North Korean Blowup (10 page)

“Go now,” Dr. Sung shouted. The three families ran for the helicopter.

Before they were half loaded a car with siren whining raced down the coast highway toward them. Hunter lifted his MP-5 and waited until the car’s flashing lights were in range. He sent a six round burst of Parabellums at the car when it was thirty yards away. The windshield shattered and the sedan skidded to a stop on the edge of the road. A hand gun fired at Hunter’s position.

Hunter slammed six more rounds into the car, then a rifle cracked and Hunter felt the round jolt into the tree beside him. He hosed down the car with the rest of the magazine, changed and had a new one in before any more rounds came.

“Glocks fire just to dissuade them, now,” Hunter said into his radio mike.

He heard the other weapons firing. He put another magazine of rounds into the police car. Then used the radio again.

“Let’s bug out of here, hit that chopper. Go, go, go.”

The three SEALs ran for the helicopter. Dr. Sung was just stepping into the bird, the last of his clan. The SEALs dove in the door and Hunter shouted. “Move out.” The door jolted closed and the bird lifted off the sand, turned and slanted out to sea.

Hunter worked his way through the bodies to the cockpit.

“Any enemy air?” he asked the pilot.

“None so far, sir. Oh, oh. I’m getting some word from the Falcons that they have radar of two bogies coming up fast from the south. They say the bad guys are at least thirty miles off.”

“That’s about six minutes away. We have those Falcons nearby?

“They just vectored to meet the bogies with a fly by. Keep them occupied so they won’t look for us.”

“Let’s hope. We’re over half way home. If the skipper gets the can where he should have it we will be there in three minutes.” The pilot used his radio then.

“Tin Can this is Chopsticks One. We’re over half way. Is our air defense holding?”

      “Chopsticks One. Air cover has drawn bogies out over the bay in international waters. No lock ons and no splashes. We won’t even make the papers.  We’ll be at Twelve Mile in two minutes. We have you on radar. Keep coming.”

“Roger that, Skipper.”

Before Hunter could look out through the windshield to see if he could find the destroyer steaming toward them, a blur to his right turned into a supersonic jet fighter roar as an aircraft slammed over them at less than fifty feet. The North Korean jet fighter created a tremendous turbulence with its fly by and the Navy chopper went into a dangerous dive to the left. The pilot struggled to bring it out of the dive and back under control before they crashed into Korea Bay less than a hundred feet below.

“Hang on to something,” Hunter bellowed.

CHAPTER EIGHT

The chopper pilots fought the controls to bring the Seahawk out of the dive.

“What the hell was that?” the pilot bellowed.

“A North Korean fighter jet with a mad as hell pilot because his commanders probably wouldn’t let him shoot us down,” Hunter said.

The craft stabilized for a moment, then slewed sideways and dropped again toward the waves of Korea Bay below.

“More power right now,” the pilot shouted.

The craft shook and gyrated a moment, then with the water only a dozen feet below righted itself and made a slow climb away from the bay.

“Tin Can this is Copsticks. Just had a flyover by enemy air that almost put is in the wet. Any help around?”

“We have him on our screens. A Falcon is rushing your way. Two minutes. Stay low. We have you on screen. You’re about three minutes away from our deck. We’re reducing speed to ten knots and going at a hundred and eighty away from you. The Falcon is coming.”

Hunter craned his neck to look out the window. He watched to the right where the North Korean jet had vanished. It could be doing a ten mile circle and coming back at them. They might not have two minutes. He saw a dot on a scattering of white clouds far to the right. That could be the jet slamming at them at five hundred and fifty miles an hour. Maybe thirty seconds away.

“Chopsticks One, this is Falcon One. Have you on screen. The bogey is about three miles to your right and coming on fast. We should be right on top of him in ten seconds. Lighting him up now. Yes, he doesn’t like that. He’s breaking to the left, landward. He should be out of your hair. How close are you to the twelve mile?”

“Another minute, maybe two.”

“We’ll CAP you the rest of the way. We have no more bogies on screen. Have a good landing.”

“Thanks Falcon One. We owe you big time.”

