He stopped, took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes.
"I'm sorry that dude got away with the data. Too busy with the other guys we knew about. Don't you think I know, that if I'd been relying on the other Rangers, had them there earlier, he wouldn't have gotten away?"
Her stomach dropped, she wanted to offer him a hug, but wasn't sure it'd be appropriate here, even though they were alone.
"Sam, no. That's . . . not what I meant."
He put his glasses back on. "This is all my fault. My responsibility. I'll figure it out."
She tried again. "My point is that your Rangers will help you. Just not that Michelle woman. She's trouble. I can tell. All she cares about is how she looks. About her career. I've seen her type before."
Why did she add that part?
How unprofessional and embarrassing! Every so often, she spoke without thinking first.
"Michelle? I've known her since high school. She's okay, although she's why I'm over here in the first place. Not her fault, though. You don't understand, anyway. Can't. You had a family."
She leaned forward and stared into his eyes. For once, she had to look up a little to do that.
"What do you mean? Try me."
"Lost my mom and dad when I was a kid. The child welfare people assigned me plenty of temporary parents. Foster brothers. Kids in group homes. Like I told Bishop. Had dozens of families, and none at all."
"Doesn't mean you can't rely on the other Rangers. They can be your new family."
"My new assigned family, you mean? Most of them are good guys, but I'm tired of trying to prove myself to them. Thought the Rangers might be different, but I know how it goes."
"You're capable of working with others. Relied on me to help you at the lab."
"That was a unique situation. Had no choice. No other way to track the enemy. Besides, you're different."
Different? Different good or different bad? "How?"
"I don't know… Just are. Smart and logical, even in a crisis. I'd choose you to be on my team every time, if I could."
"Thank you. I, think." Oops. She was staring. She blushed. Looked down at the table again. How western of her.
Such forwardness would horrify her mother. Hopefully, he hadn't noticed. "You seem so sure of yourself; of how you can't get along with the others. How does it go, lieutenant? Tell me."
"I'm the screw-up who's up for court-martial. The surfer dude who only fits in out on the waves. Still, I won't let it stop me. Wouldn't have stopped my dad from taking care of his responsibilities. Took a car bomb to do that. I won't be responsible for another kid losing his parents. Not if I can help it."
She snuck another look at him. "How are you going to do that? You're hurt."
He stood up and flexed his left shoulder, then his arm, "This? I'll be fine. Been hurt worse."
Sam walked around the conference table to stand next to her, then lifted the side of his uniform jacket and the shirt underneath. "See this scar?"
Pointed at a round hole in his waist, a darker red than the surrounding skin. "From a stingray. Usually they stab you in the foot, but I was body-surfing. This one got me in the side. Painful for hours until I found an old surfer who knew to put hot water on to break down the poisons."
He was close. And tall. She felt a little sorry for him. Maybe she would be his girlfriend. She didn't know anyone else tall enough; a girl had to be practical about these things.
"You were very smart about how to recover our missing data from backups at the lab, but I think you're stupid as well."
She poked at his stingray scar. "You have a poison left in you. One you can't see. Just like that stingray wound. It's hurting more than you realize. You need more hot water. We can work on it together."
Hyo-jin tilted forward in her chair, chin up. Leaned toward him.
Maybe he would bend down and kiss her.
Instead, he let his shirt drop back to cover his wound.
Turned away.
Stared at the ceiling, as if she no longer existed, "I'm in plenty of hot water already. Don't worry, I'll rely on other people to help, but some things I just need to get done myself. Cut through the paperwork. Find that data."
She picked up her tablet from the table. Doctor Yang decided she definitely would not fall for this guy. Not chase after him. He was too focused on his mission.
Anyway, she needed to focus on her own work.
And her mother would never approve of dating an American soldier.
Even if he'd saved her life.
Destroyed half her lab.
She stood up beside the ugly green table. "I'll be working on my detector. Tell me if you need anything."
Sam wouldn't do anything too stupid, would he?
* * *
I'd never been able to read women, but sensed I'd missed something with Hyo-jin.
She'd left pretty abruptly. What'd I say wrong?
Cute enough wahine, brilliant also, but the last thing I needed was to let someone else tear out my heart.
The Rangers I worked with were rough enough on a dude.
After Hyo-jin left the conference room, I filled out the chit I'd need for live ammo and sent it to the office printer. After it printed, I wandered over to Bishop's desk next to the ratty red couch.
The door to the COs office hung open, his chair empty, so I had a little time alone with Bishop.
Needed a favor to figure out where they'd taken the stolen data. Bishop had been around Seoul long enough to either owe or be owed by a noncom in just about every unit.
"Hey Top, you know the MPs they sent over to guard the tunnel entrance?"
"Sure, El-Tee. What about them?"
"Do you have a contact there for me? Want to go over and check the tunnel out. See for myself how those tangos got our data across the DMZ."
He leaned back and rubbed the scar on his cheek. "CID will be all over that place like white on rice once they get the paperwork. Leave it to the professionals."
