Red Phoenix (2 page)

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PROLOGUE

AUGUST 19—SOUTH OF THE DMZ NEAR HAKKOK, SOUTH KOREA

They found the North Korean tunnel shortly before dawn.

The two men—one an American intelligence officer, the other a South Korean combat engineer—stood regarding a three-inch-wide borehole as they might an ancient oracle, one that had given them good news.

Captain Marc Chadwick knelt and ran his fingertips around the edge of hole Five-A, feeling the damp, smooth rock. “Look at that pattern. Almost circular. We’re right over the bastards.”

His Korean counterpart, Captain Lee, nodded. “Almost certainly. Five-B and Five-D also indicate this location.”

Both men smiled, feeling the excitement of a long hunt now nearing the kill.

Hole Five-A didn’t look like much. Just a water-filled hole that went straight down through ten meters of solid rock. But it served as a detector for underground vibrations, like the ones made by North Korean engineers blasting tunnels under the Demilitarized Zone—the DMZ—and into South Korea. Explosive charges laid to carve out a new tunnel sent shock waves rippling through the rock—shock waves that slopped water out of the closest boreholes. Not much. Usually not more than an inch or two. But a good engineer could tell a lot from that, and Captain Lee was a good engineer.

Lee turned and looked north toward a small rise that blocked their view of the DMZ less than a kilometer away. He shook his head. The North Koreans had pushed this tunnel more than two kilometers from their side of the line before they’d been detected. It passed right under the Allied fortifications built along the DMZ, and the North Koreans could have used it to infiltrate spies and raiding parties into the South, or perhaps even for large-scale troop movements should war break out. Lee scowled. The communists were getting too good at this game for his taste.

He glanced east. The sun was coming up, spilling light over a brown, barren landscape blasted by summer heat and dry weather. The South Korean engineer mentally ran over the amount of work that would be required, pursed his lips, and said, “If I have my men start now, we should be able to break in by midday.”

The American nodded and the two men studied the borehole in silence for a moment longer before turning away back down the valley toward their waiting jeep.

Captain Lee’s estimates were, like everything else about him, precise.

Chadwick noticed the silence first. For six hours since daybreak the valley had been filled with a high-pitched, grinding whine as South Korean drills ripped their way into the ground, opening a path for the explosives that would break through into the suspected North Korean tunnel. He’d watched avidly for a time, but his interest had waned as the sun rose higher and the temperature climbed, and he’d finally retreated to a shadowed truck cab.

Now the drills had stopped. Chadwick sat up suddenly and pulled the latest issue of
Stars and Stripes
off his face. He stared through the windshield as combat engineers unreeled thin detonator wire from the enlarged borehole to a sheltered spot near where the trucks were parked. After a moment Lee stood and gave him a thumbs-up signal. The charges were in place and wired to go. He clambered out of the truck cab and ambled over to where Lee lay waiting with his noncoms.

The Korean grinned up at him and gestured to the plunger. “Care to try your hand?”

“Nope. You blow things up. I just take pictures of ’em. Before and after.”

Lee chuckled, motioned him to the ground, and then pushed the plunger. Borehole Five-A erupted in a fiery pillar of smoke and thrown rock debris. A muffled roar rumbled through the valley and shook the earth.

Lee and his troops were up and running toward the hole before the dust even settled. Their explosives had torn open a jagged crater, three feet across at its narrowest point. Most importantly, it did not seem to have a bottom. Shining a powerful light straight down revealed only a circle of darkness. They were in.

Lee took an old Korean War—vintage M3 submachine gun—a “grease gun”—from his sergeant and slung it across his back. He looked at Chadwick. “I’m claiming the honor of going down first. Care to accompany me?”

The sweat stains under Chadwick’s arms suddenly felt ice cold, but he shrugged and asked, “Do we get to use a rope?”

Lee grinned. “Naturally. Only Marines are forbidden to use ropes, Captain.”

“Terrific.” Chadwick checked the clip on his regulation-issue 9mm pistol.
He didn’t like this commando stuff. What if the bad guys were waiting down there for the first flies to drop into their parlor? Desk jockeys like him were supposed to analyze North Korea’s tunnels, not invade them. But he couldn’t think of any graceful way to back out, and he’d be damned if he’d let Lee see that he was scared. He and the engineer had been partners now for months and they’d made a good team. Chadwick didn’t think that would stay true if he chickened out now.

