North Korean Blowup (7 page)

Hunter watched the twenty yards of beach and then the tree line.

Nothing.

The SEALs lifted up and ran into the trees where they stopped and dug into their waterproof back packs for their personal radios and put them on.

“Net check,” Hunter said.

“Chang here.”

“Tran loud and clear.”

He motioned them up to him. “We go straight east into the countryside. Quinn said we should have about ten miles before we hit that highway K-12. Tran out front by forty. Let’s choggie.”

The coastal plain turned out to be highly cultivated, with small plots of land hemmed in by dikes where the farmers grew rice and vegetables. They picked their way along the dikes for half a mile before they came to a black topped road that led north and south hugging the coast. Wrong road.

Hunter pointed on ahead and they were just off the roadway into some brush along a creek when a convoy of army trucks rumbled along the coast road. It included a jeep in front with ten two and a half ton trucks behind it that could be filled with infantrymen or supplies for some army post.

They headed across fields again and ten minutes later, Tran gave them a sharp hand signal to hit the dirt.

“Cap, something weird up here,” Hunter’s earpiece sounded. “You best come take a look.”

Hunter worked up to here Tran lay in some weeds next to a dike. He peered over the dike the direction Tran pointed. Here they were out of the coastal plain and into some low hills with terraced land cultivated on every conceivable inch of soil.

They had seen few buildings. No farm structures as they knew them. An occasional shed perhaps for tools. In a small valley just ahead they saw what could only be a lighted, active bivouac army camp that could hold two hundred men. There were kitchens, large tents for sleeping, a motor pool with jeeps and six by trucks. The purr of generator engines drifted up from the valley.

“A training set up out here in the boonies?” Tran asked.

“Let’s hope they aren’t on night maneuvers,” Hunter said.

Chang bellied down beside the other two and looked into the valley. “Holy shit.”

“We’re on the northern edge of their latchup,” Tran said. “I suggest we take a hard northern route for two miles before we head on east.”

“Go,” Hunter said.

They filed out moving north and soon saw a small group of buildings that looked like it might be a communal center. A dog barked and then quieted. They circled a half mile around the buildings before they went back on the north trek.

It was just past midnight when they came to a blacktopped road running generally north and south.

“Has to Be K-12,” Tran said. “Not much traffic.”

The two lane highway was dark for as far as they could see both directions.

“We grab a car or a truck and quicken our time into Sunan?” Chang asked.

They saw headlights coming south well down the road.

“Give me your MP-5, Cap,” Tran said. “I’ve got an idea. I’ll tell the driver we’re on maneuvers with the army playing foreign spies. Our job is to try to get away from the maneuvers while they try to catch us.”

“Might work,” Hunter said. “If it doesn’t we can use other more deadly persuasion.”

Tran took the MP-5 sub machine gun and stood in the middle of the road while the other two knelt down just outside of where the splash of the headlights would be. The car kept coming but slowed when its lights picked up the figure in the roadway. Tran held the sub gun across his chest so it would be easy to see. The rig was an old pickup and it slowed, but turned to angle around Tran. Then the driver evidently changed his mind and stopped.

Tran walked up to the driver’s side and told his story. At first the driver was suspicious.

“Didn’t see any army,” the driver said in Korean. He was in his late fifties, a farmer by the looks Tran figured.

Tran answered him in the same language. “That’s their job to stay hidden so they can catch me. I have two others who must get to Sunan quickly. Can you help us?”

A few more questions, then the man agreed.

“Get in back,” Tran said to the other SEALs. He stepped into the pickup cab and the rig rolled down the highway.

The farmer said he’d been in the army when he was younger. Now he grew vegetables. He was going into Sunan for supplies. They talked about families and farming. Then they came into the outskirts of the small town.

“I need to find Lovely Garden Street,” Tran said. “Do you know where it is?”

“Very expensive, only rich live there. Why do you want to go there?”

“It’s the next step in the game of spying the army has to figure  out,” Tran explained. He went into a long reason that they had to go there to throw off the army scouts who hunted them. They both had a good laugh at how the army colonels would be shouting at their men.

