Brink of Chaos Read Free Page B

up his press badge, which was hanging around his neck. “Aw, now, that’s not friendly. I’m a reporter. International press corps. I always thought you Americans believed in freedom of the press.”
    “In case you didn’t notice,” Ethan snapped back, “we’re not in America. Maybe you ought to find an Outback somewhere and have them grill you some shrimp on the barbie —”
    But a voice stopped him. “Ethan,” Joshua said as he put his hand on his assistant’s shoulder. “It’s okay. I’ll give them a few minutes. Then we’ll be on our way.”
    “Thanks much, Mr. Jordan,” the Aussie said. “You’re a true gentleman.” Then he snatched his tiny notepad from his pocket. “Just wondering, sir, whether you have any regrets —”
    “About what?”
    “About designing the Return-to-Sender anti-missile system, which ended up dropping two nuclear warheads onto a North Korean Navy vessel and incinerating it, evaporating every sailor on board.”
    Joshua had heard that one before. Different approach, but with the same sharp point at the end of the stick. He said, “I don’t regret the fact that my RTS stopped those nukes from detonating in New York City where they were heading at the time, no. And yes, I know that my RTS system — my missile-defense shield — took the trajectory of those nukes and reversed them, sending them back to the vessel that launched them. I’d always hoped that my RTS laser defense would be a deterrent to war. Saving lives. And protecting nonaggressors, my country in this case, from the hasty actions of despots who fire missiles first and think later.”
    From where Joshua stood, the Aussie was blocking Han Suk Yong from view. So Joshua could not see the eyes of the North Korean, which were so intense they looked like they had been lit on fire.
    “And then,” the Australian continued, “there is the matter of the criminal charges pending against you in the American court. Charges of treason. Your group, the so-called Roundtable, was blamed for botching a vigilante attempt to stop some unidentified individuals with a portable nuke. As the leader of that group, of course, you must take some responsibility. So how do you feel knowing that as a result, thousands died in New Jersey when the bomb went off?”
    “There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about that — the loss of life,” Joshua replied. “But one clarification. In point of fact, theallegations technically refer to my supposed conspiracy to interfere with the operations of the United States government. False charges, I might add”.
    “If that’s true, rather than avoiding extradition, which you’ve been doing, why not return to America and fight the case like the hero that some folks think you are?”
    Ethan intervened. “Okay. Interview’s over …”
    “No, Ethan, I want to answer,” Joshua snapped back. Then he stared the reporter down and threw him a cocked eyebrow. “You see, sir, I’ve been given advice from Abigail Jordan to remain out of the jurisdiction of the U.S. until I can get a fair trial for those wrongful, politically motivated criminal charges brought against me by the current administration in Washington. Now, the thing about Abigail is this — she’s not only my lawyer, she’s also my wife. So right there,” he said, breaking into a grin, “I’ve given you two good reasons I ought to listen to her. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have to be on our way.”
    The Australian scratched a few notes on his pad, nodded and then trotted off.
    Han Suk Yong approached Joshua.
    “Sorry, no more interviews,” Ethan said.
    “But Colonel Jordan,” Han said, “I am great admirer.”
    “Thanks,” Joshua said.
    “I am with, uh … a very small news office.” Han lifted his phony press badge. “But I have something very, very personal. Need to ask you. Just take a minute. Please sir, could we just walk to quiet place. Here in parking lot?”
    “It’s okay,” Joshua said to