“Will do,” said Jim.
Ten minutes can seem like a long or short time depending on what you’re up to. Waiting for the dentist, it’s way too short. One – nil up for your team in the final of the Champions League, it’s way too long. Being chased by North Korean soldiers before the next checkpoint, it seemed way too long. For Ethel it was too long. In reality, it was all the same.
“Victor, don’t slow, just go,” instructed JJ. The Scot had decided that their two vehicle convoy was simply going to crash through the Hwangu checkpoint. Normally, that checkpoint was lightly guarded, less than a handful of soldiers. The incident at Haeju dock probably meant that no extra military could be re-deployed to Hwangu. It was a gamble, but Ethel’s condition meant there could be no pussyfooting around. Victor did as directed. He put the pedal to the metal and the Sprinter van was bearing down on the checkpoint. The jeep was struggling to keep up and Lily was virtually standing on the accelerator so the gap to the van was not widening. To the rear, there was no sign of chasing Chinese jeeps.
The barrier at the Hwangu checkpoint was down and in place. There was one jeep and three guards behind it. No watchtower and no extra billeted soldiers. Victor was visibly apprehensive. JJ could see that.
“Victor, it’s a straight run,” said JJ, hoping to steady the young safe cracker’s nerves. “Stay low. You’ll break the barrier no problem, given the weight of this van, and you’ll knock their toy jeep out of the way easily.”
Victor was reassured. He didn’t lift. The soldiers were firing, zip, zip, crash. Two bullets into the windscreen, no human injuries. Crash went the barrier, the soldiers’ jeep moved at least ten yards and toppled. The soldiers were down, dazed but alive. Victor looked up. No more obstacles on the road ahead. JJ checked Lily’s jeep from the interior mirror. Seemed OK. They were through and clear, no more checkpoints till Kaesŏng, a mere twenty to twenty-five miles away. They were twenty minutes’ drive away from the border crossing but only fifteen minutes before the security detail at the central bank was changed and the alarm raised. This was going to be tight.
“Jim,” said the Scot into his walkie-talkie. “Everybody OK?”
“We are,” replied Jim. “We didn’t take a shot this time. You guys OK?”
“We’re fine. Victor was wicked,” replied JJ using the modern meaning of the word, to indicate not wicked, but excellent.
The convoy settled back into its high speed rhythm. JJ continued to chat to Jim for a few minutes, enquiring after Ethel and checking that his CIA friend knew what to do at the Kaesŏng crossing. Ethel was drifting in and out of consciousness. She needed hospitalised ASAP. As they hurtled towards the border, Jim was on his secure cell phone arranging for his team at PAU Travel to get an ambulance with paramedics to be in situ for their arrival. It would be done. Ethel would go to the main hospital in Seoul, world renowned, and with a staff eminently capable of dealing with gunshot wounds.
* * *
The Korean People’s Air Force has an estimated attack helicopter force of between one and two hundred, ranging from the lightweight modified MD-500 to the heavyweight troop transporting gunship, the Mi-24. At least half of these are kitted out as training aircraft, and are located at several bases in the North. The nearest KPA helicopter base to JJ’s convoy was located in Taetan County, not far from Hwangu. This base, today, had two operational Mi-2 light transport and light combat helicopters and one modified MD-500. The rest of the helicopters were either out of commission, being serviced or at Haeju docks. The helicopter crew at the Taetan base and on call, belonged to one of the modified MD-500s. This was an old helicopter, from the 1980s, ironically manufactured in South Korea and built in the USA. Initially, it had no attack capabilities, but had been modified by the KPA’s aeronautical engineers to be a lightweight gunship. Maximum crew of five, with three in the one that was whirring overhead JJ’s convoy.
Before expiring for good, the DPRK soldier Ethel had shot, managed to raise the alarm. The call for help was relayed to the Hwangu checkpoint, the secret police and the closest air base, which was at Taetan. Secret police were all over Haeju docks, or helping to interrogate Vice Admiral Goh and Commodore Park, now in detention in the capital. JJ and team were only ten minutes from the border crossing. The secret police could not get to them in time and the Hwangu checkpoint had been gate-crashed and rendered ineffective. There was a risk that one of the KPA’s MiG jet fighters would be scrambled to hunt down the van. The nearest MiG base was at Hwangu, but many of the operational fighter jets stationed there were out submarine hunting. It was close, but JJ’s team may just have enough time. The helicopter overhead may be the DPRK’s last realistic chance to kill or capture the fleeing foreigners before they reached the border crossing.
