Without new information from the KCIA and McCaskey's incomplete check on international terrorists, the Task Force recommended in addition that the President work through diplomatic channels to contain and resolve the crisis.

Hood gave the team members thirty minutes to look over the rough Options Paper and insert additional thoughts before he got to work on the final draft. As he finished up, Bugs cleared his throat.

"Sir, Deputy Director Rodgers would like to speak with you."

Hood looked up at the countdown clock; Rodgers had been out of touch for nearly three hours. Hood hoped he had a good explanation.

"Send him right in, Bugs."

Bugs looked like he wanted to loosen his collar; his round face grew red.

"I can't do that, sir."

"Why? Where is he?"

"On the phone."

Hood was reminded of the funny feeling he'd had when Rodgers quoted Lord Nelson. His features darkened. "Where is he?"

"Sir-- somewhere over the Virginia-Kentucky border."

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Tuesday, 9:00 P.M., Seoul

Gregory Donald walked for a while after leaving the Embassy. He was anxious to get to the base, to look after his wife, and to call her parents with the awful news. But he needed time to compose himself for that. To reflect. Her poor father and younger brother would be devastated.

He also had an idea he needed to mull over.

He made his way slowly down old Chongjin Way, past the markets with their brightly colored lanterns, banners, and awnings, all of them alive under the streetlights. The area was more crowded than usual, packed with the curious who had come to look at the blast site, to take pictures and videos and collect mementoes of scrap metal or shards of brick.

He bought fresh tobacco at an open-air stand, a Korean blend; he wanted a taste and smell to associate with this moment, one that would always bring back the aching love he felt for Soonji.

His poor Soonji. She gave up a college professorship in political science here to marry him, to help expatriate Koreans in the U.S. He had never doubted his wife's affection for him, but he had always wondered how much she was moved to marry him by love and how much because it was easier for her to come to the U.S. in his company. He didn't feel guilty thinking that, even now. If anything, her willingness to sacrifice a career that was important to her, to take a husband she barely knew, just to help others made her seem more precious in his eyes. If he had come to realize anything about people in his sixty-two years, it was that relationships between them shouldn't be defined by society, but by the people involved. And he and Soonji had surely done that.

He lit the pipe as he walked, the glow of the flame playing off his tear-filled eyes. It seemed like he should be able to turn around, pick up the phone at the Embassy, and call her, ask her what she was reading or what she'd eaten as he did every night they weren't together. It was inconceivable to him that he couldn't do that-- unnatural. He wept as he waited to cross the street.