Stro caught him staring at the man handing out corn tortillas filled with beef and kimchi. "No time for that type of pleasure right now. Will taste better once we get our fill of the other sort. After the mission."
Kwon nodded. "Of course."
Passing a metro subway station, Stro turned onto a side street. Drove around a curve between three-story businesses. The line of cars and minivans ahead of their truck stopped.
The vehicles didn't move for minutes.
Kwon didn't have much experience with non-military vehicles, but he'd never had to wait in a car before. Was there a military parade ahead that they hadn't briefed his team on?
The light in the sky began to fade.
Street-lights popped on, competing with neon shop windows. Dusk approached, "We need to reach the lab on time or we'll waste our agent's preparations." Kwon unbuckled the straps holding him into his seat. "I'll go find out why the traffic stopped."
Stro shook his head, but didn't argue.
Maybe wandering around alone in the enemy capital wasn't such a great idea? "I'll keep within sight of the truck. Be prepared to move if I can find us a way around this."
Kwon opened his passenger door. Stepped down to the concrete curb defining the edge of a wide sidewalk.
A burly man in black jeans and a puffy navy jacket detoured around Kwon on the sidewalk.
Kwon stared as he watched the sole of the man's shoes light up in a row of purple LEDs with each step. Gold chains rattled around his neck, one exhibiting a giant dollar sign.
The South's elite displayed their wealth brazenly.
This man should instead be ashamed. Even though the powerful in the North possessed a few human flaws, trying to do good for their families while surviving the Dominionists in this difficult world, at least they didn't exhibit this crass commercialism.
How could these people stand it? The American Imperialists obviously corrupted them decades ago.
Kwon followed the burly man's shoes through the crowd, taking advantage of his wake to clear a path for him.
At the next intersection a police officer in a dark blue overcoat with high visibility yellow wrists and ankles stood in the middle of the street. A two-door Hyundai luxury sedan had embedded it's crushed front bumper into the driver-side door of a similar car.
That explained the backup and the people standing around watching. The local pedestrians probably took pleasure in seeing the mighty car drivers with their own private vehicles brought low.
He looked back to gauge his distance from the truck. Stro peered forward at him from behind the wheel.
Too many cars stopped.
No room in the street to go forward.
The police officer in the intersection wasn't even directing traffic around the collision. One driver stood outside his vehicle, but the other just waved her hand from her window for attention; the setting sun reflected off a diamond ring on her third finger.
Trapped in her seat by the other car bending the frame inward around her.
The disrespect and inefficiency in the South!
These civilians surely didn't think they could interfere with a military unit? Maybe they didn't see the truck Stro drove.
Kwon stepped forward into the intersection. "Here. You." He pointed at the police officer talking to the woman stuck in the car, "We have military business. Clear these cars out of the way."
The police officer tucked his radio microphone onto its black plastic hook on his wide utility belt, next to a .38-caliber revolver. "I've called for a tow truck and the fire department. We'll have you out of here soon, ma'am. You're sure you're all right? You may be in shock and not feeling an injury yet. Can you move all of your arms and legs?"
Someone tapped Kwon on the shoulder.
He spun around into a crouch.
Another policeman confronted him. "Who are you?" The policeman made brushing motions with his hands towards the curb. "Unless you can help, stay back. We have an accident to investigate."
Kwon pointed back at the truck. "My platoon is on a critical and time sensitive mission. You must let us past."
"Identification?"
Why wasn't this policeman intimidated at dealing with a member of the military?
Wait, this was the South. Kwon felt his cheeks redden.
He hadn't fully considered the potential difference in cultures. What if this man was of a higher status in this situation, despite being a lowly police officer?
Kwon gave a respectful nod, hoping to cover any previous indiscretion. "Our paperwork is in the truck."
The police officer curtly returned his acknowledgment and pointed back to the curb. "Don't have time for this. Go wait with the others."
Kwon nodded. This place confused him. Better to retreat.
Couldn't get into an argument with the police in the enemy's capital. He walked back toward the truck along the curb, avoiding the crowd on the sidewalk.
The setting winter sun shone into his eyes. Not much more until dusk.
He'd really wanted to arrive early and have time to recon the target first.
Reaching the truck, Kwon noticed the other side of the road was mostly clear of traffic. Of course, the accident would stop vehicles traveling the other way as well.
He walked around the front of the truck to the driver's side. Only one stopped silver sedan to the left of the truck blocked them in, preventing a U-turn.
Kwon knocked on the window of the silver sedan.
Startled, the old man inside rolled it down. "Excuse me sir, but I must ask you to turn your car around here and travel the other way. This is the only method of freeing up my truck to do the same."
"But . . . that's illegal in the middle of the block."
He pointed at the rank tabs on his uniform shoulder. "It's fine. This is an exception. The traffic is stopped and this is an emergency military matter."
The old man nodded, clearly impressed. "I'm going."
Kwon stepped to the back of the silver car as it pulled farther into the street, turning around to head the other way. He blocked off the car behind it, standing at the bumper to ensure the space remained unoccupied.
