The Target - David Baldacci Page 0,135

government or country look bad or not. Such would be unheard of in North Korea.

She glanced toward the door. Min was in there, no doubt wondering what was going on.

Chung-Cha rose and walked into the other room. Min was still sitting in front of the fire, her teacup empty. Chung-Cha sat beside her.

“Would you like me to teach you a few words of English?” asked Chung-Cha.

Min looked surprised but then nodded eagerly.

Chung-Cha faced her and in English said, “I am Min.” In Korean she added, “Now you say that.”

Min’s words came out garbled. But they kept working on it until the three words came out clear.

“Now say, ‘I am ten.’”

Min accomplished this after five tries.

“Now put them together. ‘I am Min. I am ten.’”

Min said this and waited for more from Chung-Cha, who apparently was deliberating with herself, her features perplexed.

“What next?” asked Min eagerly.

Chung-Cha seemed to reach a decision and faced Min again.

“Now say, ‘Will you help me?’”

Min mouthed the words first and then struggled through them. But they kept working on it until she could say them fluently.

“See, now you can speak English,” said Chung-Cha.

“What does that last part mean?” asked Min. “‘Will you help me?’”

“It is simply a nice greeting. If anything happens to me—” Chung-Cha realized at once that she had made a mistake.

Min’s face was instantly full of alarm. “What will happen to you?”

“Nothing, Min, nothing. But one never knows. So if something does, then those words will be good to say. Will you repeat it all again? I want to be sure you remember them.”

They went through the words many more times. And as Chung-Cha put Min to bed that night, she heard the little girl saying them over and over.

“I am Min. I am ten. Will you help me?”

Chung-Cha closed her door, rested her forehead on the wood, and felt her chest and throat constrict and tears well up in her eyes.

She said under her breath, “I am Yie Chung-Cha. I am young but old. Will you help me too?”

Chapter

70

AFTER DINNER THAT NIGHT, ELEANOR Cassion met with Robie and Reel in the sitting room next to her bedroom.

“I want to thank you,” she began.

“For what?” asked Reel.

“Whatever you said to Tommy really seemed to have made an impression. He told me this afternoon that he’s going to control his anger at school and work more on developing friends.”

“He’s a really good kid, ma’am,” said Reel. “He’s just struggling with being part of the first family.”

“I know this is only a small step and there will be challenges ahead, but it is something very positive, as far as I’m concerned.”

“Glad we could help,” said Reel.

“I hope you’re enjoying yourselves. I don’t know where your last mission was, but I doubt it was as bucolic and relaxing as it is here.”

“It was most definitely not,” said Robie.

She looked at him. “Now, if my daughter gets to be too much for you, please let me know. She can be quite headstrong and believes that she’s already fully grown and knows everything.”

“It’ll be fine, Mrs. Cassion,” said Robie. “She’s, well, she’s a very confident young woman.”

“Yes, she is,” said Eleanor. “A little too confident, if you ask me.”

A bit later Robie was strolling through the rear grounds of the property and stopped in front of a faded flowerbed that would soon be turned under. The air was brisk and he zipped up his jacket.

He heard a door close behind him and turned around. Claire Cassion was advancing toward him. She had on another pair of skinny jeans and a long knitted sweater. In her front pocket he could see the outline of her smartphone. She had traded in the stilettos for clunky boots that were more suited to the wet grass. She gripped a mug of coffee with both hands as she walked up.

“Nice night,” she said. She held the mug up to her face and then said, “Nothing like coffee on a crisp night in Nantucket.”

“You like coffee?” said Robie.

“My mother doesn’t like me to drink too much. But when I pull all-nighters studying, it helps. And when I go to college I’m sure it’ll be part of my diet.” She set the mug down on a table next to a swing and pulled out her phone. “Hey, would you mind taking a picture with me? I’d like to post it on my Facebook page.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” said Robie.

“My mom won’t mind. Well, I’ll explain it to her.”

“It’s not that. It’s just that

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