The Pekin Target (q-1) by ADAM HALL

Author:ADAM HALL [HALL, ADAM]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: det_espionage

15: Signals

In terms of driving-time Kimpo Airport was about halfway between Karibong-ni and the British Embassy in Seoul so as soon as we left the temple I asked Li-fei to stop at the nearest service station with a telephone; then I called the number Youngquist had given me in the subway this morning.

I recognised his voice when he came on the line, but we went through a double code-intro routine to make absolutely sure; then I told him I wanted a rendezvous with the director in the field, fully urgent, in the departure lobby on the third floor of Kimpo Airport half an hour from now. He didn't ask any questions and he wouldn't have got any answers if he had; nor was there any doubt that Ferris would be there on time: apart from a few hundred other things, your director in the field is required to make himself immediately available to you at whatever hour of the night or day; the executive is his sole charge and his sole responsibility.

I rang off and went back to the car.

Li-fei didn't say a word all the way to the airport; I think our meeting with the priest had brought the whole thing back to her: this was the time when the sleepless nights would begin, when she'd lie awake and wonder where things had gone wrong for her brother, and whether she could have tried harder to keep him out of trouble, away from Tung Kuo-feng's deadly influence. Nothing would have stopped him, she had told me, and I shall never know why.

She pulled up at the entrance to the terminal building and looked at me and asked: "Will you need me any more?"

"No."

"You must be very careful."

"Yes," I said, "I'll be careful."

I was looking for Ferris but couldn't see him.

"What will you do," Li-fei asked me, "when you find Tung?"

"I don't know."

"Will you arrest him?"

"Something like that."

"Or kill him?"

"I really don't know."

"Whatever you do to him," she said in a small cold voice, "let it be also for my brother."

I got out and she drove away and I watched as she made the turn, with the bright overhead lamps throwing their light across the pale china-doll face at the driving window; then I turned and went through the main doors and took the stairs to the third floor, walking with my head down and turned slightly towards the walls, because they were out there somewhere and ready to try again the moment they picked up my trail.

You'd think my instinct to survive was adequate, but now there was something extra I wanted to live for: if they were going to finish me, let it not be yet, because now I'd got something to do; grant me, 0 Lord, at least the luck of a street dog, and let me endure.

Third floor, because there were fewer people up here and all of them going one way. Two stairwells, exit report gates, two shops, airlines VIP lounge and toll waiting rooms.

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