Red Phoenix Burning

Chapter 8 — Unleashed

Rhee paused briefly to adjust his uniform and made sure his black beret was snug under his belt. His right shoulder protested the quick movements, but he ignored the pain, and once satisfied, strode into the outer office. Marching to the aide’s desk, Rhee snapped to attention and barked, “Colonel Rhee, Commander, Ninth Special Forces Brigade, reporting as ordered.”

There was no need for the aide to use the intercom; everyone in the office heard Rhee, including Major General Kwon.

“Ah, excellent, Colonel, come in,” Kwon remarked as he stepped out of his office. Rhee attempted to render a snappy sharp salute as soon as his superior appeared, but he wasn’t able to get his shoulder to fully comply, nor mask the slight twinge on his face. The general looked intently at Rhee as he returned the salute. He’d seen the subtle facial expression and the favored right shoulder. Pointing to the offending limb, he asked, “What did you do to yourself this time?”

Embarrassed, Rhee stretched his shoulder out as he replied. “It was a bumpy transfer to the helicopter, sir. The seas were rough and I was unceremoniously jerked off the submarine’s deck. I much prefer jumping into the ocean from a helicopter. Being reeled in felt too much like being a fish — very disconcerting.”

Kwon laughed at Rhee’s explanation. The colonel had a well-earned reputation for a dry, eccentric sense of humor. “Well, I’ll try not to have you dangle on a line like some halibut in the future,” teased Kwon. Then more seriously, “But it couldn’t be helped this time. We have a momentous task on our hands, Colonel, and I have a special job for your Ghosts. Please, come in to my office.”

Rhee followed the general, who gestured to one of the large chairs in a back corner of the room, away from the desk. An enlisted steward brought up the rear with a beverage tray, offering a cup of tea, first to Kwon, then Rhee. “Would you care for some tea or coffee, Colonel?” asked the sergeant.

“Tea would be splendid. Thank you.”

Kwon sat down and sipped his tea, waiting for the sergeant to depart and close the door. “I read your preliminary report, Colonel, several times, in fact. I found it… difficult to believe.”

Rhee nodded. “I’m sympathetic to your doubts, sir. I was there, I witnessed the regiments of the 425th Mechanized Corps fighting each other, and I’m still struggling to grasp what I saw. It was most bizarre.”

“I think we’d better get used to the bizarre, Colonel Rhee. It will be with us for some time. I assume you saw a recording of the Supreme Leader’s death?”

“Yes, sir. I watched it on the submarine. The beast got only what he deserved.”

“Be that as it may, that well-executed assassination caught us completely off guard. We had already started to stand units down after Kim’s radio announcement, and we have to undo all that, and quickly.” Kwon rose abruptly and started pacing. “Any further information from your prisoners? Particularly this Pung Jin-Ho?”

“No, sir. Pung is a low-level party official, assigned to the Korean Workers’ Party municipal staff at Chongju. He knows nothing of military value. The only insight of any importance is his knowledge that there are three main factions involved in the fighting: the Kim family, the Korean Workers’ Party, and the General Staff.

“He believes the Kim family’s assets are the weakest of the three, but they are more concentrated around Pyongyang and that makes them still dangerous. From what the American intelligence reports indicate, the KWP and General Staff factions are doing most of the fighting right now. According to our other guest, Corporal Bak, the 425th was split between the KWP and General Staff factions. I think it’s safe to say that the entire North is in complete chaos right now.”

“A chaos that could spread and consume the entire peninsula if we don’t handle this correctly,” remarked Kwon. Rhee watched as his general paced in silence. He had never seen him this somber before. Kwon walked as if there were a heavy load on his shoulders. Suddenly, Rhee felt excitement building within him. Were they actually going to do what he had only dared dream about? He shifted his weight in the chair, struggling to keep his composure, to contain the hope that was welling inside him.

“Yes, Colonel,” Kwon answered without even looking in Rhee’s direction. “President An authorized Operation Unity this morning. We are going to reunite our people. After nearly seven decades, we will be whole once more.”

Rhee felt like shouting, but he managed to restrain himself, simply asking, “What do you want me to do, sir?”

