By the time Hunter made it to the sand, he saw six forms lying in the wet, letting the small waves roll over them. He needed two more. He spotted Beth, and two more drag bags. Then Mohammad came out of the water. Just behind him with the fourth drag bag was Chief Chapman.
He looked to the right, then the left and saw more blobs on the sand. That would be Bravo. “Bravo, how many on the sand?”
“I’ve got eight, need one more,” Wade Bancroft said. “One drag bag short. Okay, here comes Dengler. We’re all accounted for, Cap.”
“Let’s move up the beach into that brush and trees and get ourselves set up.”
The eighteen hurried into the trees.
“We’ll take off our wet clothes and get into the soccer togs,” Hunter said. “Then dig out the dry Korean shirt and wear that over the tee shirt and your combat vest. Should keep us a little warmer. Let’s do it.”
The rain had eased up, and as they changed it stopped and the clouds blew away. A chilly wind kept coming on shore.
The men dressed quickly. Stuffing the wet Korean clothes in the drag bags. Beth turned her back and stripped off her Korean shirt and put on the tee shirt, then her combat vest and the shorts. She brought the wet clothes to the nearest drag bag, and picked up her MP-5. She had a personal radio as well as the rest and they had showed her how to use it.
Hunter finished dressing and roamed around the patch of woods checking on the others.
“Bancroft, your men in their soccer mode?”
“All set, wet stuff in the drags. Tee shirts, combat vests and the Korean shirts over it all. Ready to rumble.”
“Tran, take a hike due east and see what you can find. If it will work for us, go out four hundred and give me a call.”
“I’m gone, Cap,” the ear pieces reported.
“Squad formation, in a pair of ducks,” Hunter said. “Soc Ho, come up front with me. You’ll go out with Tran most of the time.”
The tall Korean came up grinning. He had the MP-5 in his hands. He had been delighted with the weapon on the range.
“We go soon?” he asked.
“Looking for the road over there, maybe out eight miles. Couldn’t tell by the map.”
“Come on down, Cap. Bring your friends. This isn’t marshland. It’s been drained and mostly rice in here looks like. Solid now, easy footing. Can’t see any highway yet. I’ll stay out a hundred.”
“Roger that. Let’s move folks,” he said to the mike. He turned. “Beth, you stay five yards behind me.” He used the mike again. Keep five yards this time, not ten. Five unless we run into some trouble. We don’t expect any. Be sure to bring the drag bags. Change off every half hour with another man.”
They moved ahead out of the brush and trees into the rice paddies with their foot high dikes to control the flooding. The rice had been harvested in these fields.
They hiked straight east for fifteen minutes, with Tran sending back frequent reports.
“I’ve got more trees and brush ahead near a small creek. Not sure what’s on the other side. No buildings. Let you know when I hit the trees.”
Another ten minutes and Tran came back on the radio. “Okay sports fans. We have a road. Not a highway, but a two lane black top road that isn’t much traveled. I’ve watched it now for about five minutes and no traffic. Could be just that time of night, about oh one hundred, or it’s not a popular route. Meet you here in the brush.”
Fifteen minutes later the troops relaxed in the heavy growth. Soc Ho and Tran walked down the road a ways and then came back.
“Soc Ho says the road is mostly used by farmers. Should be some going into market at Sinuiju. That’s the first town up here we figured about ten miles north.”
“So we wait for a likely truck?” Hunter asked.
“Ho says these will be small, pickups, maybe a small stake. We’ll need two of them to haul everyone.”
“So we get two. You and Ho are on the welcoming committee. Get something we can use all the way up to the target if you can.”
“They must have bus transportation along here,” Will Tanner said. “We could always hijack a bus and use it.”
Ho shook his head. “They miss the bus quick. Not work. Two trucks good. Two vans best.”
“Take a nap,” Hunter said. “Ho and I have first watch. Get some sleep, we just may need it.”