I fiddled with the quote plaque on his desk, "Said yourself the Major put me in charge of figuring out what to do about the missing data. Can't tell him I didn't even bother to go look myself."
"Sergeant in charge of the detail guarding our end of the tunnel owes me one. I'll make a call."
"Thanks, Top."
"With all due respect, sir, suggest you don't consider anything of a tactical nature in the future without going to Lieutenant Schnier to recruit a few shooters to tag along. I'm sure he'd be happy to help you out."
Must suspect I might do more than just check our end of the tunnel out.
Perceptive man, Sergeant Bishop.
Good thing that even when suspicious I was screwing up somehow, he was always willing to help an officer in need.
Just as long as he didn't add too much pressure. "I'll take that under advisement. Text me the details on that MP sergeant. Thanks again."
He nodded. "Roger."
Picked up his desk phone.
I figured if I requested help from Schnier, he'd just try to stop me.
After all, I was officially on light duty and wasn't exactly on the best terms with the shooters.
Walking toward the armory, I flexed my left arm.
With the painkillers, it seemed fine.
I stretched out my knee in the air and slid it forward a couple of times while holding my kneecap.
Still a little sore, but I'd be okay. I'd passed RASP, after all.
How hard could a little tunnel under the DMZ be?
Crossed Camp Kim to the Ammunition Supply Point (ASP) warehouse. They kept an empty 1,000 pound general purpose bomb out front on a concrete pedestal to mark their territory.
Gave the armorer from the 6th Ordnance Battalion running the ASP my chit to pull live equipment.
Wasn't worried, he was a spec-4 and I still had delegated authority on file for my platoon's ammo store to deal with emergencies, or our regular training schedule.
He handed over a full set of reloads and grenades to go on m
y plate carrier.
Wouldn't be caught out unarmed again by the bad guys.
My paperwork included a request for a dozen M86 Pursuit Deterrent Munitions (PDMs). Didn't weigh much, only a little over a pound each, but they'd come in handy if I needed to force pursuers on foot to tread cautiously.
Bishop texted me the name of the MP sergeant he'd notified I was coming.
Stopping by the company area, used for equipment prep, cleaning, and storage, I swung past my caged locker.
Grabbed my weapon, electronic toys, and other equipment of the non-explosive kind.
Stashed everything in my ruck, along with some green tape to secure it later for stealth.
Didn't want to walk around Seoul in full battle rattle, scaring the locals.
No, I'd be just another bored American soldier in uniform, taking the subway to the Dorasan Peace Park to play tourist, maybe go on a little hike across a nearby rice paddy farm.
Chapter Twenty-Five: Tunnel Rats
Kwon shook his head to clear it, but couldn't banish the idea something would set the device off and destroy them all. The truck suspension's random bounces as Pahk's senior sergeant drove it along the highway into the Kaeson Industrial area didn't help.
Pahk had squeezed into the middle of the bench seat filling the truck's cab.
Kwon rode by the window.
Pahk's other five men clung to life in the truck bed, held in by three horizontal wooden slats around the edges.
Kwon missed the softer ride of the truck he and Stro drove through Seoul.
He understood why Meon wanted the lab data moved to a secure location in Jiha Base. Too many people came and went from the main base, including rival departments and probably even Imperialist spies.
So they'd stacked the shelves of hard drives in the back, up against the cab.
Why did Meon also order Kwon and Pahk's team to transport the device strapped in the center of the truck bed to the base?
Away from the scientists who'd failed to duplicate it?
Their work stopped while Pahk's team stored the technology at Jiha.
Pahk's men obviously weren't happy.
They pressed up against the rim of the truck bed to avoid jostling, even touching, the round pack about the size of an oil barrel.
Clearly they knew it contained a tactical nuclear weapon, a so-called trashcan nuke, in reference to the small size.
Kwon thought the existence of the RA-115s only a rumor until they'd picked up the single device North Korea obtained from former Soviets.
The truck crossed a bridge over a small river. They entered Kaeson.
Pahk said something to his senior sergeant and pointed at a warehouse just off the highway to the right.
Kwon couldn't make out Pahk's words over the diesel engine's popping and clanging.
Could the apparatus actually detonate, or during their study, had the scientists disarmed it?
Surely they wouldn't give a live bomb to the protection of one special forces team with just an old military truck to haul it around?
They turned off the highway into the warehouse parking lot.
This warehouse received more than its share of military truck traffic. A careful observer might notice many trucks entered the warehouse, but none immediately returned.
In the Kaeson Industrial experiment, Dear Leader graciously gave peace a chance by allowing some foreign companies to pay his government for using North Korean labor. After their greed caused the experiment to fail, the People's Army posted signs to warn civilians who didn't live and work in Kaeson to stay out on penalty of death.
This close to the DMZ, there were no longer many non-soldiers around to observe much of anything.
They followed a truck, which hauled artillery rounds on wooden racks, into the warehouse itself.
A guard stood just inside the open warehouse doors. He checked their paperwork.
The warehouse contained two wide tunnels built at the end of a concrete truck ramp.
