As Hwan stood directly behind her, Kim sat on the green-velvet bench in front of the upright and played several treble measures of a jazzy piece Hwan did not recognize. When she was finished, she lifted the lid and reached inside with both hands. He watched her closely; if she noticed, she made no sign. With both hands, she carefully unscrewed the wingnut on a metal brace, swung it back, and lifted a small radio from the compartment. On the opposite side was a bracket with what appeared to be an explosive device wired to the lid.

Hwan recognized the radio as a state-of-the-art Israeli-made Kol 38. The KCIA was negotiating to buy them as well; with them, the user could reach distances of over 750 miles without using a satellite. One part was for listening, another for receiving, which made it possible for agents in the field to "conference call" with headquarters. The unit ran on lightweight cadmium batteries, which made it ideal for remote locations like this. Even the U.S. models weren't as reliable.

She went to the window, opened it, and set the radio on the sill. Before switching it on, she casually rested her hand on the LED readout on top so Hwan couldn't see the frequency to which it was set.

"If you say anything, it will be picked up. They must not know I've been compromised."

Hwan nodded.

Kim pushed a button and a red light came on beside the condenser microphone built into the top of the unit.

"Seoul Oh-Miyo to home, Seoul Oh-Miyo to home, over."

An operatic code name, Hwan thought. It was somehow appropriate to the Wagnerian events that swirled around them.

After a moment a voice came in so rich and clear that Hwan was startled.

"Home to Seoul Oh-Miyo. Ready. Over."

"Home, need to know if army boots, explosives, and other items have been stolen. KCIA found evidence of same at Palace today. Over."

"How recent was theft? Over."

Kim looked at Hwan. He flashed ten fingers and mouthed month.

"Ten months," she said. "Over."

"Will call with any information. Over and out."

Kim punched off the switch.

Hwan wanted to ask her if these things were computerized in the North as they were in the South. Instead, he asked, "How long might this take?"

"An hour possibly longer."

He held his watch near a candle, then looked out at Cho's dark figure standing beside the car. "We'll take the radio and go back."

She didn't move. "I can't do that."

"You don't have a choice, Ms. Chong." He came closer. "I've tried to show you courtesy--"

"We both gain--"

"No! That keeps us from becoming animals. But I must stay on top of the investigation, and I can't do that from here. I promise that no one will look at your radio display. Will you give me what I need?"

Kim hesitated, then put the radio under her arm and shut the window. "All right. To keep from becoming animals."