He watched while Lee stepped to the edge of the hole, clipped a line onto his belt, and signaled his men to lower away. The South Korean dangled momentarily and then disappeared through the narrow opening, looking intently downward.

Moments later, Lee called up for them to stop. The end of the line came back up, and Chadwick stepped to the edge.

They lowered him slowly past the jagged sides of the hole that kept threatening to snag his battle dress and then on down into the darkness. He swallowed hard and tried to concentrate on mentally recording what he was seeing. It was the best way he knew to push away the fears his subconscious kept raising.

For the first fifteen meters the hole was nearly circular, but then the walls spread away, opening up like the lower half of an hourglass, and he was swinging in the air. Chadwick realized that the blasting must have caved in the roof of the tunnel. He looked down. Ten meters’ worth of rock littered the floor below him.

He touched down on the uncertain footing and scrambled for a moment to get his balance. Something grabbed his arm and he jumped, feeling the adrenaline rush pulsing through his system. It was Lee, steadying him.

“Jesus Christ!” he whispered. “You scared the crap out of me.”

“Sorry.”

Lee let go and stepped back, swinging his light around in an arc to cover the tunnel in front of them. They had broken through the roof near the end of the tunnel, but well over to one side. The passageway itself ran north-south and was at least thirteen meters wide, big enough for a three-lane road. Away from the area currently under construction, the floors, walls, and ceiling had all been smoothed. There were lamps mounted overhead. They weren’t lit though, and only Lee’s flashlight and the sunlight pouring down through the explosives-torn shaft provided illumination—looking much like eerie spotlights in the dusty air.

More men were swarming down the ropes now, some carrying weapons and others demolition gear. Chadwick whistled softly as he saw crate after crate of explosives being stockpiled off to the side. “How much will it take to destroy this underground freeway?”

Lee cocked his head, studying what he could make out of the tunnel through the darkness and still-swirling dust. “Perhaps as much as a thousand
kilos of C4. It will take us most of the day to wire the charges. This could be the second largest ‘freeway’ we have ever found.” He smiled wolfishly and shrugged. “Who knows? If we time it right, we may be able to catch the communists as they return to their work this evening.”

While Lee’s men lowered their equipment through the narrow opening to the surface, the two captains moved off down the tunnel, accompanied by seven M16-toting enlisted men. The engineers needed security while they worked, and Chadwick wanted to get a good look at everything before it was too late.

His nervousness had evaporated with the absence of opposition. Now he had a job to do.

“What’s that on the wall?” The American stopped as his flashlight hit a painted line of Hangul characters.

Lee stepped closer. “It says that this is the ‘Socialist Awareness’ tunnel.” The South Korean sounded both amused and disgusted at the same time.

“Well, it’s the ‘Socialist Awareness’ tunnel for about six more hours. Then it’s going to be the ‘Socialist Collapsed Hole in the Ground.’ ” Chadwick raised his camera and snapped a picture of the nameplate.

They’d already come three hundred meters from the entrance without seeing much of anything. Just the smooth rock walls and floors, an occasional ventilation shaft, and now this painted sign. It looked peaceful, but every step brought them closer to North Korean territory.

A few meters farther on their flashlights picked out a row of dark, boxy forms blocking the passage in the distance. Heavy construction equipment? That didn’t make sense. You didn’t use bulldozers to build tunnels.

They picked up the pace a little, closing on the shapes. They walked another twenty steps or so and then Chadwick pulled up short. In a very soft voice he said, “Oh, shit. Captain Lee, tell me those aren’t what I know they are.”

His flashlight pointed up and outlined the rounded form of a tank turret, and another one next to it, and another one next to that. Three tanks, with their turrets pointed aft, in travel position, were parked abreast in the tunnel.

Lee whirled and shouted something to a private, who took off running. Chadwick understood just enough Korean to understand “colonel” and “more men.” Smart move. Get the brass and get reinforcements. Nobody had ever found any equipment parked in a tunnel before. Son of a bitch. Excitedly he ran over to the left. He shined his flashlight down the passage between the tank and wall. Yep. There was another tank past this one, and one past that, and on until the light was lost in the darkness.

