The man who would save the peninsula was unable to lift his arm and recover his pillow. There was probably an irony in that, though he was in no mood to look for it.

The dull pain in Hwan's side kept him from sleeping, and the tight bandages made it difficult to breathe. But it was the events of the past few hours that kept him alert. The death of Gregory Donald held him like a nightmare he couldn't shake, yet while it still seemed unbelievable, it also seemed oddly inevitable. Donald's life had ended when his wife was killed-- was it really less than a day before?-- and at least now they were together. Donald wouldn't have believed that, but Soonji would have and Hwan did. So he was outvoted. The atheistic old goat was an angel whether he wanted to be or not.

As Hwan lay there, staring at the brick wall outside his window, Bob Herbert phoned to tell him about the events in the Diamond Mountains, and of the other men involved in the plot-- the two the Striker team had killed at the Nodong site. Hwan knew that it wasn't likely the South would get the bodies of those men back soon, though the North was sure to send them fingerprints for identification.

"We haven't heard a peep out of anyone else," Herbert told Hwan, "so either we got the group or they've pulled in their claws to try again another day."

"I am sure," Hwan said quietly, "that we haven't heard the last of these people."

"You're probably right," Herbert said. "Radicals are like bananas-- they come in bunches."

Hwan said he liked the image, after which Herbert repeated Hood's thanks for the KCIA's efforts and wished him a speedy recovery.

Hanging up the phone and deciding to try to get his pillow, Hwan was surprised to find someone reach over and get it for him. The two strong hands gently lifted his head and slid the pillow under it, fluffing the sides to make sure he was nestled securely.

Hwan's eyes shifted to the side.

"Director Yung-Hoon," he said with surprise. "Where is--"

"Hongtack? On his way, by now, to his new post-- a fishing boat monitoring Chinese broadcasts in the Yellow Sea. He seemed to believe that our different styles were a weakness and not a strength."

"Perhaps you should reserve me a seat next to his," Hwan said. "I feel that way too."

Yung-Hoon winced. "We may have seemed to be working at cross-purposes from time to time. But after today, that won't happen again."

Someone in the government must have leaned on the Director about his handling of this case. It wouldn't surprise him to learn that Bob Herbert or Paul Hood had made a few calls on his behalf. Yung-Hoon had always responded to things like that.

The Director lay a hand on Hwan's. "When you get out of here, we'll see about arranging things differently, giving you responsibilities where you don't have to report to my office--"