True Deceptions (True Lies) (29 page)

The shore didn’t offer too many places to hide, and the darkness didn’t help his ability to navigate.

He tugged the boat up the beach and hid it in a row of bushes. He may need it for the return trip. Dane had provided him with a phone with the GPS coordinates of the crates. As the only person who understood how to detonate them, Cassie had to be located close by. The signal beamed from a spot about twenty kilometers from his current location. He needed a car. He walked up the coast until he found a few small wooden huts and a house with both a car and a rundown Honda motorcycle. Within five minutes, he had the motorcycle humming down the road toward the signal. His black outfit worked well in the shadows. He hoped he’d only be in the country for one night, but he was prepared for a longer stay if necessary.

Potholes and caved in curbs made traveling slower than he wanted. At one point, headlights ahead forced him into a field to avoid detection. When he finally hit the road again, he was covered in dirt.

He found the crates in a warehouse about eight miles from the DMZ. Sneaking past the few men guarding the site, he confirmed all twenty drones had been assembled and flown recently. No sign of Cassie. He used Google Earth and found a few houses in a village about six kilometers from his location.

After an exhaustive search, peeking in windows and crawling across dirt yards, he came up with nothing. Three kilometers outside the village, a huge house, completely out of place in the impoverished region, stood like Versailles amid French peasants’ hovels. Bingo. Probably part of the compensation package of one of the bigwigs of a North Korean corporation.

Simon left the bike behind a decorative bridge and slipped past a guard patrolling the grounds. The ground floor was dark, but the upper floors had a few rooms with lights on. He pulled himself up to the edge of one of the ground floor windows, grasped the trim and clipped his feet onto a balcony the next story up—the type of balcony one would have in a master bedroom. He stayed to the side of the open door and saw Mr. Lee curled up with a nude woman with black hair. Not Cassie. She had to be in the house though. Lee was the main player in this game.

Simon climbed onto the ledge and moved to the next window. Nothing but a dressing room. Step by step, he crossed window to window, gripping the edge of the house like a rock climber. Two rooms down, he saw her. Asleep in bed, still dressed as she’d been that morning. Part of that knotted feeling in his gut unraveled. She looked healthy.

He knocked on the window, but turned at the arrival of three helicopters and a distant convoy of trucks. Military, all of them.
Shit.
He lost his footing and reached out to grab hold of the sill, but missed. His body prepared to hit whatever was under him. He sucked in a breath to stop from bellowing his position to the entire compound. Falling arse over tit, he landed hard on the grass under him. His back ached as a warning of some serious pain that would arrive later. He needed to get to Cassie, before his problems quadrupled.

Too late.
The helicopters landed in an adjacent field. He could hear the troops piling out of the trucks. He ducked behind some tall decorative grass and hid, body flat, face to the ground. There was no way he would win in this situation. Five minutes earlier, and he’d have rescued her and been on the motorcycle back to the beach.

He turned his head to the side without lifting it off the ground. His view improved, but not perfectly. The soldiers searching the house turned on lights, illuminating room after room as they moved through different areas. He held his breath when they reached the second floor. A flashlight added to the light in Cassie’s room. They were with her.

Within ten minutes, the troops pulled Lee, the woman in his bed, Cassie, and a dozen staff members out into the yard. They must be holding Lee’s security detail in a separate location. Everyone but Cassie was dressed to sleep. For several minutes the soldiers milled around and Lee argued with them. Cassie edged from the middle to the side of the group and remained silent. Several soldiers lifted their rifles toward the group of people, as if they were lined up for an execution.

Simon’s heart pounded in his chest. He needed to calm down, make a plan. With slow, methodical movements, he reached for his gun. He couldn’t do much against twenty-plus soldiers, but if Cassie went down, the bastard who shot her would. too.

