Edge of Defiance Page 4

  His life was exactly as he liked it.

  4

  Somewhere on the shore of the Tumen River, Border between China and North Korea

  Two Weeks Later…

  * * *

  Cassie shivered as the cold wind blew over the Tumen River and sliced right through the thin, threadbare jacket she wore over her sports bra and underwear. She stood on the Chinese side of the river, waiting for her guide to say it was okay to cross. She’d taken off her clothes in preparation, wrapping them in a garbage bag and tucking them into her backpack. She would put her jacket in there before she crossed the cold waters. She shifted from bare foot to bare foot on the icy ground.

  It was pitch black except for a sliver of a moon, making her feel only a little better about standing around in her undies in front of a strange man. Yi Kyung crouched down near the river, clad in only a pair of ragged briefs that hung on his thin frame. Kyung lived in North Korea and made money bringing food in from China on the black market. He didn’t usually transport people but he was willing to try for five thousand yuan. Cassie didn’t trust him and knew he’d throw her under the bus to save himself, but she hoped the promise of more money at the end of the trip would keep him loyal.

  Thank God it wasn’t full winter yet, but the October nights weren’t anything to cheer about. Kyung hadn’t wanted to take her across so early in the season, because only the full cold drove the North Korean guards away from the border for any length of time. He’d told her the bribe to allow her in would be even higher. And there was a greater chance of failure the more guards who were out.

  She didn’t care about the amount for the bribe. She wasn’t risking hypothermia in the dead of winter for a story, even though most of the people trying to escape did exactly that. There were enough dangers on this trip; she didn’t need to add any further complications.

  It had taken her years to track down the information she’d needed for this story, starting with her mother’s memories of escaping North Korea and the people she’d left behind. Then she’d saved money and made contacts in China to find a guide to take her into the forbidden country. It wasn’t as though she were trying to smuggle anyone out. She just wanted to find out exactly what had happened to her father.

  The odds were against her, but even so, this was a story that needed to be told. Not one about a petulant, dangerous leader; not one about nuclear missiles that might or might not have the capability of starting a war. But one about the human rights crisis going on while the world watched.

  She was going to document what actually happened in a North Korean prison camp. And if she was lucky, find out what had happened to her father. Her telephoto lens and night vision goggles would help her tell the story. There were two camps close to this border.

  She planned to go to Hwasong, the political prison camp. It was farther from the border, roughly one hundred and fifty kilometers, but according to her informants, it was the one where her father had been sent.

  Hwasong housed dissidents, as well as anyone who tried to escape the country. And it held their families. The law stated that not only the dissenter was thrown in prison, but also three generations of his or her family, which meant parents, grandparents and children. Whole families went in and were never seen again. Most prisoners didn’t survive a year. Cassie wanted to record the story of what truly happened in those camps.

  “Come now,” Kyung said. “Remember, no talking. No noise. The water will be cold, but don’t make a sound. It will carry.”

  She stuffed her jacket into the garbage bag in her backpack and carried it to the waterfront. Though the river was at most ten feet deep, it was too cold and her pack too heavy to try to swim the hundred and fifty meters without help. Kyung had a makeshift wooden raft. He knelt on it and used a piece of wood as an oar. Cassie clambered on and icy water sloshed over the sides, submerging the raft partway. She knelt next to Kyung and gasped as the frigid water covered part of her shins and her feet.

  He pushed off the shore with his board and the raft lurched. She wobbled and clutched her backpack to her. If she dropped it into the river, she’d have to turn back. There was no way to survive the next few days without her supplies. The guide pushed her head down, motioning her to get flat on the raft.

  Screw that. It was too freaking cold to lie in the water. She’d get hypothermia for sure. As it was, her feet and lower legs ached with the cold, an ache that clawed at her. She huddled as low as she could get by partly lying on her pack, praying the plastic bag holding her clothes inside held against the water.

  Moonlight provided just enough light for them to see the black water around them, and the darker shadows of the shore ahead. If she slipped off the raft into the frigid waters, her guide would leave her to sink into the icy darkness.

