The Medusa Files

By Andrew Lowe

Three women from a xenophobic society fight childhood indoctrination with the irrepressible human desire for freedom. Under the cover of darkness, specialist agents force a defector back to North Korea. Her fate seems inevitable, yet in the face of death she remains utterly defiant. Her name is Ti-woo. A South Korean detect

• Language: English
• Publisher: Andrew Lowe Publishing
• Release date: May 3, 2016
• ISBN: 9781910852972

Book preview

1

Weary from the journey , Ti-woo just managed to push herself up from the bed until she was able to peer through the small porthole. She could make out faint, distant shore lights disappearing from view. There was a slight smell of fuel oil, the unmistakable drone of powerful twin diesel engines under full throttle, and the intermittent pounding on the underside confirming the boat was rapidly passing over undulating water towards its final destination. It was something she thought would never happen, but perhaps deep down she knew there was never going to be a happy ending. Somehow they would always get you. The old Soviet mantra Kim Jong-il loved to quote, ‘Wherever you are, wherever you go, we will always find you’, swirled around her head repeating itself, each time with renewed force and psychological impact, just as it had been designed to do. Just like the stories handed down over the years, from the Trotsky assassination onwards. North Korea adopted and practiced this brutal principle and it was applied to the many who didn’t get out, and some of the few who did. It was unremitting and total. Years could pass, she thought, yet the result would always be the same.

The cabin was pitch black and now, on her feet, she gingerly felt around the walls until she found a light switch. She flicked it back and forth a few times, nothing. She guessed they’d switched off the power to prevent any light exposing the boat’s position as it made its journey towards the legal waters of North Korea. She threw off her shoes, lay back on the bed, and pulled a solitary thick blanket up to her neck. The bed felt damp and the surroundings cold as occasional wisps of moist air gently wafted around. She turned onto her side. The half-light of a dim moon tried to pass into the cabin through a water-streaked porthole. Her eyes began to water. She wiped them, whispering to herself, ‘Take care son, I love you so much… Maybe I could have taken them. What if… What if…?’

‘Ti-woo, you’re required, come.’ She woke abruptly to see a woman standing in the open doorway, shining a flashlight directly into her eyes. Seconds later she was on her feet. ‘Look, your shoes are here!’ the woman said, indicating just under the end of the small iron-framed bed.

‘No gun then?’

‘You won’t cause problems. We’ve people in the area of your home. Try anything and you know what’ll happen.’ Ti-woo remained silent but her gait spoke volumes as she stood up. She was a broken woman, going back to her past, going home to be a conformist… That was the very least she could expect.

A few moments later they arrived on deck. Another woman, wearing a thick coat, was standing above them on the fly bridge. Ti-woo could see she was slightly older, and even from that distance could discern the long scar that ran down the right side of her face. Next to her was a middle-aged man and a young, frightened-looking boy. The man at the controls scanned the instruments, the soft green light from them illuminating his ruddy face. He was expressionless, with almost stone-like deportment. He looked away from his instruments for a few seconds as he noticed Ti-woo. The woman beckoned her up the stairs. Once on the fly bridge Ti-woo looked around, they were traveling fast and close to the shoreline, the boat was in complete darkness with no navigation or deck lights. She knew exactly what they were doing. The small waterway was difficult to cross, but if they were quick enough and could avoid South Korean coastguard vessels, within a few minutes they would be in North Korean waters.

Something instinctively made her turn on her heel. The stone-faced man was a split second away from plunging a knife into her, and she reacted instantaneously. They struggled for a few seconds before his body went weak and he slowly fell to the floor, blood pouring from his chest. The boy began screaming. Ti-woo turned to look at the woman who had taken control of the wheel during the struggle, pushing the throttles back sharply and causing them all to lurch forwards.

‘Why, why did he do that?’

‘Because we told him to, that’s why!’ Ti-woo looked at the man’s lifeless body, the boy sobbing as he held on to the man’s crumpled frame. His father? Ti-woo thought.

‘What are you talking about, why would he try and kill me?’

