any camps are still there?”
“I think the camps were once there,” the Korean said, “but I doubt that they are still there, at least not to hold captured Americans. Most if not all of the Americans should have died by now.”
Gunner studied the map again, then looked up. “So … let me ask it this way. Do you think they are still holding any Americans?”
Jung-Hoon met his eyes. He glanced at Jackrabbit, then back at Gunner. “A year ago, I heard rumors that a few might still be alive. These rumors came from reports floating over from the North. Since then … nothing. But do I believe that there still may be elderly Americans somewhere behind the lines?” He stopped for a moment, as if weighing the odds. “If someone put a gun to my head and made me guess, I would say yes. I would not think many were still alive, but too many reports surfaced over the years for there not to be some truth to these rumors.”
The three men sat there, seemingly in a speechless stalemate. Gunner finally said, “How can I get into that area to find out?”
“You’d need a pile of money and a suicide wish,” Jackrabbit said.
“Money’s no problem,” Gunner said. “Let’s say I wanted to take a small team in behind the lines, unnoticed, with the mission of discovering whether these rumors are true … and, if so, bringing one or two of the men out alive.”
Jung-Hoon and Jackrabbit again eyed each other. Then Jung-Hoon nodded, yielding the floor to the American expat. “You’d need a light aircraft you could ditch in the sea. A rubber floatable Zodiac boat. Light weaponry. Sophisticated communications equipment with jammers. Maps. Dagger military GPS devices with updated crypto key. Light plastic explosives with remote detonators. Heavy-duty wire cutters. Plenty of cash. US dollars and even more North Korean won. And, of course, if you’re caught, you’re executed on the spot.”
Gunner looked at the American he had just met, then at the Korean. “I know your background, gentlemen. I know how each of you feelsabout the Communist regime in Pyongyang. Will you help me? I will pay you more in a month than you would make in a year.”
Eyes shifted again between Jung-Hoon and Jackrabbit. “When you’re asking for help,” Jackrabbit said, “you mean you want us to cross the lines with you?”
“Why not?” Gunner said. “Both of you have faced dangerous situations with Special Forces on top-secret missions all over the world. If the money’s right … and it will be … why not this mission? You’re both fearless. And you have a chance to accomplish something worthwhile.”
“But Commander,” Jung-Hoon said, “we are both retired warriors. I live a peaceful life running this bar. And my friend here” — he nodded to Jackrabbit — “he can speak for himself, but I have known him for years. He is trying to live a quiet life here in Korea, away from the fast life back in the USA. Besides, while neither of us fears dying, if we are caught, the stakes would be greater than our own lives. The North would claim that we are government spies and use this as a pretext for attacking the South. If that happens, innocent women and children would die. So you see, Commander, this is not only about money. Tell me why we should consider this.”
The Korean had made a good point.
Would Gunner lose his most valuable team members before even getting started? Perhaps he should go back to the
Truman
or spend a week or two in Seoul and then leave. He prayed for the right words.
“I’m from Virginia. I wasn’t much on reading the Good Book back then, but every night my mother made me memorize a Bible verse. One that she made me repeat every day for a year was very simple.” He paused. “Deuteronomy 6:18: ‘Do what is right.’ “ He looked at Jackrabbit. “You’re an American. You live here in South Korea now, but you will always be an American. Now I know our country has undergone considerable change.” He stopped.
“I think the camps were once there,” the Korean said, “but I doubt that they are still there, at least not to hold captured Americans. Most if not all of the Americans should have died by now.”
Gunner studied the map again, then looked up. “So … let me ask it this way. Do you think they are still holding any Americans?”
Jung-Hoon met his eyes. He glanced at Jackrabbit, then back at Gunner. “A year ago, I heard rumors that a few might still be alive. These rumors came from reports floating over from the North. Since then … nothing. But do I believe that there still may be elderly Americans somewhere behind the lines?” He stopped for a moment, as if weighing the odds. “If someone put a gun to my head and made me guess, I would say yes. I would not think many were still alive, but too many reports surfaced over the years for there not to be some truth to these rumors.”
The three men sat there, seemingly in a speechless stalemate. Gunner finally said, “How can I get into that area to find out?”
“You’d need a pile of money and a suicide wish,” Jackrabbit said.
“Money’s no problem,” Gunner said. “Let’s say I wanted to take a small team in behind the lines, unnoticed, with the mission of discovering whether these rumors are true … and, if so, bringing one or two of the men out alive.”
Jung-Hoon and Jackrabbit again eyed each other. Then Jung-Hoon nodded, yielding the floor to the American expat. “You’d need a light aircraft you could ditch in the sea. A rubber floatable Zodiac boat. Light weaponry. Sophisticated communications equipment with jammers. Maps. Dagger military GPS devices with updated crypto key. Light plastic explosives with remote detonators. Heavy-duty wire cutters. Plenty of cash. US dollars and even more North Korean won. And, of course, if you’re caught, you’re executed on the spot.”
Gunner looked at the American he had just met, then at the Korean. “I know your background, gentlemen. I know how each of you feelsabout the Communist regime in Pyongyang. Will you help me? I will pay you more in a month than you would make in a year.”
Eyes shifted again between Jung-Hoon and Jackrabbit. “When you’re asking for help,” Jackrabbit said, “you mean you want us to cross the lines with you?”
“Why not?” Gunner said. “Both of you have faced dangerous situations with Special Forces on top-secret missions all over the world. If the money’s right … and it will be … why not this mission? You’re both fearless. And you have a chance to accomplish something worthwhile.”
“But Commander,” Jung-Hoon said, “we are both retired warriors. I live a peaceful life running this bar. And my friend here” — he nodded to Jackrabbit — “he can speak for himself, but I have known him for years. He is trying to live a quiet life here in Korea, away from the fast life back in the USA. Besides, while neither of us fears dying, if we are caught, the stakes would be greater than our own lives. The North would claim that we are government spies and use this as a pretext for attacking the South. If that happens, innocent women and children would die. So you see, Commander, this is not only about money. Tell me why we should consider this.”
The Korean had made a good point.
Would Gunner lose his most valuable team members before even getting started? Perhaps he should go back to the
Truman
or spend a week or two in Seoul and then leave. He prayed for the right words.
“I’m from Virginia. I wasn’t much on reading the Good Book back then, but every night my mother made me memorize a Bible verse. One that she made me repeat every day for a year was very simple.” He paused. “Deuteronomy 6:18: ‘Do what is right.’ “ He looked at Jackrabbit. “You’re an American. You live here in South Korea now, but you will always be an American. Now I know our country has undergone considerable change.” He stopped.
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