Techno Ranger

by Thomas Sewell

  Time to listen to a few tunes while I kept busy with paperwork explaining my actions. I set the MP3 speakers to shuffle play.

  Looked forward to the change of pace when 1430 rolled around.

  Chapter Twenty-Three: Green-eyed Monsters

  Lieutenant Kwon Chol slid open Meon's office door.

  A stranger, another spec ops lieutenant, leaned up against Meon's desk, chatting with the minister.

  Kwon stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Meon would want to maintain operational security.

  At least the office was comfortable, rather than overbearingly humid. Must've fixed the steam radiator over the weekend.

  A miracle by the notoriously inefficient service staff.

  Kwon stiffened to attention. Saluted. "Reporting as ordered, Deputy Minister."

  First time he'd seen Meon after his return through the tunnel. He'd collapsed in the mud after dragging the data storage across the DMZ on carts. Been just lucid enough to free the border guards, instruct them to wake him when their supervisor arrived in a truck for shift change, and then curl up and fall asleep.

  Now, having filed a verbal report using the border guard supervisor's radio, he was more than a little worried how Meon would react to his mission results.

  He'd gotten the data out, hadn't he? Surely, that would be enough.

  Meon had let him rest and clean-up over the weekend, so he must not be in a rush to have him executed or sent to the camps.

  Kwon trusted it would all work out for the best.

  While Kwon held his salute, Meon actually stood up from behind his desk and rushed over to push his saluting arm down.

  Meon leaned back holding both of Kwon's arms. Stared at him. "Kwon Chol! I'm so glad you made it out alive, unlike the rest of your team."

  Kwon relaxed a little, "Is it confirmed? Are they all dead?"

  "We have no word of the Imperialists taking any prisoners. It's as if the incident never happened. They are likely ashamed of their blood-thirstiness in killing true Koreans. No hope your team survived, I'm sorry."

  Kwon hung his head. "They can't be gone. Were level 10,000 guys. The best. My family. I depended on them. I, I don't believe it. Not really."

  "Hard to accept, but they are martyrs for the people." Meon paused and took a long breath. "Let me introduce you to your new family. Have you met Lieutenant Pahk Geon? With the loss of your team, I'm assigning you together for your next task."

  No return to Pyongyang? No leave?

  Must be an urgent mission.

  Kwon looked over Pahk. Tall, probably 5'7". Thin, with sinewy muscles. Probably fine, but no Sergeant Stro. "No, we've never met before." Kwon gave a strictly minimally respectful head tilt. "No one can replace Goshawk team, though."

  Pahk nodded back once, his chin about two inches higher than Kwon had held his, then looked Kwon directly in the eyes. "We're not here to replace them. I've lost men before. We're here to do a job. To maintain their legacy. To ensure their lives weren't wasted by their attempt to destroy the enemy's lab. I'm sure your assistance to my team will do much to further our mission."

  Kwon leaned back at the intense stare.

  Did they mean to replace him so easily? Replace his men?

  He turned to Meon. "I'm sorry Uncle, my ears may have misheard. Will Lieutenant Pahk not be reporting to me? This has been my mission. My team made the ultimate sacrifice to complete it. I brought the required data back to you, personally dragged it under the DMZ. I'm most familiar with the required mission parameters, despite any seniority Lieutenant Pahk may have."

  Meon hesitated, then nodded. "I trust you implicitly, nephew." He faced Pahk. "Lieutenant, what are your thoughts on the matter?"

  Pahk's eyes widened when he heard the minister refer to me as his nephew, even though we weren't truly blood relations. "I will defer to your wishes, General Meon, but Lieutenant Kwon isn't familiar with my men and has been through such a strain, I wouldn't want to throw him into a new command so soon after losing his last one."

  Did this guy think his men were throwaway conscripts to be replaced, just like that?

  That his hard-won experience could be replaced by the next team leader in line?

  He had nerve!

  Kwon settled his breathing. Stro would be proud of him for not taking the guy's head off, "Uncle, I mean, Minister Meon, of course you'll make the final decision of who you believe you can trust the most."

