Authors: Craig Reed Jr
Red Ice (10 page)
Nob Hill
3:15am
Norman Kwan sat in the living room of his home, an open bottle of scotch on the side table next to him. He’d loosened his tie, taken off his shoes and cradled a half-filled glass of the liquor. The room was mostly in darkness, and at this time of night the house was quiet. His wife was in New York on business, adding to the silence, while his grown children were off on their own.
He’d never wanted to be a spy, but the state had decided he would become a Reconnaissance General Bureau agent, so a spy he became — starting at the age of ten. Trained by the 225th Bureau in espionage, and drilled relentlessly in state dogma, he had been smuggled to Taiwan when he was eighteen, given the name of Norman Kwan, and enrolled in the National Taipei University of Business. He graduated with a master’s degree in international business and then spent several years working in a North Korean front company. There, he helped funnel money and goods into his homeland before being tapped for a major mission — infiltrating the United States.
In this capacity, he spent fifteen years building up his import-export company. He became a U.S. citizen, married a lovely American woman, had three children, and became a leading voice of business in the city. By then, he knew that his leaders, had lied to him about everything. If he could have, he would have told the Kims to take their “worker’s paradise” and stick it up their asses. He enjoyed his life here, where food wasn’t rationed, where he could say and read anything he wanted, and where the government didn’t watch his every move and word.
Of course, it wasn’t as simple as that. He still had family in North Korea, brothers, sisters, parents, and several nephews and nieces, all one step away from being arrested and thrown into one of the prison camps the Kims and their toadies kept for those who disobeyed their whims. It didn’t matter if they were innocent; the state believed in family guilt, the actions of one tainting the entire family, and it would be three generations before any of the family saw the outside of the camps, assuming they survived long enough. Part of Kwan’s training took him to some of those camps and he had seen firsthand what happened to those who opposed the state.
So it was that when Pyongyang ordered him to run for an open seat on the Board of Supervisors for the City and County of San Francisco, he had no choice. He’d tried to run a lackluster race, but his opponent bungled his campaign so badly that Kwan still beat him handily. At the victory party, he’d received a message written in Korean congratulating him, with a picture of his brother as a reminder of the consequences of failure.
He won reelection several more times, and was elected President of the Board of Supervisors in the most recent election. He was now the second most powerful city official after the mayor. Pyongyang’s demands were constant and straightforward; the status of the military bases in the area, even the closed ones, federal anti-terrorist plans in the city, U.S. navy fleet movements through San Francisco, and any other information the People’s Republic thought could be important.
But it wasn’t just the spying. It was a stream of demands for various items that were taken for granted here but were extremely rare in North Korea. Hollywood film and porn DVDs, liquor, electronics such as MP3 players and large-screen TVs, and other luxuries were demanded of him. People in North Korea were starving and what were the Kims and the country’s elite doing? Living well, eating well, watching programs forbidden to most of his countrymen, and generally doing what they accused America and her allies of being — arrogant, self-centered, and petty.
Despite all the demands, Kwan felt comfortable enough in his dual roles as spy and politician. He gave his superiors what they demanded, most of which was public source or easy to buy. He didn’t know what plans they had for him, but for now he was content to follow orders.
He was so deep in thought that he didn’t detect Rhee’s presence until the major said in Korean, “You are a disgrace.”
Kwan’s head snapped up, fear and surprise quickly replaced by anger. “What are you doing here?” he hissed in English.
“I came for an update on the task I gave you.”
“You gave me twenty-four hours.”
“Things are moving faster than I expected. What have you found out?”
Kwan downed the rest of his glass’ contents and set it down next to the bottle. “I met with Casey briefly this afternoon. I asked him about reports there was a CIA hit team in the city and I demanded he tell me the truth.”
“Did he?”
Kwan snorted. “Of course not! He told me there was no CIA team in town, as they are forbidden to act inside the U.S.. He then said that he was here to brief the mayor and the Board of Supervisors, and nothing more.”
“I see.” Rhee’s expression was ice cold. “Did the police make any headway at the pier?”
“The feds took over — FBI, DEA, ATF. The SFPD is only assisting now. The investigation is being managed by D.C., and they are not releasing information yet.”
