Match Play Read online

  Jilly had joined the gallery ringing the tee box. Her glossy, wind-tossed hair made her an easy standout. Her gleeful grin and thumbs-up conveyed support and encouragement to the casual observer. To Dayna, they were a signal that Luke and Hawk had succeeded in dumping sumo-mama into the loving arms of the British authorities.

  Sure enough, Hawk strolled out of the clubhouse just as Dayna prepared to tee off. She acknowledged his presence with a nod. He returned it, looking relaxed and sporty in a flat-billed tweed cap. By the time the group had reached the green, Hawk had struck up a seemingly idle conversation with his drinking buddy, Dr. Wu.

  The only missing member of their team was Luke. Dayna felt his absence more than she’d expected to. She knew he’d raced back to RAF Leuchars to explore the wild scheme she’d suggested. He was probably locked away with his detachment commander at this very minute, trying to figure out whether it was possible to feed one of North Korea’s foremost scientists misleading and totally inaccurate information about the United States’s nuclear-weapons program.

  So she shouldn’t miss seeing his broad shoulders and easy, hands-in-pocket stance in the gallery. Or wish he’d witnessed her spectacular bunker shot on number five. And she sure as hell shouldn’t be thinking about a private, posttournament celebration that might or might not involve butties!

  “Focus, Duncan,” she muttered, shoving the image of a naked, sweat-slicked Luke out of her head. “Focus.”

  The back nine tested the skills of each member of the foursome to the max.

  Allison went out of bounds on ten. Joan got trapped in Strath Bunker on eleven and needed three strokes to climb out. Kim Li bogeyed twelve and thirteen. Dayna hit the nasty clump of bunkers known as the Beardies on fourteen, but managed to save par.

  By the time they teed up on fifteen, Kim Li’s temper was manifesting itself with a vengeance. After each less-than-perfect swing, she thumped the ground angrily with her club before shoving it at her caddy and stalking off. The cameras caught her berating a spectator who pressed too close to the ropes. Supersensitive microphones recorded curses in both Korean and broken English.

  World-famous number eighteen almost proved the straw that broke the camel’s back. Technically, eighteen wasn’t that difficult a hole. Three hundred and forty-two yards straight to the Royal and Ancient Golf Clubhouse. The challenge came in the form of Swilcan Bridge, spanning the creek that snaked through the fairway and the Valley of Sin that guarded the green.

  Kim Li powered her drive, but it went low and smacked into the stone bridge. Zinging away at a sharp right angle, the ball flew across the road, ricocheted off the roof of a passing car and shattered a plate-glass shop window.

  “Out of bounds,” the course official intoned solemnly while the gallery burst into cheers and laughter.

  Furious, Kim Li slung her club at her caddy. The laughter died. A few scattered boos came from the normally decorous gallery as the disapproving course official delivered a stern warning.

  “Here now, Miss. We’ll have no more of that.”

  The chastisement did little to improve Kim Li’s mood. It deteriorated even further when the foursome holed out, and Dayna and Allison’s combined scores topped the leaderboard. Kim Li and her partner ranked second, which meant they’d make up the same foursome again for the last round of the tournament.

  “We play again tomorrow,” the Korean acknowledged with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. Her obligatory handshake was curt and forced.

  “So we will,” Dayna agreed blandly. “Tomorrow will be a big day—in more ways than one.”

  With so many people milling around, she didn’t dare make more than a veiled reference to the Wus’ supposed desire to escape to the States after the tournament.

  Even that subtle reminder was enough to wipe the temper from Kim Li’s face. Her glance darted left, then right. For the barest fraction of a second, uncertainty darkened her eyes. Or was that fear? It came and went so swiftly, Dayna couldn’t decide.

  During the brief pause, unanswered questions rolled around inside her head like loose ball bearings. How far would the Wus go with their double deception? Was the daughter merely playing along until the father actually boarded a plane to the U.S.? How did Dr. Wu plan to leave the States once he’d gathered the information he’d been sent to collect? Was Kim Li’s mother really alive and being held as surety for her husband and daughter’s return to Korea, or was that, too, a lie?

