angle. Worse, there wasn’t a level patch anywhere on the course. The burns, sways, gorse-topped hummocks and treacherous sand traps required intense concentration on every shot. Dayna would have a real challenge to keep her ball in play and Wu Kim Li in her sights.
She found the North Korean holding court at the practice center.
A modern facility devoted to the art and science of golf, the center’s driving range boasted sixty bays with air-cushioned mats and automated power tees. Wu Kim Li occupied the center bay—in full view of television crews crammed into the glassed-in viewing area, naturally.
By shamelessly playing on her name and former Olympic glory, Dayna had snagged the bay next to the teenaged megastar. She waited patiently until the golfer who had it before her finished, then walked out to the open-sided booth. Removing the head cover from her driver, Dayna hooked the club at the small of her back and did a few stretching exercises.
The movement snagged the attention of a woman two stalls down. Obviously an amateur, the observer violated range etiquette by calling an excited greeting.
“Hi, Dayna! I’m Ann Foster. I saw you were registered for this tournament. Hope we get to play together.”
Reluctant to disturb the others’ concentration, Dayna merely smiled and tipped her club in response. The golfer in the next bay, however, wasn’t nearly as restrained.
“Tak-cho!” Wu Kim Li followed her disgusted exclamation with an immediate translation. “That mean be quiet. We practice here.”
Kim Li turned her back on the now thoroughly embarrassed amateur. Eyes narrow, she raked Dayna from the brim of her ball cap to her soft-spike shoes. She was sizing up the competition obviously, or trying to pysch her out.
No stranger to the guerilla warfare of sports, Dayna teed up a ball and swung. Her driver connected with a solid whap. The ball soared in a high, smooth arc. With another loud crack, it bounced off the metal sign designating the two-hundred-and-fifty-yards mark.
Not bad for a first practice shot. Not bad at all—unless, of course, you were trying to worm your way into the good graces of a rival sports star like Wu Kim Li.
Dayna could feel the competitive vibes eddying across the stall as the North Korean addressed her ball. With a whoosh, Wu’s driver sliced through the air.
Two seventy.
Dayna teed up, swung again.
Two seventy-five.
Wu’s driver descended, connected.
Three hundred, or close enough to generate an outburst of spontaneous applause from the women who’d interrupted their practice to watch the impromptu competition. Wu accepted the ovation as her due and unbent enough to offer Dayna a grudging compliment.
“Your swing very good.”
“Not as good as yours.”
“I young,” Wu said with a careless shrug. “Have more strength.”
Yeah, right. Dayna would love to plunk the little twerp into a kayak, drop her in Alberta’s Castle River during the spring runoff and let her see what kind of strength it took to finish the course.
Trying her damnedest to sound friendly, she teed up another ball. “They draw for the initial pairings at the banquet tonight. Maybe we’ll play together.”
Wu turned away with another shrug.
The kickoff banquet was held at the venerable Royal and Ancient Golf Clubhouse.
Showered, shaved and looking ruggedly handsome in tan slacks and a navy blazer with an embroidered Military Marksmanship Association patch on its pocket, Mike escorted Dayna into a banquet hall lavish with eighteenth-century crown moldings and intricately patterned parquet floors. Tables laden with glowing candles and sparkling crystal added to the elegant atmosphere. The waiters wore tuxedos, the women were in cocktail dresses and many of the Scottish tournament officials sported kilts. The talk, however, was all sports.
Dayna introduced Mike to some of the greats in women’s golf, many of whom said graciously that they hoped to draw her for a partner. She also met a number of the amateurs who, like her, had interrupted busy professional lives to play in this charity tournament. All the while she and Mike kept steering toward their targets.
“There they are,” Dayna murmured, indicating the Wus with a small nod.
The Koreans stood in the middle of a swarm of TV execs and tournament officials. The group also included Kim Li’s support team—her manager, her trainer, her agent, her PR rep, her bodyguards. Every one of them, Dayna knew, charged with ensuring that North Korea’s darling and her father returned home after the tournament.
Kim Li spotted their approach and summoned them into her royal presence with a lift of her chin. Her dark eyes were all over Mike as Dayna made the intros.
“This is my friend, Mike Callahan.”
“This my father, Dr. Wu Xia-Dong.”
Both Mike and Dayna shook the scientist’s hand. She didn’t need more than a touch of Wu’s clammy palm to sense his nervousness.
“You must be very proud of your daughter.”
The flicker of acknowledgment in his eyes told Dayna he’d understood the compliment, but he waited to respond until a North Korean with a badge that identified him as an official interpreter had murmured in his ear.
“So sorry. My English very bad.” Wu turned a smile on his daughter. “Kim Li make all Korea proud.”
The girl returned it with the first genuine warmth Dayna had seen on her face. Whatever else the teen had going on in her life, she obviously loved her dad.
They couldn’t have spent much time together. The detailed dossier OMEGA had assembled on the Wus indicated Kim Li had lived at a government-sponsored athletic training center for thirteen of her eighteen years. Dr. Wu’s work had kept him isolated at the center of a small, highly select cadre of scientists. Kim Li’s mother was the one who’d made periodic visits to the training center until her death a few years ago. Yet the bond between father and daughter seemed as strong and unshakable as the report had suggested.
Any defection would definitely have to be a package deal.
That thought stayed with Dayna throughout the banquet and the pairings that followed. By the luck of the draw, she was teamed with Eleanor Tolbert. A longtime member of the Ladies Professional Golf Association, Eleanor was one of its biggest money-winners. She and Dayna would have been the team to beat in scratch golf, but this was a charity event so handicaps were used to level the playing field. The ranker the amateur, the higher her handicap and the more strokes deducted from her final score.
Wu Kim Li drew one of those high-handicapped amateurs for her partner. An Irish neurosurgeon, as it turned out, with little time for golf but a wild enthusiasm for the sport. Flame-haired Brianna Kilkenny towered over her partner during the media barrage that followed the drawing. Unwilling to stand in anyone’s shadow, Wu adroitly sidestepped and took the cameras with her.
To Dayna’s intense satisfaction, the links draw put her and Eleanor on the same course as Kim Li and her partner for the