“You can begin by stuffing that unbridled optimism of yours back into your rucksack, Colonel,” chided Kwon with a smug grin on his face. “This operation, even under the most favorable of circumstances, isn’t going to be quick, easy, or inexpensive. Our nation is embarking on a task that is going to take us decades to complete. But… if we fail at the onset, it will take far longer and cost us dearly.”

“They’re our kin, sir,” Rhee replied firmly. “Held hostage by criminals. Liberating them is worth every drop of blood spilled, every won spent.”

“Hmmm, I’m not so sure the younger generation shares your burning conviction, Colonel. But still, the majority of our people believe as you do. That is why we’re moving forward. Come over to the map.”

Rhee jumped out of the chair and joined Kwon by the large map of the Korean Peninsula on the wall.

The general pointed toward several areas along the thirty-eighth parallel as he spoke. “Elements of the First and Third Armies have already crossed the DMZ along the three major avenues of approach and are heading north. We moved slowly at first, but it soon became obvious that the KPA Forward Army corps have all pulled back. To assist in picking up the pace, I’ve assigned the First, Seventh, and Thirteenth Special Forces Brigades to scout ahead and clear the way of any left-behind obstacles.”

Rhee looked at the map and saw unit markers some twenty kilometers past the DMZ along the Kaesong-Munsan approach to the west, the Chorwon approach down the middle, and the east coast approach along the eastern seaboard. It was very strange, looking at the map and seeing markers for ROK Army units streaming into the DPRK. The general was right; Rhee better get used to the bizarre.

“I’m keeping the special mission units behind to guard against infiltration by DPRK Reconnaissance Bureau teams and to pick up any high-ranking officials if they attempt to escape the fighting to the north,” Kwon continued. “Needless to say, we are going to have a colossal humanitarian problem on our hands, the refugees will be flowing like water over a falls. As for you, Colonel, I’ve saved the really hard job for your Ghosts.”

Rhee’s left eyebrow cocked up with curiosity, nothing the general had described thus far sounded particularly easy. There was a lot of territory to cover, and very few men to do it. None of the special forces units had even a thousand men in them, and their area of responsibility would only grow as the ROK army pushed northward. Rhee wasn’t sure if he should feel honored or concerned.

“We’ve been ordered to initiate Operation Gangrim — the securing of as much of the DPRK weapons of mass destruction inventory as possible. The Third, Ninth, and Eleventh brigades will take this task on,” ordered Kwon. Operation Gangrim was named after the Korean mythological hero, Gangrim Doryeong, who captured the king of the underworld. Capturing the North’s WMDs would be at least as difficult, if not more so.

Rhee frowned. He was very familiar with the Gangrim plan, but the units the general had listed were less than adequate. He opened his mouth to speak, but Kwon beat him to it. “Yes, Colonel, I’m well aware the OPLAN calls for at least four brigades to execute this mission, but we didn’t anticipate the Kim regime would come crashing down so fast, nor that we would be able move so quickly. Our plans needed to be adjusted.”

The Korean colonel heard the sharp edge in Kwon’s voice and realized that the man had had a similar conversation before… and lost. It was time for Rhee to salute smartly and do the best he could, with what he had. “Understood, sir. What are my orders?”

The professional response helped to ease the general’s manner. Kwon may have been expecting an argument. “I’ve had the target list thinned out, since we’ll be shorthanded for this mission. All the known and suspected facilities near the DMZ will be handled by the advancing First and Third Army units. Your Ninth Special Forces Brigade will tackle the big facilities on the west coast. The Third will go up the center, and the Eleventh will cover the facilities on the east coast.”

Rhee whistled softly. He now understood what Kwon had meant when he said he was saving the “really hard job” for the Ninth Ghost Brigade. Circling the area to the north of Pyongyang with his finger, Rhee half stated, half asked, “So, my unit will be responsible for the major nuclear facilities as well as the chemical weapons depots to the south of the capital.”

“Exactly.”

Rhee swept his hand over the area on the map. “These sites are the ones we know about or suspect, sir. How are we to deal with the estimated numerous unknown sites? My resources will be limited. I certainly won’t be able to go hunting for them.”

