Red Phoenix Burning (42 page)

“There, are you happy now, Master Sergeant?” exclaimed Cho. Oh didn’t respond. Fear seized Cho as he hunted for a pulse on Oh’s neck—there wasn’t one. Oh was dead.

Rhee had little time to see what was going on with his master sergeant. Once the shooting had started, he ordered Ghost Two to take ranges and transmit. He also alerted Maeng to expect return fire; the Kim faction apparently had laser-warning sensors.

One of the corporals flashed Rhee an OK sign. They had the data and were ready to transmit. Rhee pushed his finger skyward and yelled, “Transmit!”

Hellcat Strike

“Puma lead, this is Dog Pound. DPIs received, data being transferred by Dolly. Commence attack by flight, over.”

“Roger, Dog Pound,” said Tony as he quickly looked at the center flat-panel display. The data link, brevity code Dolly, had uploaded the sixteen-digit UTM coordinates for his four GBU-38B bombs into his computer. He took a brief moment to scan each designated point of impact to make sure they were close to each other. He had no desire to drop a bomb on the friendlies hiding nearby. “Dog Pound, DPI coordinates confirmed. Commencing attack run.”

Tony then took a deep breath and called out to the other flight leaders. “Commence attack by flight. Puma will go in first, then Lynx, Leopard, with Jaguar bringing up the rear. Let’s not keep the snake-eaters waiting.”

As he listened to their acknowledgments, Tony pointed his F-16 to the northeast and punched it to full military power. He looked to his left and right and saw the shadowy outlines of the other three jets in his flight. Keying his mike he radioed his wingman, “You go first, Wookie. You’ve got the two big boys.”

The flights of Hellcat strike quickly formed a line and, guided by their heads-up displays, flew to the release point. One by one, the onboard computer automatically released their bombs. Tony pulled his ship up and to the left as soon as he felt the bombs fall off the racks. Again looking over his shoulder, he tried to watch the other flights during their runs, but it was too dark. All he could do was listen in as each flight lead announced ordnance release, and when they were clear. Once Jaguar flight was done, Tony radioed the E-8C JSTARS.

“Dog Pound, bombs away.”

Before the JSTARS aircraft could respond, the E-3C air battle manager broke on line. “All flights, this is Lighthouse. I have six bogeys, bearing zero three zero, range fifteen miles, speed four hundred, angels seven. Negative IFF.”

Ghost Brigade

Kevin flinched as an RPG hit the rock face to his left, the shock wave travelling through the solid wall. The defenders had apparently calmed down a little, as their fire was becoming more accurate. So far, they hadn’t ventured from their protective cover, but that would only be a matter of time—and there were a lot more of them than his band of commandos. They needed help.

“Nightstalker one, this is Ghost One Bravo, request immediate close air support. Target is illuminated with incendiaries,” shouted Kevin. What he heard in reply was disheartening.

“Negative on CAS request, Ghost One Bravo,” said the helo pilot. His voice betrayed his disappointment. “Airspace is closed due to inbound strike. I suggest you duck and cover.”

Oh great
, thought Kevin.

Two more commandos were hit as the Kim forces pushed toward their position. The holdouts were attempting a rush, but it was poorly coordinated, and Rhee’s men beat them back. He’d heard the decline for close air support over the radio; the air strike was on its way. All they had to do was hold their ground for just a little longer.

Cho hugged the small boulder closely as the bullets whizzed by. He managed a few shots with his assault rifle, but had no idea if he hit anything worthwhile. But when an RPG round fell short, he knew he had to get back behind better cover.

Just as he was about to make a run for it, the attackers made another charge. The accurate fire from the commandos dropped many of those rushing their position, but there were simply too many, and a number of attackers managed to get over the rocks. The fighting devolved into a hand-to-hand skirmish. Again the commandos had the qualitative advantage, but the Kim faction had numbers.

Cho watched as Rhee took down three with his pistol and then crush the windpipe of a fourth with a forceful knife-hand strike. But it was the fifth soldier that caught the colonel on his blind side, delivering a sharp blow with the rifle butt. Stunned, Rhee was thrown to the ground. The soldier paused to take careful aim, but before he could shoot, Cho ran across and slammed into him, driving the man headfirst into the rock. Dazed, the soldier shook his head, pulled his combat knife, and rushed toward Cho.