‘Look behind you…’ she replied.

Ti-woo spun around, the other woman was standing halfway up the rungs from the lower deck, and was holding a small camera.

‘We’ve got everything now; you killed an innocent man trying to protect his son and then stole his boat. The film will be enhanced with some creative editing, and will soon find its way to the South Korean authorities.’

‘But he could have killed me!’

‘I doubt that. However far you have traveled, and whatever parts of your life you’ve tried to hide away, you’re still one of us. I watched the way you reacted; you’ll always be one of us. And now you’re coming home.’

‘You scum!’ Ti-woo shouted, tightening her grip on the knife she was still holding. ‘Please don’t!’ The woman pointed a small bore pistol directly at her. Ti-woo dropped the knife. The woman moved away from the controls and picked it up, then smiled. Ti-woo looked at the boy with tears now streaming down his face. ‘What about him?’

‘Don’t concern yourself, just get down there.’ The woman gestured to the lower deck, and to reinforce the point fired a shot directly over Ti-woo’s shoulder. ‘Move it!’

Ti-woo slowly made her way down from the fly bridge to the main deck, the other woman then pointed down towards the lower cabins.

‘Back to your room; now!’ she barked, following Ti-woo closely and pressing the gun hard into the small of her back. Just as Ti-woo entered the tiny cabin she was thrust forwards into the dark. The door slammed shut and a lock clicked behind her. A few minutes later a gunshot rang out. Realizing what they’d done, she kneeled down and cried. The boat suddenly pitched up as the engines were taken back to full power. Lying back on the bed, Ti-woo knew that the nightmare was only going to get worse.

The boy and his father were thrown overboard, two quick splashes barely audible over the noise of the engines. With the boat in close proximity to the South Korean coast there was no doubt the bodies would soon be found. Her captors’ plan was coming together. The video of Ti-woo would eventually find its way to the South Korean authorities, via a media outlet with a short note explaining that she had agreed to return to the North…

…She contacted me, anonymously at first, about her intentions to return home. She wished to explain her reasons, so I arranged to interview her. We agreed to meet late one evening at Youdong marina, where I was invited aboard a small boat belonging to a local fisherman. She had apparently bribed him to take her as far as the maritime border to rendezvous with another vessel. She agreed for the interview to be filmed, but as I set up the camera a fight broke out, and during the ensuing struggle Ti-woo killed the boat’s owner. In fear of my own life I jumped off the boat and ran as fast as I could. Wishing only to do my civic duty, I send you this note and enclose the short film, which I believe should be passed to the South Korean authorities. To retain my anonymity and thereby protect my sources, I leave the note unsigned.

Musan would be the first place the North’s civil information team would set to work, spreading stories of how she’d been recaptured, the propaganda and the deterrent value was priceless. The regime operated on fear, and the higher the factor the better complicity it engendered.

Drifting in and out of a wretched sleep, Ti-woo opened her eyes and discerned a considerably lower pitch of the engines. The thudding from the underside had been replaced with smoother, shallower movements. The boat had given up its urgency; her journey was nearly over. For a while she continued with these fits of disturbed sleep. About an hour had passed when the first streaks of sunlight entered the small cabin. Ti-woo looked through the rain-streaked porthole. It was a clear, early morning and the sea was calm. Gradually the light began to brighten the surroundings, and in reverse increments her heart sank. Sitting at the corner of the bed she looked around. The cream-colored walls were cluttered with pictures, mostly fishing expeditions of the man and his son. A small table lamp sat slightly off-center next to the bed, and fixed on the opposite wall an overflowing bookshelf. A latticed pine door stood half open, leading to a small, white-tiled bathroom with a glass shower cubicle. It all seemed rather homely, but she was acutely aware it was going to be the last bit of comfort she’d see for a long time.

Her next enclosure would be a complete antithesis. She was preparing herself for a living hell, of that there was little doubt. Only the thought of her son Nam would sustain her. It was just then the lock turned and the door opened. A woman entered her cabin; in one hand she was holding a 9mm automatic pistol, in the other a small bundle of clothes.