Beth looked at him. “Yeah, sack out. In combat we sleep whenever we can, because we never know when we’ll get the chance again.”
“Question. Why do they call you Cap?”
“The boss of any ship or boat is the captain. As platoon leader this is my boat. It’s short, and sure.”
She nodded. “Being navy I should know that. Thanks, Cap. I’m sacking out.”
Nothing stirred on the road until nearly 0430 when a rattletrap of an ancient pickup wheezed and rattled past at fifteen miles an hour. The headlights flickered on and off. It belched a steady stream of blue smoke out its tailpipe. Ho looked at Hunter and both shook their heads from their concealed position near the road.
It was almost 0500 when the next rig came. It looked like a new Nissan pickup, shiny bright with strong headlights. Hunter started to move, but Ho stopped him.
“Too new. Rich farmer, big family. He be missed quick.”
Hunter agreed and relaxed.
Ten minutes later headlights cut into the last few shadows of the night. The rig was several years old, but rolling along well. It was a large bodied pickup stacked with vegetables in crates. Ho nodded and jumped out into the road with the MP-5 leveled at the cab. The rig slowed, and then when its headlights picked up the weapon, it came to a stop.
Ho went up to the cab and talked calmly with the man, then motioned with the weapon and the small Korean man came out of the truck. He and Ho talked more, and then they came over to where the SEALs crouched.
“He’s good old man. Don’t hurt. Tie him up. He promise not to get loose for two days. By then we be far gone.”
Hunter watched the Korean farmer. “Will he do what he says?”
“Yes. Think so. Not real bright. Now afraid.”
“Ho, drive the truck off the road where we can unload it and check it out. How much gas?”
They took the Korean farmer twenty yards into the brush and tied his hands in front of him and his ankles together. The knots were not overly tight.
“Two days,” Tran said to the man in Korea. “Stay here for two days or your ancestors will haunt you for the rest of your life.” The old man shivered and nodded.
Back with the others, Walden shook his head. “I don’t like it, we should make sure.”
“We can’t,” Hunter said. “It should work out. If it has license plates, we’ll change them first chance we get. Let’s trust Ho on this one. Foster, Jefferson, go down there and help Ho unload the truck. We need one more.”
By the time the next potential transport came by, a half hour had passed and it was almost daylight. A small stake truck that had three goats tied in back came down the highway. Ho looked at Hunter who nodded. Ho stopped it the same way as before. This time there was an argument. Without warning a shot blasted into the quiet woodsy North Korean morning. Then a three round burst from the HP-5 sounded. Ho dragged the man out of the car. He was dead.
Nobody said a word. It was done, it had to be done. Ho drove the rig up beside the other one just off the road. He let the three goats go. They jumped down from the stake truck and scampered into the brush.
Chapman and Lawrence carried the dead Korean farmer into the brush away from where the tied man lay. They pushed him into a gully and carried limbs and leaves and branches off trees to cover him.
They all went down to the trucks. Ho took the stake truck and all of Alpha Squad climbed on board. They heaved four of the drag bags on board. Five men fit into the pickup body, and two from Bravo squad got in the stake. Will Tanner drove the pickup. He reported almost three quarters of a tank of gas. Ho showed him where the controls were and how the stick shift w
orked.
“Let’s take off our outside shirts and put them and our combat vests in the drag bags,” Hunter said into his shoulder mike. We’ve got to look like a soccer team. We’ll see how easy it is to get through this town coming up and then up the road a ways we’ll have our MRE’s.”
A small cheer went up.
Beth and Hunter rode in the cab with Ho.
“MRE’s I know what they are,” Beth said.
“Let’s roll. Tanner, stay about fifty yards behind us, so it doesn’t look like we’re a convoy until we have to be at a check point or a road block. Ho said there won’t be many up here. The area is not heavily fortified, and the border with China is a love feast. Moving out.”