A piercing police whistle warbled from the intersection with the crash.
Apparently this wasn't strictly legal, even in this situation.
Kwon gestured urgently for Stro to take advantage of the space he'd created.
The gears crunched as Stro downshifted. He cranked the giant truck tires around and got turned facing the sun instead.
Hopefully the police officers, staring into the sun, wouldn't be able to capture any identifying information about the truck which made an illegal turn-around half a block away.
Kwon ran around the front of the truck.
Climbed into the passenger's seat. "Go." Buckled himself in as the truck lurched forward.
Stro gunned the accelerator, swerving around the slowly driving old man whose silver car was the only obstacle ahead of them. "I have an alternate route we can use."
"I'm counting on it. No going back there now." He patted his breast pocket. Wouldn't embarrass his family further.
He'd mentally record these new sights and sounds and leave analysis for after they hit the lab.
* * *
Maintaining situational awareness requires either absolute focus on external events or at least remembering to pay attention to your surroundings.
A flight of Black Hawks or a VIP's private jet might've taken off at K-16 while I strode from my BOQ apartment to the Air Base gate to leave, but I didn't hear more than the low engine rumble in the background.
Somehow, I made it through the air base's exit turnstile. Walked back to Suseo subway station.
Oblivious to the sights and sounds of Seoul around me.
Pretty sure I swiped my green T-card to enter the station. Gate wouldn't have opened if I forgot.
There's a sense of being in the zone. A complete absorption. Perfect focus on the task at hand.
At first, I
only achieved that feeling while surfing.
Complex patterns flowed for me. Could see the point off the beach where each set of waves from the ocean combined with their reflections from shore produced the perfect place to wait.
Analyzed. Observed the shaped water.
Predicted when the next big wave must arrive.
Anticipated the coming break-point. Paddled furiously to hit it.
Stood to catch the thrust of the breaking wave against my surfboard. Achieved perfect balance on the wave's face.
Maintained harmony.
Couldn't lose momentum from shooting too far ahead. Wouldn't tumble to the ocean floor via the rushing barrel of chaos crashing down on me. Strung together moments of terror and majesty.
Awesome.
Learned to recognize that level of concentration. Encourage it in myself.
Dropped into the flow while escaping mundane life. Read. Lived in another universe of mental worlds.
Then focused competing in high school track and field.
Attacked by an older foster brother or three? Massive fight-or-flight adrenaline rush. Stayed calm and rational.
Excluded everything else from my mind.
Visualized the relationships between technical concepts in college.
Felt the exact moment to press the trigger of my rifle. Break the perfect shot.
Needed that pinpoint focus now. Needed to figure out how to crack a top secret materials lab by myself.
Prove the truth.
Break in without my Red Team members. No fallout could splash on them.
Gain illicit entrance. No help from the operators in the rest of the company. Schnier wouldn't understand.
On my own.
But not without resources.
Knew our report on the lab by heart. Worked on it for the last thirty days.
Seen ID badge pictures of the staff. Reviewed the guard schedules. Studied their procedures.
Read the technical manuals and security bulletins for their security systems. Analyzed tons of background information which didn't make it into the report.
Monitored their security.
An idea formed. I blinked. Sat on the crowded metro train at Suseo.
Ignored the Koreans ostensibly ignoring me.
South Koreans work long hours. A cultural thing, to be seen late at work.
Captain Rhee, the security chief who'd been so offended by my report, went out for dinner every evening. Checked back in at shift change to ensure the security team properly handed everything off to the night crew.
The same time the cleaning crew and the night shift of the administrative side of the lab arrived for work. After, he went for drinks with his cronies or to his home to sleep.
His expensive eating habits would be my entrée into the lab. Just needed to re-borrow a piece of CIA equipment first.
I could ride this wave.
Bluetooth earbud in place, I pressed Michelle's contact on my mobile phone. Her Facebook photo, automatically imported into my contacts list, displayed on the screen.
No headshot, just a postcardy snapshot of a forlorn coastline, thick storm clouds at sunset over a rocky promontory.
Clearly not wanting anyone to connect her name and image in any online databases. Facial recognition was everywhere these days.
"Michelle? It's Sam."
"Howzit going?"
"Been better. I'll explain later. Hate to put you on the spot, but can I borrow the Agency's portable RFID scanner again?" Could build one, but just shopping for the parts in an electronics store with my limited language skills would take more time than I had.
"Sure, Sam. Stop by and pick it up first thing Monday morning?"
"Thanks, dude. Assuming you're at your embassy office right now, can I just stop by instead? Only about twenty minutes away. It's urgent."
"Relaxing at home instead of haunting the office. Guess I can meet you there. Scanner's in my desk. In trouble?"
"Not as much as I'm likely to be in before the night is over. Does the Agency still run flights out of the country for refugees? You may need to save me a spot for later."
"What?"
"I'm kidding. Mostly." I considered how to explain. Maybe later. "See you in a few."
