Operation Hail Storm

Wonsan, North Korea ― Warehouse

The sound of a ragged running truck motor woke Victor Kornev. It was a loud diesel engine that sounded as if it was ready to puke out a chunk of iron off to the side of the road. But to Victor Kornev, it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

Besides sound, the first waking sensory input that Kornev noticed was that he was drenched in perspiration. He wiped liquid from his forehead with the sleeve of his already wet shirt. The next sense to wake up was his nose. He breathed in the scent of his own spoiled musk. It was revolting. He could never remember being so dirty. The next item on the waking parade was his stomach. He felt like he wanted to throw up. And he couldn’t figure out if he wanted to throw up because of the heat, or his smell, or because of all the disgusting North Korean dishes he had been consuming during his stay. But none of that mattered now, because the truck was here.

Kornev unfolded himself from the short back seat of the UAZ in which he had been sleeping. He groaned as his paralyzed extremities came back to life. Now sitting upright in the back seat, Kornev pushed the front seatback forward and reached for the door handle. He gave it a tug and used the handle to pull himself up and out of the Russian military vehicle.

Kornev took a moment to get his bearings. He glanced toward the closed front gate and saw the diesel rig sitting patiently at a standstill, waiting for someone to let it in.

Kornev walked briskly toward the main gate, only to discover a North Korean guard sleeping soundly against the fence only twenty feet away. Kornev walked over and nudged the soldier with his shoe. The guard awoke and quickly jumped to his feet. Kornev pointed at the gate and told the man in Korean, “Let the truck in.”

The soldier nodded many times and bowed many times. Kornev guessed that the man would like to keep his unapproved nap just between the two of them.

The soldier fumbled with his keys for moment before finding the correct one. He plugged it into the padlock and gave it a turn. The guard unthreaded the chain from the gate and swung it open.

Kornev stepped to the side and motioned for the truck to come in. As the truck passed, Kornev jumped onto the cab’s step and pointed the driver toward the entrance of the warehouse. Glancing back, Kornev verified that indeed the driver was hauling the last section of the missile. Kornev could have kissed the driver or shot him. Either way, he was happy because knew he would be out of the country in a matter of hours.

The truck crossed the dirt yard and came to a stop in front of the closed warehouse doors.

Kornev jumped off the step and walked over to the office door. A North Korean soldier was guarding the door. This man was not asleep. The soldier bowed to Kornev and opened the door to the office. Kornev stepped in and found the Minister sleeping in his hard chair. Kornev shook his head at the sight, mystified how the man could sleep so soundly in that position. The Russian walked over and tapped the bottom leg of the chair with his foot. The Minister let out a large snore and then a cough and then his eyes snapped open. He looked up at Kornev with reverence, as if Kornev had materialized before him from thin air.

“The truck is here,” Kornev said in English. “I have your man opening the warehouse doors.”

The Minister nodded sleepily and then tried to stand. He wobbled for a moment, unsteady on feet that were still sleeping. The small man picked up his big hat from the desk and placed it on his shaved head. Both men walked out the front office door and turned to the right. The soldier that had been at the front door was now wrestling to open the massive warehouse doors that apparently hadn’t been oiled in the last century. One door was open, but the other was stuck. Kornev went over to help the guard get it rolling on its track. The tall sheet metal door squealed and then there was a crack as a rock was pulverized under its wheels. The pushing eased and the door slid open the rest of the way without any other issues. Kornev hoped that this would be the last of his menial tasks before he got paid and got gone.

Then Kornev noticed that the truck’s crane was located on the back of the trailer, instead of the front, which meant that it was pointing the wrong direction. In order for the crane to reach the area they had reserved for the last missile section, the truck would have to be backed in.

Kornev walked over and climbed back onto the cab’s stair and told the driver in Korean, “Sorry, you need to back it in.”

The driver nodded and Kornev stepped back down.

To Kornev, it seemed as if he’d been sucked into a time warped universe where one minute in his old universe took five minutes in this new one. Either everything took longer to accomplish or it simply appeared that way. Sure, Kornev was hot, thirsty and hungry and needed a shower, but from Kornev’s perspective it took the truck driver ten minutes to circle the lot and back the big rig into the warehouse. It was at that point that Kornev decided he wasn’t going to wait for the unloading process. The way these people moved, that process could take a decade.

Kornev walked over to the Minster and said, “All the parts are here. If you don’t mind, I would like to get paid and leave your wonderful country.”

The Minister was pleased that Kornev had a great admiration for his country. He nodded his head, smiled widely and grunted, “Very good,” in English.

The two men left the warehouse without ever noticing the strange contraptions that were sitting on top of each of their coveted missile stages. Grey, relatively flat and inconspicuous, the drones were easy to miss.

The office was even hotter than Kornev remembered and it stank of just about everything that had ever had an odor associated with it.

The Minister walked over to the corner of the office and removed a section of the wooden floor. Under the square section of flooring was a small safe that was cemented into the slab beneath it. The Minister began to twirl the combination lock this way and that. Again, the weird North Korean time warp played on Kornev’s nerves. It shouldn’t take as long as it was taking for the dignitary to open a safe.

Kornev was considering actually timing the extraction of the diamonds from the safe to verify he hadn’t lost his mind, when his phone rang.

It was a call from a number he did not recognize.

“This is Victor,” Kornev answered.

He listened to the voice on the other end.

Kornev’s face slackened noticeably as he took in the words from the caller.

The Minister finished opening the safe and pulled the top off.

Kornev said angrily, “Who is this?”

The Minister turned around just in time to see Kornev run from the office and out the front door. The Minister of Defense ran out the door after him holding up a black back of diamonds and yelling, “Where are you going.”

The Minister was shocked and confused to see Kornev jump into the UAZ, start the engine, slam the vehicle into gear and then drive out the opened front gate, leaving nothing but dust and millions in diamonds behind.