Nguyen let his Chinese version of a soup spoon settle into his bowl of traditional Korean soup. The sounds penetrating the thin walls assured that no listening devices, if planted and that didn’t seem remotely possible, would hear nothing.

“When I stopped by your apartment in San Clemente to drop off the nativity scene I spoke with Mary for some time. She is the woman you described so often. She gave me your telephone number but that number’s been turned off since you moved. She also gave me a number for a man named Matt, so I called him. I had nowhere else to turn. When I called Matt he couldn’t help me with immigration or with getting me on a flight home but he did get me a flight on a military plane to Yongsan airport here in downtown Seoul.”

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