The Target - David Baldacci Page 0,83

seat and studied the man who was speaking to her. He was short and lightly built with dark hair and eyes behind square lenses.

“Yes?”

“Will you follow me, please?”

She rose and did as he had so politely asked.

As they walked the long corridor he slowed his pace so that she was walking beside him. “We all know of you, of course, Comrade Yie. You are legendary in our circle. A national hero.”

“I am not a hero, Comrade. I am simply one person who does what her country asks of her. Our Supreme Leader and his father and grandfather are the heroes. The only true heroes of our people.”

“Of course, of course,” he said hurriedly. “I did not mean to say anything that might—”

“And I do not say that you have. We will leave it at that.”

He nodded curtly, his face reddening and his eyes downcast.

She was led to a small room with wooden walls and a dull tube of fluorescent light overhead. It flickered so badly that if she were not accustomed to her country’s difficulty with maintaining a consistent flow of electricity, it would have given her a migraine.

She sat at the scarred table and placed her hands in her lap. She looked at the concrete floor beneath her feet and wondered if the cement came from one of the camps. Prisoners were good at making things like this. Hard, dangerous, unhealthy work was better performed by slaves than those who were free. Or who thought themselves so.

The door opened and two men came in. One was the same general to whom Chung-Cha had demonstrated concrete evidence of Pak’s guilt by letting him hear the man’s voice on her phone recording. She knew he had been one of Pak’s biggest supporters, which meant that suspicion had instantly focused on him. He would now do everything in his power to show his loyalty. And, Chung-Cha was aware, he would also try to punish her for bringing down his comrade. The other wore a dark suit and white shirt but no tie. The shirt was buttoned to the top button. He carried a bulky briefcase.

They sat down and spoke words of greeting.

She nodded respectfully and waited expectantly. She had long since learned to offer nothing except in response to something else. Otherwise, they might realize what she was actually thinking. And she did not want that.

The general said, “Plans are going well, Comrade Yie, for your deployment in this grand mission on behalf of your country.”

She nodded again but said nothing.

The suit took up the conversation with a nod of encouragement from the uniform.

For one second Chung-Cha allowed her mind to wander. How many meetings had she sat in with suits and uniforms? They all talked a lot but essentially said nothing she did not already know. She refocused as the suit took from his pocket three photos.

One was of a woman. She was dark-haired and pretty. Her eyes were blue and stood in considerable contrast to the color of her hair. The effect was to soften the hair and highlight the eyes and the warmth behind them.

“The First Lady of the United States of America,” said the suit.

The general added, “The evil empire which seeks to destroy us.”

Chung-Cha nodded. She knew who the woman was. She had seen her photo before while traveling overseas.

The suit continued. “Her name is Eleanor Cassion.”

She also knew this but simply nodded.

The suit pointed to the next photo. The girl in it was about fifteen or so, gauged Chung-Cha. She did not know who this was, but had a good guess. She had dirty blonde hair and her face closely resembled the woman’s.

The suit said, “The First Lady’s daughter, Claire Cassion.”

Chung-Cha nodded. She had been correct.

He then indicated the third photo. This was of a boy, about ten, who had the woman’s hair but the girl’s soft brown eyes.

“Thomas Cassion Junior, named after his father, Thomas Cassion, the president of the United States,” said the suit.

“These are the targets,” added the general unnecessarily.

“I understand that they are to be killed simultaneously,” said Chung-Cha.

The men nodded. The suit said, “Absolutely.”

“By you, Comrade Yie,” added the general.

Chung-Cha noted the barely veiled hostility behind the man’s words. She thought that he should be more subtle.

“Is it feasible to expect one person to be able to kill all three at the same time?” she said.

“You have been presented to me as a great warrior, Chung-Cha; do you not live up to your reputation?” asked the general in a taunting tone.

She

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