He lunged to his right, the quick move causing the soldier’s main thrust to miss, but he swept the blade downward and caught Cho’s left leg squarely in the calf. The pain was incredible and he let out a scream of agony. Cho hit the ground hard. He struggled to get back up, but with his right leg under his body, and his left useless, he couldn’t move quickly. The soldier approached with a wicked smile; Cho looked frantically for a weapon of any kind. None were within reach. All he could think of was how cruel this war had been to Kary. Just as the soldier raised the knife, a sharp crack from Rhee’s pistol put an end to his lethal intentions.

Rhee then looked around and saw many of his men were wounded, but the latest charge had been beaten back. He glanced at his watch, and then yelled at the top of his lungs, “EVERYONE DOWN!”

Then the ground started shaking.

The bombs fell in such a rapid interval that it seemed like one big, long explosion. The 2,000-pound penetrators tore into the mountainside and ripped the walls apart, causing a landslide. Bodies, living and dead, bounced off the ground as the shock traveled for kilometers. Then the high-explosive bombs hit the launch pads. The fuel and oxidizer tanks of the KN-08 missiles were shredded. Freed from their containment, the hypergolic chemicals poured onto the ground and mixed, enhancing the explosive effects many times over. Rhee felt the intense concussive blast and heat from the exploding missiles, even though they were over five hundred meters away, and shielded by over a meter of hard rock. No one on the other side of that wall could have survived. After what seemed like an eternity, the ground stopped shaking.

Hellcat Strike

Tony snapped his head hard right and saw six sets of blue flames below him. The fighters were coming up fast, at full afterburner. “All flights, tally on bogeys, four o’clock low.”

Reaching over to the control panel, Tony dumped his empty drop tanks and pulled his ship into a hard right bank. He was the farthest away from the approaching enemy aircraft and had to quickly get back into position. He watched in horror as two of the bogeys flew right into the trailing element of Jaguar flight. The other four kept on coming, right toward him. They had no intention of running, or returning alive.

“Stick with me, Wookie,” exclaimed Tony as he continued his right bank and pushed his nose down. His maneuver threw off the approaching pilot, who tried to pull a steep turn while at afterburner.

“Saint! You have a bogey slipping into your six o’clock!”

Oh shit!
Tony thought to himself.
I’m being double-teamed!
“I could use a little help here, Wookie!” he said.

“Rog. I’m engaging!” Soon after, Tony heard “Fox Two!” indicating a heat-seeking missile had just been launched. The sudden bright flash told him Wookie had got a kill. “Splash one!”

Tony finished his barrel roll and found himself just off the bogey’s port quarter; the pilot had overshot his target. Lining up the target in his HUD, Tony selected an infrared-guided missile and waited for the loud growl that told him his AIM-9X had locked on to the target. As soon as the welcome noise filled his headphones, Tony pulled the trigger and announced, “Fox Two!”

The missile leapt off the rail and flew a straight path to the hostile aircraft, aided by the concentrated heat from the afterburners. Tony watched as the bright plume of the missile’s exhaust merged with the target, disappeared, and then exploded, shredding the enemy fighter. “Splash two!” he called out.

Lynx and Leopard flights soon reported the downing of the remaining two aircraft. His body loaded with adrenaline, Tony did a full search of the night skies, looking for any more hostile aircraft.

“Puma lead, this is Lighthouse. All bogeys have been splashed. Repeat, all bogeys have been splashed.”

“Roger, Lighthouse. Thanks for the update. Where did those jokers come from?”

“Dog Pound picked them up before we did. Looks like they used a highway as a runway. They didn’t come from any of the nearby air bases.”

“Sneaky little bastards,” grumbled Tony as his blood pressure finally began to drop.

“That they were, Puma lead. Oh, and congratulations on number eighteen, Saint!”

Tony shook his head; it hadn’t even sunk in yet that he’d scored another kill. “Oh, yeah, right,” he mumbled. “I must be getting old.” Then keying his mike, Tony ordered, “All flights, this is Puma lead, return to base.”

