She had just one chance. If
she failed...Well she couldn’t, no wouldn’t contemplate failure.
Success was the only possible outcome.
The travel through time was
rougher than expected, leaving her dizzy and disoriented, but she didn’t have
time to waste on recovery. She allowed herself to sit for a moment in the pitch
black space, the overwhelming scent of chemical cleaning products adding to her
nausea. She tucked her nose and mouth inside the fabric of her collar, breathing
through it. Using it to filter the air she sucked into her lungs, fighting her
body’s need to vomit.
She hoped her suit held. It allowed
for a limited number of brief spurts of invisibility, vital to her mission. She
would have to use them judiciously.
The North Koreans had to be prevented
from starting World War III tomorrow. Their nuclear missiles must be disarmed,
and their leader dethroned.
She was only one woman and
couldn’t do both tasks. The others would have to tackle the missiles. God she
hoped they’d had a gentler journey and arrived when and where they were needed.
Groping around her, she felt
the rough bristles of two or three brooms, the solid metal of a bucket, and
shelves stocked with plastic and glass bottles and tubs.
She got to her feet, confident
now that she was standing in a broom closet in what she hoped was the palatial
residence of the Supreme Leader of North Korea, sweat trickling down her back.
She ran her hands down over her limbs and torso, to conclude her suit seemed no
worse for the wear, and then she took a deep breath to steady her nerves and
her stomach.
Opening the door just crack,
she peeked out into the large room that functioned as a kitchen fit to feed an
army. The tangy odor of kimchi lingered in the air. It was dark and unoccupied,
the only light that spilling through the lit doorway on the far side, and she
swiftly darted out into the shadows, softly closing the closet door behind her.
Across the room that doorway
beckoned. She knew from her training this door led into the hallway she needed
to traverse to reach the Supreme Leader’s sanctuary.
She touched the button at her
wrist, activating her suit and stepped out into the hallway where armed guards
stood at both ends. She wouldn’t have much time.
Although her suit rendered
her invisible, she could still be heard. She stealthily approached the guard at
the far end of the corridor, pulling the syringe out of her breast pocket and
removing the cap from the needle. She inserted it into his neck, injecting the
sedative as quickly as she could. He collapsed immediately.
As she’d hoped, the guard at
the other end of the hall raced toward his fallen comrade and she ran in the
opposite direction, her footsteps on the carpet camouflaged by his own, passing
him with a gust of wind which he thankfully appeared not to notice.
She reached the sanctuary
door, finding it locked. She retrieved the key from her hip pocket. Her hands
shook as she inserted it into the lock, looking back over her shoulder to the
soldiers. The conscious one was sounding an alarm, calling for help on his two
way radio.
The lock turned and she
opened the door as narrowly as she could squeeze through, darting into the
sanctuary and closing the door silently behind her.
She’d made it only seconds
before the warning light on her wrist showed her suit’s invisibility function
was about to fail. Now it would take at least an hour to recharge before she
could use that feature again. She sighed.
Surveying the room in the
moonlight cast through the small windows she saw comfortable soft sofas to one
side and a large desk near the windows. A door across the room would lead to
the bedroom of the Supreme Leader.
She patted her other breast
pocket to assure herself the syringes containing the poison intended to kill
the Supreme Leader, and if necessary his wife or sleeping companion, were still
in place. Their form gave her a sense of confidence. If she could approach him
in his sleep, it would be easy.
The sudden opening of the
bedroom door proved easy wasn’t meant to be.
Cursing under her breath, she
darted behind one of the sofas before the intruder hit the light switch. Had
the noise from the hallway woken him? She peered around the edge of her cover
to see the Supreme Leader himself, and he wasn’t alone. He wore a bathrobe and had
seated himself at his desk, one hand on the phone. She perched on the edge in
display of blatant sensuality, wearing only a pout on her full red lips.
“Darling, come back to bed,”
she whispered leaning to kiss him temptingly as she took his hand and placed it
on her breast.
He willingly accepted the
kiss but pulled away. “I must know what all the racket is about. If all is
well, we will go back to bed. Okay?” He kissed her again before lifting the
receiver and pushing a few buttons. The one-sided conversation followed.
“What is happening?
He collapsed? Why?
Keep me informed.”
“There darling, you see? One
of the guards collapsed. There is no evidence of foul play and a replacement
has been sent. Now we can go back to bed.”
The consort smiled and stood
taking his hand and pulling him up from his chair. He stepped around the desk.
Then he saw something. His eyes met those of his would-be killer.
“Darling you go on, I will be
right there. There is just one more thing I must do first.”
“But...”
“This is important. I won’t
be long. Go now.”
The consort went into the
bedroom and the Supreme Leader approached the sofa.
The time traveller knew this
would be it. She must kill him now. As he rounded the side of the sofa she sprang
up, syringe at the ready.
They stood facing each other,
eyes locked.
“You know that all I have to
do is call out? You will be shot dead in mere moments.”
She said nothing.
He lunged toward her,
reaching for the arm with the syringe, but she anticipated his move, and
brought it inside and up to his neck, her other hand grasping the front of his
robe for purchase.
She hesitated as she looked
into his eyes, seeing just a man, not the monster she’d been taught he was.
“You’re not the first, you
know. You won’t be the last either,” he taunted.
Her thumb applied pressure to
the plunger at the second he struck her arm away. She had underestimated his
strength based on his small stature. Damn! She held onto the syringe, fighting
to bring it back toward him. He arm wrestled it toward her and she steadily
lost ground.
The cold syringe pricked her skin
before he shoved the plunger home and the icy fingers of death filled her veins.
“Nice try,” he said.
Callously, he left her body there to be dealt with later as he joined his
consort in bed. “Now where were we?”
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