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high-profile corporate officer, easily recognizable in the United States and Europe, but not here in Korea. Which was exactly why Scully had chosen to meet at this out-of-the-way place on the outskirts of Seoul.
    â€œWhat are we going to talk about tonight, Mr. Scully?” Whitacre asked. He had known Scully for six months and liked him even less now than he had the first time they’d met. “What is so urgent that you have to come find me during the middle of a very important week of meetings in Asia?”
    Whitacre was too sure of himself for a man who had never put himself at risk in the name of a cause, Scully thought. Scully had spent his career in the intelligence shadows, constantly one small misstep away from being spirited off to an enemy interrogation camp and certain torture. Scully was the type of man the United States government would never acknowledge knowing if he found himself in hot water. He had sacrificed family, friends, and monetary gain for his country. He was certain the only cause Whitacre had ever sacrificed anything for had its roots firmly planted in the dollar.
    â€œWe’re going to talk about something near and dear to your heart,” Scully said. “The money.”
    Whitacre snuffed out his cigarette in a dirty porcelain ashtray. He liked coming to Asia because you could smoke whenever and wherever you chose. “What about it?”
    â€œIt’s time to move it.”
    â€œIs the infrastructure ready?”
    â€œYes.” Scully was aware of Whitacre’s disdain for him, but it didn’t bother him at all. The feeling was mutual. He had expressed his displeasure at the prospect of working with Whitacre to the higher-ups, but the decision to use Whitacre for the operation was final.
    â€œHave we decided which pocket the money will come from?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œHow much will be transferred?”
    â€œA billion initially, then another billion later. It’s a lot, but thanks to our contacts no one will ever realize what’s happened.”
    â€œAnd the destination is no problem?”
    â€œThe final details have been worked out,” Scully said proudly. He had been proposing this plan for years, but until recently no one had paid attention. Eighteen months ago the higher-ups had finally understood the incredible opportunity. Predictably, they were now claiming the idea as their own, but he didn’t care. He derived an immense amount of satisfaction because he knew down deep who was responsible, and he was patriotic to a fault. “Everything is ready.”
    Whitacre lit another cigarette. “The reach of this thing seems to grow every day.”
    Scully leaned over the table. “Does that scare you?”
    â€œNo,” Whitacre replied hesitantly. What scared him was Scully.
    â€œGood.” Scully said, checking his watch. “Your CEO will be here in a few minutes, according to our people.”
    â€œRight,” Whitacre muttered. He felt a pain in the pit of his stomach. At least he was capable of remorse, he thought to himself. He knew Scully had none.
    â€œHave you ever been under fire, Mr. Whitacre?” Scully asked, a thin smile on his lips. “Ever had someone attack you brandishing a deadly weapon with the intent to kill?”
    Whitacre shook his head. “No,” he said. “Why?”
    â€œJust curious.” Scully pointed at a dark window above a grocery store across the street. “I’ll be right up there.”
    Whitacre realized the cigarette between his fingers was shaking and he quickly placed it in the ashtray. “It’s going to happen here?” he asked, swallowing hard.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œBut there are so many people around,” Whitacre protested. It was well past sundown, but the thoroughfare remained crowded with pedestrians.
    â€œDon’t worry about them. They’ll be fine.”
    â€œWhy not do it back at the hotel?”
    â€œIt has