X Corps Headquarters

A huge mushroom cloud erupted from the mountain ahead of him—a monstrous pillar of bright orange and red flames. A thundering roar soon followed, the sound echoing off the surrounding hills. At first, Tae could only look on in utter despair. He feared the Chinese had carried out their threat and used a nuclear weapon to destroy the missile site. Disheartened, he waited for the shock wave and wall of fire to put an end to his life. And he kept on waiting.

But as he watched the cloud dissipate, he realized that blast wasn’t a nuclear device, but the exploding remains of the Kim nightmare. In a most unprofessional manner, Tae let out a shout of joy and gave Ryeon a bear hug.

There would still be some more fighting, but it was all a mop-up campaign now. The new United Han Republic would survive. His land would survive. With a light heart, he started walking back up the road.

Epilogue

9 September 2015, 4:40 p.m. local time

Munsan Refugee Camp

Outside Dongducheon, United Han Republic

She hadn’t been waiting for him, not exactly. There was more than enough to keep her mind occupied. With the final defeat of the Kim holdouts, the army had started talking about repatriating the Northern citizens, which was good news, but this had added “travel agent” to her job description. The army wanted her input on who should go home first, and where they wanted to go, and didn’t understand why it was such a difficult question to answer.

She’d shifted her chair a little so she had a clearer view of the door. And she checked her phone more often than before, although she knew he didn’t even have one. He could borrow someone’s cell phone, after all.

Late in the afternoon, absorbed in a file that was supposed to list the home provinces of everyone in each camp, and didn’t, she noticed a shadow across her keyboard and looked back over her shoulder. It was Cho.

Startled, she shrieked “Eep! How long have you been standing there?” Then happiness replaced surprise, and she quickly stood and welcomed him back with a hug. He pecked her on the cheek, which felt completely normal, and only made her happier.

Taking a step back, she looked him up and down while he stood, smiling broadly. “You’re all right?”

He shrugged. “I’m here, still breathing. I would like to get off my feet, though.”

“Oh, of course,” she said and let go.

He gratefully plopped into a chair next to her desk. “I’m exhausted. My cot in tent six actually looked homey.”

“Well, don’t get too settled. The army will start moving people out of here in the next few days.” She gestured toward her laptop. “There’s a lot to do.”

“And I’ll be glad to help.” He smiled warmly.

When he didn’t say anything else, she prompted, “So? What happened? You’ve been gone for three days.”

He sighed. “They debriefed me in this stuffy, windowless van. I got very little sleep. They said my information was very useful. And as soon as they were done with me, I came back here, as quickly as I could.”

She reached over and squeezed his hand. “I’m proud of you for speaking up. I know you didn’t want to.”

Cho nodded, agreeing. “Absolutely. We former spies still like to keep a low profile.”

She laughed, but said, “Later, I want to hear all about what you told the army. I’m sure it helped, because the day after you left they destroyed the holdouts’ nuclear weapons in a missile complex, and now they’re hunting down the last of the stragglers. But you must know all about that. It’s been all over the news, of course.”

“I haven’t seen a television in days,” he answered.

“Then you should,” she said enthusiastically. “They’re showing pictures of the ruined complex. And there was an air battle, too. They’ve got video of a MiG-29 fighter being shot down.”

She looked at the clock. It was almost time for them to go for dinner. She obviously wasn’t going to get any more work done. “Come on. I’ll buy you a cup of coffee and you can catch up on what’s been happening.” She headed for the coffeepot.

After a pause, Cho got up and followed her. She poured two cups of coffee and handed one to Cho, who turned and walked slowly toward the tent next to theirs. “You really are tired. I guess I’ll have to take care of you,” she remarked brightly, taking him by the arm.

The rec tent was as large as the headquarters tent; it held a ping-pong table at one end and a large-screen television at the other. The chairs in between the two were all turned to face the TV. Two-thirds were filled with people, all in a festive mood, laughing and sometimes clapping at the news.

Several members of her staff saw them come in and recognized Cho, welcoming him back. “Congratulations! Good work!” Others teased Kary, asking her what it was like having a hero for a boyfriend. And they were glad to see Cho hadn’t been badly wounded.

Their words made no sense to her. “I don’t understand,” Kary said. “We just came in to watch the news about the battle.”

“Exactly!” someone answered. They made room for her and Cho in the front row. Another person said, “They have been running the footage almost continuously.”

