Kurt nodded and offered a slight bow of thanks. “It’s a beautiful weapon. Thank you.”
A smile crinkled El Din’s weathered face. “May peace be upon you,” he said.
“As-salamualaykum,” Kurt replied.
With El Din’s influence, Kurt and Joe bypassed security and boarded their plane.
The Korean Air A380 double-decker was spacious, which would serve them well on a flight that would span nine hours gate to gate.
It was a long trip, and by the time they reached Seoul, the whole world had changed. The blinding sunlight and heat of Dubai were gone, replaced by a cold, misty rain. The nature of their mission evolved as well, though for the minute neither Kurt nor Joe were told how or why. But instead of a rent-a-car and the next step in their privateer’s underfunded journey, they were met at the airport by three men in dark suits and mackintosh overcoats.
State Department IDs were flashed. “Come with us,” the leader of the group said.
With little choice in the matter, Kurt and Joe collected their luggage and climbed into the back of a van with diplomatic plates. It took them north.
As the lights of Seoul receded, Joe pointed out the obvious. “If we’re going to the consulate, we must be taking the scenic route.”
“We’re not going to the consulate,” Kurt replied. He knew who the men were. He recognized their style and their tightlipped expressions. T hey were employees of t he company. “ We’ve been shanghaied,” he said, “and we’re not even in China.”
The van continued north for another fifteen minutes until they were nearing the Demilitarized Zone. With the razor-wire fences and guard posts visible in the distance, the van turned east and drove through an unpopulated area filled with trees, huge satellite-tracking arrays, and towers bristling with strangelooking antennas. There were no buildings to be seen.
Eventually the road began to drop. Smooth concrete walls rose up on either side until the van was traveling in a channel twenty feet deep. It cruised beneath an overhang, and the channel became a tunnel lit with orange lights.
Somewhere deep beneath the rolling hills of central Korea, the underground road curved tightly and came to an end. A huge steel door opened and let them into a parking area. They were escorted from the van and led to a command center.
Inside, two men were talking. Both looked rather haggard but in different ways. The first was a Korean colonel in military dress, the second figure was an American. He reminded Kurt of a businessman staying late at the office to finish a big project. He wore a white dress shirt with rolled-up sleeves and a loosened red tie. His jacket rested on the back of the chair next to him.
“I suppose you two are wondering why you’re here and not at the Ritz-Carlton,” he said.
“Actually, we booked the Hilton,” Kurt replied, “though it didn’t quite look like this on the brochure.”
A weary grin came across the table. “My name is Tim Hale,” the American replied. “I’m the CIA station chief for the DMZ. This is Colonel Hyun-Min Lee, deputy director of security for the South Korean National Intelligence Service.”
All four men shook hands and sat down.
“We know who you’re looking for,” Hale explained. “We know why. And we want to help.”
“Why?” Kurt asked. “What’s changed?”
“Your friends at NUMA dove on the wreck of the Ethernet,” Hale said.
“And?”
“No sign of Sienna Westgate or her children.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Kurt said, “considering the shape of the wreck. When a vessel breaks up on the way down—”
“That’s the interesting part,” Hale said, cutting Kurt off. “The Ethernet is sitting on the bottom in one solid piece.”
Kurt narrowed his gaze. He suddenly felt confused. He’d seen the sonar scan. The ship had come apart.
Hale explained what they’d learned. “The report you saw was doctored. Someone tapped into the South African Coast Guard database and changed it. The SACG sent you what they thought was a legitimate file, but you saw what someone wanted you to see.”
“Why?”
“So you wouldn’t dive the ship and find what your friends found,” Hale said. He went on to explain that three bodies were recovered from the ship: two members of Westgate’s crew and his personal bodyguard.
He also told Kurt what had happened to the Condor and the submersibles. “To hack both of those systems and gain such control is quite a feat,” he said. “Especially considering NUMA has stringent safeguards in place.”