The Ghost War Read Online Free PDF

Wells said. “Poor Exley.” He kissed her neck softly.
    “Lots of people have alcoholic dads.”
    Yeah, but you’re the one I love, he thought. And didn’t say, though he didn’t know quite why.
    Outside the sirens faded. Wells walked to the window, looked at the agency’s guards in the Crown Victorias. He turned back to the bed. Exley had her legs folded under herself kittenishly now.
    “You listening, John?”
    He laid a hand on her knee.
    “Anyway. It’s snowing when we get to Utah. Snows all night. The next morning we drive up to Alta. I’m so excited. The best skiing in the world. And we get there, we buy our tickets. We get on the lift . . .”
    He tried to slide his hand between her legs, but she squeezed them tight.
    “We get to the top. And we ski down.”
    “So you ski down? That’s the story? How was it?”
    “Great. But, you know. It was skiing, like Tahoe. Just skiing. And I kept thinking that it was costing money we didn’t have, and I should have loved it, not just liked it. So somehow I was disappointed, even though I knew I shouldn’t be. I didn’t say anything. But my dad, he figured it out. Because at the end of the day, he said to me, ‘Even Utah isn’t Utah, huh?’” She paused, then continued. “There’s no magic bullet. Nobody in the world will blame you for feeling like hell, needing time to put yourself back together. But this—you’re not being fair to yourself. Or me.”
    He knew she was right. But he wanted to ask her, how long until I don’t dream about tearing men apart, gutting them like fish? How long until I sleep eight hours at a stretch? Six? Four? Until I can talk about what I’ve seen without wanting to tear up a room?
    “You’re not crazy, John,” she said. “You don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to. People specialize in this stuff.”
    “A shrink?”
    “They’re professionals.” The desperation in her voice disturbed Wells more than anything she’d said, gave him a clue how hard he’d made her life.
    “I’ll be okay. I just need to figure out what’s next. I promise.” He felt himself close up again. Good.
    “Or me. You can talk to me if you want.”
    “I will. But not now.” Instead he reached for her. She pushed him away, but just for a moment. And for a little while they thought only of each other.

3
     
    THE NORTH KOREAN SHORELINE WAS JUST A MILE AWAY, but Beck hardly would have known if not for the blue line on the laptop screen that marked the coast. Thick clouds blotted out the stars, and even through his night-vision binoculars Beck saw no buildings, roads, or cars. No signs of life at all. Just an inky darkness stretching to eternity.
    The Phantom crept in at ten knots, its twin engines rumbling quietly. Beck, Choe, and Kang had traveled 120 miles west, past the tip of the North Korean coast. Now they were swinging back east-northeast toward Point D. With any luck the Drafter, and not the North Korean army, would be waiting.
    Beck’s Timex glowed in the night, its blue numbers telling him they were right on time: 2320. The trip had been quiet so far, their biggest excitement coming in Incheon harbor a few minutes after they left. Choe cut too close to a containership, and the Phantom hit the boat’s giant wake. It sprang out of the water like a forty-five-foot-long Jet-Ski and thudded down, sending Beck sprawling. He wasn’t sure, but he thought Choe had hit the wave on purpose, revenge for Beck’s offer of the cyanide pills.
    They’d run at twenty knots most of the way, using the radar feed from the Hawkeye overhead to dodge the handful of ships along the coast. The dark sky had helped too. Beck had seen only two boats in the last hour, and neither had spotted the Phantom.
    They closed on the coast, barely five hundred yards away now. Through his binoculars Beck saw a broken rock wall, its stones crumbling and scattered. But still no signs of life.
    “Stop,” he said. The engines quieted and the boat rocked gently