Chadwick stood and stared, drinking in every detail. A long-barreled 115mm main gun. One 7.62mm coaxial machine gun. A heavy machine gun mounted on the turret for use against aircraft and helicopters. An infrared searchlight mounted near the main gun. There couldn’t be any doubt about
it. These were Soviet-model T-62A main battle tanks. And here they were sitting in a North Korean tunnel, inside South Korean territory.

A wild feeling of exultation swept over him. This was an intelligence officer’s dream. He wanted to do a hundred things immediately and couldn’t decide which to do first.

Steady, Marc, old boy. Deep breath. He inhaled and exhaled slowly, then looked at Lee. “Any chance we can open up that hole and get some of these guys out?”

“I am going to ask my colonel for permission to do that when he arrives. If we work fast, we should be able to make it. Some of the men in my company are qualified tracked vehicle crewmen.”

Chadwick leapt up onto the vehicle deck and looked for the gas filler cap. He opened it, delighting in the action the way a child might delight in working a new toy. “Empty, naturally.”

“We can have diesel fuel here in about forty-five minutes,” Lee said. “Don’t worry, Captain. It will take us several hours to drill and blast a ramp.”

Chadwick was climbing all over one of the tanks, opening its hatches and peering inside, when two colonels—one an American and the other South Korean—arrived, followed by a panting squad of heavily laden riflemen. The opportunity was just too good to pass up, so he stood at attention on the deck, saluted, and grinned at the two senior officers. “It followed me home, sir. Can I keep it?”

The senior American liaison officer with the South Korean combat engineers, Colonel Miller, just shook his head. “Report, Captain.” But Chadwick could see the ghost of a smile flit across Miller’s face.

Chadwick jumped down and saluted again. “Sir, there’s at least a battalion of armor parked in the tunnel. All T-62 tanks, parked three abreast. Standing up on the deck there, you can see them going back until the light runs out. They aren’t fueled, but they do have main gun ammunition.”

“All right. Get the men checking out the vehicles for documents and other portable intelligence. Don’t forget external markings. I understand we may be able to recover some of these?”

“The engineers think so, sir,” Chadwick said, nodding to Lee. The Korean was heavily engaged with his colonel, who was nodding and smiling.

“Then let’s get on with it. You and Captain Lee take your party down the tunnel and see what else is there. Take lots of pictures. Proceed no further than one-half klick, starting from this point. Consider this the line of departure, but don’t start a war, Captain.” The warning in the colonel’s voice was real.

“Yessir.” Chadwick waved over to Lee, who had just saluted his own departing colonel. It was the first time he’d ever seen a Korean field-grade officer move at anything except a dignified walk.

They moved forward slowly, an officer in front on each side, followed by three heavily armed enlisted men.

Chadwick looked at his watch. It was just two-thirty in the afternoon. Topside it was ninety-five degrees and climbing, but the tunnel was as cool as his basement back home. Their handheld flashlights provided the only source of light. The tunnel had taken many slight bends since they had entered, and more since the start of the equipment. Probably done to avoid difficult rock formations and to confuse anyone trying to plot the progress of the tunnel from above. In any event, no light would reach from either end, so he got into the habit of calling out “Photo” before he took a picture. That gave everyone a chance to cover their eyes and avoid the painful flash.

Lee concentrated on the tunnel itself, doing a hasty survey of distances and directions.

Chadwick counted tanks. There were thirty-one, the book strength of an armored battalion. Behind were trucks, jeeps, and all the other hardware. Someone with an orderly mind had put this stuff in here. He could almost predict what would come next.

What the hell was all this stuff doing down here in the first place? There’d always been speculation that the North Koreans intended some of their tunnels as more than just infiltration routes into the South. But this kind of confirmation was spectacular and completely unexpected. It did make a twisted kind of military sense, though. Stockpiling gear like this in advance would cut down the preparation time needed to launch a major attack across, or under, the DMZ, and it would lower the warning time available to U.S. and South Korean forces along the line. But how could the North Koreans have possibly thought this kind of gear could just lie here undetected, year in and year out, until it was needed? He filed the question away for further consideration later. There was just too much to do right now.