Part 9 (2/2)

I looked at Mr. Baek and asked him if he knew what was happening.

”Laura, have you heard the saying 'There's truth in wine'? It means the truth comes out when you've been drinking. I think he's telling you the truth.”

”It can't be true,” I protested. ”I can't go to prison. I need to see my family.”

”I'm so sorry,” he said with downcast eyes. ”You really are here at the worst possible time. Relations between our countries haven't been this bad since the Korean War.”

I retreated to a corner in my room, curled myself up into a ball on the floor, and wept uncontrollably. A few days later, I was informed that a trial had been set for early June. I was also told that I would be allowed a second visit with Amba.s.sador Foyer, and that I could give him the letters for my family and bosses at Current TV.

When we arrived at the Yanggakdo Hotel, I was led to the same floor where I'd met him before. It was May 15. A month and a half had pa.s.sed since my first meeting with the amba.s.sador. During that time, I'd been grilled over and over by Mr. Yee and had confessed to attempting to bring down the North Korean government. Now I was set to stand before a judge in court.

Pictures of Kim Il Sung and Kim Jong Il seemed to be watching my every move. There were several small conference rooms, and I was taken inside one of them and told I would wait for about fifteen minutes. I could hear the amba.s.sador's voice outside in the hallway. He was being led into one of the other conference rooms, and I suspected Euna must be meeting with him first. Imagining Euna in the same building as me, perhaps just one or two doors down, made me feel jittery and emotional. I wanted desperately to see her, to run out of the room and hold her.

When Amba.s.sador Foyer finally came into the room, I felt like I was being reunited with a long lost family member, even though I'd met him only once before. I could see he was searching me with his eyes to get a sense of my physical condition. Knowing that this meeting was critical and that I might not get another chance to see him, I repeatedly spoke of the need for urgent action to avert the trial.

”I know that if we go to trial the sentencing will be very harsh,” I said, trying to hold back tears and maintain my composure.

The amba.s.sador looked at me rea.s.suringly and said in his soft-spoken voice, ”You should understand that a trial is not necessarily a bad thing. It is part of a process.”

”But, Amba.s.sador, they are going to send us to prison for a very, very long time, perhaps for most of our lives. Please try to see if my government can do something before the trial.”

”Laura, a number isn't always what it means, remember that,” he responded. He said he was requesting that he be present at the trial.

I handed him an envelope containing my letters and hugged him tightly before being escorted out of the room.

LISA.

IT WAS TWO MONTHS to the day since Laura and Euna were captured, the morning of May 15. I was driving to the gym when my BlackBerry buzzed with a message. It was an e-mail from Linda, and it had an attachment. The subject line read: ”letter from Laura.” I pulled over to the side of the road, parked my car, and then hit to the day since Laura and Euna were captured, the morning of May 15. I was driving to the gym when my BlackBerry buzzed with a message. It was an e-mail from Linda, and it had an attachment. The subject line read: ”letter from Laura.” I pulled over to the side of the road, parked my car, and then hit DOWNLOAD ATTACHMENT DOWNLOAD ATTACHMENT. As it was opening, I could see a scan of a handwritten letter. It was Laura's writing! I was too excited to go to the gym and turned my car around to head home; I had to open the letter on my computer.

Linda's e-mail said Laura had given the letter to Amba.s.sador Foyer. It was my first real contact with my sister in eight weeks. Laura had actually been able to get five letters out through the amba.s.sador: one to Joel Hyatt of Current TV, one to her colleagues, one to Iain, one to our parents, and one to me. The content of the letters varied greatly. To Hyatt, Laura urged the need for diplomatic intervention and asked if he could get Vice President Gore to help. She didn't know that Gore was already involved. To Iain, Laura apologized for making work such a priority. She wrote, ”If I'm lucky enough to come home, I promise, no more traveling for me.”

To our parents, Laura wrote that she was okay. She said she was being treated fairly and asked them not to worry about her and to take care of themselves. She also wrote eloquently about how she spent her days.

