Devil's Fork

  * * *

  Officer 2135 was almost at the hotel written on the piece of paper Mr. Park had given him. It was on a busy street. He walked through a crowd of children in uniforms on their way to school. 2135 walked into the lobby of the building. The doorman nodded and opened the door for him.

  On his way over, he bought a hat and a red tennis bag. In his training he was taught to bring distracting objects if he needed to walk by a crowd. When people see someone wearing a hat and holding a tennis bag, they focus on the interesting objects rather than facial features or other details about the person. If the police question the crowd later, most people would only be able to say that they saw a tennis player. If asked what the person looked like, most would have difficulty producing anything. 2135 remembered thinking in training how humans are still so similar to animals. Something as simple as a tennis bag can be enough of a distraction. Now as 2135 walked through the hotel lobby, he could feel it working. He noticed anytime someone looked at him passing by, his or her eyes immediately went back towards his tennis bag. Few were looking into his eyes.

  Officer 2135 headed towards the elevators. The elevator door was open and 2135 walked inside alone. He pushed the button for Sung-Ho’s floor. The elevator was silent as it ascended.

  2135 knew what he was going to do. He had decided to use an old self-defense trick, often taught to women who had to walk home alone at night. He was going to use it to attack, however. He pulled out a house key he had in his pocket. He placed the key in his hand so that the blade of the key, or the part that went into a lock, protruded out of his fingers. When he made a fist with his right hand, the jagged edge of the blade stuck straight out, parallel to his wrist. It looked like a spike sticking out of his fist. 2135 had learned in training that if he were to punch an assailant with the blade of the key sticking out, the key would cut into the attacker and cause an enormous amount of pain and damage. It was vital for him to learn this technique because in North Korea, civilians were not allowed to own guns or large knives. If he were ever even seen with a gun or a knife, he could be flagged and arrested. This key technique provided him with a weapon if he had ever needed to use one. During his fifteen years in North Korea, he had never used it.

  When the elevator doors opened on the 30th floor, 2135 walked out with his right hand, and the protruding key, in his pocket. He followed the meandering dark carpeted hallway. He passed door after door looking for Sung-Ho’s suite. Finally he stopped. He had found the door. He pulled his right hand out of his pocket. A swift glance left and right showed that the hallway was empty.

  He gave two gentle knocks in order not to scare anyone. Immediately after knocking he covered the peephole with his left hand, so that if Sung-Ho looked through he would not see 2135, and would likely assume that either his peephole was broken or someone was standing extremely close to it. 2135 heard footsteps inside the apartment walk heavily towards the door. They stopped on the other side. 2135 heard the bolt unlock and then the door slowly opened.

  2135 first looked at the kid standing at the door. He was not tall and did not have any distinctive features. He wore glasses and had a gold watch on his hand.

  Before Sung-Ho could say anything, 2135 stepped forward and threw his fist at Sung-Ho’s cheek with his right hand. Sung-Ho seemed to fly backwards five or six feet. 2135 briskly stepped in and closed the door behind him, bolting it shut. He slowly walked towards the mole.

  Sung-Ho was in shock. The key had penetrated his cheek, creating a hole and punching out a tooth on the other side. He was bleeding on the floor, motionless, in a daze, and unable to speak.

  2135 took out the item of last resort Command gave illegals: a pill. He bent down and grabbed Sung-Ho’s hair. With his other hand he started shoving the pill into Sung-Ho’s mouth.

  “Don’t be afraid. You will soon see everyone you killed.”

  Sung-Ho looked up at 2135 wide eyed. The horrors he had committed until now had been abstractions. His rewards had been real. The sudden reversal illuminated through his eyes.

  Within seconds, Sung-Ho’s body became limp. 2135 stood up and looked around the suite. In front of the couch there was a very large TV hanging on the wall. Having lived in North Korea for fifteen years, 2135 believed he was going through a Rip Van Winkle effect. He had never seen as large and as flat a TV as that which hung on Sung-Ho’s wall. On a table there were several watches, each a different shape and a different brand. Next to them were several newly bought shirts and ties. A pile of cash about three inches high completed the ensemble.

  Officer 2135 walked back towards the entrance. He unbolted the door, opened it, and looked once more into the hallway. It was still clear. He closed the door behind him. He walked towards the elevators, realizing he had just completed his final mission.