“Jim, do you hear the chopper?” asked JJ.
“Yes. Can’t see it yet but it must be near.”
“There’s no street or road lights here and there won’t be any until Kaesŏng. Kill your jeep’s lights and drive off the main road behind a tree or something. We’ll do the same. We don’t have any anti-aircraft weapons in the van. Check with Lily and the Iceman, they may have taken something heavy with them.”
“OK, JJ, I’m on it,” said Jim. With that both vehicles drove off the main road. It was morning, but it was a bleak, wet day, it may as well have been early evening from a visual acuity perspective. Both van and jeep were dark in colour, the attack helicopter may not spot them. No such luck.
“Lily, have you got anything to shoot a helicopter?” asked Jim.
“Not really,” replied Kim Min-Jun. “I’ve got my sniper’s rifle but that’s a bit hit and miss when it comes to downing choppers.”
The Iceman was still in the back of the jeep, tending to Ethel, who had now lapsed fully into unconsciousness.
“Iceman, got anything to zap a fucking chopper, we could be under attack in a minute?” asked Bradbury, with increasing alarm.
“Not anything reliable, Jim, but I brought along my grenade launcher just in case,” replied Kim Chun-So. The M203 grenade launcher presently being extracted from the Iceman’s kit bag was an oldie but goldie. First designed in the late 60s the launch device could be attached to a US M4 Carbine, which was the Iceman’s second rifle of choice. It was a single shot weapon which could launch five to seven of its grenades per minute. Its most effective distance was about 150 metres with a maximum range of 400 metres. It was the best option the team had.
Jim told Lily and the Iceman to get out of the jeep with their weapons and to keep their eyes peeled for the helicopter. They did not need to wait long. The KPA’s MD-500 came swooping out of the low lying clouds. It had spotted the van first and started to pepper it with shots from its gun, floor mounted and operated by one of the KPA’s airmen. JJ and Victor had already got out of the van and were hunkered down underneath a tree which was behind the offside of the van. JJ’s weapons would be useless to defend this attack, and Victor had his hands over his head, as if that would do much good if the airman got his eye in.
There wasn’t much to an MD-500 but that was a double-edged sword. Its weapons were dated and lightweight but it was a small helicopter and a bit zippy, with a maximum speed of 175mph, difficult to hit. Lily had let loose a couple of rounds from his high-powered sniper’s rifle but with no apparent results.
The KPA chopper was still focussed on the van. It came around for round two and the van’s exterior had a few more ventilation holes in it. Fortunately, all eight tyres were intact and inflated. The attack helicopter did not make a third foray. The Iceman was on his game. The first launched grenade took out the chopper’s gunman and the second one the rotor. The MD-500 burst into flames and ended up in a field a few hundred yards from the team. JJ and Victor got back in the van, this time JJ took the wheel. Jim had stayed in the jeep, protecting Ethel, and Lily and the Iceman got back in and stowed their weapons. There was no sign of pursuing Chinese jeeps from Songnim. They had given up the chase at Hwangu. Ten minutes to the border cro
ssing, no time to lose.
It was still raining, with the preponderance of dark, grey low-lying cloud suggesting that there would be no let-up in the immediate future. The crossing would not be busy at this time of day. Most of the workers and transporters coming from South to North were still to pass later in the morning and those that were returning would not do so until the evening. This was an impossible crossing to storm. There were one hundred metres or so of black and yellow metal barriers before the actual border itself. These were intended to slow down approaching vehicles. There were armed soldiers on side walls just in case they didn’t and more soldiers in little security glass-fronted boxes. The border military knew they may need to apprehend or kill some fugitives from justice, travelling in a big van and a jeep. JJ had anticipated as much and his plan for this stage of their escape was now in play.