‘My name is Me-li. Soo-han and I had orders to bring you back to our glorious country, that mission is nearly over. Take these, now get washed and changed quickly. In ten minutes we’re being picked up. I warn you again; don’t try anything. We’re in our country’s territorial waters now.’

‘Your country. It’s not mine anymore.’ Ti-woo replied sharply.

‘You’re just a traitor. You killed one of us back at Musan, but you’ll get your recompense. Once you’re incarcerated you’ll wish that fisherman had killed you.’

‘Perhaps so, but I can hope my son is taken to America. His father Greg had money, so his life will be good. But yours? Look at yourself !’ She gestured, her voice full of disdain. ‘A sad indoctrinated mindless thug, what good’s your life?’ Me-li glared at her, stepped backwards a pace, and grimaced.

‘I never betrayed my country.’

‘No, our country betrayed us! You know the truth; you know what life’s like in the South. The wealth of that country is beyond your narrow imagination, but go on believing the propaganda if you wish. As an evil, genocidal bastard from another regime once said, the bigger the lie, the more people believe it.’

‘Spare me the philosophy and just get ready.’ She backed out of the room, slamming the door shut, the lock turned and Ti-woo heard the sound of Me-li’s footsteps upon the wooden decking fade.

Ti-woo was deep in thought, memories of her lover – the father of her son – flashed into her mind. She was unsure if these were the two who had killed him and faked his suicide a year earlier. Regardless, the threats they had made to her son if she refused to return would justify their deaths, should she get the opportunity. She knew though that for now, all these thoughts were pointless. After a brief shower she dried herself then opened the small bundle. Inside was some worn-out underwear, a shabby and creased skirt, dark khaki in color and with a distinctive bad odor. There was pair of scuffed, flat black shoes, thick flesh-colored tights, a stained white blouse, and a small red scarf. Finally, an ill-fitting gray army tunic with all its previous military badges and epaulettes removed. Ti-woo dressed herself; she gave a glance towards her old clothes and pondered her fate. She guessed the boat had managed to avoid the South Korean coastguard; her captors had planned well by traveling at night, hugging the coastline then at the last moment making a beeline dash to cross the maritime border. The paradox of the whole situation amused her; wishing to escape to North Korea was utterly preposterous, but tonight she had reluctantly joined a rare group consisting of oddballs, deluded cranks and the occasional criminal who, for the most inexplicable of reasons believed they could start a new life in the most xenophobic and isolated country on the planet.

---

Looking through binoculars, Soo-han scanned the horizon. They had entered North Korean waters and soon would make rendezvous with a naval frigate, but for their plan to be complete there needed to be a final coupe de grâce for Ti-woo. She guessed they were now probably under observation from Yeonpyeong Island, which had long been a cause of dispute between the two countries. Both naval forces kept a large presence in the area and it was well guarded. But with skill, daring, and a small powerful boat traveling fast at night, Soo-han and Me-li had achieved their objective.

Soo-han placed the binoculars on the panel in front of her and pulled the engine throttles back to idle. The boat slowly came off plane, the bow gradually settling down into the water. Soo-han’s long black hair was tied up and bundled on top of her head, her face weather-beaten from the journey. She was damp and cold but her mind remained fully focused, for these women would never admit pain, never admit defeat; years of indoctrination and military training at the highest level had honed them into efficient soldiers. The fate of the boat owner and his son would not enter Soo-han’s sphere of emotion. It was just a necessity, a requirement; her priority was the end result. She looked down to the central deck, calling to her comrade. ‘Me-li, call Ti-woo, bring her here.’

Soo-han turned back, picked up the binoculars and resumed her observations of Yeonpyeong Island. She could see the sudden increase in naval activity and knew that one of North Korea’s boats was closing in. As Ti-woo appeared on deck, Soo-han looked down at her from the fly bridge.

‘Not so fancy now are we?’

‘Oh so you agree, clothes from the South are fancy?’

