by Larry Bond
After a few steps, she asked, “Why . . .”
The hand pinched her shoulder, hard. He pushed her roughly and they began walking more quickly. “I said, do not speak!” the voice said harshly. “Save it for the motor pool. You are going to sign out all four trucks for this evening.”
It was Ye Dong-soo. She’d spoken to him long enough that afternoon to recognize his voice. They were walking quickly, almost to the front gate and the Korean army base outside. Other people were nearby, but almost everyone’s attention was still drawn to the fight. It was starting to get dark, too.
“They’re stopping civilians at the border.” She’d said as much that morning. Wasn’t he listening? The shock and paralysis of the surprise was passing, but fueled by adrenaline, her mind was racing. Could she persuade him to let her go? Could she yell for help somehow without getting stabbed? People were passing by them all the time. Why didn’t they notice?
At least he didn’t squeeze her throat this time. “You are coming with us. If we are stopped, you’re going to tell them that the army has given us permission to return home. I’m sure you will be able to convince them,” he added almost brightly.
She looked at the people walking by. Everyone was heading toward the altercation in the mess tent. She thought about winking or making some sort of weird expression. After all, Ye was behind her. He wouldn’t see it. But their first reaction would be to ask her what was wrong. That wouldn’t help her at all, and would just involve someone else.
Then she saw Cho Ho-jin. He’d just turned the corner and was heading toward them, walking quickly. He was some distance ahead, but they were still close to the camp. He had to pass by her to go in the front gate.
But what could she say? Did he have the pistol with him? No. She remembered it was back in her footlocker.
“We don’t have any paperwork to take the trucks, or to cross the border.” Cho was only meters away.
“I’m sure you can talk us through. The people at the motor pool will listen to you.” She tried to look straight ahead, and not at Cho.
Then he passed them without even looking in her direction, heading toward the commotion with everyone else. How many tall American women were in this camp, anyway? Was he too distracted to notice them?
Her heart sank and her legs seemed to lose their strength. His sudden appearance had meant salvation, but he’d passed by. More afraid now, she thought furiously. Keep Ye talking.
“What about drivers?” she asked, trying a practical approach.
“They’re already waiting near the motor pool,” Ye answered. “We’ll be moving in minutes, and loaded...”
Ye’s reply ended with a strangled “Gurk!” His hand on her shoulder tightened, then was torn loose. The motion pulled her around, and she saw Cho standing behind and to one side of the farmer. He had one hand on the front of Ye’s throat, pulling him back hard, so that he fell backwards over Cho’s outstretched leg. Cho was twisting his upper body as he pulled Ye down, literally throwing all his weight into the movement.
Her kidnapper, surprised and wide-eyed, landed hard enough to knock the wind out of him. Cho then delivered a vicious kick to the side of Ye’s head, and the farmer went limp.
Kary realized she was screaming, as much out of surprise and reaction to Cho’s fierce attack as she was from fear. She forced herself to stop, as those around her, including several ROK soldiers, saw what had happened. Ye and his alarmingly large knife were quickly taken into custody, while Cho promised to bring Kary to the provost’s office as soon as she’d had some time to recover.
She shivered, swallowing hard, and found Cho was supporting her, one arm around her waist and the other under an elbow. She did feel a little unsteady.
Cho was almost frantic. “Are you all right? Did you get cut anywhere?” Even as she tried to answer the question, Cho swung her around to check her back and neck for injuries.
“What about your throat?” he asked, studying her throat and then her shoulder. “Does it hurt anywhere?” He was holding her by her shoulders, his face full of concern.
Without thinking, she hugged him, hard, wrapping both arms around him and burying her face in his neck. She wasn’t crying, not exactly. It was half for support—no, it was all for support, and right now he was an iron pillar. “I thought you didn’t see me,” she said after a moment.
His arms were around her now, too. “I would never walk past you. You’re easy to find, especially in a crowd of Koreans.” That made her laugh, a little, and she eased her grip to something less desperate.
“Your expression was completely blank,” he explained. That was my first clue. And that nappeun nom was right behind you. You’d never let someone get that close.”
“Really?” she remarked, looking at the two of them. They both laughed, and realized that a small crowd surrounded them. As they released each other and she stood straighter, she heard cheers and questions. The ajummas all wanted to make sure she was unharmed, and everyone congratulated Cho on his neat takedown of her assailant.
She realized that she was still holding Cho’s hand, but was reluctant to let go. She was also a little embarrassed. Public displays of affection in Korea were usually limited to handholding, or a quick peck on the cheek. Embraces like theirs often earned a scolding from more conservative citizens, but under the circumstances, allowances could be made.
Cho also noticed her holding his hand, but made no move to break away. He smiled and said, “If you’re all right, you should go to the provost’s office.”
“Please come with me?” she asked.
3 September 2015, 0410 local time
Seventh Air Force Headquarters
Osan Air Base, South Korea
The Seventh Air Force was now fighting a round-the-clock war. Lieutenant General Randall Carter and his deputy, Brigadier General Tony Christopher, had agreed long ago that at least one of them would be in the ops center at all times. With advanced sensors and night vision gear for pilots, nighttime was just another operational environment. In fact, it was a little safer than flying during the day, with a lower risk of visually aimed potshots. And the air was smoother, without the thermals from daytime heating.
