Chapter Nine

Ri’s evil lair was actually quite lovely with silk green patterned throw pillows that were purchased on a recent shopping trip to Dubai. They rested on the Ron Arad Stainless Steel Sofa that her brother had somehow purchased or borrowed, she wasn’t sure and didn’t care, from the Museum of Modern Art in the United States. It was worth $300,000 and was incredibly uncomfortable even with the pillows. One entire side of the room was taken up by hermetically sealed glass bookcases with collections of rare books that she liked to look at through the glass, but never wished to read. She did occasionally take the spiral stairs at the far end of the room to the balcony, which overlooked her desk, but she could not see her couch or books quite as well from up there, because of the Baccarat Crystal, Zenith Red and Clear 84 Light Crystal Chandelier that blocked the view. That had been such an impulse purchase that she now wondered if it was worth it, but then again it did match her crystal decanters so nicely and the Yamazaki 25, Louis XIII Cognac, and Billionaire Vodka they contained were worth many times what the chandelier had cost.

Built into the side of Mount Kumgang and overlooking a pristine lake, Ri Song Ae could not have been more pleased with this birthday present from her brother. The Mercedes Benz F015 Luxury in Motion sedan had been pretty sweet, as well, but this--damn.

She pressed the remote control that tinted the panoramic windows, settled behind the glass desk that had never known a fingerprint, and rested her gloved hands upon its surface. She smiled lovingly at the Miu Miu crystal-embellished satin slingback pumps visible through the desk (the crystal having been customized with diamonds, obviously). Pressing the small, flesh-colored communicator in her right ear, she told her assistant to send in the scientists. She could have just called out to them, but this was so much cooler and what was the point of having an assistant if not to assist. Actually, the more she thought about it, she realized having only one assistant really limited the assisting opportunities. She made a note to tell her assistant to get another one, and maybe to get one for herself, just to be safe.

Her contemplations were interrupted by the sound of the door swooshing open. The door itself made no noise at all, having been installed with impeccable precision and craftsmanship. She’d had the swoosh added after being caught in an awkward situation by one of her bodyguards who was checking on the whereabouts of her other bodyguard, who was checking on something under her dress at the time.

The two men and one woman who walked in today were not wearing expensive shoes, had not recently shopped in Dubai, and were frankly a bit ticked off that the windows were tinted, crushing any chance of them catching a few minutes of actual outdoor scenery. Working deep inside a secret military base sucked. It was not like the movies at all. The food was terrible. Their rooms were like prison cells, which they could all confirm in great detail having spent several months in one after questioning the soundness of the current initiative. So, for the sake of their families and to demonstrate their  overwhelming love of Ri’s brother, the Supreme Leader Anointed By God Who Will Carry Them to Valortorious Explosions of Enemy Soul Crushing, they brushed wrinkles out of their white lab coats and kept their pissiness to themselves.

“Come in, come in. Make yourselves comfortable,” Ri generously offered. The two men and one woman looked around at the sparsely decorated offices, empty except for the $300,000 steel couch and the one chair behind the desk, which was currently occupied by Ri. The scientists wisely didn’t make a move for either option.

“Good, good. Better, yes? Tell me of the latest. Can the little shit be helpful?” she asked, using the derogatory term for Web Stockbridge to cement with her colleagues that she was just part of the team, all working together towards common goals. She sipped her champagne and waited with her legs curled up underneath her, the diamonds on her shoes scratching the leather that would, of course, be replaced by the next morning.

The woman was forty-two years old, tall with long black hair in a pony tail and just a hint of gray near each temple. She stepped forward confidently and said, “I believe he can be manipulated into helping our plans. I spoke with him just a short time ago and he is willing to continue the conversation and to keep quiet about it.”

“Do you believe him?” Ri asked.

“Yes. None of our intelligence suggests he has any,” the woman said, holding back a smile.

“Uh huh. So, do you believe him?” Ri asked again.

Sighing, the woman nodded her head. Dr. Lee Yeon-mi had a Ph.D. in mathematics, spoke three languages, and held four patents related to nanomaterials, but apparently comic timing remained elusive. She would practice more.

Ri continued, “Good, good. So how do we use him? Can we embarrass his father in a very public way? My brother would like that very much.” Ri’s brother, the Supreme Leader Anointed By etc…, had very effectively nurtured a pavlovian response in his sister by rewarding every effort to ingratiate herself with an ever-expanding litany of over-the-top gifts. The problem she now encountered was that he had begun very directly linking the awesomeness of the gift to the magnitude of the undertaking. Her mountainside lair was a thank you for manipulating a world leader into an embarrassing photo-op that would pay dividends for her brother’s reputation and control of the country for decades. Meanwhile, the world leader was no longer leading anything. Now, she had her eye on a private island in the Pacific that would be perfect for a couple weeks respite each October. She wanted that island and these white lab coats were going to get it for her.

