"Mr. Jang Tae-san?"

"Who's asking?"

Gimpo Airport, where I'd come to board the private jet Robert had sent.

I'd cleared departure screening and was heading for the gate when two burly men in black sunglasses came up to me.

Swish.

An ID, flashed from a wallet.

"Wait, why me?"

An NIS agent, the kind I'd only seen in movies, was blocking my way.

Surely not, I thought.

I had a retired agent I'd smuggled off to America, so I tensed up.

Back in 2008, the NIS was still an untouchable power.

In a country living with the pain of division, it was one of Korea's most powerful law-enforcement agencies.

"Nothing to be alarmed about. The Deputy Director would like to see you for a moment."

"The Deputy Director?"

I had a strong feeling the NIS was lining up to stick a straw in me too.

I didn't sense any hostility.

But it put me in a bad mood.

They'd been watching me, and they'd blocked my way on the road out.

One phone call would settle it, but I was more curious than anything.

Why would a deputy director—the rank they call the NIS's number two—want to see me?

"It'll only take a moment."

The NIS agent was very polite(?) about it.

I had him sized up right away.

"Let's go."

"Thank you."

Escorted by NIS agents, I went into the terminal building.

The NIS agents' secret office I'd only heard about came into view.

Cameras and security guards watched the entrance.

The department handled national security and terrorism, and the agents coming and going had hard eyes.

I wondered what went on in the heads of the president and his men who'd reduce special talent like this to a comment army.

They must have heard a hundred times that no power lasts forever, and they still never learned it.

"Go on in."

The agents stopped in front of a heavy, shielded door.

"Which Deputy Director is it?"

"First Deputy Director Jeong Guk-jong."

The NIS First Deputy Director, in charge of overseas operations.

He must have caught Robert and me…