Red Phoenix (26 page)

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CHAPTER
18

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DECEMBER 10—NEAR THE DMZ, SOUTH KOREA

“Attention!” The sergeant major’s roar echoed over the snow-covered parade ground. One thousand men snapped to attention, their shoulders thrown back and posture ramrod straight. For a moment the sergeant major studied them, his narrowed eyes looking for any weakness or imperfection.

Satisfied, he wheeled and threw a rigid salute to the group of officers facing the assembled troops. “Battalion present and ready for inspection, sir!”

General Bae returned his salute casually. “Very good, Sergeant Major. We’ll begin now.”

The man dropped his salute and fell in behind Bae as he walked along the ranks, checking uniforms and weapons at random. Occasionally he stopped to have a name taken either for commendation or for punishment. But only occasionally.

Bae smiled thinly to himself. The battalion was in good fighting trim. Ready for anything. The phrase echoed in his mind:
ready for anything.
This was the unit he had planned to take to Seoul to reinforce Chang’s coup attempt if necessary.

The general continued his inspection but his mind was far away, concentrating on a more urgent problem. What had gone wrong with Chang’s plan?

Chang was dead. That was certain. Bae had heard the news from a friend in the Defense Ministry. But there’d been a complete security clampdown on exactly what had happened along the MSR north of Seoul. All Bae knew for sure was that a five-kilometer stretch of the highway was still closed—forcing supply convoys coming north to detour around it. And the 4th Infantry Division’s camp was quarantined, surrounded by a thick cordon of heavily armed Black Berets.

The general had avoided making any contact with the other plotters since
the abortive coup, feeling certain that the DSC’s spies would be watching combat officers even more closely now. In a few days, perhaps, it might be safe to arrange a meeting to try to pick up the pieces. Bae shook his head slowly. Chang had been their inspiration. He wasn’t sure how many of the others would have the stomach to try again now that the Iron Man was gone.

Behind him, the sergeant major frowned as Bae walked right by a private with traces of weapons lubrication oil staining his tunic. He stopped, gave the man a ferocious glare, and then hurried on after his general. Something was bothering the Old Man all right.

Bae finished his walk-around and started moving toward the small cluster of officers nervously waiting for his verdict on their troops. Then he stopped.

Two black staff cars had just driven through the main gate. They were followed by three canvas-sided trucks. The car lurched off the camp’s main road and turned toward the parade ground. The rest followed it, their tires crunching over the compacted surface of snow and ice.

Bae started moving again but one hand dropped, almost unconsciously, to rest on the pistol holster at his right side. The sergeant major followed suit.

He rejoined his officers as the staff car pulled up and slid to a stop in a spray of snow and gravel. The trucks stopped right behind it, and Black Berets carrying submachine guns jumped down off them, fanning out to cover the little group of officers.

Once they were in position, the staff car’s doors popped open. Bae’s eyes narrowed. There could only be one reason for all of this, but surely they were making an unnecessarily large production out of what should be a simple procedure. Why hadn’t they simply waited until his inspection was over?

A small, nervous man wearing a thick officer’s overcoat and carrying a swagger stick levered himself out of the rear door of the staff car. He shivered in the cold air and pulled the overcoat tighter around him. Then he flipped open a file and studied it for a moment. Bae’s officers clustered around the general, waiting for him to take the lead.

Finally the man walked over to them, followed closely by two submachine gun-toting guards with DSC collar tabs. He stopped, facing Bae. “General Bae?”

Bae stood silent for a moment and then nodded.

One side of the thin man’s mouth curled upward and he reached into his pocket for a single, folded piece of paper. He handed it to Bae. “I’m General Kim of the DSC. Those orders come from General Park himself, and they authorize me to take command of your division.”

Bae studied them and then looked up sharply. “For what reason has General Park done this?”

Kim smiled. “For a very good reason, General Bae.” The smile disappeared. “You’re under arrest for treason.”

Even though he’d been half-expecting arrest since the failure of Chang’s coup, the words still shook Bae and he stepped back a pace.

One of the DSC troopers with him stepped forward and yanked Bae’s pistol out of its holster. The other kept Bae’s officers covered with his SMG.