Completely confused now, Kary could only ask, “What footage?” She looked to Cho, who managed to look both confused and apprehensive.

“You’ll see. Just sit and watch for a few minutes.”

That had been her intention anyway, so she and Cho sat together watching one of the Korean news channels. She held his hand tightly, giving it an occasional squeeze.

There was nonstop coverage of the war. The first piece they saw had aerial views of the missile complex, now a blackened and smoking ruin. Her blood ran cold at the thought of how close the missiles had come to actually being used.

The next segment featured a hidden cache of currency and gold that had been found during the search of a North Korean diplomat’s house in Switzerland. It was worth tens of millions, and was one of many such hoards being discovered around the world.
So much greed
, she thought. The diplomat was in custody until he could be repatriated to Korea, where he would probably face money-laundering charges, among other things.

“It’s the top of the hour,” someone announced. “They’ll run it now.” The staffer was smiling broadly, which only added to Kary’s confusion.

The image shifted to show a clearing, with a wooded mountainside in the background. “This is video that just reached us of the special forces soldiers that attacked the Kim holdouts’ fortress and destroyed the missiles inside.”

The camera centered on an older officer in battle-stained fatigues. His helmet was off, and he was wearing a black beret, a sure sign the battle was over, and he was taking a long drink from his canteen.

Helicopters were taking off and landing behind him. “Colonel Rhee Han-gil, shown here, the commander of the Ghosts Special Forces Brigade, personally led over a hundred and fifty of his elite troops through heavy fire, at times engaging in hand-to-hand combat, to destroy the missile complex.”

The camera panned right to show groups of soldiers, obviously very tired, sprawled on the ground. Medics were working on some who were wounded. “The army won’t release any casualty figures until all the next of kin are notified, but described their losses as ‘lower than expected.’”

Rhee walked into the frame from one side, and the camera zoomed in to follow him as he stopped to speak to different soldiers, then knelt next to a wounded trooper sprawled on the grass. His helmet and assault rifle lay next to him. The camera zoomed in a little more, centering first on a bloody but bandaged leg, then on their faces as they spoke.

Kary realized the wounded soldier was Cho. Then she immediately dismissed the idea. It must be someone who just looks a lot like him. She looked at the man sitting next to her, then back to the screen, searching for some difference. Her confusion grew when she couldn’t find one. Was this really Cho in the video?

Astonished, she watched the two figures on the screen. It was clear from their manner that the colonel was praising the soldier, and Rhee patted him on the shoulder, then grinned and saluted the man—Cho—before straightening and moving on.

“As a matter of policy, the authorities do not release the names of soldiers in special forces units. Colonel Rhee, as the leader of the attack, is an exception. Questioned about the wounded soldier Colonel Rhee was speaking with, an army spokesman identified him as someone who was critical to the success of the attack.”

The report ended, and thunderous applause filled the tent, punctuated with cheers. Cho was bright red with embarrassment. If he wanted to keep a low profile, this was an epic failure. Confusion and surprise whirled inside Kary; then the pieces began to fall into place.

She looked Cho straight in the eye, a deep scowl on her face. “Pull up your pants leg,” she ordered in a no-nonsense tone.

Cho nodded and pulled up the cuff of his fatigue pants. She saw nothing but leg.

“Nice try,” she said. “The other one, please.” There was a sharper edge to her order.

This time, he got the trouser up no more than a few inches before she saw the white of a bandage. Her medical training kicked in. The wound had obviously been treated already. “How bad is it? Was there any infection? And why are you walking on it?”

Cho winced as he rolled the pant leg down. “It’s not too bad. It only went through the soft part of my calf, and they’ve pumped me full of antibiotics. And they gave me a crutch, but I don’t—”

“Where is it?”

He pointed to a spot on his calf.

“Not the wound, the crutch!”

“Oh, that. I left it outside your tent. I wanted to see how well I could get by—”

“You didn’t want me to see you were hurt! Later on, you can tell me which of the several bad reasons you used to justify that decision.”

She turned to one of her staffers sitting next to her. She asked sweetly, “Helen, would you please get the crutch for us?” Helen, like everyone else nearby, was following the conversation closely, the news channel ignored. She nodded and dashed from the tent.

Kary found it was possible to care deeply for someone, to believe that someone was a wonderful person, and still want to throttle him.

