Red Phoenix

by Larry Bond

  The Logistics Computing Facility, building A34, looked more modern than most. It was almost windowless, with a fortress-like air. He had to walk halfway around it to find an entrance. After a close inspection of his armed forces ID card, the front desk issued him a pass and gave him directions to “Miss Larson’s office.” They didn’t ask his business, which was just as well.

  After leaving the reception area he went through a door marked AIR-CONDITIONING BOUNDARY — KEEP CLOSED. The temperature dropped by ten degrees and there was a whirr in the air. The corridors were full of people in Army uniforms and civilian clothes. He started looking for Anne immediately, rehearsing what he was going to say. “Okay, Tony, whatever you did on the subway, don’t do it now.”

  The second floor was quieter, with carpeting instead of tile on the floor. He turned the corner into corridor C, wiping his palms.

  The first thing he saw was a receptionist’s desk, with a nameplate, but it wasn’t Anne’s — GLORIA BURNS. Miss Burns looked up from a computer printout. “May I help you?”

  “Uh, I’m looking for Anne Larson,” Tony answered. “She’s supposed to be in room two ten.”

  The receptionist glanced at the phone board. “Miss Larson is on the phone right now. If you’d like to wait, I’ll tell her you’re here. What did you need to see her about?”

  Suddenly Tony felt his face getting warmer. “Ah, it’s personal. Just tell her Captain Christopher is here please, ma’am.”

  He saw Gloria’s eyes give him a once-over, and then she said, “Fine. Just take a seat.”

  There was a couch in the reception area and Tony sat down. He watched Gloria’s departing form, which was not uninteresting, go toward a door. The plate next to it said A. LARSON — SUPERVISOR.

  The Air Force didn’t pay fighter pilots to be slow-witted. Anne was the boss? He quickly reevaluated his opinion of her, based on what little knowledge he had. He was a little ashamed that he had to raise it. “That will teach you, Saint,” he said to himself. “Never take a woman for granted.”

  Gloria was still standing in the door, talking in a low voice, about him no doubt. He couldn’t hear Anne’s reply, but her secretary (Tony forced himself to think of Gloria that way) came back and sat down. “It’ll just be a moment.” Then she went back to her printout.

  Tony glanced at his watch: eleven forty-five. At least his timing was good. He hoped to ask her out for lunch. He didn’t know how he was going to get her to say yes, but what the hell.

  He spent most of his time watching the phone board, and after about three or four minutes the light went out. Miss Burns looked up and said, “You can go in now.”

  Okay, boy, this is it. Sydney or the bush. He wiped his palms again, uncomfortably aware that the receptionist was watching him from the corner of her eye. He walked up to the open door and stopped short, knocking twice on the doorframe. “Come in.” It was Anne’s voice.

  She was sitting at an L-shaped wood desk covered with papers and printouts. She recognized him immediately. “I knew it.” She didn’t look pleased.

  Tony smiled, looking a little like a child caught doing something he shouldn’t. “I came to Seoul to see if you really…”

  The phone rang and Anne picked it up. “Larson. Yes, I know, I’ve my two best people trying to figure out what happened.” She looked up at Tony, who was doing his best to look pleasant. “Listen, I should have something this afternoon. Is that soon enough for you? I’m a little busy now.… I know. I’ll call you back later.”

  She hung up and looked at Tony. “I’m sorry, excuse me. This is not a good time, especially for ‘personal visits.’ ”

  “I’m sorry if I said something wrong. I just wanted to see if you would like to go — ”

  A knock on the door stopped him. A man in shirtsleeves was holding a piece of paper. He said, “Oh, hi,” to Tony and looked at Anne. “Have you seen this memo?”

  “Let me see it.” She stood up and walked over, took the sheet, and glanced at it. “Yes, Harry, I got one yesterday in my mail. It’s general routing.”

  “Well, I just wanted to make sure. See you,” Harry said as he left.

  She sat down heavily behind the desk, looking somewhat disgusted. “What were you saying?”