“Chopsticks One, this is Tin Can. We have you on screen. Heading still the same, making ten knots. Come on home.”
               Hunter saw the destroyer then, plowing through the Korean Bay waters. After some more radio chatter, the pilot brought the Seahawk into a soft landing on the chopper pad and it was tied down. The door opened and crewmen escorted the civilians off the deck and into the two big compartments they had ready for them. The destroyer made a turn south and headed back for South Korean waters and its home port.

Doyle Quinn found Dr. Sung and took him into a small cabin and began debriefing him before the destroyer completed its turn.

“Dr. Sung. Good to meet you. My name is Doyle Quinn. I work with the U.S. Government. We’re delighted to have you back on our side. The first thing we need to know is where the two completed bombs are being stored.”

Dr. Sung shook hands with Quinn, picked a Coke from the assortments of soft drinks available and let out a huge sigh.

“Mr. Quinn, I’m so glad to be out of North Korea that I could scream for joy. Out with all of my family. Now they won’t be able to retaliate against us. I’m overjoyed and a bit misty eyed. I’ve dreamed of this day for so long that it hardly seems real to me right now. It will sink in after a few days. The location. Yes. I told your Lieutenant   Hunter. One of the bombs is to the north at Kangge. That’s about twenty miles from the China border and about a hundred miles inland. The other bomb is at Kilchu near the east coast.”

He stood up suddenly. “Oh no. I don’t have my passport. None of my family does and my brothers never have had any.”

“That’s not a problem, Dr. Sung. We can arrange new passports for you and all of your family members. We’ll do it in Seoul at our Immigration office. Don’t worry, it’s not a problem.  One other point.

“The United States Government understands that you were kidnapped in North Korea. We know that your family and those of your two brothers were threatened with death if you did not cooperate with them and assist them in designing and constructing nuclear devices. You will not be charged with any crimes in this matter. We rejoice that you and your families are rescued and free and on your way back to the United States. Your brothers and their families will be granted immediate entrance into the country with the hope that they will apply for citizenship after the usual five years. I hope this relieves any doubts you had that you might be in trouble. You definitely are not.

“The information you give us about the bomb’s location and the manufacturing plant could mean that you will receive a reward and the thanks of the United States Government.”

Dr. Sung sat down and covered his face with his hands. Tears seeped between his fingers and when he looked up his face was streaked with wetness.

“I…..”  He stopped and shook his head. Then he cried again and

hid his face.

“Dr. Sung. Your ten years of terror are over. That’s all behind you now. I’m sure the academic community will be delighted to have you return to the fold.”

Quinn slipped out the door, nodded at the guard on the door and went to see Hunter.

Quinn found Hunter and took him and his three man planning group into a compartment with a desk and maps of North Korea and they started to work out the next operation.

Tran stared at the map.

“That little town is a hundred miles inland. How about a HALO jump. Get us close to the target quicker.”

Quinn shook his head. “No way. We can’t get a plane in that far and back out without it being riddled by North Korean jets. These guys are good with their radar protection. They’d have you as soon as you crossed the twelve mile limit and before you got over their landfall.”

“So we have to do a wet landing and choggie up there a hundred miles on foot?” Hunter asked.

“I don’t see any other way,” Chief Chapman said.  “There has to be a highway of some kind near the border with China. We’ll be going up there within an eyelash of the Chinkos.”

Chang studied the large scale maps. “Yes, there is a road that works its way up the border with China. It doesn’t look like a super highway, but one that we can use. We’ll have to borrow a small truck from some willing North Korean.”

Quinn shook his head. “How in hell are you going to drive up the road, through the road blocks and check points with sixteen Americans in the truck?”

Tran laughed and lifted his fist into the air. “I’ve got it. First we wear our Korean clothes. We all have dyed black hair and we are a traveling soccer team. The North Koreans are crazy over football, as they call it. We can be on a tour and playing local teams. It will be a natural.”

“Uniforms?” Hunter asked.

“You betcha,” Tran said. “The tailor shop at the base should be able to come up with soccer shirts for us with a logo of some kind on it. A Korean logo.”

They all looked at Quinn.

“Yeah, I guess they could. Sounds like it would work. We’ll ask our North Korean expert about the soccer team idea.”

