While he worked, Gregory Donald stood close by with his back against a charred streetlight, his unlit pipe still clenched in his teeth. He hadn't said a word and hadn't looked up from the ground; he was no longer crying and he didn't seem to be in shock, though Hwan couldn't begin to imagine the thoughts that had to be going through his mind.

"Sir!"

Hwan looked up as his assistant Choi U Gil came trotting over.

"Ri thinks he's found something."

"Where?"

"In an alley beside the Sakong Hotel. Shall I radio the Director? He asked to be told everything."

Hwan stepped down from the chassis of the exploded truck. "Let's wait and see what we've got. I'm sure he has his hands full." Explaining the corner-cutting to the President, no doubt.

Hwan followed Choi toward the National Museum on the southern side of the Palace, surprised to see Donald walking after them slowly. Hwan didn't wait for him: he was happy that something was getting through to his friend, and he didn't want to put any pressure on him. Staying busy was all that kept Hwan himself from dwelling on the shattering loss they had suffered.

The wide-W ripple pattern in the dry dirt belonged to a North Korean army boot. There was no doubt about it. "Professor" Ri had suspected as much, and Hwan had confirmed it.

"They lead away from the abandoned hotel," the slight, white-haired chemist said.

"I've sent a team inside," Choi told Hwan.

"The perpetrators appear to have drunk from this"-- the Professor pointed to the crushed and empty water bottle on the floor-- "and then walked toward the sound truck."

The dirt in the alley was dry, but the hot air was still and the residue hadn't moved. Hwan knelt and studied the four complete prints and two partial ones.

"Has everything been photographed?" Hwan asked.

Choi nodded. "The footprints and the bottle. We're photographing the hotel basement now, as there seems to have been some activity there."

"Good. Send the bottle over for prints, and also have them check the mouth for any kind of residue-- saliva, food, anything."

The young assistant ran to the car, removed a large plastic bag and metal tongs from a case, and brought them over. Lifting the bottle carefully, he placed it in the bag and marked the time, date, and place on a white strip at the top. Then he took a work order form from the case, filled it in, put both items in the case, and climbed into the window where a military policeman stood guard.

Hwan continued to study the boot prints, noting that the impression wasn't heavier in front, which meant that the terrorists hadn't been running. He was also trying to determine how much wear there had been on the soles and whether the markings belonged to one boot or many. There seemed to be at least two different right feet, and it struck him as odd that neither showed any wear in the ripples. The North Koreans tended to issue new boots after the winter, when they took the most wear-- hot during the summer.