  “Just that I wanted to talk with you some more, and I was hoping …”

  “Oh, God!” Anne said softly, looking out the door. She smiled and waved at someone in the hall. Tony turned and looked. A middle-aged woman was pushing a coffee cart down the corridor, waving back.

  “Anne, I know you said you didn’t like to go out, but I thought maybe you’d like to have lunch. I’d really — ”

  “Sounds good. Let’s go.” She stood up and grabbed a largish purse off a corner of her desk. Tony stepped out of the way as she strode through the door, then followed.

  “Gloria, I’m going out for some lunch, I should be back in an hour.” Her voice sounded normal, but Tony was puzzled. She didn’t sound like someone looking forward to a pleasant outing.

  “Okay, Miss Larson. Have a good time.” Gloria had a funny smile. What was going on here?

  They strode down the corridor and stairs with Anne setting a fast pace. It reminded Tony of how she had moved during the riot. She was a little ahead of him, and he felt like an idiot, almost trotting trying to keep up with her.

  They went past the front desk and Tony dashed ahead to open the front door for her. This took a major effort, and as his hand pushed it open, he said, “I win.”

  She looked puzzled for a moment, but he went for it. “Oh, it’s okay, I like to jog before lunch.”

  They stepped outside and she seemed to relax. “I’m sorry, I guess I was moving a little fast. I just wanted to get away from all those eyes.”

  Tony looked at her with a puzzled look. She took his arm. “Please, let’s just walk.” They went down the steps. “I know a nice lunch place about a ten-minute walk from here.”

  “Anne, what do you mean about ‘eyes’? Was it something I said?”

  “Yes, Tony, but it’s not your fault. Gloria is head grape on the grapevine. She told me you said your business was ‘personal.’ Two seconds after you went in my office half the floor knew I had a gentleman caller. That ‘important memo’ Harry had to show me was about the coffee fund.”

  “Oh. Is that why you acted so odd later?”

  She nodded. “And the lady with the cart.”

  “What about the lady with the cart?” he asked. “Was she using the cart as a cover or something?”

  “Oh, that’s her cart, but she works the main floor, not the second.”

  “I’m sorry, I’ve embarrassed you. I just wanted to see if you — ”

  “You keep saying that, but I said on the subway I wasn’t interested in going out. The only reason I’m here now is that you are the lesser of two evils.” She added, smiling, “Besides, you are kind of cute.”

  Tony blinked in surprise, but continued, “Whatever the reason, I do not consider a riot the best place to meet people, but I liked your style. Why should it be such a big deal that I ask you to lunch?”

  “Look, I just don’t go out a lot, and those bazoos will spend their lunch hour discussing us.” She stomped her foot as she walked.

  Tony had a flash. “Why is it such a bad time at work?”

  “The place is going crazy. My office maintains the software that tracks all logistical movements in and out of Korea. They’re doing things that the system was never designed for. Moving stuff in while they move the same stuff out …”

  With only occasional nods and a yes now and then, Tony followed Anne to a small diner. It was a little crowded, but they found a table. Most of the clientele was Korean, which Tony took to be a good sign.

  “… they’re using the most inefficient schedules. I know they are brighter than that. Wait a minute. I’ve been talking for five minutes.”

  “Yes, do you feel better? You’re a lady who cares about her work.”

  “You let me bl
ather on for five minutes? I feel like an idiot.”

  “Would you like to order? They’ve got kalbichim. It’s pretty good.”

  “Why did you let me talk so much?”

  “Look, Anne, you’re having a hard day — ”

  “Hard month, more like it.”

  “Fine. A hard month. I wanted to find out what was bothering you. And everybody likes to talk about their job. You already know what mine is. Now let’s order.”

  “All right.” She relaxed a little more, studying the menu. It was standard Korean fare, heavy on beef and fish, but spicy. She looked resigned. “I’ll just have pulgogi.”

  Tony frowned. “You don’t sound enthusiastic about the menu. Pulgogi’s just marinated beefsteak. You picked this place. Don’t you like Korean food?”

  “I haven’t had much besides pulgogi and a few other things. I guess I’m not very adventurous. I really came here because nobody from my office ever comes here.”

