70

BEST BURGERS IN THE US OF A,” ED DECLARED AS HE PUT HIS TRAY DOWN next to Mitch’s.

Cho gave the bacon-guacamole Ed had recommended a doubtful look. “I have eaten McDonald’s before. Is Carl’s Jr. so much better?”

“Take a bite and find out.”

When Cho continued to hesitate, Mitch chimed in. “You can trust Ed on two things: burgers and coffee. Not much else—and never let him set you up on a blind date.”

Ed chuffed. “That was five years ago!”

“I still have nightmares. Anyway, he knows his burgers.”

With that reassurance, Cho took a bite. A dollop of green goop came out of the other side of the bun, landing on his tray with a plop. His eyes lit up and he nodded. “Mmmm.”

“Told you!” Ed crowed.

Cho swallowed and wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. “This is very good. Thank you.”

Ed inclined his head. “Don’t mention it. You saved our lives. The least we can do is buy you dinner.”

“I am sad I am eating here for first time at the end of my trip. There is no Carl’s Jr. in South Korea.” He took another bite.

“Or in North Korea, I’ll bet.”

Cho shook his head. “I think not,” he said around a mouthful of burger.

Ed grinned and winked. “Oh, I’m guessing that you know not.”

Cho stopped chewing and stared at him.

Ed turned and picked up a shopping bag. “That reminds me.” He put the bag on the table. “Here’s a little gift from Mitch and me.”

Cho looked in the bag and lifted out a used video game console and a package of old games. He looked at them quizzically. “Thank you.”

“Our pleasure,” said Ed. “We thought you might want to practice your Nintendo skills. See, I was on a lot of jobs in South Korea in the eighties and nineties, when you were growing up. All the kids had Nintendos back then. You’d see ’em playing Gameboys on the bus, and when I went over to a coworker’s house, you’d always—and I mean always—see a console by the TV if they had kids.”

Cho nodded. “I remember.”

Ed’s eyebrows went up. “Really? You didn’t act like it on the ship. Remember when we were playing Super Mario Bros. together? You acted like you’d never played a Nintendo before.”

“I was acting North Korean.”

“It was a good act. Really good. So good that people might think you really were North Korean. ’Cause, you know, that would explain a lot.”

“I am happy my acting convinced you.”

Ed nodded at the console. “My apartment is just a block away. What do you say we plug that thing in and you can show me how good you really are? I’ll play Luigi, and you can have Mario.”

Cho looked down at the console. “I must prepare for the flight to Korea. I have much to do. I am sorry.”

Ed reached across the table and clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t be, comrade. Your secret is safe with us. You stopped a nuclear war and saved our lives. What do we care if you infiltrated the South Korean Navy while you were doing that? You think we’d turn you in?”

Cho stared at him for a second, then tossed back his head and laughed. “You are a funny man, Ed Granger!”

Kim Tae-woo sat in his hotel room near the Oakland Airport, staring at the Nintendo console Granger and Daniels had given him. What if one of the South Koreans had been paying attention when Granger had been teaching him to play Super Mario Bros.? What if Granger and Daniels had talked to the CIA rather than him?

He shook his head. Future agents would need to be better trained. In the meantime, he needed to fill this hole in his knowledge.

He plugged the console into the hotel room TV set, inserted the Super Mario Bros. cartridge, and set out to rescue Princess Peach.