The road continued northwest following the coast but eight or ten miles inland. They passed a few hills on the right and after twenty minutes they could see the town ahead. They had been traveling about forty miles an hour, which was fast enough for the quality of the road. Now they slowed a little and the road turned north toward the town.
“Tran, can you drive that pickup?” Hunter asked.
Tran in back of the pickup used the radio. “I can. Want me on the door side in case we get stopped?”
“Right. We’ll pull off up here and make the switch.”
Soon they were on the way again. A few houses along the road showed now. Some were farm houses with small plots on the hilly side. Then there were more houses and soon the highway hit the city street which was in better conditions.
“Road signs,” Ho said to his mike. “Tran, follow me. Close up. No lose me.”
There was some traffic now. Mostly going into the town. Hunter had no idea how big it would be. As they came up to it the town looked to be twelve maybe fifteen thousand people. A real metropolis for that part of North Korea.
“Stay up, Tran,” Ho said.
They saw people on the street. Some must be going to work. Many bicycles moving in waves. The highway was at the side of the main part of town. Hunter was glad about that. They were almost through the town and the road had returned to the two lanes of blacktop, when Ho pointed ahead.
“Check point. Two army trucks. Four soldiers.”
“Everybody remember your Korean for ‘yes’ and chant the name of the team,” Hunter said. “Move your shoulder mikes down under your tee shirt and out of sight. Here we go. Keep all of your weapons hidden. No shooting here or we’re all dead.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
They coasted toward the checkpoint which consisted of a large army truck parked crossways in the street and sidewalk, leaving only one lane on the far side. Two soldiers stood there with rifles slung waving down the truck. Ho brought it to a smooth stop within inches of the soldier who had moved to the side. He peered inside the cab and looked in back. Some of the men feigned sleep.
“Big load, where are you headed?” the soldier asked in Korean.
“Uiju. We have a soccer match set there for tomorrow. Want to get there early and get in some practice.”
The soldier harrumphed. “No practice needed for that bunch of losers. Couldn’t kick their way out of town.” He went to the back. “You men all soccer players?”
“Yes,” half of them shouted the Korean word for yes. The others pretended to wake up.
“What’s the name of your team?”
Half of them called out the Korean name on the back of their tee shirts. They turned around so he could see the logo printed there.
The soldier came back to the cab. “Take it easy out of town. Some roadwork up there about three kilometers.”
“Oh, the other half of our team is in the pickup back there. We couldn’t get a bus, so we had to go this way.”
The soldier looked behind them where Tran had brought up the pickup and now idled there waiting.
“Didn’t think you had a full team there. Good luck at Uiju. When you come back have a game with us. I play on the first team.”
Ho waved at him and drove ahead. Behind them Tran moved up and stopped, said a few words with the soldier who waved them on through.
Hunter lifted his hand from behind his leg. He held the pistol with the safety off and a round in the chamber. He relaxed.
“We made it through the first test,” Hunter said. “That soccer idea saved our skins today. Hope it works on up the road.”
The work on the highway five miles out of town was pathetic. Men and women slaved at filling pot holes in the black top. They used picks and shovels and a tamping down weight that pounded the dirt and rocks in place. There was no black top to seal it.
They drove round the workers and angled on up the road. It was about five more miles on to the smaller town of Uiju.
“No check point at next town,” Ho said.
“Are you guessing?” Beth asked.
“Yes. Guess.”
Two miles farther on they came around a curve in the road and Ho hit the brakes hard. Lying in the road were about twenty children of all ages from six or seven up to fifteen. They sat up when the truck stopped. The larger ones ran at the two trucks from each side of the road. They screamed at them, stopping a short way from the trucks. Soon both vehicles were surrounded by the children.
“They shout food, they want food,” Ho said.
“Where do they come from?” Hunter asked.
“We call them wandering children. Live by begging from town to town. Go far south in summer to stay warm.”
“How can they live that way?” Beth asked.
