"Something you'd never sell to Congress, the White House, or any other seat of government on the planet," Hood pointed out.

"True," Rodgers said. "Which is why Stevenson also wrote Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. I guess he didn't think human nature could change either. Paul, I'll contact you when we're heading back from Japan. I want to hear what the President has to say about all this."

Hood snickered. "Me too, Paul."

After asking Hood to check with Martha Mackall on a specific word, Rodgers and his men climbed into two of the four trucks that were to take them and Ki-Soo's party into the hills.

As they drove, Rodgers had his hand on the small staplerlike device he'd showed Squires earlier. Every two hundred yards or so, he pushed a small plunger on the back, and then released it.

"That's the EEC locator, isn't it, sir?" Squires asked.

Rodgers nodded.

"What are you doing?"

"Blowing them up," he said. "Trust is nice," said Rodgers, "but caution is good too."

Squires agreed as the open-top truck rumbled through the uneven terrain.

The Sikorsky S-70 Black Hawk flew into the Diamond Mountains as scheduled, the pilot expressing surprise when Squires told him to fly right in and land.

"No ladders, no quick turnaround?" he asked.

"No," Squires said, "set her down. We're leaving like proper gentlemen."

The eleven-seater landed on schedule, the M-60 machineguns ominously silent on the sides. While the men boarded, Rodgers and Ki-Soo made their farewells while Squires looked on.

Ki-Soo made a short speech to the American officers, the words foreign but the meaning clear: he was thanking them for all that they'd done to protect the integrity of his homeland.

When he was finished, Rodgers bowed and said, "An-nyong-hi ka-ship-shio."

Ki-Soo seemed surprised and delighted, and said in response, "Annyong ha-simni-ka."

The two men saluted one another, Ki-Soo holding his bandaged hand stiffly at his side, after which the Americans turned and left. As they boarded the helicopter, Squires checked on Puckett, who was lying on a stretcher on the floor. Then he sat heavily beside Rodgers.

"What did you two just say, anyway?" Squires asked.

"When I was on with Paul, I had him ask Martha Mackall how to say, 'Good-bye and may your home be well' in Korean."

"Nice sentiment."

"Of course," Rodgers said, "Martha and I don't get along too well for all I know, I may've just told him I'm allergic to penicillin."

"I don't think so," Squires said. "What he answered sounded pretty much like what you said. Unless you're both allergic."

"It wouldn't surprise me," he said as the chopper door was shut and the Black Hawk rose into the gradually clearing sky. "Each day that I live, Charlie, less and less does."

CHAPTER EIGHTY-SEVEN

Wednesday, 10:30 A.M., Seoul

Kim Hwan sat on the bed, the back of the mattress raised and the pillow having fallen to the side. He wanted it, though after the physical and emotional upheavals of the last few hours, he seemed to lack the ambition and energy to reach over and get it.