“What about Commander Darby?” Chief Chapman asked.

“No problem there,” Quinn said. “Yesterday she had a haircut. Not quite a whiteside, but short enough to pass for a man. Without makeup and a few dirt smudges, she’ll get by easy.”

“What about weapons?” Hunter asked. “We hope to be able to slip up the hundred miles without our cover being detected. After we blow up that first bomb we’ll be on the run with about a million North Korean boy san soldiers on our tail.”

“On this one we take all non-US weapons except for the Bull Pup.” Quinn said. “The director was clear about those instructions for any operations on North Korean soil.”

“We can live with that,” Hunter said. “That means we can use any of the H&K weapons. We take our sniper rifles, and the MP5’s.”

“H&K has a neat little hand gun, the P-7, a nine millimeter with an eight round magazine,” Tran said. “We could use them if any are available over here.”

“I’ll check with the ordinance people,” Quinn said. “They might have some Chinese or even North Korean pistols. You’ll all want one for a hideout?”

The SEALs all nodded.

Quinn looked at his watch. “Okay, not much more we can do here. Dr. Sung is settled in. His people should be sleeping by now. We’ll be back in Seoul by daylight. Maybe we should get some sleep.”

A knock sounded on the door. A seaman opened it.

“This man said he had to see Lieutenant Hunter.” The sailor stepped aside and one of the North Korean men came in. His eyes glistened and then he saw Hunter.

“Lieutenant. Me Soc Ho. Brother. My English bad. You go north to Kanggye?”

“Yes, Soc Ho. We’re going up there.”

“You destroy bomb?”

“We plan to, yes.”

“Soc Ho go with you. Local guide. Know north people. Help you get through.”

Hunter looked at Quinn.

“Well, Mr. Ho. That’s a fine offer, but I’m not sure it would work.”

“Soc Ho know Korea. You know Korea? Soc Ho keep you safe.”

Hunter started to nod. “Quinn, I think the young man has a good idea. We don’t know what we’ll run into up there. To have a local along would be a big plus. He speaks the language, knows the customs, the dos and don’ts. I’m for it. You need upstairs approval?”

“No, it’s my call.” He looked at Ho. “You’re out of there free and clear. On your way to America and freedom. You really want to go back into North Korea?”
               “Must go. Family honor. Undo what family forced to do. Blow up bombs so they not hurt many people.”

Tran motioned to Ho then talked with him a few moments in Korean. He turned to Quinn. “Hey, his Korean is perfect, much better than mine. I’d give buckets of blood to have him along. He could be the difference between getting through to our objective and getting blasted to hell by the NKs.”

Quinn rubbed his face with his left hand. Hunter had seen him do it before when he had a big decision to make. His hand came away and he closed his eyes a moment.

“Might work. We’ll decide tomorrow when we do another planning session. Thanks, Mr. Ho. We’ll talk to you tomorrow. Now go get some sleep.”

Ho grinned and hurried out of the room.

“No question,” Tran said. “He’s got to go with us.”

K-16 Air Base near Seoul, Korea.

The next morning the SEAL planning team met with Quinn and the two destroyer captains in a conference room. Quinn led the meeting.

“I’ve checked with the director and he thinks it’s a great idea to take a local guide with us. So Soc Ho is in. Tran, check with Ho to find out what kind of uniforms the soccer players in North Korea wear, then take him to the tailor shop and get them busy on the shirts and shorts required.

Tran grinned and hurried out of the room.

“Now, what else do we have to do to get this operation moving?”
               “Weapons,” Chang said.

“We’ll go to the armory at ten hundred for everyone to pick and choose his weapons. They do have some non-US pistols but I can’t vouch for the make. You’ll draw ammunition at the same time. How much is up to you.” He looked at Hunter.

“We better go with six times regular load,” Hunter said. We’ll use drag bags for the excess.”

Quinn looked at Commander Vuylsteke. “Mr. Vuylsteke, I assume your ship will be available for a run up to the edge of China on call?”

“Yes sir. When the CNO gives me an order, we follow it to the letter.”

“We’ll just need one ship for the insertion, probably two if we take the team out by chopper on the east coast. Do we have assets in that area?”

“We do, Mr. Quinn.”