  Trust was the ultimate requirement in the True Korea. Top that!

  Meon sat back down at his desk, causing the colored phones to jangle on their hooks.

  He nodded in agreement. "Pahk, you're familiar with your men and will continue to lead them, but Kwon raises good points. He'll be in overall charge of the mission. You'll report to him and place your team at his disposal. I'll communicate my orders through him. I expect that a fine, loyal officer like you will have no issues obeying them."

  Pahk barely failed to control a frown before nodding to Meon respectfully. He'd obviously become soft, living in the People's Army as a member of the special forces, not needing to control his expressions as much. "As you command, sir."

  "Good. Knew I could count on you two to work together harmoniously to advance Supreme Leader's plans against the Imperialists. Let me show you what we're doing with the data Kwon brought back and how your team fits in."

  Kwon knew his team's sacrifice would be worth it.

  * * *

  "Bring On the Dancing Horses" by Echo & the Bunnymen poured forth from my portable MP3 speakers. Best song and group title combination ever.

  1430 in the ugly conference room came faster than I'd expected.

  Focusing on the paperwork spread across the side of the green table got my mind off my shoulder. I flexed it a little. Felt like the painkillers had kicked in.

  No more shooting pains, anyway.

  Sergeant Lee arrived before the others. Caught me typing to the synth-pop beat. "How come you always play that old crap, sir?"

  I turned off the blasting music.

  "Ancient pop is more complicated, but that's not why. Prefer upbeat music, but that's just my natural optimism, not why I love it. Can lose myself in a lyrical story, but better stories exist.

  "Sung this music over and over through ruck marches, but that's not why I listen.

  "No, none of that.

  "My dad left me his CD collection. Used to sing along when he played them.

  "When I listen to 'that old crap', he's back here with me. Barely remember my parents, but I had a family once.

  "That's why I play oldies. My dad's music reminds me of him."

  The lab's appointed representative arrived just in time to catch the end of my speech to Lee. Doctor Yang Hyo-jin.

  Guess she appointed herself to come to the conference.

  I involuntarily grinned at her arrival.

  She tried not to smile back, but I think I infected her, because she finally couldn't resist.

  We'd formed a kind of combat bond, working through danger in the lab together.

  She half-nodded to Lee to show respect, then sat across from me. Tried to hide her smile by putting her head down and staring at her tablet.

  Michelle clacked in last.

  Took the folding chair at the head of the table, closest to the door, opposite Lee. "Thought this was an intelligence conference? To discuss the strategic options to minimize the data theft from the lab?"

  Reserved, like always.

  I put up a hand to slow her down before she really got going where I thought she might be going. "It is. Luckily, Doctor Yang could make time in her schedule to meet with us and outline the contents of the lab's data. Tell us how the North might benefit from it."

  Michelle looked at Hyo-jin and cocked her head a little. "By all means, let Doctor Yang brief us on the threat caused by the traitor at her lab."

  I sighed. This should be fun. "Doctor Yang?"

  "Please, you may call me Hyo-jin." She tapped her tablet a few times.
"I've sent the summary of captured data my team spent the weekend working up. You'll see the two most sensitive areas concern my research on nuclear detection materials and one of my scientist's data analyzing the materials used in tactical nuclear weapons. I believe these programs were the infiltrators' primary targets."

  Michelle leaned forward. "Isn't it premature to render that judgment? We've just begun our review."

  I took off my glasses and rubbed my eyes, then rubbed my forehead. "What specific threats does the North's knowledge of these two areas pose?"

  "It's all in the notes I've sent you." She set her tablet down to speak from memory. "First, my detection research is what will ultimately enable us to prevent terrorists from smuggling tactical nuclear weapons into populated areas. It enables detection at much longer ranges than is currently possible. I hope you can see why the North would be interested in that, if only to protect their own weapons research from detection and destruction via a surprise attack."