  “Perhaps we should discuss tomorrow’s agenda,” Dayna suggested, reminding the teenaged superstar that they hadn’t yet confirmed the details of the escape.

  “Yes,” Kim Li muttered. “We must discuss tomorrow.”

  With the Korean’s trainer and manager swiftly converging on their protégée, Dayna thought fast. Any meeting outside the scope of the tournament would raise instant suspicion. Best to do it in the open, under the guise of a business-slash-social event.

  “As you may know,” she said loudly enough for Kim Li’s handlers to overhear, “I work for the largest outdoor recreation training facility in the United States. We’re in the process of organizing a one-time mega event to promote health and fitness among kids. We’ve lined up a host of international sponsors and extensive media coverage. I’d like to talk to you about participating. Perhaps you—and your father, of course—could join me for dinner this evening?”

  “Dinner. Yes.” Kim Li glanced to the left, received an almost imperceptible nod from her trainer. “Will Captain Harper also come?”

  “Luke?”

  “My father has heard…That is, he’s seen rumors in papers about this plane the captain flies.”

  Dayna just bet he had! If she’d needed any further verification of the Wus’ intended duplicity, Kim Li had just handed it to her.

  “I’ll invite Captain Harper to join us. The hotel dining room, seven o’clock?”

  Dayna hoped Luke would be back by then. She needed him in on this meeting. She also needed to know whether they could pull off the wild scheme they’d hatched earlier.

  “My father and I will be there,” Kim Li confirmed.

  Dayna relayed the dinner engagement to Luke by phone, wondering how had he become such a vital part of her op. And her thoughts, dammit. The man had been in her head, if not in her direct line of sight, throughout the entire day. He promised to make the appointment, but didn’t have time to brief her on his activities until he made it back to the hotel.

  When he arrived at her room at six-twenty, he would have appeared cool and in control to a casual observer. Dayna’s antennae had become so resensitized to the man, however, that one glance at the glint of excitement in his eyes kicked her pulse into overdrive.

  “Tell us,” she demanded as he shed his jacket and tossed it over the back of a chair.

  “We had to go all the way to the top brass at the Pentagon but we got the green light for what could be the scam of the century.”

  Too revved to sit, he paced the sitting room and laid out a hastily contrived, incredibly complex scheme for Dayna, Hawk and Jilly.

  “As soon as we got the go-ahead, Colonel Anderson activated a total detachment recall. Our ground crews and contractors are already fabricating fake engine cowlings, cockpit shields and wing mounts for one of our birds.

  “The changes will be so subtle no one except a B-2 crewdog could detect them, but they’ll alter the aircraft’s radar signature enough to return an erroneous signal. We’ll arrange for Dr. Wu to get a glimpse of the modified bird through the hangar doors when you take him to the aircraft that’s supposed to transport him to the States. If his people outfit him with a hidden camera or digital-imaging device…”

  “We have to assume they will,” Dayna said.

  “Then he’ll transmit some very precise, very false images of the B-2.”

  A savage satisfaction roughened Luke’s voice as he described the furor of activity occurring at the base.

  “We’re also scrambling to concoct an altered formula for the radar-absor
bent coating we spray on the skin. The plan is to let Dr. Wu pocket a minute sample of something sprayed with the fake coating. The North Koreans will blow their supercomputers trying to reverse-engineer the altered formula and figure out how the hell to get it to stick.”

  “What about nukes?” Hawk asked. “Those are Dr. Wu’s specialty. He knows the B-2 is nuclear-capable, although it’s more than proven its worth by delivering conventional munitions in the current conflict. You planning to blow smoke up his ass about that, too?”

  “We’re sure gonna try. In fact, we figured we’d kill two birds with one stone.”

  Luke’s manner, his stance, his energy all conveyed a single, intent focus. He’d unleashed his hunting instincts and had locked on his prey.

  They were so much more alike than she’d been willing to admit, Dayna thought as an answering thrill shivered down her spine. Both hunters, both zeroed in on their mission. A well-matched pair, she acknowledged silently.

  “Colonel Anderson and I decided to let our friend, Ms. Brodie, feed the good doctor and his pals a treasure trove of misinformation.”

