The Poksu Conspiracy (Post Cold War Political Thriller Book 2) by Chester D. Campbell

Author:Chester D. Campbell [Campbell, Chester D.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Night Shadows Press
Published: 2012-11-04T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 37

Song Ji-young lived with her mother in an attractive two-story brick home not far from the Hyatt Regency Hotel. Her father was an architect and had designed the house himself. Built along a steep hillside street, it had an expanse of windows that faced the downhill view. The colorful roof was of blue tile. It was near the Itaewon shopping district and not far from the former U.S. Army post at Yongsan. With the troops recently departed, there were numerous vacancies in the apartments that had catered to military families. On learning that Jerry Chan was apartment hunting, Miss Song offered to take him to see some of the available apartments on Saturday morning.

She picked him up in front of the Chosun at ten, and they headed south toward the Namsan Tunnel in her small blue Toyota. Jerry noted, not for the first time, that she was quite an attractive girl. He liked her taste in clothes, which accented an attractive figure. This morning she wore a bright red jacket over a frilly white blouse.

"How is your mother?" he asked as she steered skillfully through the traffic.

"I think she has decided not to become a yollyo. She's almost fully recovered now and thinks of lots of things she would like to do."

His Korean vocabulary was fairly extensive, but she had caught him on this one. "I'm not familiar with 'yollyo,'" he said.

She grinned. "In times past, a woman in her position would usually become either a kwabu—a woman who lives alone after her husband's death—or a yollyo, one who drowns or hangs herself."

Jerry frowned. "She didn't really consider—"

"No, not really. She still has hopes of becoming a halmoni.'

"Grandmother."

"Right. Were you ever married, Mr. Chan?"

"Hey, I know it isn't Korean style," he said, "but we're working for an American company, so let's adopt American informality. Just call me Jerry. Would it be all right to call you Ji-young?"

She gave him a brief look of uncertainty, then shrugged. "I suppose so."

"To answer your question, no. I've never been married. The jobs I've had kept me so busy I hardly had time for a girlfriend, much less a wife."

"That happened to me, too," she said. "My parents and a couple of old friends tried to arrange a marriage for me and their son. He was interested in another girl, and I was too busy with graduate school. We talked them out of the idea."

He was surprised some other young swain hadn't steered her toward the altar. Though he had known her for just over a week, she was the sort of person who made you feel you had been friends for ages. She was quick-witted and confident, willing to take on any task and eager to learn as much as possible about her new job. Unfortunately, that eagerness had its drawbacks in this operation.

After they had agreed the first apartment was not worth the rent being asked, they headed for the next location. Ji-young turned suddenly serious.

"Jerry, the part of Worldwide's operation

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