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Lachlan handed him a plate of bacon and eggs and he squeezed in next to Lily at the cramped dining table.

“Where are we?” he asked.

“Ohio,” came the reply from the front. “On the outskirts of Columbus.”

The RV slowed, turning off the highway and onto a side road. Jason could see a small, rural airport. Several hangars lined one end of a maze of concrete runways. A red crop duster sat to one side, rusting in a field while a white Learjet took center stage.

“So what’s the plan?” Jason asked.

“We’re going to fly that Learjet into the side of a nuclear power plant,” Stegmeyer replied, and with that pronouncement, a perfect morning was ruined.

Chapter 13: Dead End

Lee took the child by the hand, saying, “Come.”

The boy’s eyes looked down as the two of them walked out the door of the administration building. The night air was brisk, much cooler than just minutes before. The temperature was dropping. The rain had stopped. The night was quiet. Lee ushered the young child down the creaking, wooden steps to where Sun-Hee’s brother paced nervously on the gravel.

“This is bad,” the brother mumbled under his breath. “We should be gone by now. The guard will change soon. We should have left him and run while we could.”

The boy looked up at the North Korean soldier, but not with fear. He appeared to be curious, perhaps amused.

The soldier was smoking a cigarette, his rifle slung over his shoulder. Sucking in hard, the hand-rolled paper of the cigarette flared slightly. Bits of smoldering tobacco fell from the tip, drifting lazily to the muddy gravel.

“It’s going to be OK,” the boy said in English, reaching out and taking the soldier’s hand.

Sun-Hee’s brother jumped, jerking away from the child as though he’d received a jolt of electricity. Lee doubted he understood English. Was it that those words sounded so strange in another language that alarmed him? Or did he fear the boy? The man looked panicked, like a wild animal caught in a snare. His hands were shaking, his eyes wide with terror.

“Come,” the soldier said with a tremor in his voice, marching off on the gravel. With his good hand, Lee took the child’s tiny one and followed after the jittery soldier.

They crept along the side of the wooden administration building, staying in the shadows. As they approached the motor pool at the back of the camp, Sun-Hee’s brother held up his hand, signaling for them to stop.

He peered around the corner.

Through the quiet of the night, Lee could hear the soft crunch of boots on gravel.

Another guard was approaching from the far side of the hut.

Sun-Hee’s brother waved, batting at the air behind him with his hand, signaling for them to slip beneath the crawlspace below the admin building.

He was still wearing the general’s coat and Lee thought about trying to bluff his way past the guard, but the child would raise too many questions. This wasn’t some soldier half-asleep on a chair. If the guard looked too closely at him, they were finished.

Lee crouched and began to crawl under the wooden floor, but with his injured hand he was moving too slowly. He’d barely clear the edge of the building before the guard was on them, and the boy would still be in the open.

Sun-Hee’s brother straightened. Out of the corner of his eye, Lee could see he was trying to look natural. He tossed his cigarette on the ground, crushing it beneath his boot.

There was nothing else Lee could do. He had to drop and roll regardless of his injured hand.

“Quick,” he whispered, tucking his right hand up against his chest as he fell on his shoulder and rolled into the mud and dirt. Being smaller, the boy was able to scoot in beside him.

Pain flared through his hand.

Lee crawled forward on his elbows, moving between the concrete support pillars keeping the raised building off the ground. The boy stayed beside him. Lee’s eyes never strayed from the legs of the guard walking up to Sun-Hee’s brother.

“Where have you been?” the guard barked.

“Taking a shit!”

“Ha,” the guard said. “You were gone too long. What were you doing? Laying an egg?”

“Yeah,” Sun-Hee’s brother replied, relaxing and laughing with the guard.

“Don’t leave your route, you big fat hen!” the guard said, extending his metaphor. He laughed at his own wit, adding, “Un-Yong will have you cleaning the latrine if he catches you slacking off.”

“I know,” the brother replied as the guard continued past him, his boots falling with an almost hypnotic rhythm on the gravel, grinding and crunching at a leisurely pace.

Lee crept forward beneath the building, working with his elbows and his knees. He could see the motor-pool across the driveway.

Sun-Hee’s brother rounded the corner. He crouched beside them as Lee wriggled out of the shadows.

“Stay here.”

“No,” Lee whispered under his breath. “This isn’t going to work. If that guy sees the guard inside the admin building is gone, he’s going to investigate and raise hell. Besides, as soon as you start one of these vehicles, you’re going to wake the camp.”