Dual Assassins (5 page)

“Where will I be staying; who will be my contact?”

“You’ll be staying in the Bando Hotel which is currently the site of the U. S. Embassy. You’ll like it Jim, it’s the tallest building in Seoul…nice place. It’s located in the Jongno-gu district. Palmer will be your contact at the embassy. He’ll give you anything you need, no questions asked. One more thing, we need you to make contact with a North Korean agent while you’re there. He’ll be a valuable source of needed information.”

“Now it’s also a North Korean agent,” said Jim as he softly slapped the table. “And how in the hell am I going to do that? Are there any other surprises you haven’t told me?”

With a sly grin, Cormier responded, “You’ll find a way. That’s it, all…simple, simple, Jim.”

“What agent am I to meet and how do I meet him?”

“Rich Palmer will fill you in on those details. But it’s important to develop some type of relationship with the North Korean and gain his trust.”

Jim looked down in silence collecting his thoughts for a few moments. Then he looked up at Cormier, pointed his finger at the data and said, “All of this in five days? How am I going to do that? At least when I was in Europe, I could pass as a local, but North Korea? I’d be out of place. I could never blend in with the locals. That would be like a man from Korea trying to blend in with the folks in the Louisiana Bayou.”

Simple, simple stuff, Jim.”

Yeah, I know about you and Mac’s simple, simple stuff. The last time I almost paid for it with my life.”

With a slight grin Cormier said, “You’ll be fine. You’re much better than you think you are.”

“I wish I had your confidence,” said Jim and he slowly shook his head.

Cormier continued. “You’ll be sent as an advisor for technology. It has been leaked on purpose, I might add, since you are involved in advanced weapon technology.”

“Jesus, Frenchy!” blurted Jim as he bolted up in his chair.

Cormier puckered his lips then continued, “The Russian agents will be looking for you just as avidly as you’ll be looking for them. It’ll be easy to start an exchange of information. Reanna will be hooking up with you two days after you arrive. You know she’s a good partner and she’s fluent in Russian which will help with the Russian agent.”

“You guys will have my back? You’ll be able to recover me if I get in trouble?”

“Sure, you’ll never have to worry about that…never! You have Mac’s private number where you can reach him day or night…just like before. And your extraction code is still ‘Uncle Ted.’ Your agent name is still ‘Bell Boy One’.”

“Yeah, no problem,” said Jim sarcastically as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Richling and Bergeron got to their feet and left the room without making any comments.

Cormier focused on Jim and said, “You have the use of this room for the next couple of hours. Don’t take anything from the room. There are various maps spread out on the other end of the table. Familiarize yourself with the area and towns. There is also a city map of Seoul, along with several aerial photos, study them well. The more you absorb the more effective you’ll be, any questions?”

Jim looked at Cormier and paused, then said, “Frenchy—”

“I didn’t think so,” said Cormier. “Your driver will be here in two hours so don’t waste your time. Study the data.”

Three hours later, Jim was on an airplane headed for Korea.

This was an impossible mission. Maybe Reanna was right. What had he gotten himself into this time?

Reanna woke up
in the morning to the stench of vomit. Her nose stung and her stomach was queasy. She wrinkled her nose as she stared at one woman slouched on the bench sleeping with dried vomit on the front of her flowered dress. Reanna snapped her head around when she heard the clank of the cell door being opened.

The policeman looked at the paper in his hand and said, “Yana Dolinsky.”

“Yes,” said Reanna and jumped to her feet.

“Come with me.”

Reanna exited the cell and after the officer relocked the cell door, he held Reanna’s arm and walked down the hall into a small interview room. “Sit down, Miss Dolinsky,” Then he turned and exited the room.

A tall thin man with dark hair wearing a gray suit, white shirt and tie entered the room. “Good morning,” he said as he pulled out a metal chair, making a screeching sound. He sat down. “I’m Daniel Duffy, FBI special agent,” and flashed his credentials at Reanna.

“Well, I’m certainly glad to see you. I’ve got to get out of here.”

“They told me you wanted to make a telephone call. Is that right?” asked Duffy. “Who were you going to call?”

“Bob MacDonald at the CIA, it’s important I get out of here as soon as possible.”