And it didn’t help that Washington was thirteen hours behind Seoul. The message Tony was reading had been sent at three in the afternoon, Washington time.
He’d already sent word to wake the general. They were supposed to be getting at least six hours of sleep out of every twenty-four, but it was a goal they didn’t always reach. For something like this, the boss had to be told right away.
General Carter hurried in, still shaking off sleep. Both he and Tony had quarters in the same building as the ops center. “Flash precedence?” he asked.
“The Chinese rejected the latest note,” Tony explained, handing Carter the hard copy. “All of a sudden, Pyongyang falling doesn’t seem like such a big deal.”
“It does change one’s perspective,” Carter remarked as he read the message, then took the time to read it again while Tony waited silently. “At least they’re giving us decent ROEs for the Chinese. Beijing is going to regret this,” the general predicted.
“They can still cause a lot of problems,” Tony replied with caution.
“But they can’t justify taking and holding Korean territory, at least not easily in this day and age, and we can cause problems for them as well.” Carter said the last part in a very positive way. Turning, he looked at the unit status board and pointed. “What are the Nineteenth and Twenty-Seventh doing?”
Both squadrons were equipped with F-22 Raptors and had been among the first reinforcements the Seventh Air Force had received, along with a flock of transports and aerial tankers.
“No changes, General. Rotating escorts for the E-3C AWACS and E-8C JSTARS aircraft, four reconnaissance sorties later today, and the rest on standby.” With total air superiority, the Raptors had little to do, but that could all change quickly.
“Reinforce the escorts from pairs to fo
ur-ship formations, and have the rest of the aircraft in the squadrons come up to alert plus fifteen at 0900. Send that out now, then tell the mission planning cell to double the escorts on all missions that will be anywhere north of Kaechon at 0900 or later.”
Tony made notes as the general spoke, nodded, and then simply looked at his boss.
The general was apologetic. “I’m sorry, Saint. I can’t tell you much, but you might want to look up ‘horizontal escalation.’ And between now and then, you and I are going to sit here and think of every dirty trick the Chinese could play on us, and what we can do to stop it.”
3 September 2015, 8:30 p.m. EDT
CNN Special Report
The wall behind the news anchor displayed a map of the South China Sea, framed by China on the north, Vietnam to the west, the Philippines to the east, and Malaysia far to the south. The blue oblong was dotted with small islands and archipelagos, and on the network’s map, two of the islands, both in the east near the Philippines, were highlighted by glowing red boxes. Insets showed close-ups of a triangular atoll and US warships steaming in formation. A scrolling banner across the bottom of the page read, “Naval Confrontation in the South China Sea—US and China Ready to Fight?”
“We’re breaking into our evening coverage to tell you about this latest development in the ongoing faceoff between China and the United States. Only hours after Beijing flatly refused to discuss their advance into the former North Korea, US Marines landed on a small island, not really even an island. It’s a tropical atoll called Scarborough Shoal, after a British ship that ran aground on it in the late 1700s.
“US Navy warships showed up early this morning local time and began escorting Chinese-flagged fishing boats out of the area. Those that refused were boarded. The ‘Notice to Airmen and Mariners’ posted by the US government declared an exclusion zone around the entire area while the US and Philippine Navy conducted ‘joint maritime security operations.’” The anchor read the text verbatim, but without any understanding.
“With us this evening is Dr. Eric Anderson from the Naval War College, a widely published expert on China and the long-running South China Sea dispute, to put this action in context.”
Anderson was slim, well dressed, and evidently used to being interviewed. He didn’t waste time or words. “The waters around Scarborough Shoal are being heavily fished by the PRC, Taiwan, and the Philippines. The atoll lies 530 miles from the nearest Chinese territory, and 130 miles from the Philippines.
“The exclusion zone bars other ships, including Chinese and Taiwanese vessels, from the area, and will allow the Philippine fishermen to operate without fear of harassment by the Chinese Coast Guard or other PRC paramilitary ships. That’s been a real problem for them.”
He paused for a moment. “It’s a minor economic hit for China, but a big boost for the Philippines, an important American ally in the region.”
The anchor asked, “Is there a lot of fishing around the Spratly Islands, where the second exclusion zone was declared?”
Anderson nodded. “Some, and also the possibility of oil or mineral deposits. They’ve never been properly explored or developed because China, the Philippines, and others have been squabbling over them for decades.
“Lately, China’s been expanding the islands in the Spratly archipelago, adding airstrips and radar stations in what the international community calls ‘disputed territory.’ Beijing is trying to claim squatter’s rights, but that only works if the other side, like the Philippines, is weaker.
“The US is guaranteeing that the Philippines will have full access to the resources in those two areas while shutting the Chinese completely out. It shows that America, which so far remained impartial in these territorial disputes, will now come down hard on the side of its allies. It also reminds China that the US Navy is still . . .”
The anchor held up a hand while she listened to her earpiece. “Dr. Anderson, my producer says the Chinese ambassador to the UN has just released an official statement. He’s sending it to me now.”