Lily drove up to the side of the van and both vehicles proceeded at around 5mph towards the main crossing. The side wall DPRK guards had their weapons trained on the vehicles but did not fire. JJ had his right arm out of the van’s window in a half gesture of surrender. Victor did the same with his left arm. Lily in the jeep adjacent followed suit. About ten yards from the line that separated North and South Korea, JJ stopped his van and Lily brought his jeep to a halt as well. JJ and Victor got out with their hands held aloft, showing clearly to the guards that they were not carrying weapons. Lily did the same. Two guards approached the van, rifles loaded and extended. They gestured to JJ and Victor to get on their knees. They did as ordered. Two further guards approached Lily. With hands aloft and still standing he began a conversation with the soldiers. At rifle point, Lily led the guards to the back of the jeep. He opened the door. The guards espied a huge pile of cash, and an unconscious woman. They also saw the barrels of Jim’s SIG Sauer and the Iceman’s rifle. Team PAU Travel had the drop on the guards. Lily kept talking. The DPRK border guards shouted for their colleagues guarding JJ and Victor to join them. As they turned behind the van and looked into the jeep, JJ took out his gun from the rear of his pants and had his Glock 17 nestling against the small of one of the guard’s backs. Victor had his right forefinger nudging the back of the other guard. He shrugged at JJ, he had left his gun in his kit bag. The side wall guards could not make out what was going on. The MiG-29 that was flying overhead spotted that the fugitives seemed to be in the hands of the border guards so did not intervene. Lily continued to speak. Three of the four guards nodded and the fourth one just listened.
“JJ, it’s OK for you to get back in the van. Victor get in the driver’s side of the jeep and both of you drive at walking pace to the barrier. It will be up when you get there. I’ll continue to walk behind the jeep with my new friends here,” said Lily.
JJ and Victor did as asked. The van and the jeep began to move very slowly. Lily and the four soldiers walked behind the jeep, whose rear door was still open. The guards had lowered their rifles but the Iceman and Jim Bradbury still had them solidly in their gun sights. As they crossed the border, van, jeep, guards and Lily kept going. While they would need to cross properly into South Korea in a few minutes, they were out of the jurisdiction of the DPRK. The van and jeep stopped. The guards put their rifles on the ground. Jim and the Iceman lowered their weapons but kept a hold of them.
JJ and Victor got out of the van and went to the rear of the jeep. The two of them and Lily handed each guard a wad of won. As part of the negotiation led by Lily, each guard received a packet of US$100 bills as well. They would now cross into South Korea together. Jim’s colleagues at PAU, as well as waiting with an ambulance for Ethel also had cars available to take the now defecting North Korean military guards to the CIA offices in Seoul. They would be processed and allowed to stay after a comprehensive de-brief. The listening guard was the only one with close family in the North. Lily promised that he would arrange for them to be taken to a safe house in a rural area. Deep cover Kwon would then work his magic to get them across the border at a later date. At least 25,000 North Koreans had defected to the South, now there were four more.
Ethel may be unconscious in the back of a dilapidated, copycat North Korean jeep, but it was her idea to grease the palms of the willing that had seen them safely across the border. Top girl, thought JJ with deep feeling and the hint of a tear in his grey-green eyes.
9: THE GOAT LOCKER
“Where’s the gold?” asked Ethel, weak but alive.
“It’s in the van in one of Jim’s locked up garages. The van’s being re-painted and fixed up. A bit like yourself!” replied JJ, so glad that Ethel had survived and was recuperating on schedule. Ethel was in a private room at the Seoul National University Hospital (SNUH). After the border crossing, the paramedics and two CIA officers from PAU Travel had taken her straight there. She had an emergency operation on her shoulder, the bullet removed and a blood transfusion given. SNUH was the oldest and most respected hospital in Seoul with a busy and effective emergency department. After surgery she was transferred to the private room. Jim Bradbury had sorted out the paperwork and calmed down the local police. As KLO, he had done them a few favours in the past, now it was time to call in one of them. Two of the PAU Travel office’s operatives were standing guard at Ethel’s door. Probably not necessary, thought JJ and Jim, but just in case any North Korean undercover types or all too nosey paparazzi were floating about, it seemed reasonable to take the precaution.