“Once we have command of the skies, we’ll be able to send in reconnaissance aircraft to begin large area searches. They will provide likely locations for your men to investigate and secure as necessary. We have no illusions about getting all of the WMDs, Colonel. Our goal is to secure as much as we can.”

Taking a deep breath, Rhee nodded and said, “We will do our best, sir.”

“I’m hoping elements of the Third Brigade will be able to link up with you before you get to the nuclear facilities, but I’d be lying if I said that was a likely prospect.”

Staring at the map, Rhee barely heard the general’s last sentence. He looked at his diverse and, unfortunately, spread-out target set. This was going to be a bastard of a job. Turning back toward Kwon, he asked, “I’m assuming we’ll be inserted by air?”

“Yes, Colonel. But it will have to be a phased deployment; the Fifth Tactical Airlift Wing only has sufficient lift capacity to deploy one brigade at a time. Yours will be first, followed by the Eleventh, and then the Third. Unfortunately, the insertion won’t be quite as covert as you’re normally accustomed to.

“Due to the size of the units involved, the deployment schedule, and the urgency of the situation, we’re just going to blast on in. Given the confusion and degradation to the North’s air defense network, we believe we can deliver you before they can react. However, there will be a fighter and SAM sweep just ahead of the C-130s. Just in case,” Kwon concluded.

The general’s last statement did not encourage Rhee one bit. Intentionally giving up the element of surprise ran counter to everything he’d been taught. He knew the ROK Air Force was short of tactical transports, but this was more than a mere inconvenience. If the insertion was challenged, Rhee could lose hundreds of his men before they even hit the ground. The operation was getting uglier and more complex with each passing moment.

Grasping for straws, Rhee asked, “What about asking the Americans for help?”

Kwon shook his head sternly. “General Fascione and the American ambassador briefed the president, defense minister, and the Joint Chiefs of Staff yesterday. The US has publicly declared this to be an internal Korean issue. They won’t deploy any forces north of the DMZ, or violate DPRK territorial waters.”

“China,” Rhee stated bluntly.

“Of course,” answered Kwon. “The Americans are hoping that by keeping their forces south of the DMZ, and dropping broad hints, the Chinese will stay north of the Yalu.”

“An interesting theory,” observed Rhee with growing frustration. “I don’t think it’s very likely, given the refugee buildup on the Chinese border, but I can appreciate the Americans’ caution.”

“Don’t be too hard on General Fascione. He’s a soldier like us and has to follow orders. From what I saw, he didn’t appear pleased with the idea, either. He will move as many units as he can forward to the DMZ to take over the defensive positions, allowing our troops to head north. He’s also requested additional units to reinforce the current standing US force. With luck, a strong US presence will deter the Chinese, or at least force them to think about it first. We can use that time. This is a meaningful compromise, Colonel.”

Rhee nodded slightly, feeling a little ashamed. He’d served with many US military personnel over his career and the vast majority had been honorable people, willing to help defend the Republic of Korea. And in the last war, many American comrades died during those cold battles. Soldiers he could trust — politicians, not so much. “When do we leave, sir?”

“I need your brigade ready to move out by 1700 tomorrow. You’ll be dropped just after nightfall. This is, by far, the most difficult assignment I’ve given anyone in my career. I’m giving it to you because your brigade is the best. I’m confident you’ll get the job done.”

“Nothing is impossible, sir,” replied Rhee, quoting the ROK Special Forces motto. He then snapped to attention and rendered honors before departing.

Rhee walked the halls of the army headquarters building on autopilot, his mind preoccupied with all the preparations that he and his men had to make, and quickly. Drop zone locations, unit deployments, weapons fit, logistics, and numerous other operational considerations all fought for attention in his brain. The size of the operation alone would strain his limited staff; the severe time constraint would only complicate the process. They had just over a day to pull everything together and execute. “Nothing is impossible,” he muttered to himself.

The Korean colonel was just passing an open office door when his thought processes were abruptly derailed by the sound of a voice. He stopped suddenly and spun around looking for whoever was talking. The man was speaking in English. He knew that voice. Peeking into the office, he saw an American army officer talking to one of the admin clerks. The man turned his head sideways — Rhee lunged toward him.

“Little! Kevin Little!” he exclaimed.