“Lovely Garden Street is on this side of town. I can drive you close to it, but not go on it. There are guards.”

“That would be a big help,” Tran said.

Ten minutes later the three SEALs knelt in some shrubbery at the street the driver said was Lovely Garden.

“Number seventy-two,” Chang said.

They stared at the gated community, with hand lift bars across the lanes in and out. A small sentry box sat in the center of the street. A car rolled up and slowed. The guard came out, evidently recognized the driver and car and lifted the rail before the car came to it. When the car was past, the guard lowered the barrier and went back into his little house.

“Tran, check that block wall down the side. See how far it goes and how high it gets.”

Tran faded into the night along the block wall. Here it was six feet high and they could see a residence just beyond it. They could also see pole lights along the street that ended in a cul-de-sac about ten houses down.

As they waited, Hunter reviewed what he knew about the Sung family. He had been born in the states of Korean immigrant parents and was known as Kim Sung. He had gone to Harvard and married his college sweetheart from Long Island, New York. They had two daughters.

Tran slid in beside Hunter without a sound and touched his commanding officer on the shoulder.

“Huh, what? Tran, you always do that. One of these days I’m going to shoot your balls off by mistake.”

Tran grinned. “The wall surrounds the whole compound. No intrusion alarms I could see. No wires on top. An easy up and over. Down about half way is a playground with no houses for fifty feet on each side. We can go over there and find number seventy two.”

“Let’s choggie,” Hunter said.

They went over the wall all three at once and melted into the shrubs fronting the barrier. They didn’t move for five minutes. Each watched a different direction but they saw no people, no vehicles moving, and no dogs prowling.

Hunter crawled over to Tran. “See if this first house has a number, then see which way to seventy two.”

Tran faded through the shrubs to the first house and went across the small back yard and along the far side. There were no fences between houses here, just pampered green lawns.

Moments later Hunter’s earpiece came on.

“First house is number seventy. One up the street is seventy one, so our target should be the third house. I’ll check it for sure. We using the back door?”

“If it’s the right house. Wait for us in the back yard.”

The SEALs oozed from shrub to shrub and moved out of the playground and through the two back yards. None of the houses had lights burning. They found Tran leaning against the third house.

“Yep, this is the one.”

“We knock first?” Chang asked.

Hunter shook his head. “Sung expects somebody. My guess he’s left the back and front doors unlocked. Tran, give it a try.”

The back door had a screen that Tran eased open without a sound, then he turned the door knob and to his surprise, the door eased open when he pushed it inward. The three SEALs slipped inside the Satan blackness of the room. Hunter took out his penlight and scanned the place. In Minnesota it would be a mud room, for changing wet, snowy clothes before going into the house proper. Here it served much the same purpose, but Hunter couldn’t figure out why.

He turned the knob on the western door handle that must lead into the house and again the panel swung inward on oiled hinges.

The room was dark, not a shred of light anywhere. Before Hunter could turn on his tiny flashlight a man’s voice sounded.

“Welcome, my friends,” the muted voice said. “I’ve waited here every night for the past ten. It’s good to know that you have come.”

The voice ended and the lights snapped on blinding the SEALs.

A soft laugh blossomed through the room as the SEALs tried to get their eyes adjusted.

 “Oh yes, that was Dr. Sung’s voice, but he couldn’t be here tonight, so he asked me to sit in. I’m his wife Vivian.” Her voice was cultured, soft, almost a whisper. “We must be quiet, speak softly. Kim was called away to an important decision that had to be made about smalling down the bombs.”

Hunter’s eyes blinked and watered and he rubbed them again and then he could focus.  An American blonde woman of about 45 sat in a recliner chair aimed at a large sized TV set. She smiled.

“Yes, Kim has been waiting for you. We both have. I know why you are here. None of the rest of the family knows.” Her voice was soft and low.

“Mrs. Sung, I’m Hunter and this is Tran and Chang.”

“You’re here as an advance party to make sure my husband is who Rho Rhee, the badminton player, said he was. How can I be sure who you men are?” She moved a shawl from her lap and showed the Colt .45 pistol she held aimed directly at Hunter.

