Thunder in the Morning Calm (36 page)

They heard a tap on the driver’s-side window. Gunner pointed his rifle toward the back doors of the van as Jung-Hoon rolled the window
down. A voice in broken but understandable English said, “Colonel Jung-Hoon. I am Doctor Kaesong. This is an honor. You and your friends, follow me.”

“Peace be with you,” Jung-Hoon said.

“And also with you,” the doctor responded.

“Fear not,” Jung-Hoon said, “for I am with thee.”

The doctor responded with, “Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.”

“You do that well even in English, Doctor,” Jung-Hoon said.

Gunner and Jackrabbit looked at each other. Jung-Hoon opened the door and stepped out.

No shots yet.

Gunner looked at Jackrabbit. “I’ll go. You cover. You know what to do if this is a setup.”

“Got your back, Commander.”

Gunner laid down his rifle — too intimidating if these people really were allies — but he tucked his pistol in the back of his belt. He opened the back door of the van — light poured in — and he stepped out.

A smiling middle-aged Korean man wearing a white medical jacket and an old stethoscope stood beside Jung-Hoon.

Jackrabbit, apparently satisfied there was no immediate danger, got out of the van without his rifle.

“Please follow me,” the doctor said.

Jackrabbit gave Gunner a quick and subtle it’s-okay nod, and they fell in line behind Jung-Hoon and the pharmacist.

The doctor opened the door of the building, and they hurried down a long hallway that stretched all the way to the front of the building, where the guard was posted outside. They walked down the hall about fifteen feet. The doctor opened a door on the left and said, “Please, come in.”

Gunner was last to enter the large room, which resembled an operating room, complete with an operating table in the middle of the floor. Two women, both midthirtyish, stood up when they entered. One wore a long white nurse’s uniform, something that looked vintage 1950s. The other had on a long black dress down to her ankles. On the side of her neck was a gauze patch.

“This is my nurse.” The doctor nodded at the woman in white. “If it is okay, I will not give her name. Security reasons.”

“That is fine,” Gunner said.

“And this is Pak. She is the one I told you about who works at the camp.” Pak closed her eyes and bowed toward Gunner. “She was the one they burned with cigarettes because she gave medicine to the elderly American who died. She is lucky to be alive. They lined her up to be shot, tied her to a tree, but changed their minds and decided to burn her neck and commit her here instead.”

She looked up at Gunner. Her black eyes had a soft, haunting beauty about them.

“So it is true,” Gunner said, “Americans are still alive here.”

Pak looked at the doctor, then at the nurse, then at Jung-Hoon. She appeared to be terrified.

The nurse put her hand on her shoulder and whispered something in her ear.

“She is afraid to talk about the camp,” Jung-Hoon said. “Dear Leader makes it a capital offense for anyone to mention it. She thinks we may be North Korean agents seeking to trap her so we have an excuse to cut off her head.”

The nurse kept talking to Pak.

“The nurse is telling her that no one here will report her to Dear Leader or to anyone at the prison. She says we all are against Dear Leader and are against Communists.”

Pak kept nodding as the nurse spoke to her.

Finally, when the nurse’s explanations seemed over, Jung-Hoon said, “Pak, let me show you something.” He took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeve. He pointed at the tattoo of the man shoveling dirt on the North Korean flag.

Pak looked at it and smiled. Then she burst into laughter.

“Jackrabbit, show her yours,” Jung-Hoon said.

“Sure, anything it takes.” Jackrabbit rolled up his sleeve, revealing the same tattoo.

More laughter and head nodding. Even Gunner could not contain his laughter.

Pak smiled and put up both hands, as if to say she needed no more convincing. “For the two old men who are left, I will tell what I know. If you are agents … I will have done what is right.”

Gunner came back to his last question. “So it is true? There are Americans still in the camp?”

“Yes,” she said. “It is true.”

“How many?”

“Only two left now. There were three. One died yesterday. The one I tried to help.”

“You know his name?”