“I thought you were an important leader.”
Kwan shrugged. “Important
city
leader. My power base is here in San Francisco, with some pull at the state level, but zip at the federal level.”
Rhee tilted his head. “There is a U.S. senator retiring soon, is there not?”
Kwan nodded. “Two years.”
“Excellent. For right now, do you know where the mayor will be tomorrow?”
Kwan pointed to the dining room. “I have her itinerary on the table.”
Rhee strode to the dining room table and picked up a sheet of paper. He walked back into the living room, stood next to the lamp that was on and read the paper. When he was finished he looked up at Kwan. “Where will you be when the mayor visits the DEA office?”
“There’s a Board of Supervisors meeting at the same time. I will be there.”
“Good.”
“What’s so good about it?”
Rhee smiled coldly. “It is time you took on more responsibility,
sachon
.”
Kwan felt his stomach twist when Rhee called him cousin. “What do you mean?”
“You don’t need to know. I—”
Something in Rhee’s coat pocket buzzed. The major scowled and plucked a cell phone from the pocket. “
Ne
?” He listened for a few seconds, then said, “I want a full alert at the ranch! I will be out there shortly. Did the doctor and the shipment make it? Good. You have your orders — carry them out!”
He put the phone away, then stared at Kwan. “The Americans are becoming a problem. They attacked an important facility tonight.”
“Any of our people hurt?” Kwan asked, though the words felt bitter as he uttered them.
“
Aniyo
,” Rhee replied. “It was only Triad
jang-gae
, no one important. But the Americans missed destroying our plans by a few hours. They seem to know much.”
“They must have a spy inside the Triad.”
Rhee frowned, but nodded. “It is the only thing that makes sense. I must see to a few things. For now, do not deviate from you normal schedule. You are a vital part of the fight against American Imperialism. Now you will begin your rise to heights where you can help the state the most.”
Kwan felt his stomach twist again. “Of course, Major.”
Rhee left as silently as he had come. Kwan waited a few minutes, then searched the house, but Rhee was gone. He locked all of the doors and returned to the living room. He reached over and poured another glass of scotch.
“Goddamn
jongpuk
,” he muttered.
Ninety miles Northeast of San Francisco
6:46am
The new Red Ice lab was located in the heart of the state’s historical Gold Rush territory. Less than ten miles from Sutter Creek, the ranch’s former owner had fallen on hard times due to the ongoing drought and ended up selling the property to a front company set up by North Korean intelligence.
The sun edged over the horizon as Rhee got out of the car and walked toward the house. The ranch covered two thousand acres of mostly open land. The southern half of the ranch, the part closest to the road, was flat and open, while the rear northern half consisted of low rocky hills that rose above the rest of the spread. The facilities included a covered corral next to a large barn, while a low, wide ranch house lay to Rhee’s right. The ground was mostly a dull brown, the dried grass and dirt roughly the same color. The only green came from the occasional tree that dotted the hills.
Muhn and another soldier stayed with the car. As Rhee stepped up onto the porch, the front door opened and another Asian man stepped out. He wore jeans, a flannel shirt, with work boots. He had the compact body of someone who did heavy work frequently, but his eyes in the light of the porch light were hard and cold like diamonds.
He stepped aside and bowed, then spoke to Rhee in his native Korean. “Sir, please come to see our progress.”
Inside the house, the place resembled more of an army barracks than a home. Furniture was minimal, with patriotic posters of the three Kims who had ruled the homeland for seventy years exulting the soldiers to work hard and complete their mission. Several of the front-facing windows had been turned into machine-gun posts, each with a tripod-mounted DShK heavy machine gun ready to be moved into position should the ranch be attacked.
Rhee was led to a kitchen at the back of the house. “Coffee, sir?”
Rhee shook his head. “Any problems, Myoung?”
Senior Captain Myoung Kyung-ju, in charge of the ranch, shook his head. “The supplies and chemists, including Dr. Mori, arrived as expected. According to P’il, the prisoners are behaving.”
“Where is Mori?”
“In the lab. Ryuk says the first new batch of Red Ice will be ready in twelve hours.”
“Has he learned the
patbingsu
formula yet?”
Myoung shook his head. “She’s still keeping it a secret.”
