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The Target (Will Robie 3)

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“Coffee.” He looked at Robie and Reel. “You two want anything to drink?”

Reel shook her head, her lips pursed, her arms folded in front of her. Robie said, “No, thanks.”

Tucker waited for the aide to bring the coffee and leave, closing the door behind her. Then he turned to them after taking a sip.


“I understand that you both made it through the Burner Box with flying colors,” he said pleasantly. “Congratulations.”

“Does that mean we’re done?” asked Reel.

Tucker seemed surprised by this. “Didn’t the DD tell you?”

“She said a mission was coming and things had to be sped up,” answered Robie while Reel simply stared at the DCI.

“Well, I might not have been entirely clear with her,” conceded Tucker.

“And why isn’t she in this meeting?” asked Robie. “She runs the ops.”

“She doesn’t run all the ops,” corrected Tucker. “I’m the DCI.”

“So what’s the mission?” asked Robie.

“Yes, what is the mission, Director?” asked Reel pointedly.

Tucker took another swig of his coffee, uncapped the water, and took a drink from that too. Both Robie and Reel saw the beads of sweat on his forehead although the room was very chilly.

“I wanted to tell you personally,” began Tucker. “Heightened rules of secrecy will apply to this.”

“So high the DD isn’t in the loop?” asked Reel.

Tucker licked his lips. “I didn’t say that.”

“So who is the target?” asked Robie.

Tucker indicated computer screen panels built into the table in front of them. He hit some keys on his panel, and the screens in front of Robie and Reel came to life. They looked down at them and saw a photo of a man there.

Tucker said, “His name is General Pak Chin-Hae. He is vice marshal, chief of the North Korean Army’s general staff, and he helps to run the Central Military Committee, arguably the most powerful body in the country.”

“And he’s the target?” asked Robie. “Why?”

“You don’t have to know why, Robie,” snapped Tucker. “Have you learned nothing while you’ve been at the Burner? You follow orders. You don’t do analysis. Your job is to pull the trigger, not question those who tell you to do so.”

A few moments of silence passed before Tucker said, “I’m sorry. We’re all under a lot of pressure. We need to work together. Just be assured that this target has to be eliminated. It’s in the national security interests of this country.”

Robie looked over at Reel. She said, “Okay, he has to die. Does this mean we go to North Korea? If so, how do we get in and how do we get out? Or is that not in the game plan, the ‘getting out’ part?”

Tucker cleared his throat. “I understand the concerns you might have after Syria.”

“That’s good to hear, sir,” replied Robie.

“But I met with you before to assure you that this is not personal. This mission is for the greater good. Nothing gets in the way of that.”

“So, where is the target?” asked Reel.

“The target will not be in North Korea.”

“Where, then?”

“He’s currently in France. He traveled there for a medical procedure. The hit will take place there.”

“A medical issue and he went to France?” pondered Robie. “Why not China? Or Russia? They’re buddies with Pyongyang.”

“I really didn’t bother to find out why,” said Tucker curtly. “And hitting him in either of those places would have been far more problematic and perhaps resulted in dangerous international turmoil.”

“We’re taking out basically the number two guy in North Korea and you don’t think there’ll be international turmoil?” said Reel incredulously.

“We’re not going to announce that it’s us, for God’s sake,” said Tucker. “We’re not the only enemies that North Korea has. There’s a long list, actually. And that cover I think will be enough.” He added, “We’re going to lay the blame elsewhere. We might very well lay it at the feet of North Korea itself. Un has many internal enemies. It’s not a stretch to think one of them could have plotted against him and he took his revenge. No one will find out we did it.”

“When is all this taking place?” asked Robie.

Tucker took another sip of coffee and fiddled with the top to his bottled water.

“You leave tonight.”

Robie and Reel both stared at him incredulously.

Tucker finally lifted his gaze to meet theirs. “I understand that it’s not the usual amount of time for an op like this.”

“It’s not even close, actually,” said Robie.

“The SEALs did bin Laden on short notice,” the DCI pointed out.

“The target site there had been under eyes for a long time. There were plans. The squad was ’coptered in. They hit hard and fast. There was no cover-up or finger pointing. We wanted the world to know we’d done it,” Robie responded. “What you’re asking from us is far more challenging.”

“Yes, I admit that is a difference,” said Tucker.

“What sort of support will we have from the locals?” asked Robie.

“None,” said Tucker. “You’re going in naked.”

“And the exit plan?” said Reel. “You never really addressed that.”

“There is an exit plan.”

“You’re sure about that?” asked Robie.

“And with no local help?” Reel added.

Tucker’s features darkened. “You managed to get out of Syria and back home without the benefit of any local help,” he barked, momentarily losing his temper. He took another gulp of water and wiped his face.

“And the margin for error there was so narrow as to be nonexistent,” said Robie. “We hoped for better this time around.”

“There will be assets there to help you. Our assets. We will get you out. That I promise.”

Reel leaned forward and studied him. “And why the change of heart, Director? You go from waterboarding us to try and get a signed confession to being concerned for our personal welfare.”

“I already explained that to you,” Tucker said in an exasperated tone. More calmly he added, “Things have changed.”

Reel sat back. “Yes, I think they have. This isn’t the original mission you’d envisioned. Something happened and now we’re being sent in to clean up a mess.” She leaned forward again. “So what was the original mission?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” replied Tucker.

“Sure you do. It’s as plain as the spooked look in your eyes and the beads of sweat on your forehead.” She paused and added, “Does the president know?”

Tucker rose and gripped his coffee. “You’ll receive training briefs in a few minutes. Once you get to France you will do a practice scenario and come up to speed on every aspect of the op. You will do the hit and you will return home.” He paused. “You do that,” he said, staring directly at Reel, “and all will be forgiven.”

Reel stood too and looked directly back at him.

“That’s very nice, Director, only I don’t remember asking for your forgiveness.”

Chapter

27

EARL FONTAINE ROLLED OVER IN his bed and looked at the man opposite him.

“Hey, Junior,” he said. “Junior? Junior, wake your ass up.”

Junior finally stirred and looked over at him. “What?” he said dully.

“Hear your butt’s going back to death row today.”

“Huh, where’d you hear that, old man?”

“Keep my ears open. Don’t just sleep all day like you do. You got to enjoy life, boy, while you can. Pretty soon all you’ll be doing is sleeping six feet under the ground with mold growing on you.”

Junior snorted. “Being cremated, dumbass.”

“They gonna sprinkle your ashes where you come from? Which outhouse is that, Junior?”

Junior rattled his chain ominously. “You lucky I’m over here and



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