The two men stepped forward to stand even with Dr. Yeon, adding their two additional doctorates, four languages, six patents, and a love of hand-painted Russian nesting dolls to the conversation.

“The first test was a success,” noted Dr. Yu Jin. He was fifty-six with a military bearing and hair cut, leaning towards stocky, but not quite there yet despite an impassioned campaign centered on corn chips. “We were able to affect the path of the hurricane by over one hundred miles. I am confident we can replicate the results under the right conditions to even greater effect.”

“Uh huh,” said Ri, glancing distractedly at the crystal decanters filled with exotic spirits. It was ten o’clock in the morning.

Sensing they were at risk of losing Ri’s attention, which would be bad, and worried that Dr. Jin had left out critical information, Dr. Jang Chang-ha, clocking in at a solid 145 pounds with a round face, round glasses, hair just a little too long, and yes, the nesting doll fan, cleared his throat and offered, “If the American President were to be caught unexpectedly in the path of a storm, well, I think that would be pretty embarrassing. And people would die too. I’m quite sure there would be much suffering in addition to the embarrassment, which would definitely be significant.”

“Hmm. That is appealing. How significant would you estimate the embarrassment would be?” she inquired. She could play the science game when pushed.

“Um, well,” Dr. Chang-ha stuttered, pausing when he noticed that he now stood alone, his two companions having quietly stepped back one step and appeared to be searching for lost items on the spotless marble floor.

“Oh, come now. How do you measure embarrassment? I am going to need some, what do you call it, hard data, to show my brother,” Ri said. Honestly, these scientists were so dense sometimes. Was it really that complicated to measure things?

Chang-ha opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again and inadvertently uttered a squeak, turned that into a fake cough, realized how mildly embarrassing that was and saw the way out.

“Yes, of course,” he said with renewed confidence. “Hard data is very important. We have calculated that the American President will be significantly embarrassed, which is very high for embarrassment. Much higher than mildly, somewhat, a bit, and even “I’m so.” There is some research I’ve seen, preliminary at this point, that significantly embarrassed may even supersede being mortified and never going out again. I can’t confirm this as yet, though. More research is needed should, in your great wisdom, the budget allow.”

Ri stared down at her flawlessly lacquered fingernails and tapped on the desk thoughtfully, as though pondering a great mystery. Looking up suddenly, she smiled and said, “You will have your research money. This is vital to the project and to the nation. For now, significant embarrassment will do nicely. How soon can you make it happen?”

Having found a bit of courage somewhere on the floor, Dr. Jin stepped forward. Beginning cautiously, she said, “there are no disturbances in the Atlantic basin at the moment, so it’s unclear how quickly . . .” he trailed off as the smile on Ri’s face vanished and threatened to evolve into a frown. A frown would not be a good thing. There were rumors of a trap door in this office. There were rumors of many things about this office that had little to do with designer throw pillows and scenic vistas.

Dr. Yeon came to the rescue. “I can begin immediately to work on the son. To guide him toward convincing his father to do as we wish. Then, when the storm comes, we will be able to act very quickly.”

Sensing the turning tide, Dr. Chang opined, “and it is a very active hurricane season, so I’m sure a disturbance will form soon.”

“That’s good,” said Ri. “I will let my brother know. Keep up the good work.”

The three doctors turned as quickly as protocol would allow and moved toward the door. Just before they reached it, Ri called out. “And, destroy their economy, too. Don’t forget that part. ‘Kay, bye!”

********************

Can you talk now?

Sure, yeah. How’s it going?

Are you alone?

Definitely. Secret Service are outside my room, though.

I’ve spoken to my colleague and she feels very badly for your people hurt by

the hurricane. I’m sure the President is very upset.

Totally. He’s pissed off at some scientists who screwed up.

This friend of my dad’s who works for him is trying to figure out what happened.

Which friend is that, if you don’t mind my asking?

Her name’s Gale. She works for some weather agency. She

has a sweet plane. And a sweet car that she lets some kid

drive. The kid’s not me. some other kid, but older.

I see. Well, my colleague, who is very smart and would very much like to

help your father as a way to demonstrate her friendship, has a suggestion.

Okay… I’m listening. I mean reading. What?

Perhaps if there is another hurricane, the President could visit a city near

the expected path to demonstrate his bravery and confidence in his

scientists. I think this would be a very good idea and be very newsworthy.

He doesn’t really like to go places. Or to talk to people. He

says the President doesn't have to. It’s his favorite part of the job.

I didn’t know that. Do you think you could convince him? You seem very

smart.

I don’t know. Maybe. Is there another storm?

There will be.

********************

“Wow,” said Kayla.

“I know, right?” agreed Web.