The Richard Jackson Saga: Book 13 : Regicide

by Ed Nelson

  They could help with that. The South Koreans were being notified that China would no longer support North Korea. This should keep the North busy on their southern border. [I know this is for a plot purpose, but the smart thing to have done would have been to tell North Korea they should send the Empress Haoran’s head, and if they failed to do so China would cut off support. Of course, once his head was sent back, China could still cut off support. I only bring this up for your consideration for next time.]

  This had been directed by the Empress. She had no intention of replacing the Soviets as their financial backer. The Russians certainly weren’t in a position to do it. She wanted China to be accepted in the larger world community.

  At the same time she let North and South Korea know this, she also let the US and Cuba know that she wouldn’t support the Castro regime.

  While all this was going on I was packing my backpack and checking my bow and arrows to see if they were okay. No warpage or delamination, feathers intact. Spare waxed strings, armguard in good shape. I was ready to go. [Go with braided nylon and you won’t need the wax.]

  It was a good night for the drop. The winds aloft were not against me. Even though the location wasn’t lit we had the coordinates. Once I was close to the ground, I should be able to see the moonlight reflected in the streams that bisected the canyon.

  Counting on the reflection was a bit of a long shot but the terrain features were distinct so I should recognize them. I would be following my supplies down so even if I missed the canyon with the good hiding spot, I would only have to find another.

  The only thing left was to cross my fingers and hope it worked. I had my high-altitude oxygen bottle strapped to my chest and the mask adjusted tightly against my face.

  At thirty thousand feet I would be unconscious in a minute without it. I would be freefalling for about three minutes, so just because my chute should open automatically at one thousand feet it wouldn’t do to be unconscious at the time.

  The jumpmaster and I both saw that I was hooked up correctly and that my gear was secure and tight. Was I nervous? You bet. Was I going to do it? Yes.

  When the jump light came on, I was positioned in front of the open door. The Jumpmaster pushed the small pallet out in front of me, then I followed.

  It was strange jumping out in the black of the night. You couldn’t even see the ground. I jumped using the arch position to give a stable flight pattern. I was able to hold it until I was jerked upwards.

  The parasail opening was a complete surprise to me. Time seemed to flow slowly while I was freefalling. That or it flew by. It was hard to judge.

  I had lost sight of my pallet of supplies on the way down, but when my chute opened and slowed me down, I saw the light on top of my pallets exactly where it was supposed to be.

  I had to follow the pallet down as I couldn’t steer it. I did see the reflection off of two streams, so it looked like I was in the correct canyon. The maps didn’t show any other canyons with two streams, several with one, or none, but no others with two.

  The pallet hit the ground and bounced. This gave me a good indicator of where the ground was, so I was able to prepare myself for my landing. I wish I had a motion picture of it as I landed on my feet and stayed on them as I ran forward.

  I caught, then turned and pulled the cords on the chute until it collapsed and then rolled it up. It was an hour until daybreak, and I could confirm that I was where I wanted to be.

  That was a long cold hour. Even with my high-altitude gear on it was cold. If this was summer in North Korea I didn’t want to be here in the winter.

  What I realized later was that my core temperature had dropped from the high altitude. Once that warmed up everything was fine.

  At daybreak, I started north to see where I was at. The north canyon wall was only a mile from my location. You couldn’t see it because of the trees.

  Looking at all the trees around me I wondered how I hadn’t landed in one. Even though the clearing was about five acres it wouldn’t have taken much to be dangling with a broken leg forty feet in the air.

  We had thought we had taken all risks into account. The Chinese army was new at this. We should have passed this plan by the experts that we had training with us. 22 SAS. Live and learn. At least live this time.

  It took me until mid-afternoon to lug everything into the small cave in the north wall. There was no indication of any visitors since I was last here.

  I set up the radio and squelched it twice at noon to let my control know that I was down safely. I waited and they didn’t come on the air so there was no change at the resort area.

  I ate a cold ham sandwich which I had brought along. It was very cold still from being in my backpack when I jumped. It was still tasty. I then unrolled my sleeping bag and kipped out until after dark.

  When I woke it was dark out. Using the headlamp, I wore on my baklava hat I strapped on my backpack and bow package and started my one-hundred-and-sixty-mile walk.

  I made twenty-one miles according to my pedometer that night, which was good because this was the rough country portion of the trip.

  Using one of the dependable fir trees I camped for the day. Again, I slept all day and walked all night. The blazes we had left prevented me from wandering from the trail. The ones cut close to the base of the tree were easier to find than the ones at head height. I thought it would have been the reverse. I didn’t count on the fact you would be looking down mostly to keep your footing, only looking up occasionally to see if it was clear ahead.

  Somebody in the daytime would miss the low blazes. The SEALs knew what they were doing.

  The trail markers I had left from my boy scout training were not of much use. Small rocks stacked and sticks pointing left on animal trails didn’t last very long. What the animals didn’t disturb the rain washed away.

  I wondered if I should write an article for Boy’s Life.

