Critical Incidents: The ROK - Land of HAN (A Jack Gunn Mystery Thriller Book 1) (3 page)

Lee is one tough cookie. He has a 3
rd
degree black belt in Tae Kwon Do and Judo. He spent seven years in the Korean Army before becoming a National Intelligence Service Agent or NIS Agent. His Father, who passed away a few years ago, was an agent for twenty years. KY has followed in his footsteps. Normally in Korea your career will be similar to your father’s.

I first met Lee when we were both in the military. He was selected to be a KATUSA, which is short for “Korean Augmentation to the United States Army.” He was assigned to military police training at Yongsan Garrison, in Seoul. I was given the job of training him, or for lack of a better word, general babysitting.

KATUSA Soldiers are Korean men who volunteer to serve two years embedded with the United States Army. They are carefully selected to make sure they have the right attitude to adjust to our culture and a basic knowledge of English. Normally there can be anywhere from 5,000 to 10,000 KATUSA’s assigned to the United States Army each year.

The KATUSA learn everything they can while embedded. After two years, they return to the ROK Army and teach others what they’ve learned. This makes both countries closer. It develops friendships and helps both Armies to be very similar as far as regulations, terminology, and duty assignments.   

We were assigned to patrol Yongsan Base together doing general law enforcement duties, curfew enforcement in Itaewon, or anywhere in Seoul for that matter. We hit it off right away. At that time, his English was not the best, but it was better than most Koreans. English is the second language of Korea. All students learn to speak and read it, starting in middle school.

While based in Korea, I took language lessons provided by the Army because I knew Korean would come in handy. I always believed to understand a culture you must learn some of the language and customs. I’ve also studied Japanese, German, and Spanish. I am not totally fluent in any of them, but know enough to get around without an interpreter. It takes years of constant exposure to learn a foreign language.

I can’t write in Korean because that it is something you have to learn when you’re a kid. My fingers don’t go that way, is what I say. Writing those crazy little lines is impossible to learn at my age. However, I have learned to read certain key words. The most important one is restroom or toilet.

Lee and I became close friends and started hanging around together, even when off duty. We would go sightseeing all over Korea. Many of the places he had never been to either. KY helped me learn to speak Korean, which I still have problems with, and I helped him improve his English. I taught him slang and curse words that the schools don’t teach. He picked it up really fast, which helped him to communicate with American Soldiers.

I said, “KY, you look the same. You never age.”     

He replied, “You look great also. Wait here and I’ll get the car.”

“Ok, go ahead. I need to run back inside and exchange some money.” Everyone accepts dollars in Korea, but it’s better to use local currency, which is the won.

I went inside to find a bank counter. While at the Bank of Korea exchange counter I heard a commotion. Turning around, I observed four police officers escorting a woman out of the building. I did a double take; it looked like the flight attendant from our plane. It was the one that helped Stan with his briefcase. I knew exactly what had happened; she got caught holding the bag. I wondered what was inside? It probably contained some kind of drugs. I wondered if the police would arrest Stan also. They don’t fool around here with drugs. The laws are tough and the prisons are terrible. They show no mercy to those who break the law.

I changed one thousand U.S. Dollars into won. The rate is 1,100 won to one dollar. I received 1,100,000 won in 100,000 notes minus a small exchange fee. Dashing back outside to find KY, I scanned the long line of vehicles waiting to pick up people.

I heard a horn honk a few cars down. I didn’t recognize the car. Looking in the window it was KY. His car was parked at the curb, in a no parking zone. It was a shiny new black Hyundai Genesis.

Jumping in, I said, “Nice car.”

“Thanks, it’s a company car. I got it two weeks ago. It has a 5.0 V8 motor and is loaded.”

“Does it have ass wipers?” We both chuckled.

“No, but it will kick some ass. It’s super charged and puts out 490 horses. This baby goes zero to 120 kph in 4.5 seconds. Top end is 280 kph.”

