The Richard Jackson Saga: Book 13 : Regicide

by Ed Nelson

  Bingo.

  I placed another call to the White House. I told the Chief of Staff about Haoran’s many visits to North Korea. They didn’t have many assets there, but they would ask if anyone was aware of him being there currently.

  I ordered up my plane to return to China, I suspected all the action was going to be on that side of the world.

  This time the flight took just as long as all the others but didn’t seem as tiring. I was heading towards some possible action. It was also acting rather than reacting.

  I continued to mull over what I could do best for the world. I decided once more the best I could do was build infrastructure at a reasonable profit and hope that others used the improved infrastructure to help themselves.

  Upon arrival in Beijing, I was placed in the usual escort, but we took a different route into the city. I inquired why and was told it was to try to prevent ambushes. There were a dozen possible routes. The convoy leader would pick three at random just before they started. His immediate subordinate then would choose one of the three. This prevented individual bias.

  There could be group bias, but no system is perfect. It would take a machine with enormous computation power to come up with a truly random number. Hmm.

  I was allowed to see the Empress upon arrival. She was aware that every resource they had was looking for Haoran, now concentrating on North Korea.

  The only problem is there was a good chance that he had subverted the MSS agents responsible for watching North Korea. They had doubled the agents up so no one could work alone but if two bad apples were working together, he could remain hidden.

  The breakthrough was made by the Americans. Whenever Haoran flew into Pyongyang he was picked up in a limo. They had a permanent watcher at the airport who took down license numbers and the names of passengers.

  Haoran had taken the same limo so often that the watcher had sent a picture of him to Washington. They traced the license number of the limo and found it to be a government agency.

  The agency provided entertainment to high-level officials. It seemed they had an official brothel department in the North Korean government. Now the Americans knew where to look it was easy to locate Haoran.

  Despite the legend of the prostitutes with hearts of gold, they are a corrupt bunch willing to do almost anything for money. The Americans had penetrated the brothel a long time ago with the Yankee dollar. They just had never thought to check to see if Haoran was there.

  The brothel was about fifteen miles outside of Pyongyang in a secluded park-like setting. Besides the women, it was set up as a complete resort for the North Korean elite.

  Once his whereabouts were known the question was how to get at him. The Empress didn’t want to go to war with North Korea over this, and there was a chance he could once more getaway.

  It would have to be a stealth mission. A small group would parachute into North Korea and assassinate him.

  I told the Empress I knew just the group. Seal team two. She wasn’t aware of my venture into Laos, so I told her of that mission. I hadn’t signed an NDA with the US government about my involvement so felt free to relate the details.

  She had a call placed to the White House. It went through much quicker than any I had ever made. I then learned a secret, there was a line kept open permanently between Washington and Beijing, this was to avoid misunderstandings expanding into incidents. They were cute about it. The phones used were red.

  The Empress and JFK talked for a while. When they got down to business, he asked to speak with me. The speakerphone was turned on.

  “Rick, I can make SEAL team two available but there is a problem. They will not know what he looks like for certain. I don’t want to blow this up any more than we have to. There will have to be someone along who can personally recognize him.”

  “No problem. Can I ask that Harry Beal’s element be the one that goes with me: We know each other?”

  “You would go on this mission?”

  “I’m the only one who knows the Seal team and Haoran. It’s not like I haven’t done work like this before.”

  “I will tentatively okay this mission. I have to check if the SEALs in question are even available. Their command will have the final say on whether or not they think the mission is feasible.”

  “That sounds good. How long before we know?”

  “I will be calling back in two hours with a preliminary report. The insertion plan will probably take longer.”

  “Okay, we will be here.”

  The Empress inquired, “Rick, you will do this for us?”

  “I’m the only one that knows both parties. Plus, I’m getting sick and tired of reacting to Haoran. He only has to get lucky once.”

  “You are amazing. China owes you so much, I don’t know how we will ever repay you.”

  “There is only one problem.”

  “What is that?”

  “I’ve never parachuted before.”

  Chapter 38

  With my brilliant statement about not parachuting before, I just about ruined everything. I hadn’t jumped before but the new parasails were like the homemade parasail I had used to escape the gulag.

  To use each of them you had to jump off a high place, and then twist your body and pull on the cords to go in the direction you want. The only thing different really was to remember to open the parachute.

  The Empress insisted that I talked to a parachute instructor about this. I was taken to an air force training base where they taught pilots how to bail out.

  Their army didn’t have any paratroopers, so this was the only source of knowledge. I was introduced to a hard-bitten instructor. He had no English, and my Mandarin, while better all the time was not up to the task.

  It was fortunate that my escort spoke both well. Maybe it wasn’t good fortune, but good planning.

  When I explained what type of parachute, I would be using the instructor shrugged his shoulders. They only used the round style; these were probably world war II surplus!