“Die. Many die.” Ho stood on the side of the stake truck and shouted at the children. In Korean he told them:
“We have no food. No food for ourselves. Go away. Let us pass.”
A moment later Hunter stood on the stake truck. He showed Ho a stack of Won notes.
“Can we give them money? Will they use it for food? It must take a lot to feed all of these. If we give them five hundred Won, would they let us past and hurry into town to buy food?”
“If they have leader.” Ho said. He spoke rapidly to the children again. Three of the tallest came forward. He scolded them in Korean and asked if they had money would they buy food.
He listened to the response. Hunter had opened the money belt he had around his waist and took out all of the small denomination bills he had. Then he added larger ones until he had five hundred Won notes. That was about two hundred and thirty US dollars. He held it out to Ho.
The big North Korean handed the money to the older children, making sure most of them got some. He warned them about feeding the small ones as well. There were big smiles and shouts of joy and waves from the children. Soon they left the road and walked south along the highway. None was left behind. Some of the older ones helped the small ones along the way.
They drove again. Ho told them that often parents died from disease or lack of food. The children went into the towns looking for something to eat. Often they were chased out into the country. Many of them starved to death. In the winter hundreds of them died from the cold.
Soon they came to the tiny town of Uiju. The guard had been right. If they had a soccer team it must be made up of most of the men in the town. It had about twenty houses and a few stores, Hunter decided. He wondered how the town survived. They powered through it on the highway, and saw only a few cars along the street and fewer people.
Beth frowned. “This first bomb. How do we know where to look for it?”
“Dr, Sung told us. It’s in an old coal mine. An abandoned coal mine. They put it underground so there would be no chance that it could be destroyed by South Korea or U.S. aircraft.”
“And we know where the mine is?”
“Yes,” Hunter said. “We have directions. Dr. Sung was there when it was hidden away.”
Less than five miles out of Uiju Ho called out.
“Trouble ahead. Army trucks.”
Two small army vehicles and one six by type truck had pulled off the road at a level spot and evidently the troops were having a meal.
“Wave at them,”
Ho said in his mike. About twenty North Korean soldiers looked at the two trucks as they went by. The SEALs waved at them and a few waved back. Nothing happened for half a minute. Then one of the smaller rigs pulled out onto the highway and raced after them. It caught them easily and pulled alongside and motioned to Ho to turn off the road and stop on the shoulder. Ho did and Tran stopped behind him. Hunter’s hand vanished below his leg and lifted his MP-5 where he could get it quickly.
Ho stayed in the truck. The jeep had parked just in front of the stake truck so it couldn’t move. A soldier with braid on his shoulders came out of the passenger side of the rig. He marched up to Ho’s window and stared at him hard. Then in Korean he asked:
“Who are you and where are so many men going?”
“We’re the soccer team touring the north country. We played in Sinuiju yesterday, but there was no team back there in Uiju, so we’re going to the next town. Do you play on an army team?”
“No, I don’t play. Some of my men do. We could have a game right here if it were level enough. What’s the name of your team?”
“We’re the Lancers. So far we are ten wins and only one loss on this road trip. How far to the next town? My team is getting hungry and we didn’t bring much food.”
“We’re at the end of our patrol or we could feed you. We’ve used up the last of our rations. The next town is Chongson-Abdongiayu. They do have a town team. Good luck on your tour.” The officer saluted, did a snappy about face and marched to his jeep which wheeled around in a U turn and headed back to his troops.
“Soccer is alive and well in North Korea,” Hunter said. “I just hope we don’t get trapped into playing a game.”
“That be bad,” Ho said.
“MRE’s you mentioned,” Beth said.
“Yeah, right.” Hunter turned and spoke into his shoulder mike he had put back in place. “Dig out the MRE’s from the drag bags. We’ll eat on the run. You copy Bancroft?”
“Copy that. We’re on it.”
North Korean Blowup Page 10