"And if you learn that he is, what then? What are you going to do?" He pointed to the pipe. "Kill him with that? Or has Op-Center given you new ideas?"

Donald put the pipe in his mouth. "If he did it, Howard, I'm going to tell him that he killed my wife, that he robbed me of my future, and that this must not happen to anyone else. I'll go with very deep pockets, and with the help of Paul Hood I'll find some way to stop this madness."

Norbom stared at his friend. "You mean it. You really think you can square-dance right in and make him see reason."

"From the bottom of my soul I believe it. As much of it as is still alive."

The orderly knocked, entered with their dinner, and set the tray between the men: Norbom was still staring at Donald after the orderly had removed the metal covers and left.

"Libby Hall and most of the government of Seoul will oppose your going there."

"The Ambassador mustn't know."

"But they'll find out. The North will make propaganda hay out of your visit, just as they did when Jimmy Carter went there."

"By then I'll be finished."

"You're not kidding!" Norbom dragged a hand through his hair. "Jesus, Greg, you've got to think long and hard about your plan. Hell, it's not even a plan, it's a hope. Doing an end run like this can upset whatever stage the negotiations are at now. It can destroy you and Op-Center."

"I've already lost what counts. They can have the rest."

"They'll take that and more, believe me. Making unauthorized contact with the enemy-- Washington and Seoul will chow down on you, me, Paul Hood, Mike Rodgers. It'll be a turkey shoot."

"I know this will hurt you, Howard, and I don't take that lightly. But I wouldn't ask if I didn't think I had a chance to make a difference. Think of the lives that can be saved."

The color seemed gone from the Base Commander's weathered face. "Dammit, I'd do anything for you-- but I've put my professional life into this base. If I'm going to chuck that, and write my memoirs in a nine-by-twelve cell, I want you to at least sleep on this. You're hurt, and you may not be thinking as clearly as you ought to be."

Donald lit his pipe. "I'm going to do better than sleep on it, Howard. We'll have our dinner and then I'm going to pay Soonji a visit. I'm going to stay with her awhile, and if I feel differently after that I'll tell you."

The General slowly picked up his knife and fork and began cutting his steak slowly and in silence. Donald set his pipe aside and joined him, the quiet meal broken by a knock at the door and the arrival of a man with a fixed scowl set beneath a shiny black eyepatch.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Tuesday, 7:35 A.M., Op-Center

"This can't happen, this can't happen, this can't happen!"