  Michelle jumped in, "And second, it's well known"—she stared at Hyo-jin—"in the intelligence community,"—she looked at me—"the DPRK has been working on converting a Soviet trashcan nuke. That would fall into both areas of concern, I believe."

  Hyo-jin's voice stayed unusually level. "Yes, the data will allow them to advance their research tremendously."

  Replacing my glasses on my face, I tried again. "Which is the critical component? What can't they do without?"

  "The reflector," Hyo-jin said. "It all keys around that. With the right reflector, the fissionable material will be amplified and can produce a weapon with yields of 20-250 kilotons, much like the American Mk-54 SADM the-"

  "What she means is," Michelle said, "with an inferior reflector, they might manage a tenth of a kiloton, hardly enough to destroy a large building. Without a good reflector, they also must build each bomb with way more fissionable material, making them weigh too much to transport conveniently on a man's back or through one of their infiltration tunnels. It's really the reflector we need to focus on."

  "I am perfectly capable of explaining what I mean to Lieutenant Harper. He and I communicated quite well together recently while defending our lab from North Korean special operatives. Operatives who I estimate probably attempted to steal enough materials and information on creating advanced alloys to enable them to design a new reflector. To produce hundreds of barrel-sized nuclear weapons based on the Soviet model they've got."

  "I'm sure you and Sam have quite the cozy relationship, but we don't have all day to figure out how to stop them. Duplicating this bomb they've purchased threatens your whole country."

  "Yes, my country. I am well aware of what is at stake, here. Perhaps we should appeal to Beijing to intervene with the DPRK government."

  Michelle's eyes flashed. She took a breath and then slowly shook her head. "Beijing doesn't want to destabilize the DPRK."

  I smiled. Adopted a cheerful tone, "I have the gist of the issue. To ensure North Korea doesn't start cloning this Soviet backpack bomb they've gotten an example of and using it against South Korea and the United States, not to mention selling it to the middle-east, infiltrating it into Europe, and generally giving the world a loose terrorist dream weapon, we just need to keep them from using the data they've stolen."

  Deliberately, I turned away from the two women, "Sergeant, any thoughts?"

  Lee didn't look like he wanted to jump in, but now everyone stared at him, wondering whose side he'd take, "Sir, the Soviets never had many of these things. They made them in a more primitive era. Kept 'em pretty tightly controlled. Decades ago, they knew as the only hostile nuclear power, they'd get the blame even if they smuggled one into an American port. Now?"

  He thought for a second. "Now, if the North comes up with a mass producible advanced version, we can expect to lose at least Seoul, NY City, D.C., San Diego, Tel Aviv, Paris, London, Berlin… anywhere a tango has an interest in taking out; one with enough hard currency to pay the North Korean dictators, that is."

  Michelle leaned back in her chair, as if the reality of the threat just hit her. Started playing with her shell necklace. "Realpolitik. The United States would have no choice but to lift sanctions and leave the Korean peninsula in exchange for controlled access to prevent sales or use of the weapons. The reunification of Korea under the DPRK."

  She looked from Lee to Hyo-jin. "Your government would have to choose between surrender and massive loss of life followed by conquest."

  Hyo-jin leaned forward. "Beijing has no interest in a unified and nuclear armed Korea on their border. We can appeal for their help via diplomatic channels."

  Lee nodded. "You have the right idea, but Beijing isn't to be trusted until this goes much farther. By the time their bureaucracy acts, it will be too late. Fear paralyzes the Chinese Communists. Fear of Americans as much as of a hostile neighboring Korea. No, we need to act now, to intervene before they have time to develop a new reflector for the Soviet weapon and refine and mass produce their own. How long will that process take, Doctor?"

  Hyo-jin stared at the ceiling and pondered. "Weeks, for sure, at least to understand the data they've stolen. Months, most likely, to get a prototype to test. Maybe as much as a year or two in building a factory to go to mass production. But once they disseminate the data to their scientists, that process will become inevitable. We need to find and destroy the data immediately."

  "We have a new contact within the DPRK. Highly placed, with access to the military activities across the DMZ. I can reach out. Perhaps he'll make a deal."