“That’s impressive. It’s always good to have a fast car,” I commented.

“Yes, remember those guys chasing us in Gumi years ago, when I had my little Hyundai Pony?”

The Hyundai Pony was a small two-door car. It was one of the first cars Hyundai manufactured. Being totally under-powered with an 80-hp four cylinder motor, it was a real dog. It had no power steering or brakes, making it a nightmare to drive. 

I said, “Yeah, that was a long time ago. I remember that car and the terrible Gumo-san hotel. You wanted to stay there because it was rumored to be owned by the Park family.”

The Park family refers to the one and only President Park who was killed by his own bodyguard. It was a huge scandal and everyone believed that his loyal bodyguard was a North Korean agent, who somehow infiltrated the inner circle. 

Pulling out of the airport, Lee said, “Well, you agreed to stay at the Gumo-san Hotel. There wasn’t any other decent place to spend the night.”

“If I remember correctly, it was you that wanted to go to the hotel bar drinking and dancing. I just wanted to watch some TV and get some rest.”

“I don’t recall that. You wanted to check out the bar and have a few drinks,” Lee replied, while laughing.

“I just wanted a few drinks to relax after a long drive. I didn’t want to party until two in the morning. You wanted to dance with the ladies and that almost got us killed.”

I laughed, while thinking back to old times and that critical incident.

YEARS AGO

*****

Lee and I were on our way back to Seoul after sightseeing in Kwangju. Normally we would have driven right through to Seoul, which was a six hour drive. I always do the driving on the Seoul-Pusan Expressway, also known as the ‘Highway of Death,’ due to the fact I am a better driver at high speeds. I am used to driving on expressways in the United States. KY knew I had a lot more experience than him. Lee drives in Seoul City since he knows his way around the streets better than I do.

The Highway of Death is Route 1, also known as the Seoul-Pusan Expressway. It is the first modern highway ever built linking Seoul directly to Pusan, which is a seven-hour drive. Highway 1 is similar to the Pennsylvania Turnpike; it twists through the mountains, going up and down, and has many tunnels. Because of the steep hills, the trucks and buses slow to a crawl when going up one, and speed up going downhill. On the average, there were forty people a day killed on this highway, hence its name.      

It was raining cats and dogs due to a typhoon that blew in off the coast, which made the highway even more dangerous. It was getting late and we were tired, so we decided to stop in the small city of Gumi to spend the night. It’s about fifty miles north of Taegu. At the time there were only two hotels in Gumi, both of which were not even rated as a one star. Gumi had a small population of only a few thousand people.

We had never stayed overnight in Gumi and chose to check into the Gumo-san Hotel, which was located at the foot of Gumi Mountain, a 4,500 foot peak. From the outside the hotel appeared to be ok, but on walking into the lobby it was antiquated with old wooden furniture from the early nineteen hundreds. It was definitely a minus five star.

After checking in and going to our adjoining rooms it was a shock. The carpet was worn and bare in places. The whole room smelled like mildew. There was a small 14 inch TV, which didn’t work, and two dim lights in the whole room. Looking at the bathroom made you wonder if it was safe to use. This place hadn’t been updated in twenty or thirty years.    

Lee and I were not very happy about staying here, but we had no choice. We tried to make the best of it by drinking. It was a Saturday night and everyone goes out drinking or dancing in Korea. Koreans work hard but they also party hard, late into the night. After dinner there wasn’t much else to do other than drink. Gumi didn’t even have a movie theater.   

As I recall, a three piece band starting playing in the hotel bar about nine and by eleven the bar was packed with women and men out for a good time. Of course, I was the only foreigner in the whole place and stuck out like a sore thumb.

I noticed one young lady who was repeatedly glancing at me from a table about twenty feet away. KY noticed her also. He said, “Jack, go ask her to dance. I think she likes you.”

Thinking about his comment, I peered at her and we made eye contact. Her eyes were inviting me over to talk to her. She was a good looking chick with long dark hair and a beautiful looking face with red lips.