“I don’t remember much, JJ, after shooting that guard at Songnim. Is everybody OK?” asked Ethel, struggling to get comfortable with her gammy shoulder and multitude of tubes attached to her.
“Everybody’s fine,” replied JJ with a smile. “A few cuts and bruises, and Jim’s got a gowping throat where one of the soldiers tried to strangle him, the way he tells it.”
“Victor?” asked Ethel, needing to know some more detail about her CI and mission ward.
“Victor’s great, Ginger,” said JJ. “He’s knackered in body, mind and soul but he was brilliant. He was here until about an hour ago. You were asleep. I sent him to his hotel so he could just conk out.” Ethel nodded weakly, she could be drifting in and out of complete consciousness for a while due to the meds she was on and the trauma her body had experienced.
“How did we get through the border crossing at Kaesŏng, was there another firefight?”
“It’s involved. I don’t want to wear you out with all the details. Suffice to say that it was your idea to bribe the guards that got us across. You were absolutely fabulous Ginger, so rest and recover,” encouraged JJ. “You’re going to have to stay here a while. Your shoulder is a bit of a mess and although the doctors expect a near full recovery it will take time, rest, physio, the whole works. Victor is going to stay with you, here in Seoul, until you can travel back to London in comfort. He doesn’t want to see a safe for a while.”
“He’s a good boy,” said Ethel, not in the frame of mind to argue or physically ready for a long conversation.
“I’ll square things with your people in the force and your husband. You can call them from here but I’ll go see them anyway,” said JJ.
“Thanks,” replied Ethel.
“I’ll need to get back to London, sharpish, Ginger,” continued JJ, desperate to see Cyrus and needing to get the rest of the mission back on track.
“I know, JJ, I hope it turns out as planned.”
“It probably won’t Ginger but I’ll give it a go. In case I forget to tell you, or you wake up one morning wondering why you’ve got a hole in your shoulder, when I return to London I’ll get the money transferred to your offshore account.”
“£250,000?” interrupted Ethel, clearly her brain didn’t have a hole in it.
“More like a few million. You can thank Victor for that too since he was the one whose idea it was to purloin some cash,” replied JJ.
“Oooh…” said Ethel enthusiastically. “Maybe I can afford triplets!” They both laughed. It was more painful for one of them, as was the gentle hug that JJ gave Ethel.
JJ had a lot on his mind, but as he left Ethel’s room, he turned, waved and said, “See you soon, top girl.”
JJ left the hospital and got in a cab for PAU Travel in Gangnam. The journey would not take long, maybe twenty minutes. Enough time to get his priorities in order, he thought. First, was a call to Cyrus and Gil. He hadn’t been in touch for a couple of days and they would be worried about him as he was about them. Second, he needed to call the shit faced asshole known as Neil Robson. The plan had been revised, no petrol tankers with liquid gold in them so Robson was going to need to organise alternative air transport to get van, gold and cash back to the UK. Then he’d need to phone Fathead, get him prepped for the complex task ahead of selling a van load of bullion and to check that he wasn’t being missed too much at MAM. Last but not least, JJ hoped that he’d see Carolyn at PAU Travel. They’d been estranged for a long time but the dinner they had before he went North had been good and, he hoped, began to re-establish a solid bond with his daughter.
* * *
“Commander,” said Garrison Whitton walking briskly to the conn.
“Gary,” responded O’Neill who looked up from the map that he and Evan Harris were studying, beginning to plot their route to Scotland.
“We have a problem, Sir,” said Whitton.
“What kind of problem, Gary?” responded the SEALs team leader.
“I think you’d better come with me Sir,” replied Whitton, barely waiting for his commander’s agreement before heading off. O’Neill followed the young medic a few seconds behind.
“We found him, Sir, a stowaway, in the goat locker,” said Whitton, pointing to a small oriental fellow in the uniform of a Korean People’s Navy seaman. He currently seemed to be a little taller as Billy Smith had him hoisted by his shirt front against one of the submarine’s interior panels. O’Neill’s face was a picture, not a Van Gogh, more like one of those disturbed Francis Bacon efforts.
Darke Mission Page 35