Little turned to face the enthusiastic greeter. Confused, he had no time to react before a lithe Korean Special Forces officer plowed into him. When the man finally looked up, Little saw that Cheshire cat — like grin.

“Rhee! Rhee, you son of a bitch! How the hell are you?” Little cried with excitement as he gave his friend a bear of a hug and slapped him repeatedly on the back.

“I am well, my friend, very well. When did you get back in country?”

“I arrived about three weeks ago. I haven’t been in country even a month, and the DPRK goes nuts! I think Korea is trying to tell me something,” joked Little.

“Nonsense, Little-ssi! My motherland will always welcome you warmly.” Looking around the office, Rhee saw many confused faces; some glared on with disapproval. He’d certainly overstepped the bounds of normal military etiquette, but they didn’t understand. The bond between him and Little had been forged in combat during the last war. The American officer was closer to him than his own brother. Still, Rhee’s senior rank required him to display the requisite discipline and decorum while in the presence of more junior Korean soldiers.

“Do you have a moment for tea? Or coffee?” he asked.

“I’m as busy as a one-armed paper hanger right now, but for you, I’ll make the time,” replied Little.

Rhee and Little quickly adjourned to the cafeteria to begin catching up on nearly a quarter of a century of absence. Little had transferred out of South Korea in late 1990 as things were heating up in Iraq. Small-unit leaders with combat experience were in high demand, and with the People’s Republic of China keeping the lid on the DPRK, the US presence in South Korea was drawn down to deal with the new threat. And like so many other military members from different countries, duty always got in the way of staying in touch, and the two drifted apart.

Kevin pulled out a chair and plopped down, tossing his cover onto the table. Rhee was doing the same when Little pointed to the black beret. “So when did you get drawn into the Special Forces?”

“Soon after the war,” Rhee replied, and then took a sip of tea. “I was told that I had shown promise and was encouraged to join.”

“Encouraged? Or drafted?” winked Little with a smile.

“Technically, drafting is a form of encouragement, Colonel Little. I merely showed good judgment by accepting their offer.” Both men laughed heartily. God, how Little had missed talking to this man.

“How’s your Korean? Is your grammar still terrible?”

“I’m brushing up,” Kevin admitted, a little defensively, “but who taught me grammar in the first place?”

“I’m a soldier, not a language teacher,” Rhee joked.

“You certainly seem to have done well for yourself,” said Kevin, pointing to Rhee’s collar devices.

“Yes, indeed. I’m a commanding officer of a Special Forces brigade. The Ninth, the Ghosts.” There was a note of pride in Rhee’s voice as he brandished his unit’s patch. “And what about you, my friend, what have you been up to all these years?”

Little shrugged. “Three tours in Iraq, two in Afghanistan; you know, the usual for a career officer.”

“That’s a lot of time in war zones, and presumably in combat,” remarked Rhee carefully. “I don’t mean to offend you, my friend, but why are you still a colonel? When you left Korea you were already a captain.”

The American smiled weakly and shrugged again. “Some of the higher-ups felt I had been promoted a little too quickly during the last Korean crisis, that I needed to have more time in grade. I lacked the normal experience of a well-rounded army officer, or so I was told. Those battlefield promotions put a serious damper on my career during peacetime. I almost didn’t make colonel.”

“That is absurd and unjustified!” growled Rhee. “You earned those promotions by your deeds. You did very well during that war.”

“We did very well, Rhee. It wasn’t just me,” countered Little. “Besides, my new job will hopefully make the necessary course correction, I’m the new commanding officer of the Eighth Army’s headquarters battalion.”

Rhee winced. “Being exiled to ‘admin hell’ is not my idea of a get-well tour. You deserve better, Kevin.”

“Well, in this current situation, I may be more helpful as an admin weenie.” Little looked around the room to see if anyone was paying attention to them, then leaning forward said, “I’m sure you’re aware that we aren’t going north with the ROK Army.”

“Yes, I was just informed by my general. I can appreciate your country’s concern about China, but I don’t think it will matter in the end. They’ll come south as soon as they see us making appreciable gains.”