  Chapter 51

  I arrived at our previous hiding place outside the resort seven days after starting the journey. That was an average of twenty-two miles per day. Not as good as I hoped for but better than the estimates made before I set out.

  There was no evidence that anyone had been near the hiding place, so I went ahead and set up there for the day. I would have to scout the place out at night before switching to days.

  The nights to explore the area to see if it was safe for me and then days to see if Haoran was still there and coming out on the patio.

  After nightfall and a final cup of coffee brewed over my small kerosine stove I moved out. I was sparing with the stove as the kerosine would have to last me until I got back to my stored supplies.

  Running out of the ability to brew coffee was a nonstarter. Not enough to light a fire that created smoke but still important to me.

  The first thing I noted was that the large flat field next to the river didn’t have any bivouacked troops. That would have upset my plan to no end. However, I wouldn’t have let it stop me.

  Next, I made a large circle around the entire resort area to see if everything had remained the same. It would have been a messy getaway for me if the troops had moved to the other side of the resort so could still chase me down.

  I felt comfortable escaping through the woods. Lord knows I have had enough experience at it. Still, with several thousand soldiers on your trail, it could get difficult, if not impossible.

  Thinking of that reminded me of a script that had been passed by Warner Brothers. It was titled Mission Impossible. They turned it down but thought it might do well on TV. I wondered if it would ever air.

  My scouting the area made me think that it would be safe to continue on my mission. Next was to see if Haoran was still there and spending time on the patio.

  It took me two days to get my sleep turned around so that I felt comfortable watching the patio from the blind I had made about two hundred yards out.

  It was better than the duck blinds used at home. While they could fool ducks, they wou
ldn’t fool the human eye.

  I used my training from the Gillies in Scotland to build a low blind. It consisted of a tarp. I covered the tarp in the same vegetation that grew at that spot.

  The night before I had scooped out enough dirt that I could lie under the tarp without creating a rise in the terrain.

  Since Haoran only came out in the afternoon I didn’t have to worry about the morning sun which would have reflected off the binoculars I carried.

  I spent two days getting my sleep turned around so that I could be awake all day. I had to crawl into position before the first light and remain there all day without falling asleep.

  I could just see me falling asleep and rolling over and pulling the tarp off of me. I had a plastic bottle to pee in. I would then dump the pee in a cat hole.

  It would be awkward but better than peeing my pants. I hoped that my bowel movement schedule wouldn’t change, or it could get messy.

  I spent two days under the tarp before Haoran made an appearance.

  Each night I had come back to the hide and worked on making a large fighting hole. To draw and fire the longbow I had to stand with enough room to do so.

  I would dig the dirt up and then spend time spreading it around so that it wouldn’t be noticed. The hole was four feet deep and six-foot around. That was a lot of dirt to spread. I appreciated the thought that had gone into the intrenching tool.

  The tarp was large enough to cover the hole. By the afternoon that Haoran showed up, I was thinking about improvements I could make to my hide, like some sort of brace I could lean on so my back wouldn’t get so tired.

  When Haoran came out I saw him without using the binoculars. I looked through them to confirm it was him.

  I carefully strung my bow and selected three arrows and pushed them slightly into the ground so I could get at them quickly.

  I gently pulled the tarp aside without standing up completely. Then I nocked an arrow. At two hundred yards it should be an easy shot for me. With three hundred pounds of force, it was almost a flat trajectory.

  You know it when your arrow is flying true. This one was. I still nocked a second one. I was beginning to bend my bow the second time when the first hit.

  It was center mass. There was no doubt I had shot him through his black heart. I still loosed the second arrow. The first had pinned him to the chair he was sitting in. The second took him between his eyes.

  That shot was a bit of luck. I was aiming for his chest once again, but the body sagged. I then calmly put the remaining arrow in my quiver and ran stooped over back to the woods.

  I wanted to make certain they knew who did this. A message had to be sent. The arrows were in my colors with my coat of arms on them. North Korea and then the secret world of intelligence had to get the message that you didn’t mess with me and mine.

  East Germany, the Soviet Union, and now North Korea had got the message, I hoped not to have to send it again.

  Back at my hide under the fir tree I picked up my backpack which was loaded and ready to go and started my walk back to the border. I was a good two miles away when I heard a siren going off. I think they had discovered Haoran.

  There was no sense in trying to run, I kept a steady pace for the rest of the afternoon and well into the night. From previous experience, I knew a cordon would be thrown out at the furthest distance they thought I could make by the time they had it in place.

  My goal was to be further along and keep ahead as they would widen it as time went by. One advantage I had was that I was in the deep woods and had a marked trail. They didn’t. They would put checkpoints at every crossroad and intersection.

  The country up to the border was so rough I would only have to cross two roads my entire hike.

  I made over thirty miles before daybreak the next day. I had to sleep by this time so found a large drooping fir and made myself at home.