She turned to read the flat-screen display to one side. After a moment she reported, “It’s not very long. They condemn the ‘unlawful seizure,’ and so on, then say they will not be intimidated, and threaten ‘grave consequences.’”
Facing her guest, she asked, “What do you think that means, Doctor?”
“It means we’re playing on a different level now.”
4 September 2015, 9:00 a.m. local time
August 1st Building, Ministry of National Defense Compound
Beijing, People’s Republic of China
President Wen asked the question flatly. “How much more do we stand to lose?”
The foreign minister, already apologetic, answered, “I can’t say, Comrade Chairman. We didn’t believe the Americans would react that strongly, or quickly. My analysts are studying US official statements and other sources, trying to understand what they missed.”
“Maybe the US president has been reading Sun Tzu,” added Defense Minister Yu. “Our possessions in the South China Sea were vulnerable. They used them to send us a message.”
Wen responded, “A message, a reminder, or a threat?”
“That depends on how we wish to view it,” the defense minister answered. “But the Americans don’t want to fight us any more than we want to fight them.”
“But they are fully involved now, as you correctly predicted they would be. But with the fall of Pyongyang and the surrender of KPA units to ROK or US forces, the situation has changed, and not to our advantage.”
The defense minister reminded them all, “This isn’t about that capital or the Korean People’s Army; it’s about nuclear weapons in the former DPRK. We haven’t found any in the territory we’ve occupied—none. And we’ve heard nothing from the Americans or the South Koreans, so it is likely they haven’t found any either.”
“Comrade Chairman, our troops are near Dong-an and Yak-san, only ten kilometers from the Yongbyon nuclear facility. Our best chances of finding nuclear weapons is there. We must seize the facility before we even begin to consider a cease-fire.”
“Even if it means firing on South Korean forces, General?” asked Wen. “The intelligence reports suggest the South Koreans are now supporting the former KPA units, providing them with provisions and ammunition. What if our soldiers come in contact with ROK Army units? Are we now to engage them as well?”
“If we move quickly, that may not be necessary, Comrade Chairman,” answered the defense minister. “The advance of US and ROK army forces has slowed, due to the need to organize and supply former KPA units. If we get across the Chongchon River, and then stop, establishing a defensive line from the coastline through Anju to Tokchon, we maximize our chances of finding the nuclear weapons, while minimizing the possibility of an altercation between our forces and the Americans and their ROK ally.”
Wen frowned as he considered Yu’s suggestion. After a brief moment, he nodded slowly and said, “Unless we wish to change our goal, we must continue.”
Several CMC members shook their heads; the defense minister repeated strongly, “The security of China against a nuclear attack is paramount.”
The president stood. “Then that’s it.” He ordered the foreign minister, “We must make every effort to remind the world that we are doing this on behalf of all Asia. We will not rest until the Kim’s nuclear stockpile is found and destroyed.”
Chapter 17 - Juggernaut
4 September 2015, 1500 local time
Third Army Field Headquarters
Outside Taedong, North Korea
General Tae Seok-won and his battle staff were engulfed by a sea of ROK uniforms. The North Koreans wore camouflage fatigues, just like the other officers and soldiers at Sohn’s forward headquarters. To a civilian, they might have looked the same, but Tae knew that they stood out vividly. The two green colors were different, one darker, the other brighter, and the brown had a reddish tone that contrasted when he stood next to one of the South
erners. It had distracted Tae a little at first, marking him and his men as outsiders, but he was trying to rise above it. He hoped Sohn and the others could get used to it as well.
Sohn had placed his headquarters at Taedong, ten to fifteen miles west of the capital, because the highways were still intact. The South Korean general and his staff were meeting in an open-sided tent. Whether by accident or design, the map table they used faced away from Pyongyang. Tae knew that if he turned to the southeast, he could mark the city’s position by the gray cloud that hung over it. From their position on the city outskirts, he could see the highway, carrying their troops northwest.
The Battle of Pyongyang was over. Now the two armies had to adjust from fighting each other to working together to face the oncoming Chinese. The capital city’s highways had been torn up by fighting long before the South Korean army had arrived, and that battered network now had to support thousands of vehicles and ten times that many men, with their supplies. The first order of business was repositioning both armies along a new defensive line north of the city.
The first task Sohn’s engineers had been assigned, even before restoring electric power or repairing the water system in Pyongyang, was clearing the roads that led out of the city. Youth Hero Highway led west toward Taedong, while Sochon Street led north. Both avenues were completely choked with military traffic pulling out of the city, and movement was frustratingly low.
Everything capable of moving and fighting was being sent north to establish a new defensive position near Sukchon and Sunchon. By the time disparate ROK and KPA troops got there, they had to be ready to fight again, but this time on the same side. Tae and his officers found themselves sharing information with the Southerners that would have gotten them shot just a few weeks earlier: radio procedures, weapons and ammunition inventories, unit strengths. Tae also found he needed more and more resources from Sohn’s forces as additional KPA units declared their loyalty. Fuel and food were the biggest concern, of course, but they also needed artillery. Most of Tae’s had been destroyed in the fighting at Pyongyang.