“We know about both of you. Your maiden name was Jennifer Wilson, your daughters are Stephanie and Yuan, and there are twelve members of your extended family.”

“All right, all right. I believe you.” She put the automatic pistol on a small table beside the chair. “That old thing wasn’t even loaded.” For the first time she smiled. “Hunter. What a classic name for a SEAL looking for someone. Is it your real name Lieutenant?”

“It is but how….”

“My father was a Navy Captain, who never quite made admiral. I knew a mission like this would take at least a full lieutenant. Now, we must be quiet. We have servant people we’re not entirely sure of. Can you confirm about my husband and proceed with the mission?”

“Not until I talk to him in person and establish some facts.”

“Too bad. He won’t be home until tomorrow evening. Until then you’ll have to vanish into the house. There are two locked rooms on the third floor that we seldom use. You can go up there quietly, and I’ll see that you have all the food and drink that you need.”

“Will you be safe with us here?” Hunter asked.

“Young man, I haven’t felt safe for the past ten years. These animals can come and take this all away from us in micro second. And cut us up into cat food just for the fun of it. But for the next two days, yes, I will feel safer with you with me. You have weapons, I assume.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, that does it. When a handsome young lieutenant in the U.S. Navy SEALs calls me ma’am, I know damn well that I’m over forty.” She laughed softly. “Takes some getting used to.” She stood. Follow me and be whisper quiet.”

A few minutes later they were in the two rooms on the third floor. They were each about ten feet square and had an interconnecting door. Each had a bed and lamp. There were no windows. The beds were made up with fresh linens.

“One of you come with me and I’ll send you back with a box filled with food and soft drinks and anything else you might want. I won’t be up to see you again until about ten o’clock tomorrow night but don’t be alarmed.” She watched them a moment, then nodded.

“I’m sure one of our two house hold help is on the payroll of the secret police. So we always have to be careful. Anything we do out of the norm is at once reported. The trouble is, I’m not sure which one it is, Yon Lee or her husband Manpo.”

“Transporting all twelve of you out of here is going to be a big task,” Hunter said. “Would it be possible for you to arrange a family vacation at some seaside resort or hotel?”

“A friend of ours has a large summer house on the shore. It is possible we could ask them if we could go there.”

“That would make it much simpler for our helicopters to pick you up and have you in international waters in ten minutes. We’ll talk about that later.”

“I’ll send up food and drinks for you. All of your must be exhausted. Remember, be as quiet as mice up here.” She smiled, caught Chang’s hand and led him out of the room.

When Chang came back, Mrs. Sung was with him with pillows and more blankets.

“Mrs. Sung. I should communicate with my contact. I need an open window for a satellite antenna to point out. Is there one on the second floor I could use?”
               “A radio that you can use all the way to Washington?”

“Yes, ma’am, only this message will only go to Seoul.”

She nodded and Hunter unpacked the miniature SATCOM and took it down the stairs to a room with a window. He showed her how it worked. Then spoke softly into the mike.

“Quinn time, this is the watcher.”

A response came at once.

“Watcher, Quinn time here.”

“On target, but player is out for twenty four. Will confirm at that time. Retrograde movement must be worked out for twelve.”

“Roger that, Watcher. Off shore sixties best bet.”

“More details later. Watcher out.”

Mrs. Sung nodded. “My goodness, all that talk and with your man Quinn in Seoul. Is this really going to happen? When Kim and I talked about it, the chances seemed so great that it might never come to pass.”

“It will, Mrs. Sung. I’m betting my life and the lives of my two men that it will happen and you’ll all be safe.”

Back upstairs Mrs. Sung told them a hushed good night and said that she would lock the doors but gave them a key they could use to open the doors in an emergency. Then they dove into the food box and made huge sandwiches of ham and cheese and lettuce and pickles and pepperoni. They found cans of Coke filled in P’yongyang and cans of peaches and applesauce. They ate and then Hunter tried the key in the door lock. It worked. He opened the door and looked down the steps, then he locked it again and they all slept.