  Late in the afternoon, I started again. A light rain had started so I put on my poncho and kept going. This was good for me as troops hated rain when on boring duty. Standing at a crossroad in the rain counted as boring duty. I hoped they spent more time trying to stay dry than paying attention.

  The rain did slow me down, and then I had to spend time watching a road to make certain it was safe to cross. I only made twenty miles that day.

  Halfway back to my box canyon supply point and I was tiring. Another eighty miles to go. I slowed my pace down. If I made twenty miles a day from this point, I would be okay. I didn’t want to use up all my energy reserves and be staggering around. That is when I would be spotted.

  I came to the second road almost on top of the intersection. There were two troops there, sound asleep! I sidetracked far enough down the road to be out of sight and crossed.

  It was my last night before the box canyon. I was up early the next morning and on my way.

  When I arrived at the canyon it was almost like coming home. It represented safety to me. That didn’t stop me from scouting the area out before approaching the cave. It was clear.

  The first thing I did was heat up the water for my first cup of coffee in two days. It was only instant, but it was heavenly. I remembered the first time I tried it in Bellefontaine and hating it. That seemed like a lifetime ago.

  Next on my agenda was to clean up for the first time in several weeks. I went so far as to go down to the ice-cold stream and wash. It didn’t take long but it was needed desperately. When you smell your own stink that is too much.

  I didn’t even try to shave with that cold water. After putting on clean clothes I felt like a new person.

  I then fired up the radio and reported.

  “The evil prince is down, coming home.”

  Chapter 52

  The danger increased the closer to the border I got, but I still felt like the worse was over. I had dealt with Haoran so that threat was gone. I doubted if he had fanatics working for him.

  All indications were that he had to pay for everything. With the money flow cut off those attempts would stop. Others would arise with time but today wasn’t the day to worry about them.

  I had the best night's sleep in ages, even if it was in a damp cave on hard rock.

  In the morning after taking care of the morning details and the last of my instant coffee, I was ready for my last leg.

  I followed the blazes we had left the first time in. This had me slanting to the Yellow Sea coastline and a road. It was a two-lane highway and lightly traveled. Most vehicles in North Korea were owned by the government, the elite, or high-ranking officials. Those were usually the same.

  Walking close to but parallel to the road to avoid surprises, my caution was justified. There was a group set up off the side of the road.

  The group consisted of about fifty North Korean troops. They were having tea around a large campfire. Their weapons were all stacked. Each stack contained five rifles leaning together to support each other. They looked like a frame for a teepee.

  There was a large car parked beside the road. It was a monster. I had to look at it twice to realize it is a Bugatti. I don’t know that type of automobile, but I think it is the one called, “Royale.” It was long and designed to be driven by a chauffeur. It is an impressive vehicle.

  That is when I noticed the passenger being driven. I recognized Kim Jong-il as the number two man in NK and son of the current ruler. What was he doing out here?

  As those thoughts were going through my mind, five officers with submachines guns opened fire on all the troops. They died quickly trying to get their stacked weapons. Several tried to run into the woods, but the clearing was too large for them to make it to the tree line.

  This betrayal was astonishing. What happened next was more so. A higher-ranking officer ordered the other officers to make certain all the troops were dead.

  I stood there frozen in my concealed position watching this disaster unfold. Once all the troops were confirmed dead by the officers shooting them in the head their leader told them to reload their weapo
ns.

  When they ejected the magazines to insert full ones their leader raised his weapon and killed all five of them. A double betrayal.

  I wasn’t even surprised that Kim shot the highest officer in the back. Then he calmly went over and headshot all the officers to ensure they were down.

  Kim then called his driver over to help him move bodies off the road. After that was done, what I thought would now happen did. He murdered the driver.

  Not even Hollywood would present something this crazy.

  While the shooting had been going on I had assembled my bow. I at first had no intentions of using it, as I was grossly outnumbered, but now I wasn’t. As Kim turned to get into the driver's seat, I shot him in the back. I had to do it fast. I didn’t want to get blood on the seat of my new car.

  I dragged Kim’s body to the side of the road and examined the vehicle. I now saw why all the killings had occurred. The car flooring was stacked with gold. There had to be several tons of it.

  Things must be going bad for the government, and he was fleeing.

  It was now only six miles to the border. If I remembered right only one NK checkpoint. It could hardly be called that. Three or four troops and a swivel post acting as a gate.

  My memory was correct as I drove right through their gate. The soldiers were sitting beside the road drinking something from a bottle when I roared through. By the time they stood up I was past and heading to China.

  When I got to the Chinese border, I stopped at the real frontier gate, which would wreck a tank. There I showed my Chinese Diplomatic passport. They were expecting me to cross somewhere along here so I wasn’t held up.

  They wanted me to stop and talk at their command post, but I told them I was on an urgent errand to Beijing. This was true. They were kind enough to fill the Type 41 Bugatti Royale’s gas tank for me from jerricans.

  I drove to the airport in Beijing. It was one hundred miles, but the car flew along. I was in love with this thing. It handled like a slug, but I attributed that to the weight in gold.