Little nodded his agreement. “You aren’t the only one who thinks that, but our government doesn’t want to give the Chinese an excuse. As it is, I have to bring the reinforcements USFK wants in batches. That’s why I’m here today, on a Sunday, to get the paperwork squared away for the lead units of the Twenty-Fifth Infantry Division to arrive in country by midweek.”

Rhee took a deep breath. The North Korean civil war was the long-awaited opportunity for reunification that he and others had yearned for, and now their longtime ally was getting cold feet. Frustration swelled in him, an emotion that his friend was sympathetic to. Looking at his watch, Rhee knew he had to get going. There was a lot of planning that still needed doing before they began Operation Gangrim. Grabbing his black beret, Rhee stood, paused, and then leaned over the table.

“Kevin, there is one issue that I think your country could be of great service to us. Your people have far more experience dealing with mass refugee situations than the Republic of Korea; you have the knowledge and resources to deal with the wave of humanity that is coming. Do you think it would be possible for the United States to take on the responsibility of handling the humanitarian crisis? That would allow my country to send more combat units north.”

Little hesitated, considering the Korean’s request. Yeah, the US could do it, but would the government buy off on it? There was only one way to find out. Rising, he answered, “Yeah, Rhee, we could help handle the refugee issue. We’d need to get General Fascione on board, but I don’t think that’ll be a problem. Getting both our governments to agree to this, well, that may take some doing. But I can easily tweak the arrival schedule to get military police, medical, and engineering units here first. Let me bring it up with my boss and see what I can do. In the meantime, be careful my friend, and don’t get all shot up like last time.”

Rhee, feigning bewilderment, smiled, and said, “I really don’t know what you’re talking about, Colonel Little.”

It had already been a long day for President Wen Kun, and the Ministry of State Security, Second Bureau’s depressing report on the disaster in the DPRK was making it even longer. The idiotic North Koreans had flung themselves headlong into a gruesome civil war, and China had little ability to influence the outcome. That is, of course, unless the People’s Republic of China wanted to interfere militarily.

The People’s Liberation Army had presented an invasion plan to the Central Military Commission earlier that afternoon, but it had been received coolly. Many remembered the last time the country got involved with a war on the Korean Peninsula. Did China really want to put that millstone back around its neck?

When the tide of the Second Korean War had turned decisively against the DPRK, the United States approached China to assist in bringing the conflict to an end. The Chinese Communist Party leadership was hesitant at first, but the economic and technological concessions offered by the US and South Korea were enticing. And it didn’t hurt that the dragon would get a chance to poke the Russian bear in the nose… hard. In the end, the politburo decided to accept the role of peacekeepers, and with the help of the US Air Force, moved the first troops into North Korea.

At first, the mission proceeded as planned. The KPA was disarmed and its units withdrew north of the DMZ. For the first year, everyone’s focus was on the basic humanitarian needs of the North Korean people. Preventing mass starvation proved to be an expensive proposition. As time wore on, China found itself committing more troops and money to help maintain the peace and to rebuild the basic infrastructure damaged during the war. Repairs consistently took longer and cost more than expected. The US and South Korea kept their word, but the economic benefits of the open markets was soon outweighed by the costs of their “occupation.”

After five years, China had become weary of babysitting the grotesquely inefficient and needy Democratic People’s Republic of Korea. The United Nations and several humanitarian organizations had provided some assistance, but China found itself paying the majority of the bill overseeing a demanding and ungrateful charge. Desperate to get the burden off its back, but wanting to maintain the status quo, the CCP decided to put another Kim back on the throne.

In 1995, China announced that the twelve-year-old Kim Jong-un would be the next “Great Successor,” when he attained the age of twenty-eight. Until then, his aunt, Kim Jong-il’s younger sister, Kim Kyong-hui, and her husband, Jang Song-thaek, would act as regents and guide the young Kim as he was groomed for the top leadership position.

Jang was a known quantity in China; he was a dependable ally and wasn’t too expensive. As the vice chairman of the National Defense Commission, he held considerable influence in the Korean Workers’ Party, in addition to his new position as regent. Still, there was some tension with other senior KWP members who felt he had sold his country out for a cushy Chinese job.