‘Don’t be smart,’ came the curt reply, then Soo-han called to Me-li: ‘Get her to make the call.’

Me-li pulled out a small cellphone. ‘We want you to speak into this,’ she said as she cautiously passed it to her. Taking hold of the cellphone, Ti-woo looked upwards; Soo-han was pointing her gun directly at her. Me-li fumbled around in her other pocket, pulling out a piece of folded paper, then extended her arm towards Ti-woo. She considered engaging her, but knew Soo-han would not wait for a clear shot, and probably would just shoot them both. Realizing she had no choice, Ti-woo pulled the paper from Me-li’s hand and glanced over it.

‘Now read out exactly what’s on that paper into the cellphone or we’ll kill you right here,’ Me-li said. The cellphone was already active, and seconds later a deep male voice emanated from it: ‘This is Frigate NK 266, please confirm intention and position.’ Ti-woo looked up from the paper she said nothing. Seconds passed… Soo-han pulled back the hammer on her 9mm pistol; the click seemed to reverberate around the whole boat, a slight breeze blew Ti-woo’s hair across her face. With her skin now taut and ashen and a feeling of helplessness washing over her she took a deep breath. Me-li reached for her pistol, drawing it from her rear pocket and bringing it down to the side of her right leg. A few more seconds passed.

Ti-woo put the cellphone to her mouth, and looking back down at the paper began to read: ‘This is Miss Ti-woo. I’m in a small blue and white fishing vessel. I’ve just entered our territorial waters and wish to be picked up. I’m returning to our glorious country. Will you assist please?’

‘Repeat message. Please repeat message and state your position,’ came the staccato reply. Ti-woo read it out again, slowing her speech but increasing the volume of her voice, then passing the exact coordinates.

‘Copy. Please cease this communication and stand by. Do not move your vessel!’ The cellphone went dead. Ti-woo was ordered to pass it back to Me-li who reached out with her free hand, but Ti-woo intentionally dropped it, landing with a small thud on the deck. Neither one of them moved.

‘Step back,’ said Me-li as she raised her pistol.

‘Get back Ti-woo, now!’ Soo-han called, taking direct aim at her head. Ti-woo stepped slowly backwards and smiled. ‘Still bother you both don’t I?’

‘You know it’s over Ti-woo, don’t be stupid,’ Me-li said, then carefully kneeled down, picked the cellphone up and dropped it into her top jacket pocket.

‘Sit over there!’ She waved her gun again, indicating a polished metal table with two high-backed leather swivel chairs secured to the decking. Ti-woo walked six steps backwards, gave a swift rearward glance then sat on one of the seats, placing her hands on the table and looking out to sea. Her face showed no emotion, but inside she felt like an utterly broken woman.

‘Now we wait.’ Soo-han said, replacing her gun. Seconds later she shut down the diesel engines, removed the keys and tossed them overboard.

They had planned well, all the pieces of the puzzle were falling into place. They would soon complete an elaborate deception, implicating Ti-woo as a returning hero who had duped the authorities in the South and had probably been spying on various sensitive installations all along. Ti-woo was still under a degree of suspicion that she had killed her lover Greg, even though she had been cleared in a police investigation and subsequent inquiry. But now with this web the Medusa women had weaved, the death of the father and his son, the film footage from the boat, her cellphone call confirming the naval pick-up, she was finished, her reputation in tatters. Added to which, once the story got out, the South would be on their guard against any high ranking military personal escaping the North and claiming they wanted a new life. They would be viewed with the utmost suspicion. Back in the North the whole story of how she wished to return and eventually made it back would spread throughout the military community like wildfire, and eventually to the population as a whole. Kim Jong-il’s grip on power and his party’s absolute command of military discipline had just ratcheted up few more notches.

The silence was interrupted by the occasional crackle on the boat’s radio. The South Korean coastguard had identified the hijacked vessel and begun hailing them. By this point they realized it was probably a fruitless exercise, but it continued in sporadic bursts until, bored with the drab, monotone message, Me-li ripped the power input plug from back of the ship-to-shore radio. As Me-li turned she could see Ti-woo from the corner of her eye continuing to observe her.