Bae stood rigidly still as the guard frisked him for other weapons. Kim smiled pleasantly again. “What? No protestations of innocence and wronged honor? You disappoint me, General.”

Bae said nothing. How had they known? Chang had told them he’d never kept written notes, so someone must have talked. But who? Chang was dead. Who had betrayed him?

Kim nodded to the DSC guard who now had his SMG trained directly on Bae. “Take this traitor to the car.”

Bae swallowed, trying to clear his throat. “May I have a moment to inform my family of what has happened? I give you my word as an officer that I shall not attempt to escape.”

The DSC general laughed, a harsh, braying sound. “Don’t worry yourself. They’ll be informed of your fate. And your word means nothing to me.” He nodded to his guards. “Take this dog away. The sight of him sickens me.”

Bae was stripped of his coat and hustled away into a waiting car. As it drove off, Kim turned back to face the shocked officers. “Very well, gentlemen. Now that this unpleasantness is behind us, we can get on with my other business here today.”

He looked at the battalion commander. “We will start with your battalion. Have your companies return their weapons to the armory. The entire division is confined to quarters until I’ve had time to sort out this mess to my satisfaction. Clear?”

The battalion commander nodded quickly. Kim was satisfied to see the man’s hands trembling. Good, it was time to throw fear into these soldiers. Fear would keep them in line until he’d had the chance to purge this unit of every traitor and malcontent.

He stood back to watch as the process was begun.

DECEMBER 11—MINISTRY OF NATIONAL DEFENSE, SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA

McLaren waited while the uniformed aide cleared away the tea and then looked hard at General Park. “You do realize how goddamned stupid your government’s behavior is right now, don’t you?”

Park spread his hands. “I’m not quite sure what you’re referring to, General.”

“Come off it, Park. I’m talking about the mass arrests made by your
security forces. I’m talking about the way your DSC goons are ripping the guts out of your command structure.”

“There have been arrests, yes.” Park laced his fingers together and sat back in his chair. “But surely that is an internal matter, General McLaren. It does not concern you or come under your authority.”

“Bullshit!” McLaren’s fist crashed down on the low table between them. “You’ve thrown half the best officers in your Army, Navy, and Air Force into detention camps, and the rest are too busy looking over their shoulders to run their units properly.”

“I’m well aware that the necessary steps my government has taken to quell General Chang’s rebellion may have affected some elements in our officer corps.” Park’s eyes shifted away from McLaren’s face and then came back. “But they are necessary, General. The rot was widespread and we must burn it out.”

“Damnit, man, you’re burning the heart out of your army.” McLaren lowered his voice. “Have you been up to the DMZ lately? Have you seen what’s happening up there?”

Park shook his head and said stiffly, “Matters of state have kept me here in the city.”

“Well, let me tell you, General Park, your ‘necessary measures’ are a fucking disaster for military preparedness. I’ve never seen morale so low. Christ, how do you expect the troops to react to seeing their officers hauled off under guard?”

“Loyal officers have been left in command. That should be enough.”

McLaren shook his head. “No, it’s not. You really think your troops are going to follow a bunch of HQ Milquetoast ass kissers into battle?”

“If it is necessary, yes.”

McLaren took a deep breath. Time to calm down before he throttled the obstinate s.o.b. “General, it’s my duty as Combined Forces Commander to ensure the readiness of all the units under my authority. I can’t do that while you’re stripping them of the most experienced and dedicated officers. So I’m asking you, in my official capacity, to suspend these arrests and to release all the officers who haven’t been directly tied to General Chang’s coup attempt.”

Park’s lips thinned. “You pick a strange time to … how do you say?… throw your weight around, General. You and your men will be gone from my country in a few months, and your authority will end with your departure. Why should we pay any heed to the advice of those who are deserting us?”

McLaren had no answer for that. It would have to come from Washington.

DECEMBER 12—CAMP HOWZE, NEAR TONG DUCH’ON, SOUTH KOREA

Kevin Little knocked once on Rhee’s door and waited.

No one answered, but he could smell cigarette smoke. The South Korean
lieutenant hadn’t been at Captain Matuchek’s morning commander’s meeting. He hadn’t been at dinner the night before. And he hadn’t signed out through the gate guardhouse. That left only one place he could be.