To maintain their position, Jang and his wife literally bought the military’s loyalty by rebuilding the KPA with Chinese materiel. They then secretly poured massive resources into ballistic missile development and research into weapons of mass destruction. After witnessing the results of Operation Desert Storm, Jang knew that even a rebuilt People’s Army would be no match for the high-tech ground and air forces of the US and Republic of Korea. The DPRK would need an ace in the hole to prevent them from losing yet another war. They needed an effective deterrence. They needed nuclear weapons.

North Korea’s failed nuclear test in 2006 was a rude awakening for the Chinese. They were just as surprised as everyone else. Jang quietly reassured his allies that the weapons were defensive only, to keep the imperialists at bay while he hoped to mold North Korea’s economy along the lines of the Chinese model. Placated, the Chinese offered lukewarm support to Jang while warning him to slow the pace of development — the threat of nuclear weapons alone would be enough to keep the US south of the DMZ. By the time of the successful nuclear test in 2009, the genie was out of the bottle. There was little China could do then.

In the fall of 2010, Kim Jong-un took his initial steps toward succession when he was appointed the vice chairman of the Central Military Commission. At the end of 2011, he was declared the “Supreme Leader” and commander of the KPA. Finally, in April 2012, Kim was elevated to the ultimate position as First Secretary of the Workers’ Party of Korea — twenty-two years after the Second Korean War had ended, another Kim had come to power.

Initially, everything seemed to proceed smoothly. Kim talked about altering North Korea’s economy along Chinese lines, he seemed open to negotiations with the South, and he wasn’t quite the blowhard that his father had been. The Chinese initially thought Jang had done a good job preparing the boy for his role, and that he would be easy to manipulate. China would be able to influence the DPRK’s future without having to foot the bill. Then the wheels fell off the apple cart.

In December 2013, Kim Jong-un had his uncle arrested and executed for treason. Kim’s aunt then suddenly disappeared from the pubic view and was rumored to be either dead or in a vegetative state following a stroke after she learned of her husband’s fate. Scores of senior party officials were then purged, executed for high treason. Most were either related to Jang or to the traitors who had betrayed Kim Jong-un’s father. The young Kim then proceeded to put those loyal to him in positions of power.

Now, Kim Jong-un was dead, and the DPRK had plunged headfirst into a vicious civil war.

A knock at the door pulled Wen from his gloomy recollections. An aide entered the room and marched quickly toward the Chinese leader, carrying a folder. “Comrade President, I have the PLA intelligence report you requested on the Republic of Korea Army’s movements.”

“And?”

“The initial reports have been verified. South Korean troops have crossed the Demilitarized Zone and are proceeding north.”

Wen let out an exasperated sigh; he knew this would happen. Damn those stupid North Korean fools! “What about the American army units?” he asked.

“Elements of the Eighth Army have advanced to the DMZ, but they have not crossed. They appear to be replacing the ROK Army units that have entered the DPRK.”

“A wise move,” Wen replied cynically. “By keeping to their long-held view that this is an internal Korean problem, they make it more difficult for us to become involved.”

“But, Comrade President, we can’t have a unified Korea allied with the Americans on our borders,” objected the aide.

“I am well aware of our stated position!” snapped Wen. “But have you considered the damage comprehensive economic sanctions will have on us if we intervene militarily? Or what that black hole to our south will cost us to invade and hold? Not just for five years like last time, but possibly decades!”

Wen paused to compose himself. Ranting at a junior aide would not accomplish anything. Taking a deep breath, he looked up at the stunned young man and said, “Inform the commanders of the rocket forces, army, air force, and navy to put their units on alert. Then schedule an emergency CMC meeting for this evening. We have much to consider.”

Pavel Telitsyn closed the anonymous e-mail account with an angry stab of his finger. Nothing! Cho Ho-jin was well past due on his next scheduled report. The last one was now nearly two days old, and it had been very alarming. The factions struggling for control were indiscriminately shooting anything that moved. Civilian casualties were horrendous and the damage Cho described in Pyongyang was reminiscent of the battle histories from the Great Patriotic War that Telitsyn had read in school. But there the comparison ended. There was no clear understanding as to what faction a particular military unit was allied with, or even if a unit’s loyalty was all that firm — Telitsyn suspected some military leaders traded their unit’s services to the highest bidder.