  Dayna and Jilly gaped in surprise. Hawk, who’d missed Ms. Brodie’s harangue during the media conference yesterday, had to be reminded of who she was.

  “Hold on a minute,” he protested. “Are you saying Colonel Anderson and the Pentagon brass have decided to reveal the B-2’s presence at RAF Leuchars to a bunch of rabid antiwar activists?”

  “Not quite. One of our crewdogs, however, will down a pint too many tonight at a pub regularly frequented by several of these activists.” His glance caught Dayna’s. “Alan Parks has volunteered for this dangerous mission, by the way.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” she drawled, recalling the pilot’s cocky assertiveness. “What happens after he gets inebriated? Or appears to?”

  “He’ll act confused and swear he didn’t so much as mention nukes or a plasma separator.”

  “Who or what is a plasma separator?”

  Luke’s grin was swift and predatory. “It’s a technique developed by the French that uses superconducting magnets and plasma physics to enrich uranium. The North Koreans are desperate to obtain enough U-235 to fuel their weapons-development program.”

  “Can they get it from this plasma separator?”

  “They can, if they manage to beg, buy or steal the technology. Even then it would take decades to bring the separator to full production capacity. We tested the process a few years ago, incidentally, but didn’t find it either efficient or cost-effective. Dr. Wu knows that. Or thinks he does. Ms. Brodie might convince him otherwise, particularly when both the U.S. and the U.K. flatly deny the existence of both a storage site and a separator.”

  “Which do not, in fact, exist,” Dayna finished with an answering grin. “Making Ms. Brodie and company look extremely foolish when they troop through acres of gorse and heather looking for both. Neat. Very neat.”

  “We think so,” he said smugly.

  “You work fast, Harper.” She couldn’t believe he’d pulled everything together so with such speed and precision. “Think we can carry this off?”

  “We’ll sure give it a helluva try, Puddles.”

  “Puddles?” Jilly echoed, amusement lighting her blue eyes.

  “I’ll explain later,” Dayna lied with a quick glance at her watch. “Luke and I need to get down to the restaurant. We don’t want to keep our guests waiting.”

  Nodding, Jilly waited until the door closed behind them. Then she treated Hawk to a look of wide-eyed innocence.

  “Looks like it’s just the two of us for dinner.”

  Dayna and Luke beat the Wus to the dining room by a scant couple of minutes.

  The Koreans’ watchdogs were already seated at another table some distance away. Kim Li’s trainer flicked a glance in Dayna’s direction as the hostess seated her. His expression gave no hint of his thoughts, but he had to be aware of sumo-mama’s disappearance by now. Did he suspect Dayna and Luke of engineering that? Did Kim Li?

  The girl’s pale, strained face when the hostess led her to the table a few moments later suggested she did. Dr. Wu looked almost as tense as his daughter. Perspiration beading on his cheeks and forehead, he shook hands with Luke before taking his seat.

  “I have read of you in the newspapers,” he said in heavily accented English. “You are a pilot, yes? With the American air force?”

  “I am.”

  “I, too, wore uniform of my country. Many years ago. Now only humble scientist.”

  “You’re too modest, sir. I’ve read the paper on fusion you presented to the Twenty-Eighth International Congress of Nuclear Scientists. That was anything but humble.”

  Good grief! Luke had been busy. Did he dig up that presentation this afternoon, between arranging for the fabrication of fake skin for his aircraft and setting up Ms. Brodie’s gang for a fall?

  A silent, sneaking admiration added to the combustible mix of emotions Luke Harper had already stirred in Dayna’s heart. The smart, handsome college senior she’d fallen for all those years ago didn’t compare to the smart, handsome, self-assured officer he’d become.

  “Why you read my paper?” Dr. Wu asked after a quick look over his shoulder.

  The brief, almost furtive glance didn’t fool Dayna. The Wus had to be wired. Their watchdogs wouldn’t let them out of earshot unless they could monitor their conversations.

  Shrugging, Luke played to the hidden mike. “Let’s just say I have an interest in the subject.”