...When I first got here, I cried so much. Now I cry less. I breathe deeply and think about the positive things that happened in the day. For example, I think, ”I'm lucky I've gotten through another day,” ”I'm lucky I'm not in prison,” ”I'm lucky I saw a b.u.t.terfly.”...Each night I am thankful to have gotten through another day. And each day when I wake up, I hope it is bringing me closer to home...Stay strong and please take care of yourselves. That is my biggest request. Know that I am doing okay and dreaming about being reunited with you all again....

The letter to me was more urgent.

...As I'm sure you know, I am in the worst possible situation. I have confessed to some very serious crimes that are regarded as hostile actions toward the DPRK. And while I have expressed my deepest regret for my wrongdoings, I'm not sure it will be enough to send me home anytime soon. I am scared.I am desperately hoping that some sort of serious diplomatic intervention by the U.S. government can be made before our cases go to trial. I fear that if something at a higher level is not done soon, I will find myself serving a very long prison sentence. That is a thought that is too hard to bear.I love you so much, Li. You've looked out for me my entire life. I am so fortunate to have such an amazing big sister. I know the whole family leans on you for support. Be strong....

The difference in the letters was a window into my relations.h.i.+p with Laura. She didn't want to worry our parents, who she knew were already devastated and petrified. I imagined my sister in a room alone, filled with stress over the right language to employ in her first communication to her family. It was painful to think about Laura nervously but methodically trying to think of the exact words to use. I could see her penning the letters using her left hand, and I thought about the days when we were kids and our grandmother used to try to force her to use her right hand. She just couldn't. Laura was born a leftie and would always stay that way, to our grandma's chagrin.

I know she was scared. I could see the fear in her perfectly written letters. This was her only way to reach me, and she needed me to understand the seriousness of her situation. Laura knew that among our family members, I was the one who could possibly move the needle. I had connections in the political world and in media, and Laura knew I would not give up until I got her out of there.

Mom was continuing to leave highly emotional phone messages and send correspondence to Minister Kim at North Korea's Permanent Mission to the United Nations, also known as the ”New York channel.” To her great surprise, on one occasion Minister Kim actually picked up the phone. He expressed his regret for what was happening, but he told Mom that my sister's situation was not in his hands, rather in those in Pyongyang. She said he seemed genuinely regretful and she made a point of saying that he actually sounded like a kind man. Nevertheless, the next day and every day thereafter, Mom followed up with a letter, fax, e-mail, and call to him.

Meanwhile, the political situation on the Korean Peninsula was growing worse and worse. North Korea was threatening to test a nuclear device for the second time in its history. In response, the global community, led by the United States, warned of severe consequences should it go through with its intended actions.

On May 25, the U.S. Geological Survey reported a 4.7-magnitude quake in the northeastern part of North Korea, around the town of Kilju. Geological agencies in both South Korea and the United States said the tremor indicated a nuclear explosion. North Korea had made good on its declaration to resume its nuclear program and had tested a nuclear device.

President Obama immediately issued a strongly worded statement charging that North Korea's pursuit of nuclear weapons and ballistic missiles threatened peace and was in ”blatant defiance of the United Nations Security Council.” He went on to say: ”The danger posed by North Korea's threatening activities warrants action by the international community. We have been and will continue working with our allies and partners in the six-party talks as well as other members of the UN Security Council in the days ahead.”

The United States was not alone in lambasting North Korea for its alleged defiance of the world powers. French officials said they would push for new sanctions. British Prime Minister Gordon Brown called the test a ”danger to the world.” Russian authorities compared the power of North Korea's bomb to that which obliterated Hiros.h.i.+ma and Nagasaki, and its foreign ministry called the explosion ”a serious blow to international efforts to prevent the spread of nuclear weapons.” Even Pyongyang's more frequent defender, China, said it was ”resolutely opposed” to the test.

The United Nations Security Council immediately convened another emergency session. But this time, few believed that sanctions would not be imminent. North Korea seemed to be defying the whole world, including its allies, by its acts of purported aggression. This was one of the tensest periods ever in U.S.North Korean relations. Never before had both China and Russia made such public condemnations of their Communist ally. My sister was in the middle of a full-blown nuclear standoff.

LAURA.