The picture Cho had painted was one of unmitigated chaos, with no direction or strategy behind the fighting — attrition of the enemy’s forces appeared to be the only discernable goal. He had also warned his superior that it was getting harder and harder to find the information Moscow wanted. Cho doubted many in North Korea could truly be sure who was ultimately in charge of the various factions.

Anger bubbled within Telitsyn. He had to resign himself to the fact that he had probably lost an extremely valuable asset. And for what? He wanted to lash out at those fools on the security council. They had to know there was virtually no chance of obtaining the information they said they so desperately needed.

And if by some miracle the Foreign Intelligence Service had managed to obtain the information, what could they have done with it? There were very few combat units in the Eastern Military District that could be mobilized and moved quickly. With only one railway line leading up to the Tumannaya River, the Russian army couldn’t hope to transport anything more than a token force to the nineteen-kilometer-long border. Idiots!

The spymaster took a deep breath; there was no point in delaying this any longer. He grabbed his secure phone and dialed his superior’s direct line. The phone was picked up on the second ring.

“Deputy Director Malikov.”

“Sir, it’s Telitsyn. I regret to inform you that our North Korean agent has missed another scheduled communications period. This makes two days with no contact. It is my belief that he has probably been killed in the line of duty.”

“Really? And what makes you so confident that he has given his life for Mother Russia? Couldn’t he have just as well deserted, comrade?” Malikov’s voice was cold, uncaring.

Telitsyn was furious, but he bit his tongue. He wouldn’t get anywhere by screaming at his boss. “Sir, Cho went to Pyongyang as ordered. He made several reports and each time the navigation function on his satellite phone put him within one hundred meters of where he said he was. We sent him into a damn Stalingrad! The odds were very much against him surviving for long in that hellhole!”

Malikov audibly sighed on the other end. “Calm yourself, Pavel Ramonovich. I understand your frustration over losing a valuable asset, but our duty is to follow orders — whether we agree with those orders or not is irrelevant. Regardless, it appears that we no longer have direct human insight into what is happening in the DPRK. I will inform the director. And Pavel, my condolences on the loss of your agent.”

“Thank you, sir,” replied Telitsyn tersely. He knew the deputy director’s sympathies were without sentiment, merely a pro forma response. The click in the receiver announced the end of the phone call.

Hanging up, Telitsyn opened one of the bottom desk drawers and took out a bottle of vodka. Pouring a small shot, the Russian raised the glass, a salute to a fallen comrade, and gulped the fiery liquid down. Returning the bottle to the drawer, Telitsyn went back to work.

“The headquarters for the Kim faction is here, Comrade General. In the remains of the Korean Workers’ Party Central Committee complex banquet hall,” Ro Ji-hun said, pointing to the location on the Pyongyang city map. The special ops captain smiled in the dim light. “This has, of course, incensed the KWP faction greatly and they’ve already attempted two frontal assaults.”

“Both failed, I’m sure,” remarked Tae, shaking his head. The rubble from the bombed building would offer excellent defensive positions. Troops attacking from the front would literally have to crawl over the shattered walls and columns, exposing them to concentrated machine gun fire from multiple locations. Any attempt would undoubtedly end in slaughter. Tae was content with that outcome. The Kim faction would expend valuable ammunition and take some casualties, while the KWP faction was bled white by their foolish charges.

“Yes, sir. It was a poor use of their soldiers and accomplished nothing.” Ro almost sounded sorry for the slain KWP troops. “However, our reconnaissance indicates the KWP is massing additional units for yet another attempt over here, at the Mansudae Assembly Hall.”

Tae smiled. “Do we know when this attack is to begin? It would make for an excellent diversion for our forces.”

“Unfortunately, we do not know exactly when the KWP faction will make their next move. But I have men in position monitoring their troops’ every action. We may get as much as a thirty minute advance warning, but that is probably the best we can do.”