‘What did you say to make him attack me?’ Ti-woo shouted over to her.

‘We told him that after he agreed to help us—’ Me-li replied.

‘Agreed to help you? He was in fear for his life and his son’s!’

Me-li moved closer to her. ‘As I was saying, after he was persuaded to help us we gave him an option. If he killed you we’d release him and the boy, and you would’ve gone back a dead woman.’

‘But you knew what the outcome would be, didn’t you?’

‘As you know we would have liquidated him and the boy in any event, but this way makes a good conclusion for us. Neatly framed, I think we can say.’

Ti-woo stared icily at her, and was about to reply when Soo-han called down from the fly bridge.

‘They’re near.’ Through her binoculars she could discern the shape of a large naval vessel heading directly towards them from the headlands that jutted out from the port of Haeju. The ship had been moored there for some time awaiting their pre-arranged call, now it was steaming at full power from five miles distant, Soo-han called again: ‘Approximately fifteen minutes away.’ Ti-woo showed no emotion, looked away from both of them. She stared into the distance at the approaching ship, its sharp bow cutting through the waves and emitting heavy thick smoke from two large funnels as it cruised relentlessly towards them. Ti-woo imagined some unseen force would prevent it reaching them, but as she watched it gradually closing in she realized that this was a forlorn, desperate hope. Eventually the boat slowed, then, turning its starboard side towards to them, stopped; it was now less than a quarter of a mile away.

A powerful launch appeared from the side of the frigate and began to close in, pulling alongside the small boat with six soldiers in uniform and heavily armed, the captain brought the launch in close. One of the soldiers threw a line, which Me-li grabbed, all the time Soo-han watching Ti-woo from her higher vantage point. Four of the soldiers jumped on board, one carrying a large steel fuel container. A brief, intense, and frantic conversation took place. Its cadence quickened with each sentence and one of the officers gesticulated wildly. But it was just their usual military tactics, making a big show, speaking in loud bursts and flashing their weapons. All part of a carefully calibrated act, designed purely to intimidate. Ti-woo remained seated on the central deck when one of the senior soldiers approached her, the two others standing either side of him.

‘You’re now under arrest by the military authorities, and under direct orders from our Dear Leader you are to be taken to our waiting frigate and we will make steam to Nampo. From there you will be taken by road to Pyongyang. Make no attempt to escape or you’ll be shot, further you’ll put these handcuffs on.’ Ti-woo stood up, gave the slightest shrug of her shoulders. She was handcuffed and then led away by the other soldiers.

Before leaving, Soo-han poured all the fuel from the container over the boat’s lower and middle deck then stepped off into the launch. They moved away and waited; she pointed a flare gun at the fishing boat and fired. Once they all transferred onto the frigate it turned and steamed away.

---

They were just beginning to earn a decent living from fishing parties, but now the small boat that had been a middle-aged man’s dream for himself and his son was gone. Two lives destroyed. The boat, burning ferociously, in the waters of the Korean Bay slowly sank. Just before disappearing, it produced a blast of steam as the raging fire was finally engulfed by the calm blue waters, then it was gone forever.

2

‘W elcome back to North Korea , Ti-woo. We’ve missed you. In fact really I should say welcome home !’ The man was short, and wore steel-rimmed glasses that sat slightly askew on his face; the thick lenses accentuated his already bulbous nose. His hair was receding and gray in places, and the obvious unevenly applied hair dye created random shades of dark and light at odd points. His face was bloated and almost perfectly circular in shape, and his double chin blended into his neck. With rounded shoulders, a crumpled suit and a narrow tie slightly askew, he was not someone of particular importance, but was certainly trying to give that impression. In his left hand he held official papers, drawing them to his face as she had stopped dead in front of him, flanked by two military officers and four soldiers, and behind this Soo-han and Me-li were approaching. The official moved closer to Ti-woo.