Chapter Ten: Spiking Paperwork
Doctor Yang Hyo-jin romped around to relive her volleyball career. She preferred the lab's offices between shifts, with no administrators around.
A ten-foot wide walkway through the admin spaces connected the main lobby to the mantrap guarding her team's cavernous experimental lab space and science offices.
In this Olympic gym-sized cubicle farm, those who could neither theorize nor engineer solutions slaved away on either side of the walkway.
Hyo-jin glided between cubicles.
Her lab coat flowed through the air with the speed of an Olympian goddess.
An itsy break room and three generous conference rooms overflowed one side of the bureaucratic space. Windows for more privileged denizens lined the opposite edge.
Everyone else made do with the potted Areca Palms and Chinese Evergreens scattered around, slowly turning carbon dioxide into oxygen.
The main security office controlled the lobby turnstiles; the guards only additional territory a camera room standing watch over the loading dock on the far side of the lab and warehouse zones.
She used her height and reach to shuffle paperwork directly over partition walls and onto the desks of the powers-that-be she owed forms and reports to.
The government wouldn't pay for the people and experiments she valued without the requisitions, signed purchase orders, justifications, and grant progress reports she littered the office with.
Wise in the way of the bureaucracy, she'd finished her paperwork earlier, but if she'd made her offerings to officialdom before the staff went home, she'd have had to stop, enter each cubicle, bow politely, make small talk, inquire after relatives, and then explain to each person one at a time what the papers contained, repeated a dozen times.
Waste of an entire day.
This way, as long as no one stayed late, and who besides obsessive scientists stayed late on a Friday night, she just cruised down the aisles, delivering each stack of paper as a spike over the net.
The main security office door popped open.
Rhee Yun-seok stalked backwards into the hallway near the turnstile. Faced the guards on duty inside the office. Issued a rat-a-tat-tat of instructions to his subordinates.
Not what she needed right now.
Hyo-jin ducked into the break room before Rhee looked around the office area.
No time for another confrontation.
She wanted to make a few copies in here, anyway. She placed a stack of papers onto the combination scanner/printer/copier's auto-feed. Punched the buttons to make duplicates.
Plenty of time for him to clear out of the building while she waited for the photocopies, then she could head back via the mantrap and through the experimental area to her office without further interruption.
Staying late at work involved many hazards.
* * *
Was I crazy to attempt to infiltrate a top secret lab by myself?
Lieutenant-walking-career-destruction?
I fought the after-work crowds. Smoothly evaded the ankle-biters. Changed subway lines at Wangsimni station's indoor mall.
Icy weather flooded the subway with people to dodge. I observed their patterns.
Traffic is like the flow of a wave.
Rode fifteen minutes to Gwanghwamun station. The central government and business district of Seoul.
Half a block south of the US Embassy.
Train slowed. I texted Michelle. "Almost there. Meet me outside with the scanner."
She'd head home again after we met, so I didn't want to waste time with embassy security.
Departed the station. Headed north.
A twenty-five foot bronze statue of ancient King Sejong on his throne reflected the dying sunlight.
<
br /> Demonstrators set up rows of chairs in the plaza across the street from the embassy.
The King raised a frozen benevolent hand to bless visitors, but one of his legs was as large as a normal Korean man. Pretty sure he wasn't built to original scale.
What did I have to lose?
Streets surrounded the embassy building on three sides: east, south and west. The remaining north side bordered the National Museum of Modern History.
If I had to break into the embassy to appropriate the RFID scanner, how would I get in? The embassy building's security precautions made it stand out like a shark fin from its neighbors.
They embedded three feet of Y-shaped anti-climb steel fencing in the top of each ten foot block wall. That controlled the inside edge of each sidewalk and the north side toward the museum.
Cameras hung every fifteen feet along the wall. Security officers watched the streets.
More than sufficient basic security to keep unruly foreigners out of the complex.
Williams could court martial me, instead of just relieving me. In taking initiative to fulfill my platoon's mission, I wasn't sure I'd technically be doing anything wrong.
My orders were clear, but vague enough a JAG prosecutor would have to argue I violated the spirit of them, not the letter of them.
In the western plaza, a line of not-exactly-protesters waved American and ROK blue-red ying-yang flags. Held up signs like "We Go Together", supportive of the ROK-US Alliance.
Unusually positive for a typical American embassy.
Walked up the wider western road. Stepped through a pedestrian gap in a line of three foot planter boxes at the curb.
Planters designed to keep a truck attack away from the main embassy wall. Didn't even bother planting flowers in them.
That side also had a double vehicle gate. Allowed legitimate traffic to flow in and out.
Contained the employee entrance, which wouldn't permit me.
Mirrors hanging over the gates gave security a view of the roof of any vehicle waiting to enter or exit.
The eastern street contained short portable trailers blocking the way. They turned the sidewalk between them and the wall into a tunnel.
The south side, a narrower street, coincidentally had police buses parked along the road's edge to block vehicle access. The only gap between buses was the pedestrian entrance. The portion of the wall reserved for walk-in visitors.
Techno Ranger Page 11