Shouts between one of the higher-ranking men and Lee grew more heated until a soldier moved to Lee’s side and slammed him in the face with the butt of his rifle. Blood spewed from his mouth, and he fell to his knees. The man who’d struck him stood over him until he received an order from the officer. Then he aimed his rifle at the back of Lee’s head and fired. The woman with him and members of the staff shrieked. Several tried to run to safety, but were gunned down too.

Cassie remained still, showing no emotion. If she’d cried over Lee, they may have shot her. Instead, they cuffed her and moved her apart from the household staff. Her height and blonde hair made her different enough to interest them. She might make it out alive.
Stay strong, angel.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

C
assie had practiced yoga and meditation for years. She was not the best at it, but when pulled out of bed by the North Korean military and forced to watch Mr. Lee die, she’d reached deep inside and utilized every calming technique she knew. When they’d placed the gun above his ea
r, she’d shut her eyes and focused on a memory of the sunset at the beach. Peaceful and relaxing. She’d heard the shot, heard the screams, and then more shots. She looked at her feet and tried to keep her expression blank as her emotions flew around her in a vortex of horror and fright.

She held her screams inside. She’d save her nervous breakdown for later, or she’d be dead. Why waste a few moments losing control? Tucker had taken pride in making her squirm when he pointed a gun at her head. No longer. If these men wanted her to die, she’d do it with dignity. Why make a spectacle?

A young man in a uniform cuffed her hands behind her back and escorted her to a military truck. He pushed her into the empty backseat. Her shoulders hurt, being wrenched back into an impossible position. Leaning her head on the headrest to try to alleviate some of the strain on her arms, she shut her eyes to keep her mind from being overloaded with images. They lined up Mr. Lee’s staff and would probably be gunning them down soon. There was no point in her witnessing a mass murder. Her thoughts fled again to the beach, a blue sky, and waves that crashed on the sea wall—the perfect day for cranking on her surfboard.

Her biggest worry before this incident had been whether Mr. Lee would rape her. That thought had constricted her chest with constant tension. Now her life was on the line. Stay calm. Don’t panic. Simon and Dane couldn’t rescue her. She needed to find the strength to survive on her own.

The car door opened again and a higher-ranking military officer—older, more confident—sat next to her. The door on the opposite side opened and a younger aide slid in and pushed her into the middle of the seat.

The younger man asked her something in Korean. She didn’t answer. He then switched to English. “What is your name?”

She didn’t answer. With her best composure, she reacted as though she didn’t understand the question. If they thought she was American, they could kill her for being a spy. If she didn’t speak, maybe they’d believe she was Russian or from another country that was remotely allied to North Korea.

After a few minutes, no one spoke to her. The two men discussed something of great importance, according to their tones and the expressions on their faces.

The car drove off over roads marred by potholes and inadequate upkeep. Cassie looked out the window and tried to memorize the route. It wouldn’t be much help; it was more of a brain exercise. She’d been dropped in the middle of nowhere and had no idea how to get out.

They pulled into a base surrounded by barbed wire and filled with military personnel. How would she escape now? The fortress plunged Cassie’s emotions into a dark and miserable void. The younger man escorted Cassie to an office building and a small room. When he departed, slamming and locking the door behind him, she looked around. The room was stark except for a window with iron bars, a desk, three chairs, and a potted plant. Nothing she could use to escape. She needed more time and a plan: stay calm and don’t talk, and look for opportunities.

Part of her problem was the homogeneity of the Korean people. If she escaped, her height and hair would be a beacon as to her whereabouts, like the Bat symbol.

The door opened, and three men walked in—the two men from the car and another older officer.

The younger man pulled out a chair for Cassie and forced her to sit. She bit back a cry of pain from the awkward position of her hands behind her as she slammed into the back of the chair.

“The drones were made in the United States, so we will assume, for now, you are American. It will be easier if you answer my questions.”

Cassie stared at the wall and tried to stay in her surf daydream. If she didn’t listen to the questions, she wouldn’t have an urge to answer them. A soft rain began to fall outside. The rain on the concrete cast a light haze throughout the area. A wonderful night for a stroll to freedom.