  He agreed that my parasailing experience was equal to the Rogallo wing parachutes in use today. They didn’t even have any of them. If I had one leftover, could he, have it so they could learn how to make them and practice with them? They seemed to be the chute of the future.

  Even if they had one, he wouldn’t recommend my trying to practice. The incident of injury in first-time jumpers with any type of chute was high. The fewer jumps the less chance of injury.

  That made some sense, but I would feel better if I could practice. We had time before this mission could take off. The SEAL team had to be in position, the area around the resort that Haoran was staying spied out.

  There had to be a jump zone identified. Then how were we to get out of North Korea? Also, just because Haoran was there it didn’t mean that he would come out to where we could get at him.

  The place was too big and had too many people to try to go inside. We had to be able to get him while he was outside and at a distance.

  We needed the SEAL team element here before we could make plans. The CIA was doing high-altitude overflights taking pictures of the site. These would be made available to the SEAL team.

  This gave me enough time to call the states and having ten Rogallo wing parachutes shipped from Little River to Beijing. They would be on military aircraft with a high priority.

  In two days, we had them. I was told that it would be a full week before the team would arrive. This gave me time to get comfortable with these chutes.

  My instructor was extremely happy to get the chutes. He immediately had one put aside in a locked room as the prime example. If there were any questions at a later date, he would refer to this unopened, unused parachute as the master chute.

  Two more were taken by an armed escort to the best and as far as I knew the only parachute manufacturer in China. They would open one and take measurements, determine materials used, and reverse engineer them.

  I wondered briefly about the moral and legal issues involv
ed, but since my life might hang in the balance with these chutes someday, I didn’t wonder very long.

  They would also keep one unopened as a master.

  That left seven chutes to practice with. The first thing that the instructor had his riggers do was to open one chute on a long table. As they opened and unpacked the chute, they would make a drawing of the chute at each stage. They wanted to be able to repack it exactly. I approved of this idea.

  Once they had the drawings in place, they repacked the opened chute. I accompanied them to a plane very familiar to me, a C-47, the military version of the DC3. There were some differences between the two.

  The DC3 had a rounded tail while the C-47 was squared off. This was to allow for the C-47 to tow gliders with an attached shackle. There was a cargo door that could be removed to make it easier to jump out of.

  There is also an astrodome for the navigator. I was told the floor was strengthened for heavier loads.

  None of these changed the flight characteristics of the aircraft, so if push came to shove, I could fly it. Not that I wanted to on this mission. If I had to it meant we were in a world of trouble.

  We went up in the plane with sandbags attached to the parachute harness. There was a static line to pull the ripcord after the chute was clear of the plane.

  We went up to ten thousand feet. We had safety lines attaching us to the aircraft. They were short enough we couldn’t get out the door. I liked that feature.

  I was able to get right to the edge of the door and look down ten thousand feet. When sitting inside the plane, I never felt uncomfortable about the height. Looking straight down ten thousand feet was a different feeling altogether.

  My instructor moved around freely as though he was in his living room at home. I kept a hand on the safety rails all the time.

  When we got to the height, he tossed the sandbags out of the plane. We watched them fall at first then the static line pulled the ripcord. The chute opened flawlessly. At least they could be safely repacked. That was good to know!

  I was wearing one of the unopened new chutes. Now that the first test was passed. It was my turn, I thought. Instead, a young pilot in training went first. It seemed I was considered too valuable for the first human test in China.

  Since the pilot's chute opened as promised, we circled until the ground radioed that he had landed okay. Then I was allowed to go.

  When the instructor who was acting as jumpmaster signaled, I stepped out into nothing. It was but moments until the static line pulled my ripcord.

  While I was falling the wind rushed by creating a lot of noise. When my chute opened with a yank on my body, the world became a lot quieter.

  The instructor had fussed over my harness making certain that it was on tight and in the correct places. He told my translator that men had been castrated when their harnesses were not correct.

  I made sure that mine was tight in the right place in my crotch and nothing important was trapped under the straps.

  The force made by the sudden slowing when my chute opened made me a believer in having the equipment adjusted correctly.

  Now that my chute was open, I was able to take a moment to look around. I was to land on the airfield, which was a big enough target. Preferably on the grass rather than a concrete runway.

  Made sense to me.

  I was facing away from the airport and the wind was drifting me further away. I used my parasailing experience to turn my direction of fall.

  The professionally made parasail was so much better than the homemade rig, I wondered how I hadn’t killed myself.

  I was able to land within a few feet of the target zone I had selected. I bent my knees and took a couple of steps to try to land upright but went down on my butt anyway. It didn’t matter. I had done it.

  I was taken up three more times that day and jumped successfully. Each time I was given a new unused chute. I even managed to stay on my feet on the second and third jumps. I was feeling cocky on my fourth one so of course, I bumped halfway across the runway when I didn’t spill my chute fast enough.

