front.”
“Thank you, but I must use this time to get some lunch. Do you expect Dr. Walter to be here early, should I have a few questions prepared ahead of his speech?”
“He’ll probably be here by twelve-thirty at the latest. He usually walks over from the campus, which isn’t too far.”
“Thank you again.” There would be little need for her to save him a seat. As planned, Rei would be well south of the city by one o’clock.
He turned and quickly rode the escalator down to the lobby. As he walked out the door and turned toward the Charles River and the MIT campus, the Marriott doorman noticed the bespectacled, nerdish young Asian, thinking he was probably another MIT super-brain.
It was nearing noon when Rei walked across the bridge heading toward the MIT campus. The Charles River was covered with small, single-person sailboats and rowing shells. The sails had varying striped colors of blue, red, and yellow against a large white field, and the vessels darted back and forth over the wide river.
One small sailboat turned into the wind, its sail pausing in the changeover of the tack. The flutter caught Rei’s eye. It reminded him of a similar small sailboat on a lake not too far south of Moscow—and of her.
Rei had been assigned to the Soviet intelligence school with three other agent trainees, one of them a woman, from the People’s Republic of Korea’s Intelligence Service. Several years later, he learned of her defection to the West. Rei had been incredulous.
In part, he took this latest intelligence mission because it would require numerous trips to the United States. At every airport, Rei had glanced through every crowd, at every face. His standing orders were clear. If given the slightest opportunity, whatever the cost, he was to find the female defector and kill her. He hated her, not only for her betrayal, but because it had held him back for years. They all knew how close she was to him. How could they not suspect Rei as well? It took years of meaningless little jobs to build back their trust. He despised her for that lost time.
Rei crossed over the bridge and dashed across the street to the campus. Second building. Advanced Engineering.
As he approached the stairs, Dr. Lin Walter opened the door.
Dr. Walter was not the typical genius. Well-dressed, young—thirty at most—he had blown past every academic hurdle he had ever faced. Admitted to MIT at the age of fifteen, he obtained his Ph.D. in engineering at twenty-two.
“Excuse me,” said Rei, stopping Dr. Walter, “but I’m looking for an MIT conference at a hotel near here. Could you tell me where the Marriott is?”
Lin Walter thought it odd that this young man would be well into the MIT campus asking for directions to the Marriott, but he gave the matter only brief attention—more important thoughts were on his mind.
“Not only can I tell you where it is, I can personally take you. I’m going to the Marriott to give a talk at one of the conferences there.”
“Oh, thank you. I’m not from here and would greatly appreciate your help.”
“Follow me.” Dr. Walter took off like a racehorse. He was well thought of by fellow faculty members for his academic prowess, but no one tried to walk with or slow down Lin Walter. One of his classes had given him an end-of-school-year plaque volunteering his body to the medical school at Harvard. The theory was that if he had a heart, it would beat only once every hour—even with plenty of caffeine.
Dr. Walter crossed over the campus, following the identical trail Rei had taken. Rei knew exactly at what point he needed to strike.
As they came to the street that paralleled the Charles River, Rei saw the professor preparing to cut across the traffic instead of walking down the thirty meters to the pedestrian walkway. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted several bicyclists at the crosswalk and knew this would provide him a small advantage.
When Walter paused for the traffic, Rei
“Thank you, but I must use this time to get some lunch. Do you expect Dr. Walter to be here early, should I have a few questions prepared ahead of his speech?”
“He’ll probably be here by twelve-thirty at the latest. He usually walks over from the campus, which isn’t too far.”
“Thank you again.” There would be little need for her to save him a seat. As planned, Rei would be well south of the city by one o’clock.
He turned and quickly rode the escalator down to the lobby. As he walked out the door and turned toward the Charles River and the MIT campus, the Marriott doorman noticed the bespectacled, nerdish young Asian, thinking he was probably another MIT super-brain.
It was nearing noon when Rei walked across the bridge heading toward the MIT campus. The Charles River was covered with small, single-person sailboats and rowing shells. The sails had varying striped colors of blue, red, and yellow against a large white field, and the vessels darted back and forth over the wide river.
One small sailboat turned into the wind, its sail pausing in the changeover of the tack. The flutter caught Rei’s eye. It reminded him of a similar small sailboat on a lake not too far south of Moscow—and of her.
Rei had been assigned to the Soviet intelligence school with three other agent trainees, one of them a woman, from the People’s Republic of Korea’s Intelligence Service. Several years later, he learned of her defection to the West. Rei had been incredulous.
In part, he took this latest intelligence mission because it would require numerous trips to the United States. At every airport, Rei had glanced through every crowd, at every face. His standing orders were clear. If given the slightest opportunity, whatever the cost, he was to find the female defector and kill her. He hated her, not only for her betrayal, but because it had held him back for years. They all knew how close she was to him. How could they not suspect Rei as well? It took years of meaningless little jobs to build back their trust. He despised her for that lost time.
Rei crossed over the bridge and dashed across the street to the campus. Second building. Advanced Engineering.
As he approached the stairs, Dr. Lin Walter opened the door.
Dr. Walter was not the typical genius. Well-dressed, young—thirty at most—he had blown past every academic hurdle he had ever faced. Admitted to MIT at the age of fifteen, he obtained his Ph.D. in engineering at twenty-two.
“Excuse me,” said Rei, stopping Dr. Walter, “but I’m looking for an MIT conference at a hotel near here. Could you tell me where the Marriott is?”
Lin Walter thought it odd that this young man would be well into the MIT campus asking for directions to the Marriott, but he gave the matter only brief attention—more important thoughts were on his mind.
“Not only can I tell you where it is, I can personally take you. I’m going to the Marriott to give a talk at one of the conferences there.”
“Oh, thank you. I’m not from here and would greatly appreciate your help.”
“Follow me.” Dr. Walter took off like a racehorse. He was well thought of by fellow faculty members for his academic prowess, but no one tried to walk with or slow down Lin Walter. One of his classes had given him an end-of-school-year plaque volunteering his body to the medical school at Harvard. The theory was that if he had a heart, it would beat only once every hour—even with plenty of caffeine.
Dr. Walter crossed over the campus, following the identical trail Rei had taken. Rei knew exactly at what point he needed to strike.
As they came to the street that paralleled the Charles River, Rei saw the professor preparing to cut across the traffic instead of walking down the thirty meters to the pedestrian walkway. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted several bicyclists at the crosswalk and knew this would provide him a small advantage.
When Walter paused for the traffic, Rei
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