not discuss that here in this room.”

Frenchy was capturing this information quickly on his lined tablet which made a scratching sound on the paper. His black straight hair kept falling forward covering his one eye and he kept sweeping it back with his other hand.

“Continue,” said Mac.

Reanna sprang up straight, placed her arms on the table, and folded her hands. Her eyebrows lowered and pinched together. “The semi-automatic pistol I was furnished with had the firing pin filed down, making the weapon inoperable. I almost lost my husband because of that. How did that happen, Bruce?” She stared at Bruce but he didn’t respond. He remained still with a blank stare, and he began tapping his foot on the floor.

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