She was aware of the many people around her, but didn’t feel embarrassed or self-conscious. If Cho was uncomfortable with his less-than-low profile, that was too bad.

She watched him closely. “Tell me the truth. Were you in the battle?”

Cho sighed. “Yes, I was in the battle.”

“You lied to me about the van!” she accused.

“No, no!” he insisted. “I was in the van. The battle was later.”

Her understanding grew. “So you just skipped the part about the battle. Did they make you go, or did you volunteer?”

After a short pause, he answered, “I volunteered. It turned out—”

“And when were you going to tell me about this?”

“I was looking for the right time! I didn’t want to upset you.”

She laughed. “What? Were you afraid I would go to pieces? After everything we’ve been through? When was that time going to be? ‘Right away’ would have been good.”

“I was working on it!” he protested. “I promise, it wasn’t going to be long.” Cho noticed Helen standing to one side, offering his abandoned crutch, and desperate for any distraction, took it gratefully. “Thank you so much.”

Kary nodded, and said briskly, “Good. Now that you’re mobile, let’s go somewhere and have a long talk, unless your leg’s too sore. We could just stay here.”

Levering himself up with his crutch, Cho said, “No, we can go.”

The two left at a measured pace, with Kary slowing her steps to match Cho’s progress with the crutch. She ignored the rising buzz of conversation behind her.

Even while one part of her mind automatically and calmly planned his convalescence, the rest boiled with a dozen questions she wanted to ask and another dozen things she was going to tell him.

If I don’t kill him first.

10 September 2015, 8:00 p.m. local time

CNN Special Report

“This evening, Seoul and Beijing announced an agreement in principle for the rapid withdrawal of Chinese forces still in former DPRK territory. Citing vague ‘security concerns,’ the PRC had previously avoided discussing when their troops would leave, even though all former DPRK weapons of mass destruction had been located and turned over to the US Eighth Army for destruction.

“Acknowledging China’s concerns without addressing their exact nature, the Korean foreign minister, meeting with his counterpart from Beijing in Tokyo, said that, ‘building a relationship of trust with Korea’s northern neighbor will be an important part of the United Han Republic’s new foreign policy.’

“The former DPRK maintained the fifth-largest standing army in the world. Its sudden removal from the region means that the large and expensive US presence in Korea is no longer necessary. The first point of agreement is that while America will continue its alliance and serve as a guarantor of Korean sovereignty, the bulk of its combat forces will return to the United States. Medical and logistical units will remain for some time to assist in the massive humanitarian effort.

“With the removal of the US combat forces, and the expected partial demobilization of the Korean army, Chinese forces in the region will also be reduced.

“The economic benefits of this are far-reaching. In addition to the reduced military budgets, all three nations stand to gain, especially since China was providing the equivalent of over two billion dollars in direct aid annually to Pyongyang for decades. This represented half of China’s entire foreign aid budget each year. While it will lose an equal amount of trade income from goods it sold to the DPRK, China stands to gain many times that amount in trade with a united Korea.

“The one very large, very dark cloud on Korea’s economic horizon is the massive cost of repairing the damage in the north caused by the war, and of upgrading—indeed, almost rebuilding—the infrastructure of the entire former DPRK.

“Economists familiar with the integration of East and West Germany estimate that reconstruction will require seven to ten percent of Korea’s gross domestic product for the next ten to twenty years. This is a staggering amount, a lump sum of about half a trillion US dollars. These same experts note, however, that Germany faced a similar hurdle and overcame it. The determination of the Korean people is at least as great.

“In that economic context, as a second point of agreement, the United Han Republic has pledged the equivalent of ten billion US dollars in trade to China for at least the next ten years. This will include construction contracts, immediate purchases of foodstuffs and fuel for the relief effort, and even some ammunition and repair parts for the former DPRK’s military hardware. The details of the agreement will be worked out in Tokyo over the next few weeks, but social media reports some Chinese units are already moving north.

“An additional incentive for the PLA’s withdrawal is that it relieves their army of responsibility for the Korean civilians in the areas they occupied. Han army units, now engaged in a humanitarian effort instead of a combat mission, are following closely behind the Chinese troops. It is possible that all former DPRK territory will be clear of Chinese forces by the end of the month.”