Red Phoenix (63 page)

He hacked off enough branches to pad the ground, with enough left over to lean against the bank and hide him. Wrapping himself in his chute
with the green part showing, Tony settled in for the night, relatively warm and delightfully horizontal.

He woke up to sunlight filtering through the pine branches over him. Disoriented, he started to get up and looked around, then froze when he remembered where he was. Checking his watch, he realized he had slept nearly nine hours.

Lowering himself carefully onto the branches under him, he listened for movement, voices, anything. The branches concealing him also served to block his view of the area round him.

Tony waited and listened, deciding after about five minutes that he was alone. While waiting, he became aware of his own body. His arm hurt like fire, most of the joints in his body were complaining, and he was hungry.

Once he was sure it was safe to do so, he solved the last problem first by digging into his survival kit. Munching on a fruit bar, he pulled out his map.

Never having done any orienteering, and using an air navigation chart, and being unsure of his general position, he was pretty pleased with the results. He was almost certain of which valley he had bailed out over, and he could follow his general direction of travel in the night. On the scale of the map, it was hardly a line.

Tony estimated at least fifty miles to the friendly lines. If he could cover twenty, then somehow alert combat rescue, they could home in on his emergency transmitter. He was keeping it safely off for as long as possible. The NKs could home in on it just as easily as his people.

Okay, at least two days’ travel, maybe seven. Better get started. He’d have plenty of time on the way to figure out how to contact his side.

Reluctant to leave the warmth and security of his hiding place, he stepped out and creakily stretched, looking around carefully for any sign of movement. The change from predator to prey was jarring, but he was fatalistic. In fact, he felt almost optimistic.

His plan was to keep moving south until he came to an east-west highway that crossed the ridge to his right. Besides moving south, he had to go east, or he would end up near Seoul, obviously not a good idea these days.

He made good time. Moving fast helped fight the cold. After about two hours a road appeared on the horizon, and Tony dropped prone as he watched for movement or vehicles.

After fifteen minutes he hadn’t seen a thing. Judging from the size of the towns on each side of the ridge, there probably wasn’t a lot of traffic between P’ochon and Sinpai. Still, roads were roads. They would be patrolled.

He approached carefully, slowing to about half his marching speed. In the end he didn’t have to risk the road. There was a low spot in the ridge and he decided a climb was better than the road. The trees covered him, and by
midafternoon he was over the top and had a good view of the land ahead of him.

In addition to the tree-covered landscape, he saw a small cluster of buildings. Dropping to his knees, he tried to make them out but could only tell that there were several, they were small, and they appeared to be permanent structures. That meant the inhabitants had to be South Korean, and presumably friendly.

It took him the rest of the afternoon to get closer, making dashes from cover to cover. That was fine, because he would rather make the final approach in dusk.

He crouched in cover about twenty yards from the edge of the small settlement. There were three small houses, one barn, a long, low building built into the hillside, and some small sheds. There were lights, and smoke coming from the chimneys.

He had seen a few people about, all women or old men. They had been doing chores, a lot of them connected with the long building.

Finally it was fish or cut bait time. Either he could sneak into one of the outbuildings and try and hide there for the night, or approach the people here.

He risked discovery hiding in one of the outbuildings, and the locals might have useful information. Such as if there were any NK units around here.

A middle-aged woman came out of the nearest house, heading for the barn. Bundled against the cold, she carried two buckets and strode quickly toward the building.

Tony waited until she had gone inside, then ran to the door. He pushed it open, slowly, to see a dark, wood-beamed interior with stalls for farm animals. Stepping up to a trough, the woman was just about to pour a bucket’s contents into it when she turned her head to the sound of the door opening.

“Nu gu sayo…”
She had started to say something to whoever she thought was coming into the barn. When she saw the tall American, she froze and grabbed the edge of the trough to steady herself. Tony smiled and bowed, and she automatically bowed back, then caught herself.