“His name was Robert. That is all I know.”

Dear God, no! Gunner thought, then he asked, “Do you know his last name? Where he was from?”

“No. Don’t know last name. He from USA.”

“No, I mean where? Where in USA?”

“Don’t know. Sorry. One time he mention … Vur …”

Gunner’s heart jack-hammered. “Was it Virginia? Maybe Vermont?”

“Not sure. Don’t know those places.”

He took out the photograph of his grandfather in uniform. “This was my grandfather. He disappeared in Korea. Did he look anything like this?”

Pak studied the photograph. “This young man. These old men. No recognize. Sorry.” She handed the photograph back.

“Okay, okay,” Jackrabbit said. “It may or may not have been your grandfather, Commander. We’ve known all along that was a long shot. But the point is, this lady says some old Americans are in a camp somewhere nearby. I say if that’s the case, then let’s go get ‘em. Get ‘em out of there.”

“Amen,” Gunner said.

“Mind if I ask you a few questions, ma’am?” Jackrabbit said.

Pak nodded.

“What’s the name of this camp and how far away is it?”

“Camp is Kim Yong-nam Military Prison Camp. I think from here, it is forty miles. I am not good with distances. Takes about one hour.”

“She is right,” the doctor said. “About forty miles is right.”

“Which direction?”

“It is on Songch’on River near small town of Youngwang,” she said.

“That is west of here,” Dr. Kaesong said.

“How many guards are there?” Jackrabbit asked. “What kind of guns do they have? What does the camp have to keep people out? Walls? Fences?”

“Not many guards. Two at front gate all the time. They stay outside with guns and guard front gate. Fence all around has much barbed wire
at top. Inside, there are three guards. One very mean new guard named Kang. He takes bullwhip to prisoners and spits in their faces. The other day, he hit one of the prisoners across his foot with bullwhip. The colonel is commander of the camp. He has an assistant, a sergeant, who is … how you say … his mistress.

“Three kitchen workers come and prepare meals. Arrive about eight and leave at seven. Not many people working at camp. Once many more people working there. More guards, more workers. More prisoners. But so many prisoners die. Now only two.”

Gunner, Jackrabbit, and Jung-Hoon looked at one another. “Pak, can you draw us a map of the inside of the prison camp grounds?” Jackrabbit asked.

“Yes, I can draw map.”

The doctor passed her a sheet of paper, and she began to sketch. Finally she was satisfied. “Here,” she said, handing over the drawing.

Gunner and Jung-Hoon hovered over Jackrabbit’s shoulders. “Hmm,” Jackrabbit said. “Looks like a simple layout. Main administration building. Guard residence. Prisoners’ residences. Mess hall. Nothing too complicated.” He looked at Pak. “Only one entrance into the camp?”

“Yes. At the front guard station. Here.” She pointed.

Jackrabbit eyed Jung-Hoon. “Sounds doable to me.”

“Agreed,” Jung-Hoon said.

“When it gets dark, we move in,” Jackrabbit said. “Pop off the guards at the front and try the heavy wire cutters at the gate. If that doesn’t work, we rig a little C4 and
poof
. We’re in. Jung-Hoon, you find the colonel and take him out. The commander and I take out the other three guards. We grab the prisoners and get the heck out of Dodge.”

“Dodge?” Jung-Hoon said, a puzzled look on his face.

“Forget it,” Jackrabbit said. “Doctor, we’ve got lots of supplies, but we’re short on medical stuff. Could we buy a couple of light stretchers and bandages? That sort of thing?”

“Of course. Anything you need.”

Jackrabbit looked at Pak. “Ma’am, we sure could use your help if you would be willing to come with us. You could help us locate the prisoners. But this could be very dangerous. We’ll understand if you don’t want to come.”

Pak looked over at the nurse as if seeking her approval.

Gunner spoke up. “Pak, if we can rescue these men, we are going to take them out of the country. We’ll take you with us too, if you want to come. You can request asylum in South Korea or America. My family can help you.”

