Rogue Commander, Leo Maloney [classic books for 11 year olds TXT] 📗

the left breast pocket, a light green dress shirt, and an olive tie.

On his lap rested his officer’s “wheel hat,” with red piping and a large red star on the peak. His gray hair was cropped close, and his face appeared almost kindly, with smooth skin, half-smiling lips, and gentle eyebrows.

She walked toward him as, to her left, she noticed a group of North Korean officers. They were easy to spot in their subdued, badly tailored, brown dress uniforms—with big red epaulets and huge hats the size of apple pies. She didn’t look at them again as she approached Kung’s low table. He looked up from his conversation, rose, and bowed.

“Ah, Miss Stone.”

“Yes, General.” Lily bowed slightly and offered him her business card, presenting it with both hands in the Japanese fashion. Although Sino-Japanese relations had always been, in the dry, pragmatic terms of the Communist Party, “interesting,” the Nippon ritual of two-handed, bowing, business card exchange was now the preferred norm throughout Asia.

Kung took it and motioned to the empty chair beside the divan. They sat.

“Tea?” He asked, but he didn’t wait for her answer and said something in Chinese to one of the passing tea ladies. The woman placed a steaming cup in front of Lily, and she nodded her thanks and sipped. “So, Miss Stone. I was intrigued by some of your offerings.” He had very fine English and a soft, reedy voice.

“I rather hoped you might be interested,” she said, using her native, lightly lilting accent to her advantage. She placed her briefcase on the table, smoothly opened it as if exacting a choreographed ritual, and presented Kung with a brochure. He flipped through it quickly, then closed it, and smiled.

“I am actually more interested in the items that are not in your catalog. The items that are, shall we say, in special limited editions.”

Lily released her first smile, although she kept it tight, without teeth. She knew the man would not use words like restricted, embargoed, or prohibited. That was not the East Asian way. But limited edition was particularly deft. She only hoped she could be as adroit.

“At Thales,” she said softly, “we are pleased to discuss anything. We are, after all, an ecumenical corporation.”

Kung laughed, but only with his belly. His eyes, however, narrowed, his eyebrows taking on a position that could be seen as shrewd. “I like that word, ecumenical,” he said, although she interpreted his use of the word like as meaning anything but. “Does it mean you have no rules?”

“Or that all rules are flexible,” she countered. She glanced up to find the North Korean contingent turned their way, but she ignored them—focusing only on the general. “We have some new guidance systems, both GPS and laser, that we have recently reclassified as, to borrow your most insightful term, strictly limited editions...in both number and availability.”

Kung’s head rose and then slowly lowered. “Then, I gather, that means time is of the essence.” The general sat back, sipped some more tea and gazed at the ceiling. “I recall this anecdote about Winston Churchill...It was something about morality and commerce.”

“Yes,” Lily said slowly. "I think I know the one you refer to.” When Kung did not reply, “Miss Stone” cautiously continued. “Churchill was at a soiree, was he not, where he encountered a pretty woman and asked if she would sleep with him for a million pounds sterling. When she quickly agreed, he then asked if she would do it for a single pound. She asked if he thought her a whore, to which he replied, ‘We’ve already established that, madam. We’re simply negotiating the price’.”

Kung’s smile widened, and at first, Lily thought he was having an adverse reaction to the tea. But she realized he was silently laughing—quaking.

Lily resisted internally exulting herself, even though she felt certain she had him where she wanted him. But it was at that moment that she dared look away—to see Colonel Shin Kwan Hyo looking down at her.

She hadn’t seen him up close in Seoul. His short black hair was so dense that she couldn’t discern its roots. He had thick arching eyebrows, black eyes, a flat nose, and to the left of his thin lips a white scar that curled up like one end of a handlebar moustache. He looked like a crouching tiger packed in a uniform. His officer’s cap was tucked under his right arm, his thick fingers tapping the brim.

Lily dipped her head politely. Hyo did the same and pulled his gaze from her eyes. Instead, he looked at General Kung and said something in Chinese. The general gestured at the colonel and spoke to Lily in English.

“Miss Stone, this is Colonel Hyo of the Korean People’s Army. Colonel, this is Rosalind Stone.”

“A pleasure,” said Lily.

“Bingo,” she heard Shepard whisper in her ear.

“You are from?” Hyo asked in a tone that sounded like he regularly chewed glass.

“Thales Group, sir.” She plucked out a business card and offered it up, again with both hands. He looked at it as if it were a particularly interesting fire ant and then retrieved it.

“Yes. You make Starstreak.”

“Yes, sir. From the Belfast office.”

“Starstreak?” General Kung inquired.

Lily turned to him. “It’s an HVM, General, a high-velocity missile used in the air defense role. It has multiple variants, such as man-portable, attack helicopter, vehicle, and so forth.”

Kung looked very pleased, as if his own granddaughter had just passed her graduate exams. Colonel Hyo interrupted the exchange.

“I would meet with you,” he said to Lily.

She smiled. “At your convenience, Colonel.”

He turned away, and strode back to his coterie of younger officers, who looked over his shoulder at her as he spoke to them. She saw him examining her business card and then take out his cell phone.

Lily’s pulse started throbbing in her neck. He’s running a check on me. Bloody suspicious bastard’s smart.

“He’s calling the main number,” Shepard whispered in her ear. “No biggie. I’ve got ambient office noise running and Charlotte’s handling the pickup.” Charlotte was another