  Removing his glasses, the scientist polished them with great care. When he put them on again, his face had lost every trace of color. Kim Li wasn’t in much better shape. She had her napkin bunched in a white-knuckled fist.

  “Perhaps…” Dr. Wu cleared his throat. “Perhaps we talk more on this when Kim Li and I come to base tomorrow.”

  “That can be arranged.”

  Luke didn’t so much as twitch a facial muscle, but Dayna could sense the same intense elation in him that almost made her squirm in her seat.

  The Koreans had taken the bait.

  Sweating in earnest now, the scientist mopped his forehead with his napkin. “How we go to base?”

  Dayna used her menu to hide her mouth from any astute lip-reader. She had to play the game.

  “My associates, Mike Callahan and Gillian Ridgeway, will separate you from your watchdogs during the hubbub immediately prior to the trophy presentation. Do you remember Gillian? You met her yesterday.”

  “The woman who speaks Korean?”

  “That’s the one. She and Mike will take you to the aircraft that will transport you to the States. Luke and I will bring your daughter.”

  Kim Li wadded her napkin into a tight ball. “Can my father and I not go together?”

  Not if they wanted to give Dr. Wu time to observe the altered Stealth bomber without raising suspicions.

  “It’s best if we take two vehicles. We’ve arranged tight security for both.”

  Father and daughter shared a glance. Then he gave an almost imperceptible nod.

  The crumpled napkin slid off Kim Li’s lap. She bent to retrieve it before the waiter could come to her assistance. Using the tablecloth skirting as a cover, she dropped a folded slip of paper into Dayna’s lap.

  Casually, so casually, Dayna unfolded her own napkin and draped it over her lap.

  Chapter 15

  “The Wus want a helicopter hovering a half mile from a specific point along the DMZ at twenty-three hundred tomorrow, Korean time?” Lightning’s glance shot to the bank of clocks on the far wall of the Control Center. “That’ll be 3:00 p.m. there in St. Andrews.”

  “Roger that.” The Control Center’s sensitive speakers amplified the quiver of excitement in Rogue’s voice. “Just about the time the tournament is expected to wrap up. The note cites the exact coordinates.”

  As she rattled off the latitude and longitude, OMEGA’s on-duty controller punched them into his computer. Instantly, the digitized map of the
Korean peninsula projected onto the wall-size screen enlarged.

  The Demilitarized Zone went from showing as a thin scar across the middle of the Korean peninsula to a fat strip marked with observation posts on both sides every hundred yards or so. Interspersed among the guard posts were several narrow, snaking lines that bisected the DMZ.

  “Hang on, Rogue.”

  Squinting, Lightning tried to decipher the unidentified lines. Since all traffic between North and South was strictly controlled at the main checkpoints, they couldn’t represent roads or rail tracks.

  “Zoom in on that line on the left,” he instructed the controller.

  The satellite imagery sharpened to display incredible detail. So precise that Lightning could see a goat grazing dangerously close to the barbed wire that enclosed the heavily mined DMZ.

  “Well, damn,” the controller muttered, zeroing in on a shadowy blur. “That looks like the opening to a tunnel.”

  “It is,” Lightning confirmed with sudden recall. “An infiltration tunnel, dug by the North Koreans a half century ago.”

  “Come again?” Rogue asked via the speakers.

  “Years ago North Korea dug a series of tunnels under the DMZ in preparation for an invasion. The invasion never happened, and an engineer who defected in the late seventies revealed the tunnels’ existence. The South Koreans uncovered four. Each was more than two kilometers long and wide enough to allow passage of an estimated thirty-thousand troops per hour. The defector claimed more than twenty had been dug. If so, they’re still well hidden.”

  Now, apparently, another defector intended to use one of those hidden passages as an escape route.

  “Does the note say who the helicopter is supposed to pick up?”

  “Negative,” Rogue replied. “Only that she’ll flash three short bursts of light and one long as a signal for them to come in.”

  “She? The note specifies a ‘she’?

  “It does. We—Hawk and Luke and Jilly and I—think it must be Wu’s wife.”

  “We haven’t received confirmation from our contacts in Korea that Madam Wu is alive,” Lightning cautioned.