“What about the ammonia nitrate?”
“Slow. The Americans are regulating sales of fertilizer, and we have to be careful not to buy too much from the same dealer. Also, the government is replacing the ammonia nitrate with a new formula that is not explosive. We currently only have twenty bags.”
“We need twenty times as much. We will only have one shot at causing massive casualties using this method, and I will not accept any excuse for delay of this stage.”
“Understood, sir. I have located four storage facilities within a hundred miles where there is fertilizer in sizable quantities. With your permission, we will raid one of them tomorrow night.”
Rhee shook his head. “No, we will raid all four of them tomorrow night. We will have only one chance to secure ammonia nitrate. After that, the Americans will get wind of our plan and crack down. They will not allow us a second chance. Better to have too much of the fertilizer than too little. What about the other items?”
“The trucks are rented. The other ingredients required to make the bombs have already been secured. Everything is in the barn.”
Rhee smiled. “Excellent. I’m going to the lab.”
“Now? Breakfast is nearly ready.”
“I will eat when I come back. I will not be here long.”
“Of course sir.”
#
The tunnel was in the basement, accessible by a hole dug in one corner. The tunnel itself was narrow, only six inches wider that Rhee’s shoulders, and the height of the tunnel would have brushed Muhn’s head. Wooden support frames were spaced every twenty feet, from which hung bare bulbs that illuminated Rhee’s path. Despite its dimensions, the tunnel was straight and level and the walls, floor and ceiling were smooth.
Less than two minutes later, the tunnel opened into a small underground room twice the width of the tunnel. In the center, surrounded by a waist-high barricade of sandbags and protected by a shield was a DShK heavy machine gun pointing down the tunnel. The two guards, each wearing a set of plain brown fatigues, stood and snapped to attention.
“Where is Captain P’il?” Rhee asked.
“Control center, sir!” one of the guards replied.
Rhee nodded and walked past the machine gun nest into the next tunnel, a short one that took him to the adjacent chamber, a barracks for eight of the base’s thirty-two man security force. The four guards sitting around the table came to attention as soon as Rhee entered the room. He nodded and walked around the table and into yet another tunnel on the other side.
The next area was a natural cavern the size of the first barracks Rhee had lived in. The ceiling was twenty feet overhead, and unlike the man-made tunnels, the walls and floor were rough and unfinished. Stalactites and stalagmites reduced line of light to only a few yards throughout most of the chamber.
Rhee knew that myriad tunnels, somewhat hidden among the cavern’s layout, led from the main space to other parts of the facility. Rhee ignored the tunnel hidden in the shadows to his left, knowing it led to the escape shaft, and instead proceeded through the spacious cave, following the worn path made by others. He found the passage he wanted and soon found himself in the heart of the hidden base.
The central chamber was almost the same size as the main cavern, but unlike it, it had been entirely excavated by the hundred or so imported slaves. This area acted as the central hub for the complex and the dozens of people who lived here. Tunnels branched off to staff quarters, storage areas, a generator room, the prisoner holding areas, and most importantly, the Red Ice lab.
Rhee spotted P’il in the doorway of the security station. The captain turned and saluted. “Major Rhee.”
Rhee returned the salute. P’il Min-hyuk was large for a Korean, a full head taller and broader than Rhee, with a shaved head, a flat face and hard, cold eyes. Rhee didn’t like the base’s guard commander. He and his men were drawn from The Ministry of People’s Security’s
kwalliso
camps, where those who had betrayed the state were kept prisoner and forced to atone for their crimes. P’il was in charge of the lab’s security and the slaves.
“What brings you here, sir?”
“I want to see Dr. Mori.”
P’il looked at a clock over the door. “She is working in the lab now. Is there a problem?”
“For her, yes. She is still refusing to reveal the
patbingsu
formula.”
“My specialists could get her to reveal it. They have experience in that sort of thing.”
Rhee shook his head. “As a last resort. She is still necessary for
Uiloun Gyeoul
to succeed.”
The captain nodded. “Let’s go talk to her.”