I said, “Ok. I’ll ask her, if you ask her girlfriend.”

“Alright, let’s go ask them,” Lee said. Just as we were about to make our move, the two girls got up to dance with each other.

We sat there closely watching them. Both were wearing short miniskirts, and I mean short. They had great looking legs and they sure knew how to dance. Actually, their moves suggested they were probably go-go dancers, which was popular in some Korean bars. The hot chick kept staring at me, while making suggestive dance moves.

Lee commented, “Look at them. Are they hot or what?”

“Yeah, they’re hot.” I ordered another round for us as we watched the show. But we weren’t the only ones watching the dancing beauties. The whole bar was watching them.

The music ended and the band took a break. To our surprise, both ladies started walking towards our table. Stupid me, glanced around behind us to see if anyone else was there. I must have looked like an idiot doing that, because our table was located in a corner.

The two women swayed up to our table. The long-haired beauty stopped directly in front of me. I didn’t know what to say to her. I managed to utter, “Hello.” I thought, how dumb can I get? This chick had me acting like a high school kid.  

Surprisingly, in broken but understandable English, she asked me, “Hello. We sit with you?”

I was surprised because in Korea a woman approaching a man in a bar is not normal protocol. I jumped up and pulled out a chair for her, and so did Lee for her girlfriend. After sitting down, I asked, “What would you ladies like to drink?”

They both ordered a Chivas Regal. While waiting for the drinks we exchanged names. Her name was Mi-young. In English it is pronounced ‘Me Young.’ Mi-young means eternally beautiful. She certainly had the correct name.

The drinks came and we toasted to new friends. Her girlfriend didn’t speak English so Lee and her had their own conversation going, while we had ours, speaking in both English and Korean.

I admit that I was smitten by her beauty and soft voice. I pulled out a pack of smokes and offered her one. She took two, struck a match, lit both cigarettes, and handed me one, after it had touched her full ruby red lips.

She asked me, “You Mi Guk (American)?”

“Yes. I am from the United States.”

“I love America. What work you do?”

“I’m in the Army.”

“You, G.I. Joe.”

“No, me G.I. Jack.” We both laughed and took a sip from our drinks.

KY interrupted our conversation. “Jack, we’re going to my room. See you in the morning.”

“Ok. See you later.”

After some more small talk, the band came back and played a slow tune. We got up to dance. She floated in my arms and glided around like she was on skates. Holding her soft body, she rubbed tightly up against me, and I gently squeezed her.

When the dance ended, I purchased a bottle of booze and some soda water to take with us. I asked her, “Chigum kalkkayo (Shall we go now)?”

She softly replied, “Ne, kapshida (Yes, let’s go).”

I didn’t say a word as she took hold of my hand when we left the bar, proceeding to my room. On the way out, I noted that there were a few men watching us, sitting near the door. They were eyeballing me for sure. I guessed they were sizing me up. I knew it upset them that a gorgeous Korean woman would leave with an ugly foreign devil. I had seen this look many times before. Some Korean men are resentful when they see foreigners with Korean women. They think they own the women, just because they are Korean. I can understand that since this is a monoethnic society, similar to that of Japan.

Arriving at my room I unlocked the door, and went in first to check it out. I always check a hotel room when I first enter. Call me paranoid, but you never know who could be waiting for you. I found that out the hard way, one time. I got blindsided by a burglar, who had broken in. He bashed me in the head, knocking me out. I lost my money, credit cards, and passport, but I was still alive.

After putting the booze on the table, I turned on the radio for some music. She poured us both a drink. We sat on the couch and I put my arm around her, pulling her in close. I could tell we had a connection that was going to evolve.

Our lips touched and it was an electric feeling for me. It had been a long time since I had an intimate encounter with a woman. She put her hand on my neck and started to rub the nape. I could tell by her breathing Mi-young was getting aroused, and so was little Jack.