‘Reading my instructions here I’ll be accompanying you to Pyongyang. On the way I will require information. Officially you’re to be debriefed later, however I’m to ask you a number of questions. Now, I have on this…’

Suddenly Me-li appeared to his left; she snatched the papers from his hand and began to read them.

‘Who the hell do you think—?’ The man stopped mid-sentence as she glared at him.

‘Listen to me, you insignificant little man. We’re dealing with this. She is to be taken directly for a meeting with our Dear Leader.’

‘But I have specific orders from…’ He didn’t finish the words. Me-li moved closer, ripped his papers up, discarding the multitude of shreds onto the stony quayside. They fluttered away, some drifting into the water. The official inched towards Me-li, continuing his protestations.

‘Move away from me now or I’ll throw you in there.’ Me-li nodded her head in the direction of the dry dock the opposite side of the quay from where the frigate had just moored. The man, unwisely, persisted, and when Me-li grabbed his hand and twisted it so hard that he fell to the floor, screaming.

‘You bitch! You…’

She released his hand and he scurried off. The two officers briefly looked at each other before the senior one asked:

‘What’s going on, miss?’

‘Don’t worry. He’s just a minor nobody who got his wires crossed trying to make himself look important. Taking her back to the Bureau would probably get him some kind of recognition, or so he would believe.’

‘But those papers he had?’

‘Don’t worry. They were issued by the Bureau but have since been superseded. I’ve just been in contact with them; our Dear Leader wants to speak to her immediately. Now, do you have a problem?’ He glanced at the other officer.

‘No, miss.’

‘Very well. Let’s go.’ With that the three women, two officers and four soldiers walked briskly along the dockside, leaving behind them the sailors who continued to disembark from the boat, and the maintenance teams who had begun boarding via a rear platform. The group stopped beside heavy steel gates – a small, rear exit, well guarded, leading out from the naval base to the main road. Two cars were waiting outside, a uniformed driver in each one. Ti-woo was placed into the rear seat of the front vehicle, still handcuffed, with Soo-han and Me-li sat either side of her. The officers saluted the two women as they closed the rear doors, then marched back into the naval base. The four soldiers cramming themselves into the remaining seats and seconds later the vehicles pulled away.

Ti-woo was on her way and within the next hour would be meeting directly with the Dear Leader. The man who’d ordered the killing of Greg, taken the love of her life away, and destroyed all hope of a new life in South Korea. His tentacles crept into every aspect of life in the North, his word final, his edicts passed down and obeyed without question. A man who is revered like a god, who had women like her trained to kill and always prepared to be killed.

But she had something, something she had gained from all this; her family had started a new life in the South. He could not touch them now. There were no other relatives left alive back here. Most importantly, she had a son. A beautiful boy who would probably grow up without a mother but a boy who would be free. Free to think, to find his destiny in the world. He would be a unique person, not part of some archaic regime where the individual is indoctrinated with the collective ideas of a ruling and brutal elite. Not a cog in a closed society, thinking and living as one brain. She looked out of the window at the passing landscape. What a desperate situation the country was in. If the South was prosperous, the North was a complete anathema, it was a country so disconnected from the world it might as well be on another planet. She shook her head as they passed women sitting on the dusty roadside begging, their clothes just rags. The vast fields and farmlands lay empty and devoid of any useful crops. Others they passed were still using emaciated horses to plough the ground as broken farm machinery littered the fallow fields. It was as she left it, a broken country full of broken people.

‘What are you thinking Ti-woo?’ asked Soo-han.

‘This place, it’s like the apocalypse has been and gone. You can’t even see it, can you?’

‘From my perspective life is good. I’ve more money than I require, an apartment in the city, a car, and plenty of lovers. What do you have, Ti-woo?’

‘Right now nothing, but I’ll always have my son and he’s free, so really I don’t care.’