  What had she done? Maybe her mother was right and this story didn’t need to be told by her, or at all.

  No. This was a minor inconvenience. She clenched her jaw against her chattering teeth and hugged her pack. It was too late for second thoughts. She just had to push through. The wind gusted and water sloshed as Kyung kept them moving. She wanted to help by paddling with her arms, but she couldn’t bring herself to put her hands into the river, even if it meant getting to shore quicker.

  Maybe coming in the dead of winter would have been a better idea. Most escapees walked across the ice of the river and prayed they didn’t fall through. Though some still fell prey to hypothermia.

  Cassie strained her eyes, searching for any movement on the far side. Movement meant guards and guards meant death. Even in the small amount of moonlight, she and her guide were visible in the middle of the river. Not much farther now.

  The guide’s paddle dipped noiselessly into the water, pushed and came out with only a trickle of dripping sound. So slow. She gripped her backpack tighter, trying to take her mind off of the ache in her legs and the slowness of their voyage.

  Three-quarters of the way now. She could no longer see where they’d come from, and the shore in front of them grew only a bit clearer. The land was flat with only low bushes and reeds lining the riverbank, just dark patches in the shadowy night. In the distance, trees created a blackness that promised a dubious safety. Anything could be hiding in that blackness. Her heart sped up. She was almost in the DPRK. If caught, she’d be imprisoned or killed. The pain in her legs had numbed and she almost considered slipping into the water and swimming back.

  So close now. Only another few strokes.

  Voices drifted over the water to them.

  They both stiffened into statues. A single beam of light swept the ground about a hundred meters down the shoreline. Two guards walked toward them. Her heart, lungs, and stomach tried to claw up her throat. They couldn’t turn back. The guards would see them on the water. They had to make it to shore.

  As if Kyung had heard her thought, he sunk his board into the water and pushed harder, his stroke no longer quite as silent. Cassie put her arms in the water and stroked hard for shore. The freezing temperature of the water was no longer shocking. She dipped her hands and pushed, trying to be quiet, but just wanting to get to the shadow-shrouded land. They’d shoot first and never bother to ask who she was; she’d just sink into the dark water and never see her daughter or mother again.

  The voices got closer. She couldn’t yet hear their conversation but it wouldn’t be long now. Kyung’s breathing turned choppy and hers was just as ragged.

  Dip. Push. Dip. Push.

  They had to make it.

  The guide slid into the water, motioning with his hands to her. She didn’t dare ask him what he wanted, just followed him in. The water reached her waist and ripped her breath from her, but she didn’t make a sound. Her feet slipped on the rocky bottom and she clutched the raft for balance, sloshing the water. She couldn’t see Kyung’s face but he shook his head vigorously enough to get his point across. She began towing the raft with her pack behind her.

  Kyung picked her pack up and shoved it at her. He let t
he raft drift away and moved through the water like an eel: no sound, and fast. She tried to follow but stumbled, barely managing to catch herself. Kyung didn’t stop, didn’t look back. She couldn’t catch her breath and her heart pounded in her ears. They were going to catch her.

  Slow is smooth. Smooth is fast, Cassie. Breathe.

  It was Derrick’s voice in her head. A saying he’d told her once. One she’d forgotten until now. She pictured him there with her. He’d be livid she was doing this, but he’d help her.

  Slow is smooth. Smooth is fast. Move now, Cassie.

  She felt the rocky bed with her foot before putting it down, concentrating on one foot at a time. Almost there. Ahead, Kyung dove into the bushes, rustling them. She wanted to hiss at him to be quiet. The flashlight of the guards had almost closed the distance to their spot on the shore.

  She didn’t run. She couldn’t splash. Slow is smooth. Smooth is fast. She silently chanted Derrick’s words.