A pair of machine guns in identical sandbagged nests perched on the floor in each corner, simultaneously guarding the open sliding exterior doors and the tunnel mouths.
Rather than stopping to unload inside, Pahk's sergeant followed the ammo replenishment truck into the right-hand of the two tunnels.
If Kwon planned to obey his adopted Uncle's orders, he needed to work with Lieutenant Pahk. At least Kwon had been put in charge, although in the heat of battle he wondered how closely that nicety would be observed by Pahk's men.
He'd be forced to give his orders through Pahk, subject to the creative misinterpretation armies the world over suffered from through the ages.
They drove two more kilometers inside the concrete tunnel.
Walls flashed past with less than a meter of free space on each side.
Periodically, the left side of the tunnel opened up to the underground river the base was named after.
Carving through the mountain, the river's existence made turning this place into the ultimate fortified spot much simpler, even with virtually unlimited conscript labor.
Workers still had to be fed occasionally.
Besides, the water dripping from the ceiling crystallized a pattern of elegant stalactites and stalagmites, like a stone spider web. Too bad the road engineers sheered away the edges of the pre-existing caverns to flatten the floor.
War is hell when the life of the State is at stake.
The construction of Jiha base was no exception.
The guards allowed only incoming traffic via this tunnel. The other tunnel in the warehouse, paralleling the left side of the river, accommodated departing trucks.
The tunnels allowed for enough disguised traffic in both directions to keep the artillery battalion under the mountains supplied with everything they required.
Kwon couldn't think of a safer place to store the data and device until a special train arrived to ship them north.
An American Army Division couldn't fight its way into this mountain.
Jiha base was built to survive after raining death down on Seoul at the start of a war. Multiple nuclear warheads would be required to seriously affect it, let alone destroy the base.
They'd hold the data here until General Meon completed the proper travel arrangements.
The original schedule called for Kwon's team to transport the data to the IT specialists in Pyongyang later, but they were also originally scheduled to capture it a week later.
Original plans, contingency plans, extra plans, future plans; they all jumbled together.
Maybe he needed more sleep to recover from his trip south.
Either way, plans are modified by contact with the enemy.
Pahk's sergeant stopped the truck in an open cavern. He carefully turned in the limited space and backed up to a loading dock matching the height of the tailgate.
Kwon opened his door and jumped down.
Pahk followed.
Kwon got him started on their next steps. "Have your men secure something we can carry the weapon and the data on. Whatever kind of carts they use to transport artillery shells should work. They must be accustomed to delicate movements, or this base would've blown itself up years ago."
"I'll send someone to round up a few of the artillery battalion's conscript labor as well. They can drag that thing deeper into the mountain while my men pull security."
"I can see one of those skeletons falling in front of the cart, spilling the device, letting it go rolling down some tunnel. No, put a couple of men out front to clear the way, but we need trustworthy hands moving the cart. Besides, if we recruit help, they'll get curious why we want them to be so careful. No one but the battalion commander knows what we're bringing in. Keep it that way."
Pahk nodded his acquiescence. He'd been strangely subdued after the confrontation in Meon's office.
Maybe he was coming around.
As long as he continued to take orders, their team could make security around the weapon and data impregnable.<
br />
The locals wouldn't care about their team securing the drive shelves from the lab in their midst, but revealing the warhead to the artillerymen might cause panic. He'd need to decide on a proper code name for the weapon.
"I'll go ahead and inspect our new home."
With Pahk in charge of transporting the device through the cleared caverns, any mistakes or damaging drops would rebound on him.
He couldn't blame Kwon for his own shoddy work.
Kwon's lieutenant insignia and ID sufficed to get him to the Artillery Battalion HQ.
There, he sent a clerk to guide Pahk and team through the caverns. Recruited a facilities sergeant to take him to their new combination barracks and secret storage site.
Both men hunched over as the artillery sergeant led him down a winding tunnel.
They reached to a hollowed-out cavern about the size of a railroad car.
The sergeant gave him the rice-cup tour. "Unlike the artillery positions on the south side of the mountain overlooking the DMZ, this area doesn't open up to the outside, sir. Battalion's been using it for auxiliary shell storage. Cleared the shells out and installed those eight cots as requested."
"Good. Sanitary facilities?"
The underground river entered the far side of the cavern from the east before flowing westward. The sergeant pointed at some kind of wooden contraption build at the edge, "The CO had one of the engineers rig up a toilet for your men. There's a hook beside it so you can also rig a camp shower."
So no drinking out of the river.
No fires, either. Not enough ventilation. "We need an electric stove."
"Sorry, sir, used to eating our rations cold, so didn't think of that. I'll get something delivered. Anything else you need?"
"Can you get me some steel plates and hinges to block the entrance off with? Some steel netting for that river entrance? Need to physically secure the cavern from any possible intrusion point. I'm sure one of my men can weld, assuming you'll loan us the equipment."
"Can do, sir! The battalion commander made very clear the cooperation General Meon ordered."
Perfect.
Maybe he just needed a few days of easy garrison duty to clear his head and figure out how Meon's orders would lead to the reunification of North and South under their Supreme Commander.
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