Andy McDermott - The Midas Legacy

‘I know. I know.’ She and Eddie continued to embrace the little girl, then unwillingly withdrew. ‘Better get it over with,’ Nina told her husband. She took out her phone. ‘Oswald,’ she said, once she had been put through to Seretse. ‘It’s Nina.’ A long, deep breath. ‘We’ll do it.’

The view from the jet’s windows as it crossed the border from China into the so-called Hermit Kingdom revealed a striking contrast. Along the northern bank of the winding Yalu River sprawled numerous Chinese towns and cities, lights blazing in the night. To its south, though, was almost a wilderness, what settlements there were far smaller and more dimly lit than their counterparts across the water. The blackness was so empty that it could be mistaken for open ocean, only the occasional smudges of illumination breaking the illusion.

Eddie peered down at the isolated country below. ‘They must’ve forgotten to pay their electricity bill.’

‘Eddie,’ Nina cautioned quietly. The mission briefing by MacNeer and a coterie of State Department and CIA advisers before they left the United States had warned that not only would the trio of stony-faced North Korean ‘guides’ ostensibly accompanying them to translate and assist really be spying on everything they said and did, but also that the plane — and any other vehicle they travelled in — would be bugged.

The Yorkshireman was unconcerned, however. ‘What? There’s so few light bulbs, it looks like Norfolk down there.’

‘I assume if I were British I’d find that hilarious.’

‘If you were British, you’d say words like “mum” and “herb” properly.’

She gave a mocking snort, covering her nervousness as she noticed one of their minders seemingly taking a mental note of their conversation. To distract him, she asked a question. ‘How long before we land?’

Another of the guides glanced at his watch. ‘In twenty-five minutes, approximately.’ The Koreans spoke reasonably good English, but strongly accented.

‘Good. It’s been a long trip,’ said Eddie. They had flown from New York to China by commercial airline, being picked up by the North Korean plane for the last leg of the journey. ‘And the service hasn’t exactly been first class,’ he added in a fake whisper to his wife. ‘They didn’t even offer us a bag of peanuts.’ The nearest guide frowned slightly.

North Korea was a small country: at its narrowest point, less than two hundred miles separated the Chinese border from the heavily fortified demilitarised zone that lay between the Democratic People’s Republic and the vastly wealthier South Korea. Before long, the aircraft entered its final approach. Below was a large military airbase, the first brightly lit place they had seen since crossing the Yalu. A long, wide runway slashed across the landscape. The plane touched down on it, soon coming to a stop.

One of the guides opened the hatch and lowered the stairs. Nina and Eddie stood; another translator moved as if to take their single item of baggage, but the redhead quickly collected it. ‘Thanks, but I’ll carry that,’ she told him, lifting the padded plastic case containing the small Crucible.

Cold air hit them as they stepped on to the concrete. North Korea was nowhere near as frigid as Iceland, but there was still a bitter chill to the wind. To the new arrivals’ relief, a car was waiting for them, a large Chinese-built SUV. Eddie was not looking at the vehicle, however, but at something beyond it. ‘Bloody hell. That’s a big -arse plane.’

‘You’re not kidding,’ Nina agreed. Looming over its surroundings, so huge that its tail rose higher than the roof of even the largest hangar, was a Russian Antonov An-124 cargo aircraft. Built for the Soviet military, this one had been transferred to private hands, an air freight company’s name emblazoned on its side in Cyrillic lettering. It was slightly shorter than a Boeing 747, but much more bulky; practically the entire length of its swollen fuselage was a cavernous cargo hold, built to swallow trucks, helicopters, even tanks. ‘Wonder what that’s doing here?’

‘Maybe it’s carrying all the gold we asked for.’ They shared wry grins as their minders ushered them into the car.

The SUV set off, heading away from the runway towards a checkpoint in a high fence. Several guards were on duty, one shining a flashlight suspiciously over the vehicle’s occupants before waving to a comrade to let it through. They started up a winding road into the darkened hills beyond. Nina gave her husband a concerned look when she realised there were no safety barriers, only white-painted stone markers warning of the steep drop into the densely forested valley below. The surface had been asphalted, but it was broken and potholed, giving them a very bumpy ride.

They passed under a double line of electricity pylons, doing so again several minutes later as the twisting road doubled back upon itself. ‘Something up here needs a lot of juice,’ she whispered.

‘Maybe they really do have a…’ Eddie began, before noticing one of the guides surreptitiously tipping his head towards them. ‘Massive hairdryer,’ he finished. ‘Those things use a load of power.’

‘How would you know?’ his wife said, rubbing his shaved head. The remark proved that their travelling companions were indeed listening in, as one tried to hide a smirk.

The SUV continued its zigzagging ascent. A half-moon lit the landscape, revealing the brooding silhouette of a rocky peak rising above the forest. Eventually the road flattened out, leading them to another checkpoint. The driver’s credentials were checked, the passengers scrutinised by armed men, then finally a radio call was made to confirm that all was in order before they were allowed to pass through.

What awaited Nina and Eddie came as a surprise.

They knew there was a runway built on a plateau halfway up the small mountain, and that one end had been dug into its side — but they hadn’t been prepared for just how deeply it went into the heart of the peak. Lines of bright overhead lights receded into the distance, the runway continuing into the rock for almost as far as it extended in the open.

And the excavations were continuing, even at night. Trucks were bringing rocky debris out of the mountain and dumping it over the side of the plateau, going back underground for more as soon as they had delivered their loads. ‘Must be a really massive hairdryer,’ Eddie remarked.

Nina noticed a group of armed soldiers at the dump site; between them she glimpsed men and women in dirty grey clothing picking up rocks that had not gone over the edge. Prisoners? A forced labour detail? What she knew about the brutal North Korean regime, its appalling human rights abuses condemned by the UN in language as strong as diplomacy permitted, suggested that either guess was likely to be correct.

But the SUV swept onwards before she could get a clear look. The driver brought them down the runway, which was considerably narrower than the one at the base below, towards the gaping tunnel mouth. On each side of it were gun emplacements, turrets surrounded by sandbags. ‘Miniguns,’ said Eddie, seeing that the weapons were six-barrelled Gatling guns. ‘One way to put off the Jehovah’s Witnesses.’

‘I guess they really don’t want uninvited visitors,’ Nina replied.

They drove down the long tunnel. What she had thought was a concrete wall at its far end turned out to be a blockhouse, presumably to keep any planes with faulty brakes from careering into the still larger space that widened out beyond it. The SUV pulled up at the broad structure, where a rank of soldiers stood to attention. Two officers waited before them, watching their guests’ arrival.