Free Robert Ludlum's (TM) the Janson Equation by Douglas Corleone

associates by setting up shell corporations around the globe. When Consular Operations finally decided to drop the dragnet on the Russian syndicate Berman was working with, Paul Janson deliberately let the effusive accountant go. Despite the protests of his Cons Ops colleagues, Janson viewed the decision like a chess move. Grigori Berman may have been a manipulator, a liar, and a thief. But he was also talented, clever, and—unlike his co-conspirators—nonviolent. Placing him in a prison would have done neither Janson nor Cons Ops any good. Having a man like Berman in his debt, on the other hand, gave Janson the potential ammunition to outsmart and outmaneuver scores of other criminals who were violent—evil men who were irredeemable and who would inevitably do irreparable damage to society.
    In hindsight, Janson’s chess move was one of the most brilliant of his career. A few years ago when Janson was framed for the contract murder of billionaire philanthropist Peter Novak, it was Grigori Berman who discovered that the $16 million placed in Janson’s offshore account as alleged payment for the hit actually originated from Novak’s own foundation. Shortly after that discovery, Berman took a sniper’s bullet in the chest—a bullet that had been meant for Paul Janson. Thankfully, the large Russian recovered. And not only was Berman not angry afterward, but he also risked everything to help Janson put the final nail in the coffin of the Mobius Program—by manipulating a crooked foreign banker and causing the then president of the United States of America , Charles W. Berquist Jr., to receive and accept an illegal $1.5 million personal contribution, which Janson then used as leverage.
    Now that Janson thought about it, maybe Grigori Berman’s debt had been paid.
    Well, Berman doesn’t need to know that.
    “So, what can I do for you, Paulie?”
    “I’m trying to track down a hacker in Seoul. Goes by the screen name Lord Wicked.” Janson spelled out the queer combination of letters and numbers.
    “Ah, Lord Wicked ,” Berman said.
    “You’ve heard of him.”
    “Everyone in the cybersecurity industry has heard of him. He’s a living legend.”
    “Can you help me locate him?”
    “Ordinarily, I would say nyet . A man of his prowess, he undoubtedly reroutes his servers to countries all over the world. But since you know which city he is in, I should be able to dox him within the hour.”
    “Dox him?”
    “Unearth his personal details,” Berman said. “His real name, his home address, his telephone number. Maybe even his mother’s maiden name.”
    “Skip the mother’s maiden name,” Janson said. “Get me the rest as quickly as you can.”
    *  *  *
    F IFTY-SIX MINUTES LATER Grigori Berman called Janson back with the details.
    “His name is Jung Kang,” Berman said. “Or Kang Jung, if you place the last name first as the Koreans do. He has two known addresses. One is in Itaewon, in the Yongsan district. The other address is in Gangnam—you know, like the song, Paulie? ‘ Heeeyyy, sexy lady! Oppa Gangnam style… ’”
    “I’ve heard the song, Grigori. How about giving me the addresses?”
    Twenty minutes later a young woman exited the main lobby of the Cheongwha Apartments, and Janson slipped in with a practiced pronunciation of the Korean term for “thank you” and a warm smile.
    Since Janson was already in Itaewon when he spoke to Berman, it made sense for him to check out Kang Jung’s Yongsan address and leave the Gangnam address for Kincaid, who’d last reported to him that she’d followed the ambassador’s chief aide to an upscale restaurant across from Dosan Park. But when Janson called Kincaid to relay Kang Jung’s Gangnam address he received no answer. Once ten minutes passed without a callback, he began to feel slightly on edge. But he was sure it was nothing. Maybe the ambassador’s aide had dropped into the restaurant for a single drink then returned to the subway station for