Kevin knocked again. This time the door opened.

“Lieutenant Little?” Rhee sounded surprised. His English, usually perfect, was a little slurred. “What can I do for you?”

Kevin pushed the door open wider. “For starters, Lieutenant Rhee, you could let me in out of the hallway here.”

The South Korean nodded slowly and stepped back out of the way. Kevin closed the door behind him and studied both Rhee and his quarters carefully. Though normal looking by most standards, they were a shambles when judged by the impossibly high standards that he knew Rhee set for himself.

Rhee stood swaying slightly in the middle of the small room. His eyes were red-rimmed and bleary, and the top button of his uniform shirt was undone. The sheets on Rhee’s cot were slightly rumpled, as though he’d been lying on top of them and had gotten up without bothering to straighten them out. A lit cigarette smoldered in the ashtray on the desk, perched atop the twisted, crumpled remains of more than a dozen others. An open bottle and a half-full glass of clear liquid sat next to the ashtray.

The room smelled like a hellish combination of rum and furniture-polish remover. Kevin recognized the smell from trips to Korean restaurants and bars that had always been followed by monstrous hangovers. It was Soju, a cheap, grain liquor. He looked from the glass to Rhee. “A bit early in the day, isn’t it?”

Rhee lowered his own gaze. “Perhaps.” He let the word hang there.

“You missed the captain’s meeting this morning.”

Rhee’s head snapped back up. “Did he ask where I—”

Kevin interrupted him. “I told him you were out running down a missing equipment requisition for me.”

The other man’s eyes fell again and he sank back onto his coat. “You should not have lied for me, Lieutenant. I have failed in my duty. To drink when I should be at my post is … unforgivable.” The South Korean’s voice faded completely.

Kevin stared at Rhee’s slumped shoulders and felt his irritation vanish. He pulled the chair away from the desk and sat facing his liaison officer. “Look, Rhee, you’ve got to snap out of this funk. Just what the hell is wrong?”

“General Chang’s coup attempt …”

Kevin felt cold. They’d all heard the scuttlebutt about the slaughter outside Seoul and the DSC’s ongoing wave of mass arrests. “Jesus Christ, Rhee, you weren’t involved in that, were you?”

“No.” Rhee shook his head slowly. “I was too junior to be involved. I had no hand in it.”

“Well, then, you haven’t got anything to worry about.” Kevin forced a cheerful note into his voice. “This’ll all blow over in a few more days and things’ll get back to normal.” He winced. That sounded fatuous even to him.

Rhee locked his fingers together and stared at his clasped hands. “I do not think so, Lieutenant. My country being destroyed from within before my eyes, and I can do nothing. My friends and relatives are being thrown out of work in the midst of the winter. And I can do nothing for them. Now the Army, our last bulwark against the enemy, is being broken on the wheel.” He raised his bloodshot eyes to Kevin’s face in a mute appeal. “And what can I do to prevent this? Nothing.” His eyes strayed toward the Soju bottle.

Kevin stared at him for a second, framing his reply carefully. He had to find a way to rouse Rhee from his depression. If Matuchek found the South Korean in this state, there’d be hell to pay—both by Rhee and by Kevin. Another thought crossed his mind and chilled him further. If any of the DSC men in the area heard about this reaction to Chang’s coup, Rhee would probably find himself on a short ride to a long prison term, guilty or not guilty. Kevin shook his head. He really didn’t have any choice. He had to get Rhee back to some semblance of normal, and fast.

He spoke slowly, emphasizing each word as he thought of it. “Look at me, Lieutenant.” Rhee’s eyes swung back toward him. “Neither one of us is in a position to do much about the big things that are going wrong over here. I’m not the president, so I can’t undo that stupid trade bill. And you’re not a general, so you can’t call off this DSC witch-hunt. Right?”

Kevin saw the South Korean starting to pay attention to him. Encouraged, he continued, “But that’s not what they’re paying us for. They’re paying us to soldier. And you’re a damned good soldier, Lieutenant Rhee. You’re a hell of a lot better at this game than I am.” He narrowed his own eyes and stared hard at the Korean. “Or at least you are when you’re not drunk.”