  Michelle smirked, like a cat ready to present a mouse. "That contact? This morning I came into possession of significant blackmail material which may make him much easier to persuade to our perspective. The sort of thing he won't want revealed, because the propaganda value would be huge. His superiors in the Party would execute him to save face. He'll know that. I'm sure we can come to an agreement."

  Lee shook his head. "Appreciate your help with this, but negotiations are best done by a Korean, not a foreign woman. He won't trust you."

  Not to mention, Michelle wasn't exactly renowned for her tactful negotiating skills. "You two can work that out between spies. If it pans out, great, but it can't be more than a backup plan. Not with what's on the line here. Michelle, need you to convince the CIA to arrange for the USS Michigan and an attached SEAL Delivery Vehicle. We need a physical penetration option."

  Michelle stared at me. "Wouldn't a request be better coming from you? Covert missions submarines carrying SEALs are under the command of Special Operations Command - Korea. Last time I checked, the 75th RRC is still part of SOCKOR here in Camp Kim."

  She wasn't thinking of our current strategic situation. "I'm not exactly the golden boy right now. They'll receive the request a lot better from your D.C. office than if it comes from a relieved lieutenant under the cloud of potential court martial."

  "That'll take days to arrange. Can probably get an agreement in the next 24 hours, if at all, but the request may take up to 72 hours to wend its way through the Capital bureaucracy and over to the Navy to make the sub available."

  "Then I suggest you get started right away. I want to go check out that tunnel they used to cross the DMZ. See if it could be useful. Maybe track the data a little farther. I'll call you later."

  Michelle started to speak, then smashed her lips together.

  She stood up. Kicked her metal folding chair backwards a few inches. "Sergeant Lee, come with me. I'll need to write up our proposed coordination with your port authorities for the sub. Doctor Yang, I suppose this concludes our meeting. We'll let you know if there is anything else we need from you about the data your lab failed to protect."

  Hyo-jin frowned for a moment, speechless at what even I recognized as a dismissal. Then she leaned back in her chair and smiled.

  Stretched her arms and legs out.

  "I have a few more technical details contained within the data I want to discuss with someone who can actually understand them.
Good luck with your paper pushing. I'll just relax here for a bit. You don't mind, do you Sam?"

  "It's okay, Michelle. You and Lee go ahead. I'll be fine, here."

  Michelle looked at her necklace for a moment. Gestured for Lee to follow and departed without another word, leaving me alone with Hyo-jin.

  Limited window of opportunity.

  To not be responsible for nuclear attacks, for massive civilian deaths, I needed to follow that data before the trail went cold.

  Chapter Twenty-Four: Going for It

  After that annoying CIA woman and her KCIA sidekick left, Doctor Yang Hyo-jin set her tablet back on the conference room table.

  Had no intention of leaving just yet.

  She had a read on the situation. Sam looked lost in thought.

  She smiled at him to get his attention. "Plan to use the sub to infiltrate the North with a platoon of your soldiers?"

  He shook his head. "Too slow. By the time the paperwork gets done, we'll have lost the data in North Korea."

  Put his hand under his firm chin. "No, I must see if I can locate the stolen drives as soon as possible, before they're taken too far from the border. Or find whoever is in charge of the mission over there. Convince him to tell me where they're going."

  Was he really contemplating going after the data on his own? She'd been impressed by the way he dealt with the intruders in the lab, even if he'd destroyed half the place, but he couldn't do everything by himself.

  "You have a team here, on this base, right?"

  "As Mother Bishop constantly reminds me, yeah."

  "They seem supportive. I couldn't have won a gold medal without my volleyball teammates on the court with me. Without the support of Hyundai Engineering making sure we had what we needed. You can rely on your Ranger team."

  She looked down at the ugly green table, afraid to stare at him anymore. "You can rely on me to support you."

  "It's a good thing you didn't totally rely on Captain Rhee at the lab. Sometimes, people who should support you let you down. Have to start by relying on yourself."

  "You've never let yourself down?"