“You’ve done well, Captain,” complimented Tae, pleased with Ro’s report. The Korean general now had all the location data he needed to plan an assault on what was left of the Pyongyang Defense Command, the mainstay of the Kim faction’s forces. Tae would still need some reinforcements from Vice Marshal Koh, but a strong flanking attack would crush the Kim loyalists. The General Staff would then only have to conduct mop-up operations to finish off the remaining isolated pockets of resistance. Once the city was secured, the army could declare itself in charge and consolidate its holdings over the rest of the country. If all went well, the fighting would be over in a week, and the city would be theirs.

“Thank you, Comrade General,” replied a delighted Ro. General Tae Seok-won rarely gave compliments.

“Do you have anything else to report, Captain?”

“Just one thing, sir. It’s an unsubstantiated rumor, from a single prisoner, but I believe it is sufficiently important to bring it to your attention.”

“Very well, continue.”

“The prisoner stated that Vice Marshal Choe Ryong-hae is still alive and was spirited away from the city early this morning. He didn’t know Choe’s destination, only that it was to the north.”

Tae’s jaw hardened. This would be incredibly bad news if the claim was true. Choe Ryong-hae was the second most powerful man in the DPRK, and a close ally to the Kim family. Choe’s second son was married to Kim Yo-jong, Kim Jong-un’s younger sister, and this made Choe the closest thing to an heir apparent. If he had escaped the General Staff’s closing pincer, he could become a rallying point for other Kim loyalists. That was unacceptable.

“Do you believe this man? Is he still alive?” Tae asked quietly.

“It is hard to say, Comrade General. He was attempting to bargain the information for his life. It could be nothing more than complete fiction. However, he is still alive and can be interrogated at your convenience.”

“But if his story is true, then we have a serious problem on our hands.”

“Yes, sir. That is why I thought it best to inform you.”

“A wise decision, Captain Ro. Well, we need to—”

“General Tae! General Tae!” called out the excited voice of Captain Ryeon, the general’s aide.

“In here, Captain,” shouted Tae tersely. The interruption was not welcomed.

Ryeon burst into the command post; the man looked shocked. Tae’s emotions changed from annoyance to concern. Ryeon was not a man to be easily shaken. “What is it, Captain?” asked the general more calmly.

“Comrade General, I have message from Vice Marshal Koh. The imperialist’s puppets have crossed the demilitarized zone. There are reports of incursions all along our border.”

It was Tae’s turn to be astounded. How could the fascists just stroll across the border? Two of the four Forward Army corps was supposed to have remained behind in defensive positions to deter the Americans and South Koreans from even considering crossing the DMZ. The news was disastrous.

“How did this happen?” growled Tae with frustration. “Why didn’t the First and Second Corps engage the enemy?”

Ryeon swallowed hard. He was well aware of his general’s temper. The captain could see he was already on a slow boil. “Sir, apparently all four corps withdrew. Some of the units that Vice Marshal Koh believed were loyal to the General Staff have gone over to the KWP faction. There is heavy fighting at Wonsan.”

Tae rubbed his face with both hands. This was completely unexpected. Koh had repeatedly assured him that they needn’t be concerned about their rear. Now they had imperialist forces climbing up their backside. If they weren’t stopped, they would soon encircle his IV Corps. And while the fascists wouldn’t intentionally side with the Kim forces, he would still have to deploy troops to defend his rear. This would seriously compromise his ability to execute the attack against the Kim faction. Tae suddenly realized he didn’t have a week to secure the city; at best he had three days.

The general took a deep breath, composing himself. They would have to make drastic changes to their plan. “Comrades, we can no longer afford the luxury of a conventional attack against the Kim loyalists. We have to move much faster if we are to secure the city and prepare our defenses against the imperialists. Captain Ryeon, prepare the troops for an assault with special weapons.

“Ensure all personnel have chemical weapons defense gear, and have Major Eun bring special shells to the Thirty-Third Division’s artillery regiment. We’ll lay down a barrage of gas shells on both the Kim faction and the KWP forces, followed up with regular suppression fire as the infantry executes a shock attack. I want this attack to take place as quickly as possible. Now go.”

“Yes, Comrade General!” shouted Ryeon, departing hastily. There was much to do before the attack could begin, and Tae’s patience was already thin.

Tae then turned back to Ro. “Captain, I want you to extract every scrap of information from this prisoner, and then we need to verify if what he is said is true. I need to know if Choe is still alive. Is that clear?”