Red Shark

They fell back on the bed together. At first Scott wasn’t sure what to do until Fumiko’s mouth was on his, her kisses soft, then more urgent as their tongues touched and danced. He felt her shiver as the intimacy they were suddenly sharing gathered momentum, until her breath was coming in ragged gulps. His mouth moved to her throat, to the pit of her neck, to her small breasts, their nipples hard under a red silk blouse. He put his lips to one of her delicate ears, whispered what he wanted, what he needed.

They undressed quickly, and with an easy, practiced move, Fumiko spread herself open and, looking down into his eyes, mounted him. He sucked in his breath, dug his fingers into the tight flesh of her buttocks, and together they found the rhythm until her urgent gyrations made him peak, then explode. It was good, very good, and they kept at it until he had fully satisfied her, until her long, shuddering climax had tapered off. Spent, she dropped her head to his chest. They lay glued together on the bed in the darkened room, not speaking, just listening to their thumping hearts and still-ragged breathing.

“Jake.”

“What?” He ran his hands over her smooth back and buttocks, delighting in the little hollows and satiny textures he found there.

“You knew this would happen, didn’t you?” she said, her head resting on his chest in the pool of her long, black, silky hair.

“No, I didn’t.”

“The first time we met, you knew.”

“I never think that far ahead.”

“But I did,” she confessed, and kissed him.

He looked into her dark, sparkling eyes and said, “Then I think our professional relationship has come to an abrupt end.”

“It can’t; it has to last at least another seventy-two hours.”

“Then we’ll have to put this on hold till later.”

“That’s a long time to wait,” she said. She eased onto her back and reached her arms up. He rose above her and entered her with long, rhythmic strokes. Afterwards they lay exhausted, arms around each other, until Fumiko’s breathing slowed and he pulled away to let her sleep.

* * *

An escorted Mercedes-Benz limousine hurtled across the Taedong River bridge. The big car swept east past the Monument to the Fallen Soldiers of the Korean People’s Army, then slowed as it approached the entrance to the Student’s and Children’s Palace.

The limousine came to a halt inside the palace’s walled forecourt, where Marshal Jin and General Yi had arrived to witness a Ping-Pong match between students from Pyongyang and Pyongson.

Marshal Jin peered from behind the limousine’s tinted bulletproof glass at staff members and children lined up and waving flags, anxious to greet their new Dear Leader.

Jin turned his gaze on General Yi, while outside, security officers cordoned off the limousine.

“You are satisfied that the weapons have been successfully modified?” Jin said.

“Completely satisfied, Dear Leader. Tokugawa’s technicians in Vladivostok worked wonders to meet our schedule.”

“They should. After all, he pays them handsomely for the work they do. Perhaps we should consider employing some of these technicians to work in our own nuclear laboratories,” Jin observed.

“Russians do not like to give up the comforts their new prosperity provides. They like vodka, not our soju.”

Jin crushed out a cigarette he’d been smoking, brushed ash from his tunic. “They might change their minds when they see what their work has accomplished.”

Yi nodded.

“And the weapons are in Nam’po?”

“Yes. Our technicians there will inspect them and receive instructions on their use from the Russian technicians who installed the krypton timers. Sailing orders went out to Nam’po. Admiral Woo confirmed that the Red Shark will get underway as soon as the weapons are loaded out.”

Jin watched the children wave their miniature red, blue, and white flags.

“What arrangements have you made for moving Kim from detention to Pyongyang?”

“He is most eager to assist in the unmasking of the spy,” Yi said. “But I think it is unwise to move him until he has had a chance to review all the documents relating to personnel working in the Second Directorate. He may be able to ferret him out, and only by promising Kim exile will we keep his mind focused on the task. As soon as we move him to Pyongyang, his diligence will wane, and he will think he has found a weakness he can exploit.”

“I see your point: He stays put until we find the spy.” Jin’s gaze returned to Yi. “Have you made progress finding out who the pig of a spy is?”

“Not yet. But I have ordered the arrests of two translators, one of whom is a woman. They may know something because of their former positions close to Kim. If they do know something, anything, I promise you they will reveal what it is before they die.”