  “Next time I’ll wear a bag over my head.”

  She giggled. “Stop that. I shouldn’t be so upset, but — ”

  “It’s been a bad day. Yes, I remember.” Tony was pleased that Anne had actually laughed. “Can I make a few suggestions? I’ve tried most of the things on the menu at least once. I promise, nothing too exotic.”

  “All right.” This time she sounded a little more pleased, even curious. “What are you having?”

  “Pibim-bap. It’s got eggs, rice, meat, beans, lots of stuff. It’s good, but it’s a little spicy.”

  “I’ll try it, too.” She studied the menu with more interest. Most of it was printed with Hangul characters, but alongside each dish was an English transliteration of the name. “What’s myolchi?

  “Anchovies in a sweetish sauce.”

  “Yuck.”

  “No, it’s the old salt-and-sweet contrast. It’s not bad.”

  “I’ll pass. What goes well with pibim-bap?”

  “Yonppuri. It’s lotus root in a sweet sauce. It helps kill the fire.”

  “Fine, let’s order.”

  While they waited, Tony found out that Anne had been in Korea for three months, working as the systems programming supervisor. “I was promoted in the States and brought over to fill in this job. It’s the first time I’ve been in charge of other people.” She frowned.

  “You don’t like it?” Tony prompted.

  “I don’t know what to do. I’m much more comfortable working with the computer. I guess I don’t work well with groups — certainly not leading a group.”

  “This is a bad time for learning management skills,” he agreed.

  The food came, and they ate and talked and laughed a little. They were both equally handy with chopsticks. Tony fought his desire to talk about flying, and instead they talked about Korea, and what they’d seen, or not seen in Anne’s case.

  “I’ve been completely wrapped up in my work,” Anne said. “Remember the riot? That was my second trip downtown. My first was to the Kyongbok Palace. Nothing since early October.”

  “Anne, when the U.S. pulls out, you’ll go, too, and this is a beautiful country. I’ve been playing tourist ever since I got here, and I haven’t seen half of what I want to. The food, the art, the — ”

  “That surprises me. I thought fighter pilots just liked to fly and party.”

  Tony looked a little peeved. “I like both, but I don’t fly every day, and I don’t party every night. Uncle Sam paid my way over here, and there’s not a lot to do besides fly. I want to understand the country and the culture, at least a little.”

  “You’re right,” she said. “I’m sorry. I guess I just don’t feel comfortable exploring the country.”

  “I think you just need some practice. I’ve got a day off next weekend. I’m going to visit an old ruined fort south of here. Would you like to come along? It’s thousands of years old.”

  “I’m so busy right now. I usually work on the weekends.”

  “Well, what’s the deadline on this crunch project? We can just go after it’s over.”

  “Oh, there’s no deadline, I just normally work.”

  “Oh, well, please, take one day off and come out with me to visit the fortress. It’s not far, and there’s a good restaurant someone in the squadron told me about.”

  “I really should see some of the country before I have to leave. I may even enjoy myself.”

  Tony assured her. “You will.”

  CHAPTER 16

  Tremors

  NOVEMBER 10 — NEAR THE DMZ, SOUTH KOREA

  High on a hill above the full-scale mock-up of a Korean town, General Chang watched the afternoon’s scheduled urban-assault exercise move toward its planned climax.

  The sharp rattle of automatic weapons fire mixed with the hollow crump of exploding grenades reached General Chang’s ears as he lay watching the assault blast its way into the village. He kept his binoculars focused on the lead platoon as it advanced up a narrow street.

  Yes, that was the way to do it. One squad back shooting the hell out of likely enemy firing positions while another group dashed forward to close with the next house. The troops flattened against its walls while two men lobbed grenades in through doors and windows. Chang smiled as he saw the soldiers go in firing before the smoke from the grenades had even stopped billowing out of the building. Damn right. Charge in before the bastards inside had time to clear their heads.

  Without lowering the binoculars he said, “Make a note. Commend the first platoon. Give them a two-day pass.”