‘Well I hope you think about him, because if you ever try—’

‘I’ll tell you this, I don’t know what’s to become of me, but before I die I’m going to kill you both!’ The two soldiers in the front remained motionless. The driver glimpsed the rear view mirror, watching Ti-woo’s eyes fixed on Soo-han with an icy stare. No further conversation took place as the car continued its journey. Eventually Ti-woo drifted off into a light sleep, interrupted occasionally by the interconnected sounds, from the purring of the engine, the dull whine of a defective transmission and the muffled rattling of suspension joints as they passed over a heavily worn and potholed road.

Ti-woo dreamed that she was at home. It was a bright, warm day and her son was asleep in his pram as she worked in her beautiful, well-tended garden. She took a step back to admire a recent addition to the large and varied collection she had cultivated, the bird of paradise; a flower that was one of her favorites looked perfect. Suddenly a shrill whistling sound broke her reverie. It was Greg, blowing a whistle, pointing and gesticulating wildly. In the distance she could see the bend in the road some half-mile from her home. Tanks were approaching, tanks with North Korean military markings, closely followed by marching women, heavily armed and heading directly to her. When she looked back the whistling had stopped and Greg was gone, the sky turned black…

The screeching sound of the brakes coupled with the sudden lurching forward woke Ti-woo. Her eyes began to focus; the car had stopped sharply, thick dust swirling up from the road.

‘Reverse. You’ve missed the entrance, it’s back there.’ Soo-han said.

‘Sorry, miss.’ the driver replied nervously as he engaged reverse, the car went roaring backwards for about a hundred feet, the gearbox emitting a high-pitched screech.

The brakes slammed when Me-li shouted ‘Stop, turn in here.’ With the car pitching and rolling Ti-woo was now fully awake, full of the bitter-sweetness of her dream, of Greg’s fleeting presence.

They passed a small sentry box after entering the narrow, rough road. It looked like the entrance to a farm, but gradually widened as the surface changed to smooth concrete. She realized where they were heading, to one of the many secret mansions the Dear Leader had all over the country. This one was close to the capital; she guessed only about twenty miles away.

There was no doubt he was in residence. None of the military, or her former unit the People’s Police, would be allowed to debrief her before he had, and she knew why; his vanity. By summoning her to one of his elaborate homes he could enjoy the theatrics of personally interrogating her. All part of the projection of absolute power. She drew a deep breath, pushed her legs forward and stretched her whole body, cat-like. She was ready now; ready for whatever would be her fate.

The car pulled onto a large circular graveled entrance. In the center was a fountain spewing water high into the air before it cascaded back down into a large, crystal-clear pool. Ti-woo guessed it would probably contain various species of fish, but from that distance was unable to see. The mansion was set back some two hundred feet. Wide and spread over three floors, its colonial style exuded opulence and grandeur. Her eyes worked downwards from a bright red, freshly-tiled roof, below which Ti-woo counted ten windows, all with heavily embossed frames that gave the facade of the two upper floors a perfect symmetrical balance. The ground floor had fewer windows, but was much wider, with heavier concrete frames and elaborate sculpted cornices, enhanced with small figurines formed into the masonry at regular points either side of a magnificent columned entrance. Painters were busy at one of the windows to the far end, and the gardens were alive with workers, some tending to flowers and hedges, others using grass cutters and other maintenance machinery, it was a hive of intense activity.

Wide granite steps rose towards a large marble platform, from there, incrementally narrowing in width, they eventually reached a palladium-style entrance. Behind the thick columns an ornate tiled floor led to a pair of colossal, heavily inlaid wooden doors flanked by two soldiers, with many more on patrol in the surrounding gardens.

Two black government vehicles parked in front of the imposing entrance left her in no doubt he was in residence. One was the Dear Leader’s bulletproof limousine, the other for his entourage and guards; both were protected by four soldiers. Soo-han and Me-li got out of either side of the car, Ti-woo, still with her handcuffs emerged awkwardly, soldiers taking hold of each arm, and suddenly they were ascending the large steps.

---

The room was deathly quiet. Ti-woo looked over at the table in the far corner. He had his back to her and was slowly and methodically eating from a small china bowl. She stood, not moving, her mind in a partial limbo, although she was aware of eventually how