  Another two steps closer. The voices were almost on her. She sank to her knees in the freezing water as the guards closed the distance. She placed her pack on the shore in some reeds and slipped down beside it. Water covered most of her body except for her shoulders and head. She buried her head into the side of her pack, knowing her eyes and skin might reflect light if they shined it her way. She clenched her jaw tight to stop it from chattering. Cold numbed her limbs, helping calm her mind. Her heart slowed and now just thudded hard but steady in her ears, an ominous pounding.

  “How much did you get for her?” a man’s voice asked in Korean.

  “Only three thousand yuan. Women aren’t bringing in as much anymore.”

  “Or maybe the women you’re selling are ugly.” The man barked a hoarse smoker’s laugh.

  “Fuck off.”

  The voices didn’t move on.

  “Why are you stopping?” the first voice asked.

  “I see something. On the water.”

  Hands slapped on metal. A rifle cocked. A second rifle cocked. Then silence.

  She didn’t look. Her heart thundered as adrenaline rushed her system. The pressure to move, to run, shoved at her, willing her to get up and swim for the opposite shore. She’d rather take her chances with the river than lie there waiting to be shot. The guards probably had their weapons trained on her right now.

  Easy, Little Wolf. Stay still.

  She clutched at Derrick’s imagined voice like a shield, holding it between her and the men. Or insanity, she thought. Having the voice of her ex in her head, speaking to her, definitely wasn’t a sign of mental stability.

  Focus.

  She didn’t move a muscle. She barely breathed.

  “What is it?” the one man whispered.

  The other cursed. “It’s a piece of wood. Let’s get out of here. I’m freezing.”

  She could barely hear them over the slow thudding of her heart. A minute later, she chanced raising her head. The guards walked down the shoreline in the distance.

  Something moved ahead of her. Kyung crouched low on the shore among the low bushes and motioned to her.

  Her numb limbs didn’t want to move, but fear that the guards would come back gave her the upper hand. She swallowed hard, made sure she had good purchase on the riverbed with her hands and pushed up. She stifled the groan that tried to escape. Kyung motioned again before turning and moving away from the river in a crouched, shuffling run. She grabbed her pack, or at least she tried to. Her numb fingers wouldn’t bend.

  She must have made a noise because Kyung looked over his shoulder and then increased his pace.

  Shit. He was leaving her behind.

  She forced her stiff hands to pick up her pack and wrapped her arms around it. Icy water leaked from it down her front. Shivering violently in a wind that frosted her skin, she managed to step from the river. She didn’t sigh with relief at being on land; she had to catch up to her guide.

  It felt awkward to run on numb feet. She stumbled a bit as though she’d been drinking, not only because she couldn’t feel anything from her knees down, but because in the darkness she couldn’t see the dips and rocks of the land in front of her. She stayed focused on the dark silhouette of Kyung in the distance. Was he outpacing her? She had to catch up.

  Come on, legs, she thought.

  She shambled faster, tripping and falling hard on her knees. Kyung was almost at the darkness of the trees. It was harder to make him out.

  Wait, she wanted to call. Please, wait.

  Lights flickered by the shoreline. The guards were coming back.

  Her breath sobbed out of her. The fear of being left for the returning guards to find—or worse, to have to try to make it across the river on her own—made her get up.

  She clutched her pack, squeezing it to her chest. Faster. Faster. Her feet hit the cold, hard earth again and again and again. Almost there. Dried-out grass brushed her shins. She was getting feeling back. Almost there.

  The trees stood silent ahead. Another few paces. She slowed to a walk, her breath scratching her throat. She reached out and touched the rough bark of a tree. She’d made it. She was in North Korea.

  Kyung was nowhere in sight.

  Derrick stood in the operations room in Edge headquarters in Montréal, briefing his team. Marc Koven, Sarah Ramirez, Dante Moreno, and Dylan Richards would make up the team for this op. He pulled up a map of North Korea.

  Marc made a humming noise. “This is going to be interesting.”

  Derrick ignored him. “We’ve got confirmation that Dr. Adam French, a prominent aerospace engineer and rocket scientist, has been taken by the North Koreans.”

  Dante frowned. “What do the North Koreans want with him?”