  After dark, I was taken up one more time. To be qualified I had to make a nighttime jump. It was a moonlit night, and the airport runway lights were on, so it wasn’t that much different than a daytime jump.

  If it were cloudy and no moonlight with no ground lights it would be a different animal. That is where preplanning would come into play in our mission.

  After my night drop, I was awarded a set of parachutist wings. They had the Imperial dragon centered on them. I had never seen these before. I commented on that.

  I was told that the Chinese Air Force didn’t award parachutist wings; only the Army would. The Empress had ordered such a group be created. Since they didn’t currently have an airborne group, I was parachutist number one!

  I wondered if I could wear them on my Coldstream uniform. I think I could but, on my right, rather than the left. I had seen other officers with their British set on the left and foreign ones on their right.

  Chapter 39

  There would be a one-week delay in getting the SEAL team element in place. Something about recovering from an insertion. No details beyond that.

  With the mission in first place on my mind, I asked to see all the aerial photographs taken. Not that I would be able to interpret them as well as the professionals, but I wanted to become familiar with the area.

  Hundreds of them showed all the terrain from the resort area to the Chinese border. There were all sorts of annotations about what the maps were showing. The one thing missing was an escape trail.

  It appeared that was for us to pick out which made sense. I spent many hours looking for ways in and out. It was relatively easy. You had to pick a route that would have the least radar coverage and be prepared to fly low all the way.

  To me, it looked like the best route was taking off from Fengcheng China the crossing the border near Gulouzi China, and then turning towards Phyongwon before jumping out near Pyongyang. But that was my opinion.

  I had wondered about a submarine insertion and pick up off the coast as it would be the shortest distance. I was disabused with the idea quickly. The North Korean coast in that area was almost shoulder to shoulder with coast watchers.

  My flight plan would be under three hundred miles so distance wasn’t the problem. The obstacle was parachuting out in the dark with no lit landing zone.

  Where would we land and how would we keep track of each other?

  Once we were down, we would have to accomplish the mission, which I didn’t have the faintest idea how to do, but experts were on the way.

  Then there was the exfiltration, getting out of Dodge. Several things in our favor would be the many forests. We could keep a low profile going through those. I had learned that in East Germany.

  I was sent a CIA briefing on North Korea, if they kept on the course they were going, they would denude these forests in the next thirty years. This was due to the need for firewood and farmland. They were leeching the soil without replenishing. They would starve their people if they weren’t careful.

  Not so good was the mountain territory we would have to travel through. While the elevations were not that high the mountains were new and rugged.

  I penciled in several possible routes to share with the SEAL team when they arrived. They would probably have all sorts of objections, but it gave me something to do.

  I spent a lot of time at my offices. The Bank of Guangzhou was doing well. Almost too well. They were making so many loans they were causing inflation in their area. I had to force them to tighten up their loan requirements to limit the yuan loaned.

  When a market got as hot as this one was getting, the collapse would be nasty. It was past time to cool it down. As soon as the requirements were instituted ten percent of the loans defaulted. This was no surprise. I was relieved that it wasn’t more.

  Those books I had been reading had taught me a few things. While the Bank lost money on the defaulted loans, the proper
ties seized would have future value, so the losses weren’t as bad as one would think.

  What impressed me was that all the defaulters were arrested. After investigation, a few were let go, many sent to prison and in one blatant case executed.

  That seemed draconian by US and UK standards, but it sure did send a message.

  The Chinese Department of Transportation, or whatever title they gave themselves, announced that an expressway network would be constructed.

  It would be a “freeway,” in the sense it was free from cross traffic. They were calling it the National Trunk Highway System or NTHS.

  When completed, one would be able to cross China at 75mph without encountering one traffic signal. Most freight was by railway, but it would be less expensive in the long run to use trucks to reach many towns and villages.

  There would be many rest areas and fuel stations along the way. Newly licensed drivers would be restricted from using the NTHS until they gained experience.

  Unlike the US, passing on the right or speeding would lead to severe penalties.

  I had to wonder if this included a beheading.

  After all, China is China.

  This program was to be paid for by the gracious Empress Ping who was issuing bonds that would be purchased by the wealthiest Chinese willing to improve the middle kingdom.

  Willing my Aunt Martha’s aching knees.

  I received a letter in my mail pouch from Mrs. Echevarria. She was concerned with Fra Tomas and his actions. He and his Bishop had declared the estancia a special part of the diocese and that a surtax would be charged.

  It looked like it was time for a reformation in Spain.

  I wrote back to her that she was to charge the church a rent equal to the taxes imposed. Taking care of the children of the ranch was one thing. I wasn’t going to support the Bishop in his efforts to become a Cardinal.

  That shows the simplistic view I held of the Church, but I wasn’t far wrong. One thing I had learned along the way was that someone would always try to have their hand in my pocket.

  I got to choose the hand.