“One of our vics is North Korean?”

Agent Borges sat propped upright in his hospital bed, IV in his left arm full of pain killers and other drugs and bandaged in a number of places. He had a nasty bruise at the level of his ribs I assumed came when he fell. Agent Faulkner was there as well, drinking from a cup of apple juice originally intended for Borges while Borges asked me about the case.

“Two of them,” I replied. “The child as well. The guys at the 12th are looking into it, but it appears that she defected to the South a few years ago when the child was an infant. She’s supposedly the child of some high muckity-muck in the North although I don’t know who.”

“This case just gets stranger and stranger,” Faulkner said, “and now Homeland is going to get involved.” He laughed. “At this pace you may never be able to set foot in a massage parlor again.”

I groaned. I hadn’t considered that. Add that to my list of things to discuss with Carol later. “They’re going to tap my phone, aren’t they?”

Now Borges laughed. “Hell Carter,” he said, “we’re already doing that. I’d bet by this time tomorrow your home gets bugged too.”

Add that to the list as well.

“So is the department treating her as the primary?” Faulkner asked.

I nodded. “They are,” I said. “Seeing as this is about to become a very hot political football it seems the proper thing to do.”

“Agreed. I’ll get some of our people looking into any connections to North Korea from the Pacific Heights victims. Maybe your Freddy is working for them.”

“Swell.” I took a deep breath and dove in. “Any leads out of San Jose?”

“Too early to tell,” Faulkner replied. “We actually have a separate office down there so I held a briefing last night to bring them up to speed. They’ve also got a pretty solid IT department in that office so they’re doing a pixel by pixel analysis of the digital video of your visit from Superman. I hope to have an update in a few hours.”

So nothing yet. I turned to Borges. “And how are you holding up?” I asked. “Welcome to the ‘getting shot by an asshole perp’ club, by the way.”

He laughed. “There’s shit about getting shot that no one tells you,” he said.

“I know,” both Faulkner and I said at the same time.

“It burned,” Borges said. “I wasn’t expecting that – especially given that I was essentially shot with compressed air.”

“It would have still had the pressure of a regular bullet,” I said. “Friction alone would have super-heated the air.”

“The doctors kept saying over and over that they couldn’t believe how clean the wound was.”

“You got lucky to be shot by an experimental air gun,” I said. “Bullets are filthy. I came down with a nasty infection my third time.”

“Because you got shot in the shoulder you should be aware that there will be residual damage to both your shoulder blade and your collar bone that might not show up for years,” Faulkner added. “I’d wager that Mr. Carter here has aches and pains he’d rather not describe.”

“True that,” I said. “Don’t worry, you only got shot once. Not so bad for a career in law enforcement even if most never draw a weapon.”

“Hell I didn’t draw a weapon,” Borges said. “That’s going to sting for a while.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Faulkner said. “You tried, so that means your training kicked in. When I got shot I didn’t even know I was walking into a scene with an armed and dangerous man.” He looked at me. “What about you?”

“I don’t think you can count my experience as ordinary,” I said. “A firefight in battle, a firefight in a bank robbery, and a jealous husband. I was armed and shooting the first two times but it was the third that did me the most damage. Don’t listen to me – I’ve been shot up more than most police departments.”

“I can have you shot again,” came a voice from the door, accompanied by a knock.

I didn’t even have to look. “Ah, the sweet things you say Detective Hayes,” I shot back.

“Yeah, well fuck you too,” she replied. “No reason I can’t actively hate you.”

I laughed a small laugh. “Fair enough.”

“What brings you by?” Faulkner interjected.

“Orders to bring you up to speed,” Hayes replied, “accompanied by orders to not use the phone.”

Faulkner nodded and closed the door to the room. I decided to have a seat next to Agent Borges’ bed. “This cannot be good,” he said, adjusting his bed ever so slightly.

“It isn’t,” Hayed acknowledged. “We have confirmation that the one woman and her child are refugees from North Korea. We also have confirmation that she is the daughter of a General in their armed forces. In fact, General Gyeon is the number two man in their nuclear weapons program.”

“Oh good god,” Faulkner said. “This is going to get very ugly very fast.”

“Why the no phone call rule?” I asked.

“Because,” Hayes said, “according to the South Korean Consulate General Gyeon didn’t show up for the last three meetings of his agency. No one else at the precinct knows and I was told to only notify you three.”

“The South Koreans know that?” I blurted.

“Guess who also has spies?”

“They don’t know where he is,” Borges said, voice quieter than it had been.

“They don’t know where he is and he is in charge of the nuclear weapons program of the least sane government on the planet and his daughter and grandson have just been murdered in the west by a weapons contractor.”

We all sat there for a moment soaking that in.

“We have to assume he knows,” Faulkner said, “even if he doesn’t.” He looked at Borges, who nodded, and then pulled out his own phone and started dialing.

“We have to assume he’s going to assign blame in the worst possible way,” Borges added.

“Who are you calling?” Hayes asked. “I was told no phones by my boss.”

“I don’t work for your boss and this is a satellite phone,” Faulkner replied. “Yes. This is Special Agent Faulkner. ID 37A4152B. I need two agents with Top Secret clearance or better at the 12th Precinct in San Francisco. One of those two agents will need to bring full computer access. The other will need to be an expert on North Korea. I need them in three hours. Yes, I’ll hold.”

Hayes sidled up to me. “Do you understand what the hell is going on?” She asked.

“I do and I wish I didn’t,” I replied.

“Spill it then. You consult for us!”

“And boy don’t you wish I didn’t. He’s on the phone with Homeland Security. He thinks that World War Three is going to break out over a dead hooker.”

Hayes’ eyes went wide. It wasn’t an attractive look for her.

“I’m still here,” Faulkner said into the phone again. He turned to us. “Detective Hayes, please take Mister Carter back to the 12th and keep him there until I and Homeland’s people arrive. Also, please call and provide security for Agent Borges here.” He looked at his fellow agent. “Do I need to remind you of the protocol? No phone calls. Don’t speak of this to anyone without proper authorization.”

Borges laughed a bitter laugh. “You reminded me anyway,” he said.

Faulkner turned back to Hayes. “I’d be willing to bet that your Captain is smart. She took the trouble to compartmentalize this information but this is going to get very serious. Let her know that Homeland is coming fast and that everyone who knows about the Korean girl’s connection to North Korea be kept in the office. I will also need the name of your contact at the South Korean Embassy.”

“That information is back at my office,” Hayes said.

“Fine. I will get it from you when I arrive. Please have a protection detail here within the hour. I will stay until they arrive and then join you at the 12th.”

Hayes stood up and for the second time that day I found myself staring at her breasts. I mean, they were right there. “Come on pervert,” she said. I stood and shook myself out of it.

“I’m glad you’re going to be all right,” I said to Agent Borges. “At least until we all die in a nuclear fireball.”

He laughed. “They’re going to invoke the secrets act on you,” he said.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I replied, knowing he was right. I could still hear him laughing and Agent Faulkner setting up details when the door closed behind us as Hayes escorted me out.