  “The North Koreans have tested intercontinental ballistic missiles,” Derrick said, “and we believe they’ve been able to create nuclear warheads the ICBMs can carry, but they haven’t yet been able to manufacture a stable reentry vehicle for those warheads.”

  “So they’ve got a missile that will go up, but not come down?” Dante said.

  Sarah shifted her chair closer. “Yes. Without a stable reentry vehicle, the warhead will burn up on reentry into the Earth’s atmosphere. I’m guessing they think Dr. French will help them with that.”

  “Shit,” Dante said. “Did the Chinese abduct him and hand him to the North Koreans?”

  “We believe so,” Derrick said. “But we can’t confirm that, only that he is currently in North Korea.”

  Sarah tapped a finger on the table. “What was a top-ranking rocket scientist doing in China anyway? Was he a CIA asset?”

  Derrick nodded. “He’d been sent to China to see what he could find out about their nuke program. It looks like he got caught, so they sold him to the North Koreans.”

  “Like I said…interesting.” Marc rubbed a hand over his chin. “Do we know where he is?”

  “Not yet,” Derrick said. “We’ve got satellites covering the area and there are agents in country watching for him, but no news yet.”

  “We expect intel soon?” Dante said.

  “Be ready to go wheels up as soon as we have anything. North Korea cannot be allowed to develop fully functioning, nuclear ICBMs. Their threat level goes to extreme as soon as they do. It’s a headache none of us need.” He nodded to them all. “Dismissed.”

  Marc stayed behind. Derrick looked at him. The man had been on his case ever since they’d come back from Toronto.

  “So you’re really not going to call her?” Marc asked.

  Derrick sighed. “I’m really regretting telling you anything, Spooky,” he said, using the man’s code name. “Just because you’re in a happy relationship doesn’t mean everyone has to be.”

  “That’s not it,” Marc said. “It’s just…you haven’t been the same since Toronto.”

  Of course he hadn’t been the same. He’d seen Cassie, the woman he’d loved wildly, fiercely, and forever. Or so he’d thought. “Like I said, she never wants to see me again.”

  Mar
c crossed his arms. “Why don’t you just call and find out more? You said she’s divorced…”

  Derrick clenched his jaw. “You’re overstepping.”

  “Fine.” Marc grimaced. “I’ll drop it. I just never thought you’d be one to give up when things got tough.” He left the room before Derrick could snap at him.

  And he wanted to snap. He just wasn’t sure whether he was so angry because Marc had intruded on his privacy or because he was right.

  5

  Shivers shook Cassie like a terrier with teeth. But she couldn’t summon the proper energy to freak out. In fact, she no longer cared that her guide had abandoned her. She sank down to the ground and leaned against the tree. She’d just sit here a minute.

  Keep moving, Little Wolf.

  Derrick. She missed him. She hated that she missed him. Seeing him again had stirred up feelings better left buried in the grave she’d thought he’d been in.

  You need to get warm.

  Right. Warm. She needed to get warm. The clips secured the top of her pack. She fumbled with the first one. She couldn’t make her fingers work. The snaps needed pressure to open, pressure her numb, cramping hands couldn’t provide. Her breathing grew erratic. She was going to die of hypothermia.

  Please God, let her clothes be dry.

  One snap opened. She managed the other one and then tore into the pack, past the wet plastic of the interior bag. Yes! Dry fleece rubbed her skin.

  She yanked at her wet sports bra but couldn’t get it off. It clung to her. Slick, icy, stuck. Fuck it. Too cold. She pulled a fleece sweater on over top, hugging it to her skin and taking a moment to hold on to what little warmth she had left. Her teeth chattered and she clamped them shut to stop the noise.

  She grabbed the next item and pulled on dry undies and thick leggings, before pulling on her Gore-Tex jacket. Screw the threadbare one that was supposed to be her camouflage if caught. She needed the warmth of a real jacket.

  Socks were next. Numbness still encased her feet like blocks of ice, which would make it difficult to walk, let alone run. She needed to warm them. Visions of blackened toes assaulted her.