“Why?”

Reanna didn’t want to reveal more but she needed to get out. “I’ll soon be on a mission. Please call Robert MacDonald at CIA; he’ll tell you all about it. Please hurry.”

“Where are you going?”

“Um…Korea. Now can you get me out of here?”

“Yes, shortly. Were you working alone?”

“No, I work with my husband, Jim Wilson. Now will you please make the telephone call?”

“Sure, I’ll see what I can do.” He got to his feet and looked through the door glass window at the officer standing outside of the room and called to him. When the door opened Duffy said, “We’re done here,” and exited the cell, striding down the hallway. Reanna’s eyes suddenly began to regain their sparkle as she was escorted back to her cell.

Reanna sat on the bench and began to hum a tune. A policeman removed the woman from the cell who had caused the stench. Now Reanna was all alone. A short while later, a policeman delivered a tray for breakfast. She didn’t touch the food; after all, she would be home soon.

After two days
of travel, Jim experienced 52 degree temperatures when he deplaned at Gimpo Airbase in Seoul, South Korea. He was glad to be wearing his lined black leather jacket. A short Korean man wearing a black overcoat with loosely fitted and wrinkled white pants, held a sign that read, ‘James Wilson.’ Jim thought this was strange, especially on a U.S. military installation.

“Hi, I’m Jim Wilson, and you are?”

“Me your driver, sir,” speaking with a heavy Korean accent. “We go embassy.”

Jim sat in the rear seat of the four-door black sedan adorned with a large white star on the door and an orange stripe on the roof.

That’s a nice long smooth runway,” said Jim.

The driver pulled away from the plane and said, “Yes, runway built by Japanese with forced Korean labor, very hard, very bad. Many rows of tents are U.S. military with scattered British and Polish units at far end. Don’t know what else.”

After they drove off the base, there were many Koreans walking on the crowded streets. Some women were selling their wares from flat wooden boxes in front of old, dilapidated wooden buildings that lined the streets while others carried large bundles nearly three feet in diameter on their heads. Many ox-drawn carts populated the streets for transportion of goods.

It was only a few minutes before they reached downtown Seoul where the buildings became more modern and were made with concrete and bricks. Hundreds of wires crisscrossed the streets providing power for the streetcars.

The driver parked the car in the rear lot of the Bando Hotel and they rode the elevator to the 5
^th
floor. When they exited, they were greeted by two men in civilian clothes. Both men were armed. The one who opened the door said, “Good afternoon, sir.”

Jim noticed the close-cropped haircut and the guard’s bearing and said, “Good afternoon, guys, Semper Fi,” which brought a smile to their faces. Jim’s Marine Corps training and comradeship would always survive. He was escorted to his room while the driver carried Jim’s luggage and followed him through the door. After he freshened up from his travels, he went downstairs as instructed and met Richard Palmer, his old red-headed schoolmate who was dressed in a white shirt and brown tie, looking more like an academic type than an embassy employee.

“Welcome, Jim,” said Rich, “Just how long has it been, huh?”

“Quite a while,” said Jim and was astonished how much older he looked than the man he remembered.

“I’m the liaison officer here. Let’s go to the library where we can chat for a while.” They entered the Asian-decorated library and sat down in two overstuffed chairs, separated by a small table. The chairs were placed next to the wall and faced the maple table and chairs in the center of the room.

Coffee and tea was brought into the room by a Korean national smartly dressed all in white, and he placed it on the small table.

When the Korean left, Palmer said, “I really don’t know why you’re here. They haven’t told us anything. What’s up?”

“I’m here for Secretary Henderson’s arrival.”

“Then you’ll probably want to talk with Bill Nickerson. He’s DS and he arrived yesterday. He knows you’re coming. I’ll get him in a minute but I want to share something with you. I have some mixed feelings about this meeting.”

“What do you mean?” asked Jim.

“Nickerson is shooting his mouth off. He doesn’t seem to keep anything to himself. You need to be careful with him.” Palmer paused for a moment and continued, “Many citizens are also scurrying around and securing all kinds of staple food items, then they seem to be migrating farther south.”

Jim frowned, “What’s causing that action?”