EVEN AFTER I I HAD HAD made the confession the North Koreans wanted, the investigation continued with more questions about our doc.u.mentary project. Now Mr. Yee wanted to know about the Internet s.e.x worker we'd interviewed at our hotel. I told him what I asked her and how she responded. I also gave him a general description of her appearance. ”She's a little shorter than me, with long black hair. She wore black boots and a white jacket and had on a lot of makeup. I would guess she's probably in her midtwenties.” I could have been talking about half the girls in China. But whenever he asked me for the names of sources and interview subjects, I always gave the same answer: ”I don't recall her name. I just referred to everyone as 'Sir' or 'Miss.'” made the confession the North Koreans wanted, the investigation continued with more questions about our doc.u.mentary project. Now Mr. Yee wanted to know about the Internet s.e.x worker we'd interviewed at our hotel. I told him what I asked her and how she responded. I also gave him a general description of her appearance. ”She's a little shorter than me, with long black hair. She wore black boots and a white jacket and had on a lot of makeup. I would guess she's probably in her midtwenties.” I could have been talking about half the girls in China. But whenever he asked me for the names of sources and interview subjects, I always gave the same answer: ”I don't recall her name. I just referred to everyone as 'Sir' or 'Miss.'”

My unwillingness to cooperate about names of sources angered him, but for me it was not an option to put these people in any more jeopardy than they were already in. The only name I volunteered was that of Andrei Lankov, whom we had interviewed in Seoul. Mr. Lankov is a well-known authority on North Korea who has written lengthy papers about it and speaks publicly about his research. I knew they would not be happy that we'd spoken to him, because of some of his critical a.s.sessments, but I wanted to give them at least one name, and I knew Lankov would not be in any danger. I wanted to seem as if I was cooperating to the best of my ability.

One day Mr. Yee brought in the pocket-sized tan notebook I'd been carrying during the trip.

”Is this yours?” he asked.

”Yes,” I replied.

”Did you use it to write down any notes during this trip?”

I knew I needed to admit to destroying and tampering with evidence when Euna and I were at one of the detention facilities along the border. I told Mr. Yee what we'd done, including swallowing the sheets from my notebook. He flipped through the pages and saw some notes I had jotted down from previous a.s.signments. One page had the name Rory Reid and a list of questions that I had asked Reid, the chairman of the Clark County Commission in Nevada, during an interview I conducted about the declining economy of Las Vegas.

”If you've written his name down, you must have written the names of the people you interviewed in China,” he charged.

”Sir, I knew the report about defectors was sensitive in both China and North Korea. That's why I didn't doc.u.ment anyone's names. I didn't want to endanger anyone.”

I was telling the truth. The only names I had in my notebook were Pastor Chun's and Andrei Lankov's. The notes I'd destroyed were for the interviews with Chun and Lankov, and they had to do with the regime's stability and whether it would survive for very long. I knew such questions would infuriate the authorities. So while it didn't look good that we had gotten rid of the pages, I felt glad we had.

Part of the investigation required me to submit a written confession of what I had conveyed to Mr. Yee in our daily sessions. The confession had to be written neatly-if I made any mistakes, or crossed out any words because of a misspelling, Mr. Yee would make me rewrite the page. I ended up penning a draft and then copying it again in perfect handwriting. Over the course of a week, I wrote more than one hundred pages, sixty-five of which were part of the final confession doc.u.ment. I woke up in the morning and wrote throughout the day.

One afternoon, as I was hunched over the desk in the guards' room with pen in hand, Min-Jin walked over and handed me a few pieces of candy. ”Don't tell the other guard,” she said. Touched by this gesture, I slipped the round, sugary ball into my mouth. When Hyung-Yee entered the room, I quickly put the candies in my coat pocket and went back to my writing. Soon after, Min-Jin left the room to take a break, and I was left with Hyung-Yee.

While Hyung-Yee did not speak any English, we still found ways to communicate on a certain level. She was a sweet, lighthearted girl who took pleasure in singing patriotic anthems at the top of her lungs. Sometimes I would catch her mimicking me. If I coughed, she coughed. When I sighed in desperation, she sighed. I'd snap my fingers and she'd follow along. She never continued with these antics for very long, just long enough for us to share in a moment of amus.e.m.e.nt.

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