The lab represented the most sophisticated technology in the entire base, larger and more modern than the test lab at the warehouse. Sets of lab benches were engulfed by glass beakers, flasks, burners, tubes, and other equipment Rhee didn’t recognize. The floor was tiled, gleaming white in the overhead lights. At the far end, the wall was lined with steel racks loaded with plastic drums and jugs of hazardous liquids.
Rhee, followed by P’il and two guards, each wearing an industrial-grade filter mask, entered. There were a dozen people in the room, also wearing masks. Four were P’il’s guards, standing in the lab’s corners, wearing respirators and armed with Type 56 assault rifles, clubs, and cattle prods. Five were political prisoners unfortunate enough to have a background in chemistry, distinguished by the leg manacles and collars they wore. On the other hand, Rhee knew, they may not be alive at all were it not for their special skill sets.
The last three were the professional chemists. Mori turned to look at them as they entered, and even from across the room, Rhee could discern the fear in her eyes. She spun away, placing her hands on the counter to support her weight.
Rhee walked over to her, motioning Ryuk and Chung away from the woman. “I will ask you once again. Give us the
patbingsu
formula, Dr. Mori. Give it to us, and we can end this farce.”
With a scream muffled by the mask, Mori spun toward him, quicker than Rhee expected, her fist aimed for Rhee’s throat. Rhee blocked the fist, but had to hop backwards to avoid the kick aimed at his groin. He sidestepped Mori’s second punch, grabbed her extended arm with one hand and delivered a stunning backfist to the side of her head.
Before the chemist could recover, Rhee was behind her, her trapped arm yanked hard up against her back, while Rhee’s other arm was barred across her throat. “Now, now, Doctor,” Rhee said in a chiding tone. “Losing your temper is never a good thing, especially with me.”
He tightened his arm across her throat, just enough to constrict her windpipe. “I still need you alive.” He looked at P’il. “I think the good doctor needs some rest.”
The security commander signaled for two of his men to come over. Rhee released his hold on Mori and shoved her toward the guards. “Confine her to her room. Half rations from now on.”
Mori spun toward Rhee, but before she could do anything, the guards grabbed her. “You won’t get the formula!” she spat. “I’ll die first!”
Rhee shook his head. “It is only a matter of time. I can either break you now, or I could wait until we locate your daughter and trade the formula for her life.”
The chemist’s eyes widened in fear. “You wouldn’t!”
Rhee’s face held an expression that said,
Oh really?
“Why not do it the easy way? Give me the formula now and I will call off the search for your daughter. But if we have to find and take her from whoever is protecting her, you will find the price for her freedom that much steeper.”
He flicked his hand toward the door. “Think about it in your room, Dr. Mori. My people are closing in on her. It may only be hours, minutes, before we have her.”
A stunned Mori was escorted from the lab and then Rhee turned to Ryuk. “She still hasn’t revealed anything about the
patbingsu
formula, not even partial details?”
Ryuk shook his head. “Nothing.”
“How much
patbingsu
is there?”
“About a kilo and a half.”
“I’m taking all the finished
patbingsu
with me.”
“Of course.”
“In the meantime, continue making Red Ice.”
P’il frowned. “Begging your pardon, sir, but I do not understand the urgency in the situation. When we run out of the
patbingsu
, it is not like we have to be out of business.” He waved an arm at the elaborate facility before continuing. “Why not just kill her at that point and go back to making normal meth?” Ryuk also took on an expression of interest as they both looked to Rhee for an answer.
Rhee directed his icy gaze at P’il. “Because the Red Ice is more potent and brings a greater return on the street. One kilo of Red Ice is currently four times more profitable than crystal meth.”
P’il shrugged. “So why not make four times the meth?”
Rhee’s stare was unwavering, his tone even as he answered. “Because the Marshal’s orders were clear; we are to flood America with Red Ice. We will bring the country to its knees.”
P’il nodded, acquiescing at the mention of their supreme leader. “Of course.”
Rhee relaxed a bit, glad to continue on with the business at hand. “Captain, keep a close watch on Dr. Mori. She may do something stupid to protect her daughter, such as try to kill herself. Once I have the
patbingsu
, I am going back to San Francisco to start stage two of Operation
Bam Beulleideu
. I want the first Red Ice shipment ready to ship by this time tomorrow. We have people waiting for it, and I do not wish to disappoint them.”