“I don’t know for sure, but it’s not normal. There are always issues with the folks across the border, but this is different. Most Koreans in the south are very happy not to be under Japanese rule any longer. They have welcomed the Western Allies since their liberation. I’ve heard the North may cross the border, but I don’t think that will ever happen. I feel safe here. Is that why you’re here?”

“They want me here when Secretary Henderson arrives.”

“We do have good communications equipment and other supplies here, so whatever you need, Jim, just ask.”

“Thanks. I’ll need the names of the local leaders and their locations. I’ll start tomorrow.”

There was a knock at the door, then in walked the Korean driver all smiles, wearing a white shirt and white pants. He stood in front of the two chairs.

“Jim, this is Yeong-suk,” said Palmer, “but we all know him as Denny. He works with us here and is very reliable.” Rich turned to Denny and said, “This is Jim Wilson.”

Jim stood up preparing to shake Denny’s hand, but Denny just bowed slightly then stood erect and remained silent.

Palmer said, “Denny has worked here at the embassy for over two years…longer than I’ve been here.” Palmer looked at Denny. “I want you to stay with Jim. He will need your help. Make sure he gets everything he asks for and don’t let him out of your sight.”

“Hokay Richard, full authorization, sir?” asked Denny who looked at Jim and smiled.

Oh great, How could he get anything done with this guy at his side all day?

Jim thanked Palmer and was escorted to an office where Bill Nickerson was sitting behind a desk, wearing an open collar white shirt.

Denny quickly disappeared and Jim knocked on the open door frame. Bill looked up and inquired, “Wilson?”

“Yes.”

Nickerson rose from his desk and walked to the door, slamming it shut.

Jim said, “I understand Secretary Henderson will be here soon, and I—“

“Look Wilson,” said Nickerson, as they both stood in the middle of the floor. With a flat look and narrowed eyes he continued, “I don’t need your help, I don’t want your help. This is DS responsibility, not the CIA. Do you understand me?”

Jim’s mouth fell open. A sudden coldness hit his core. “I don’t want to get in your way, Bill; I’m only here to help.”

Bill rolled his eyes and waved his hand in dismissal and said, “You got my message…Stay away from me and stay away from Henderson…PERIOD.”

“But—”

“You’re through here, Wilson. You can leave now…goodbye.”

Jim exited the room feeling perplexed and searched for Denny.

What a reception he was getting at this place--damn!

When Jim entered
his room, Denny followed close behind and began to assist Jim in unpacking. Jim felt uncomfortable with Denny going through some of his things and filling up the drawers with his clothes, but apparently that was the custom. It was obvious to Jim that Denny was instructed to check out Jim’s equipment. The only equipment Jim had with him was a 9mm pistol which was common for embassy personnel.

* * *

The following day, Jim and Denny buttoned up their jackets and headed out into a strong wind with the temperature hovering near 40. Jim felt the wind cut through his jacket and he was chilled. The rainy season was soon approaching. This morning dark clouds formed on the horizon.

Jim knew that Denny was a friend of the U.S., but when he looked at him, he reminded him of his torture by the Japanese. Jim and Denny entered the elevator and the door slammed shut, then the elevator whirred to the first floor. When they reached the parking lot, a guard handed Jim a set of keys and pointed to a black embassy car.

Jim sat in the driver’s seat while Denny climbed into the passenger seat. When they pulled out of the compound, Jim handed a piece of paper to Denny. “Can you get me to this location?”

Denny looked at the paper and smiled. He looked at Jim and said, “That’s the location of the meeting for Henderson.”

With widening eyes, Jim took a double take at Denny, then returned his focus back to the road. “You know about Henderson’s meeting?”

“Yes.”

“How did you find out about that?”

“Umm…Jim…many people know about that. It’s not much of a secret. Are you going to meeting too?”

“I don’t know… probably,” responded Jim as he continued to drive, following Denny’s directions. They arrived at an isolated single story building with red tiled roof which was located at the edge of the city. Jim drove into the side parking lot. The building sat within a 25-foot clearing before it became surrounded by trees. The building had many windows at eye level around its perimeter. They got out of the car and strolled across the weed-infested gravel parking lot to the building, each step emitting a crunch on the gravel.