Bryn, meanwhile, strode over and opened the back door of the panel truck.
“Get everybody out!” he yelled at his colleague. “Be quick about it!”
The REDI operative in the rear of the panel truck flicked open a switchblade and as he swiftly hacked away at the duct tape bound around the prisoners’ ankles, Bryn told the man up front to disconnect the CB and carry it over to the Winnebago.
The man in Subaru had finished walking his retriever and was heading back toward the parking lot. When he saw the commotion taking place in the other two vehicles, he frowned.
“Hey!” he hollered. “What’s going on over there?”
Bryn cursed under his breath.
“Hurry!” he told the others as he moved away from the panel truck and started walking toward the man with the dog.
“Is there some kind of problem?” the man asked as Bryn approached.
“You’re the problem,” Bryn said, withdrawing his pistol. There was a sound suppressor attached and the gun gave off a muffled pop as he pumped two rounds into the man’s chest. The man died on his feet, a stunned expression on his face, and Bryn was barely able to reach him in time to keep him from keeling onto the sidewalk. The retriever barked faintly and scampered around Bryn as he dragged the man back to the Subaru, then fished through his pockets for keys. He opened the door and eased the man’s body into the driver’s seat, then adjusted the corpse so that it looked as if he were leaning over the steering wheel for a quick nap. The retriever stayed close by, still barking, and when Bryn opened the rear door, the dog bounded into the back seat. Bryn made sure the lock buttons on both doors were pressed down, then tossed the keys to the floor of the car and shut the doors.
The dead man had bled all over Bryn, and a trail of blood led from the car to where the man had been shot. Muttering to himself, Bryn hurriedly crossed the sidewalk and scooped up some dirt and loose gravel from the edge of the parking lot. He sprinkled it over the trail of blood, then scuffed the dirt with his shoes, obscuring the telltale blotches.
By the time he’d finished, everyone had transferred into the Winnebago and Hong was behind the wheel, already backing out of the parking spot. Bryn jogged over and climbed in.
“Let’s get out of here!” he told Hong.
Hong shifted gears and pulled out of the parking lot, just as another vehicle was pulling in. In the back of the Winnebago, the two other REDI agents were retaping the ankles of their prisoners.
“You won’t get away with this!” the owner of the Winnebago shouted at the carjackers.
“No?” Bryn scoffed. He turned his gun on the man and his wife. “You’re of no use to us, so I don’t think you’re going to ever find out.”
With that, the Korean operative pulled the trigger.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Changchon Rehabilitation Center, North Korea
Lim Seung-Whan felt his stomach knotting as Prync Gil-Su concluded his proposition.
“And you don’t even have to know the details,” the prisoner whispered. “All I need is your assurance that you’ll be good for the money we need. We’ll handle the rest.”
Lim couldn’t believe what he was hearing. When he’d just woken up from a fitful few hours of sleep, he’d taken consolation that within twenty-four hours the nightmare he’d plunged his family and friends into would be behind them. And now this: a prison revolt scheduled for the same time that his release from the concentration was supposed to be carried out.
“Does it have to be tomorrow?” Lim asked.
Prync nodded. “We’ve waited too long already. Tomorrow morning will be our best opportunity. We can’t let it get away from us.”
The two men were standing near the far wall of the barracks. The other prisoners were milling around nearby, waiting for the guards to lead them to the mess for the paltry morning rations expected to fortify them for a day’s labor in the mines or poppy fields. Lim had been pulled aside from his family, and he could see both his wife and daughter eyeing him as he confided with Prync Gil-Su.
“I need to think about this,” Lim murmured.
“There’s no time for that,” Prync insisted. “We need to put things into motion. I need your answer now.”
“I have to discuss it with my wife,” Lim protested.
“No, you don’t,” Prync countered. “Not a man like you. You can make your own decision.”
“This affects her,” Lim snapped. “This affects my family. My friends.”
“If it’s their safety you’re concerned about, they don’t have to take part,” Prync assured the South Korean. He gestured at the straw-lined wooden floor beneath their feet.