Pak again glanced at the nurse. The nurse nodded.

“Yes, I will come.”

“Thank you,” Gunner said. He turned to the doctor. “Once we get these guys out of the camp, what’s the best way out of here?”

The pharmacist reached in his pocket and took out a folded paper. “I have a map of the escape route.”

Route from prison (small white star) to China and into Korea Bay

“That is fabulous,” Gunner said.

Mr. Jeong spread out the map on a table. “This is the route we use to get people into China from this area.

“We are here, near the four-point star, between Sinp’o and Hungnam. Prison camp is here, north of Hamhung. I have small white star there. Near town of Youngwang. A single-lane road goes north out of Youngwang about thirty miles. All roads in this area are narrow. Not much traffic and no big cities.

“When you get to the town of Changjin, you turn left on road across mountains to Chonch’on. From there you take road to Wiwon, where you cross Yalu River into China. It is about eighty miles across the mountains from Changjin to the Yalu River and the Chinese border. It could take you three, maybe four hours.

“When you get across the river, the missionaries will pick you up. You are about one hundred miles from Dandong, China. The seaplane is about ten miles farther. From there to Inchon, South Korea, is about a three-hundred-mile flight over Korea Bay and the Yellow Sea.”

“So if all goes well,” Gunner said, “we could cross into China sometime after midnight and be aboard that plane by sunrise.”

“Possibly,” Mr. Jeong said. “The good news — there are not many cars or police or Army on this route. But the bad news — the Yalu River is heavily guarded by North Korean border guards who shoot anyone they see trying to cross. And if the Chinese capture you, they turn you back over to North Korean authorities.”

“Can the Chinese be bought?” Gunner asked.

“Yes, some can,” Mr. Jeong said. “Not all. Depends. If they are hardcore Communist, then no.”

“You’ll need to save your money for that seaplane, Commander,” Jackrabbit reminded him.

“One other question,” Gunner said. “How do we cross the river?”

“You walk across,” Mr. Jeong said.

“Walk?” Gunner said. “Only one man ever walked on water.”

“Hah!” Mr. Jeong said. “Actually, two. Jesus and Peter. But this river is shallow and is frozen over from late November till March. So you will walk across. But be careful. Very slippery. And if they see you, there will be deadly gunfire.”

“I appreciate the warning,” Gunner said.

“I will pray that the One who first walked on water will be with you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Jeong.”

Jackrabbit looked at his watch. “I say we strike one hour after sundown. That gives us plenty of time to take care of business, get the men out of there, and get to China before the North Koreans wake up and realize what hit ‘em.”

“Agreed,” Gunner said. “We strike one hour after sundown. Tonight is the night.”

Kim Yong-nam Military Prison Camp

N
ight had fallen over North Korea, and looming snow clouds had once again moved in from the Sea of Japan. This snow, however, differed from any that Gunner had ever seen. The large snowflakes floated down from clouds that flashed with lightning bolts, and after the flashes of lightning came booms of thunder.

Thundersnow.

Flash … Boom.

He had heard of it. It was reported to have occurred in Manhattan in the Boxing Day blizzard of 2010. But Gunner had never before witnessed this rare phenomenon. Perhaps the snow, combined with the flashing and the booming thunderclaps, would serve as a well-timed distraction for what they were about to do.

The prison camp was now less than a mile away. This was his plan, his brainchild. All that had tortured and twisted within him was racing toward a dramatic life-or-death climax. With this realization, a surprising case of nerves caught him off guard.

He was an intelligence officer. He was not a Special Forces commando. But the plan called for him to perform like a commando. He and Jackrabbit were to advance on foot and eliminate the two front-gate guards while Jung-Hoon remained behind with the van.

Once the guards were eliminated, Jung-Hoon would move up with the van to better position it for the getaway. That was the plan.

“This is as close as we can get without being seen,” Pak said.

Jung-Hoon pulled the van over to the side of the road.