Her rapid-fire Korean was so much gibberish to Tony, and he tried to calm her, slowly and softly asking if anyone spoke English. She quieted, and finally on the third repetition she pointed over to a hay bale and made a sitting motion. As soon as Tony sat down, she set down the bucket and ran out of the barn.

All Tony could do was wait. Either she would bring help, or the enemy. On the off chance that it was bad news, he got up and flattened himself against the wall next to the door. He drew his pistol and worked the slide.

A few moments later she reappeared with an older man following her. She looked at the hay bale, puzzled, then sensed a movement to her right and
saw him holstering his pistol and stepping forward. The woman frowned but shrugged her shoulders, then stepped out of the way.

Tony bowed to the older man, who smiled and said, “You are among friends. I am Sook Yon-Gil. This is my sister-in-law.” She bowed again, then left.

Tony was surprised. Many Koreans in Seoul spoke some English, but this was a long way from the big city. “Your English is excellent.”

Mr. Sook smiled and bowed. “I worked with the American Army in the last war. How may I help you?”

Tony explained who he was. What he needed was obvious.

Mr. Sook was direct. “You can stay here tonight, Major. My sister-in-law will bring you dinner, and you can sleep in the barn. We are the only ones who know of your presence here. It is best if most of the family does not see you.”

Tony was aware of the risk they were taking. “Are there any North Korean units around here?”

“No, not since their initial passage.” The man scowled. “We have nothing here they care about, and they were still barbarians. My brother has a broken arm, thanks to them.”

The woman came back in with a covered basket and began to set out food. Mr. Sook continued, “Eat and rest. I must discuss this with my brother and brother-in-law. I will come back later. We don’t get much news about the war.”

Tony relaxed and tried to eat slowly. The survival kit rations were neither hot nor filling. The meal was, and delicious to boot. Mr. Sook returned as Tony was finishing, accompanied by his two male relatives. The pilot rose as they came in.

The three men stepped in, formed a line, and then bowed deeply. Reflexively, Tony returned the bow and waited.

Mr. Sook was obviously the oldest of the three brothers and the head of the family. His expression was solemn, and contrite. “Major Christopher, I am ashamed. My brothers have reminded me that I failed to thank you for what you are doing. All three of us fought in the last war. Two of my brothers died. Our two sons were called up when the communists invaded us.

“We can help you to reach safety much more quickly than by walking south. We are…‘sending a message.’ With luck, we should have a reply by evening tomorrow.”

They would not explain further but asked him for news about the war. Tony provided them with an overview while Sook translated, then the Koreans started asking more detailed questions.

Some were about cities and towns, and others about military units. He was glad when he could say that he didn’t know if a city had been occupied. When he did know, the news was usually bad.

The conversation wandered, and finally Tony was yawning so much that they excused themselves.

His “bed” was an alcove in a stack of hay bales, arranged to conceal him completely once he was inside. He was asleep in seconds.

A bright light in his eyes and harsh voices in Korean yanked him out of a deep sleep. The hay bales above him had been removed, and a black-suited man, armed with a pistol, was holding a flashlight and inspecting him closely.

Tony struggled to sit up, and the man stepped back. There were two more like him, while Mr. Sook and his entire family stood to one side in the barn.

The black-clad men were obviously soldiers, and probably Koreans. They not only wore cold-weather gear, but also knitted hoods that covered all of their faces except their eyes. One, probably their leader, was conversing in harsh tones with Mr. Sook, while another stood near Tony, and the third covered the door. They were armed with communist-made AK-47 assault rifles.

His heart sank, and he tried to decide what to do next. His pistol was within reach, but the odds that he could take out three alert and armed men were poor at best. And how many of the Sook family would be hurt if he started shooting? But wouldn’t they already suffer for collaborating with the enemy? Still, the thought of just accepting capture…

The leader saw Tony moving and came over. He stood at attention, saluted, and said in accented English, “Good morning, Major. I am Lieutenant Kim of the South Korean Army Special Forces. We can get you back to your own lines. Are you able to travel?”

“Yes,” Tony said automatically, still recovering. With that, they gathered his possessions, Tony said thank you and good-bye to the Sooks, and they set off into the night.