  His aide, crouching beside him with a pad and pencil, scribbled frantically, adding a new line to his tenth page of notes from this exercise alone. The general must be in a generous mood, he decided. For the conscript soldiers of South Korea’s army, a two-day pass was an almost unheard-of luxury. There’d be a lot of celebrating in the barracks tonight, and General Chang, the soldier’s soldier, would see his popularity soar even higher.

  Chang swung his binoculars over to follow the other part of the assault force. They were also making good progress, grenading their way deeper into the village. He watched and listened as the firing rose to an echoing crescendo and died away into a spatter of individual rifle shots. Then the firing stopped.

  “Tango One Five, this is Tango One One,” the radio crackled.

  Chang took the microphone held out by his radioman. “Go ahead, Tango One One. This is Tango One Five.”

  “The objective is secure. Repeat, the objective is secure.”

  Chang thumbed the mike switch. “Acknowledged. Assemble your troops in the town square. I’m coming down. Out.”

  The colonel tossed the mike back to his radioman, stood up brushing the dirt off his uniform, and headed toward his jeep. He was pleased. The exercise had gone like clockwork, with the village cleared of its hypothetical North Korean or subversive defenders in less than forty-five minutes.

  Chang clambered aboard his jeep and settled back as it tore off down the winding, dirt road toward the small group of houses that marked Exercise Area Five. He threw his head back and let the cold air rush over him. Winter was coming on fast and they would have snow soon. He smiled. Many in the cities hated the winter, the icy north winds, the shorter days. But for farmers, the winter was a welcome time — a chance to rest from endless days spent laboring in fields and rice paddies. Chang had always liked the winter.

  His jeep, radio aerial whipping in the breeze, slewed around a street corner and braked in front of the infantry company assembled in the village square.

  “Attention!” D company of his 1st Battalion straightened in a single fluid motion.

  Chang stood in his seat and returned their salute before jumping down out of the jeep. He strode over to the captain commanding D Company. “Fine work, Captain. Your boys looked very good.”

  “Thank you, sir. We’ve been working them hard these past few weeks.”

  Chang knew that was true. Every unit in his division had been given an accelerated training schedule. That wasn�
��t surprising, given the chaos sweeping through the country. And if anyone had noticed that most of the extra combat training centered on urban fighting, well, they’d kept their thoughts to themselves.

  He looked the company over carefully. Every man’s gear looked in good order and ready for use. These men looked tough and they’d acted tough. He made a snap decision. D Company would lead the column into Seoul.

  He studied the captain, too. The man had a good record. His men obviously liked and trusted him. And he was known around the 1st Battalion officers’ mess as a rabid political hard-liner. He was just the kind of officer Chang was looking for.

  “Very well, Captain. You can dismiss your company now.” Then Chang held up a hand. “But before you do, you should let them know that they’ve just won themselves a two-day pass.”

  He could see the front ranks smiling proudly, and he knew he’d just won another group of men who would fight for him when the time came.

  “Company! Form in a column of twos and head for the barracks!”

  The captain’s command roar cut through Chang’s thoughts. He turned back to the man. “Oh, and Captain?”

  “Sir?”

  “Join me in my quarters this evening for a drink. We’ve much to discuss, you and I. Be there at nineteen hundred hours sharp.”

  The man beamed. “Yes, sir! I’m honored, General.”

  Chang returned his salute and wheeled toward his jeep. He had other units to visit before this day was through.

  NOVEMBER 14 — YONGSAN ARMY BASE, SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA

  McLaren stood at his window watching the tear gas rise above the city to the north. If Seoul’s politicians had thought the cold weather would end the rioting, they’d been damned overoptimistic, he thought sourly. Instead of tapering off, the disturbances were spreading over all of South Korea. From the reports he’d seen, most of the major industrial cities — Pusan, Taegu, and Taejon — were at a standstill.

  Of course a lot of that could be blamed on the American and European trade sanctions. Overseas buyers had started breaking their contracts even before the sanctions went into effect, not wanting to get stuck with lot of overtaxed, unprofitable merchandise when they did. As far as McLaren could tell, the only people who were going to benefit from this whole mess were the international trade lawyers who were being called in left and right.