Her interrogator spoke to the other men in Korean and then returned his attention to her. “Maybe you don’t understand how serious this is. If you don’t start talking, you will be convicted of espionage and sentenced to forty years of hard labor in a work camp. You will have a difficult time in the mines with your height.”

They hadn’t hurt her yet. She could hold out. The rain outside the window caught her attention again. The wind had picked up and was now blowing around like a monsoon. Most of the soldiers she’d seen lingering in groups at the edges of buildings must have found shelter. Her ears pulled the sound of the storm into focus and ignored the man speaking to her.

After what seemed like an hour, he gave up and spoke to the other two men. Good. Maybe they’d lock her in solitary confinement, and she’d be safe for a few hours. She’d survived prison before, even though it had been only two days. She knew she’d be able to keep her mind steady for a longer period of time if they left her alone. She ignored her body’s need for food and sleep. And she ignored the small child growing inside of her. If she thought about Simon’s baby, she’d break down and do whatever they asked of her.

L
etting her go had been the hardest thing he’d ever done, but getting captured would have been a disaster. If they learned of Simon’s love for Cassie, and vice versa, the enemy would be able break one or both of them to extract any information they wanted. Simon would have a hard time watching Cassie tortured. And t
hey would most definitely torture one of them in front of the other, and eventually kill them both after they received all the information they needed. She stood a better chance of surviving if she was the only prisoner.

They must have killed everyone else, because not a sound came from the house. Only two military guards remained. They’d searched the house and disappeared around the back. The valuables Mr. Lee had acquired while propping up the North Korean economy would slowly disappear into the pockets of friends of the government. The two lucky guards stationed at the house would most likely spend the next few hours searching for jewelry and other small items to sell for a quick buck on the black market.

Simon remained hidden in the tall grass until the trucks departed and the birds began to chirp again, safe from human movement and interruption. He needed food and a disguise. The front door had been left open in the chaos of the evening. He eased into the house and located the kitchen. After refilling his water bottles, he located some kimchi and slices of beef from the refrigerator.

A long brown jacket and beat up straw hat from one of Mr. Lee’s servants hung on a hook by the door to the back garden. He’d blend in as well as he could for a giant. Several minutes later, he crouched low while driving the motorcycle through the endless countryside. His backpack hid under the jacket like a beer belly. He was able to pass several cars without a second glance from the occupants. Then the rain fell. Slowly at first, then in heavy waves that slowed his movement and soaked his skin through his clothes and under his Kevlar vest.

The signal for the drones had moved east, further away from the coast and the small boat that could take them to safety. He passed through several small villages and down long stretches of farmland, pulling over three times to confirm the coordinates and once to change the battery on the phone.

The signal came to a rest in the middle of a small military base. Barbed wire on top of high fences, and the many men wandering between barracks and warehouses, confirmed his worst fears. How would he get her out of a military compound without a major international incident? He drove by twice within the span of an hour and began to access the logistics in the rescue mission.

He hid in an outcrop of bushes and watched the main gates open for merchants, soldiers, and visitors. A night rescue made the most sense. Too many people would be able to gun them down in natural light, even on such a rainy, overcast day. But that provided the bastards more time to hurt Cassie. He grimaced at the thought, and his temples pounded. Slipping into the woods about five kilometers from the camp, he called Dane.

“What’s going on?” Dane asked.

“Cassie was taken by the military in a crackdown. The main buyer, his family, and staff were executed in front of her. I didn’t see where his guards went. They may have been plants for the government. She’s healthy, so far.”

“Are you okay?”

“Just checking on everything. I can move in, extract her, and get out, but I may need some additional help to cross the border.”

“I’m working on it. The South Koreans aren’t too keen on infiltrating their neighbor to save someone else’s ass. The agency won’t help, so I’m alone. I’m trying to call in a few favors.”