Tony was full of questions. “I don’t understand. Our lines are miles away. How did you get here?”

“We didn’t come here, sir. We stayed behind when the communists advanced.”

“But the farmer said it would take until late tomorrow for help to come.”

“We have a system set up with all the citizens here. They knew that if they left a sign in a certain location, they would get ‘help.’ They were told it would take twenty-four hours. We are much closer than that, but there is no need for them to know everything.”

“What happens next?” Tony asked. They told him.

They hiked the rest of the night, about three hours, and around dawn Tony was blindfolded. Another half-hour march followed, with Tony’s stumbling progress supported by a man on each side.

Finally they took off the blindfold and Tony found himself in a solidly constructed underground bunker. It had a bunkroom, a kitchen/mess hall,
storage rooms, and several other sections he wasn’t allowed to see. In fact, he never saw the entrance, from either side.

They waited there all day, and then at nightfall they took another hike, this one about two hours long.

Lieutenant Kim had used satellite communications to arrange a rendezvous. With what, he wouldn’t say. He just kept them moving, checking more and more frequently on a large-scale map of the area. Finally he took out a small device and started pacing. Tony realized it was a portable inertial navigation unit. Their rendezvous would be precise, almost to the yard.

Kim finally signaled a halt and deployed his men as pickets around the area. They waited.

Tony didn’t see or hear the helicopter until it was almost on top of them. It came up over a small rise, no more than twenty feet off the ground, and moved toward them. Kim pointed something that looked like a flashlight at the helicopter, but no light shone.

It had the desired effect, though. The machine slowed and altered course to head directly toward the Korean.

Tony knew it was a helicopter, but in the faint starlight it looked more like a monster or a dragon. There were bulges all over the nose of the craft, a long probe sticking fifteen feet out in front, and protuberances on the sides as well.

Kim waved him over. “This is your ride home, Major.” He shook hands with Tony, then handed him a package. “These are messages and personal letters. Will you deliver them for us?”

“Of course, Lieutenant. Can I do anything else for you or your men?”

“No sir, just kill communists. Good-bye.” They saluted.

Even now, with the helicopter landing nearby, it was nearly silent. He got a closer look as it landed and recognized it as a Pave Low special operations helicopter. He could see large drop tanks under the side sponsons, miniguns in the doors, and a Sidewinder!

He had heard about them, even seen one now and then at an airfield. They had infrared TV, terrain-following radar, armor, jamming systems, and enough weaponry to fight their way out of a jam. They were used for special operations, inserting or extracting people behind enemy lines…

Sort of like him.

The helicopter’s wheels touched the ground, and as if operated by a switch, a door opened and a red-lit interior was visible. The light seemed bright after the pitch-darkness. A crewman waved to him, and he ran over. Wind from the rotors buffeted him but he hardly felt it as he ran to the ship.

The crewman tossed out a few crates, then grabbed his arm and pulled him up and inside. The door slammed and he felt the craft rise. Almost immediately it started moving forward and didn’t seem to rise anymore.

Tony looked around. The original CH-53 was big enough to carry a small
truck, but this one’s innards were filled with electronics consoles and ammo boxes.

The crewman handed him a headset and Tony put it on. A few moments later he heard, “Hello, Major. Captain Wells here. Welcome back.”

Tony was grabbing for support as he heard those words. The craft had moved suddenly down, sideslipped, then climbed. Answering as best he could, he said, “Glad to be here, Captain. Are we having problems?”

“None, sir. We are away clean and making good time. Would you like to come forward?” The machine went through a roller-coaster bump.

“Yes.” Curiosity replaced uncertainty, and he unplugged the headset. Moving forward, he pulled aside the curtain that blocked even the dim red light from reaching the cockpit.

His eyes adjusted further, and by the dim light of the instrumentation he saw the two pilots. At first he couldn’t make out their faces, then realized they were wearing masks, or goggles. Those had to be infrared goggles, designed to give the wearer vision in low light. Or no light.