Darke Mission (42 page)

“OK, JJ, I'm on it,” said Jim. With that both vehicles drove off the main road. It was morning, but it was a bleak, wet day, it may as well have been early evening from a visual acuity perspective. Both van and jeep were dark in colour, the attack helicopter may not spot them. No such luck.

“Lily, have you got anything to shoot a helicopter?” asked Jim.

“Not really,” replied Kim Min-Jun. “I've got my sniper's rifle but that's a bit hit and miss when it comes to downing choppers.”

The Iceman was still in the back of the jeep, tending to Ethel, who had now lapsed fully into unconsciousness.

“Iceman, got anything to zap a fucking chopper, we could be under attack in a minute?” asked Bradbury, with increasing alarm.

“Not anything reliable, Jim, but I brought along my grenade launcher just in case,” replied Kim Chun-So. The M203 grenade launcher presently being extracted from the Iceman's kit bag was an oldie but goldie. First designed in the late 60s the launch device could be attached to a US M4 Carbine, which was the Iceman's second rifle of choice. It was a single shot weapon which could launch five to seven of its grenades per minute. Its most effective distance was about 150 metres with a maximum range of 400 metres. It was the best option the team had.

Jim told Lily and the Iceman to get out of the jeep with their weapons and to keep their eyes peeled for the helicopter. They did not need to wait long. The KPA's MD-500 came swooping out of the low lying clouds. It had spotted the van first and started to pepper it with shots from its gun, floor mounted and operated by one of the KPA's airmen. JJ and Victor had already got out of the van and were hunkered down underneath a tree which was behind the offside of the van. JJ's weapons would be useless to defend this attack, and Victor had his hands over his head, as if that would do much good if the airman got his eye in.

There wasn't much to an MD-500 but that was a double-edged sword. Its weapons were dated and lightweight but it was a small helicopter and a bit zippy, with a maximum speed of 175mph, difficult to hit. Lily had let loose a couple of rounds from his high-powered sniper's rifle but with no apparent results.

The KPA chopper was still focussed on the van. It came around for round two and the van's exterior had a few more ventilation holes in it. Fortunately, all eight tyres were intact and inflated. The attack helicopter did not make a third foray. The Iceman was on his game. The first launched grenade took out the chopper's gunman and the second one the rotor. The MD-500 burst into flames and ended up in a field a few hundred yards from the team. JJ and Victor got back in the van, this time JJ took the wheel. Jim had stayed in the jeep, protecting Ethel, and Lily and the Iceman got back in and stowed their weapons. There was no sign of pursuing Chinese jeeps from Songnim. They had given up the chase at Hwangu. Ten minutes to the border crossing, no time to lose.

It was still raining, with the preponderance of dark, grey low-lying cloud suggesting that there would be no let-up in the immediate future. The crossing would not be busy at this time of day. Most of the workers and transporters coming from South to North were still to pass later in the morning and those that were returning would not do so until the evening. This was an impossible crossing to storm. There were one hundred metres or so of black and yellow metal barriers before the actual border itself. These were intended to slow down approaching vehicles. There were armed soldiers on side walls just in case they didn't and more soldiers in little security glass-fronted boxes. The border military knew they may need to apprehend or kill some fugitives from justice, travelling in a big van and a jeep. JJ had anticipated as much and his plan for this stage of their escape was now in play.

Lily drove up to the side of the van and both vehicles proceeded at around 5mph towards the main crossing. The side wall DPRK guards had their weapons trained on the vehicles but did not fire. JJ had his right arm out of the van's window in a half gesture of surrender. Victor did the same with his left arm. Lily in the jeep adjacent followed suit. About ten yards from the line that separated North and South Korea, JJ stopped his van and Lily brought his jeep to a halt as well. JJ and Victor got out with their hands held aloft, showing clearly to the guards that they were not carrying weapons. Lily did the same. Two guards approached the van, rifles loaded and extended. They gestured to JJ and Victor to get on their knees. They did as ordered. Two further guards approached Lily. With hands aloft and still standing he began a conversation with the soldiers. At rifle point, Lily led the guards to the back of the jeep. He opened the door. The guards espied a huge pile of cash, and an unconscious woman. They also saw the barrels of Jim's SIG Sauer and the Iceman's rifle. Team PAU Travel had the drop on the guards. Lily kept talking. The DPRK border guards shouted for their colleagues guarding JJ and Victor to join them. As they turned behind the van and looked into the jeep, JJ took out his gun from the rear of his pants and had his Glock 17 nestling against the small of one of the guard's backs. Victor had his right forefinger nudging the back of the other guard. He shrugged at JJ, he had left his gun in his kit bag. The side wall guards could not make out what was going on. The MiG-29 that was flying overhead spotted that the fugitives seemed to be in the hands of the border guards so did not intervene. Lily continued to speak. Three of the four guards nodded and the fourth one just listened.

“JJ, it's OK for you to get back in the van. Victor get in the driver's side of the jeep and both of you drive at walking pace to the barrier. It will be up when you get there. I'll continue to walk behind the jeep with my new friends here,” said Lily.

JJ and Victor did as asked. The van and the jeep began to move very slowly. Lily and the four soldiers walked behind the jeep, whose rear door was still open. The guards had lowered their rifles but the Iceman and Jim Bradbury still had them solidly in their gun sights. As they crossed the border, van, jeep, guards and Lily kept going. While they would need to cross properly into South Korea in a few minutes, they were out of the jurisdiction of the DPRK. The van and jeep stopped. The guards put their rifles on the ground. Jim and the Iceman lowered their weapons but kept a hold of them.

JJ and Victor got out of the van and went to the rear of the jeep. The two of them and Lily handed each guard a wad of won. As part of the negotiation led by Lily, each guard received a packet of US$100 bills as well. They would now cross into South Korea together. Jim's colleagues at PAU, as well as waiting with an ambulance for Ethel also had cars available to take the now defecting North Korean military guards to the CIA offices in Seoul. They would be processed and allowed to stay after a comprehensive de-brief. The listening guard was the only one with close family in the North. Lily promised that he would arrange for them to be taken to a safe house in a rural area. Deep cover Kwon would then work his magic to get them across the border at a later date. At least 25,000 North Koreans had defected to the South, now there were four more.

Ethel may be unconscious in the back of a dilapidated, copycat North Korean jeep, but it was her idea to grease the palms of the willing that had seen them safely across the border. Top girl, thought JJ with deep feeling and the hint of a tear in his grey-green eyes.

“Where's the gold?” asked Ethel, weak but alive.

“It's in the van in one of Jim's locked up garages. The van's being re-painted and fixed up. A bit like yourself!” replied JJ, so glad that Ethel had survived and was recuperating on schedule. Ethel was in a private room at the Seoul National University Hospital (SNUH). After the border crossing, the paramedics and two CIA officers from PAU Travel had taken her straight there. She had an emergency operation on her shoulder, the bullet removed and a blood transfusion given. SNUH was the oldest and most respected hospital in Seoul with a busy and effective emergency department. After surgery she was transferred to the private room. Jim Bradbury had sorted out the paperwork and calmed down the local police. As KLO, he had done them a few favours in the past, now it was time to call in one of them. Two of the PAU Travel office's operatives were standing guard at Ethel's door. Probably not necessary, thought JJ and Jim, but just in case any North Korean undercover types or all too nosey paparazzi were floating about, it seemed reasonable to take the precaution.

“I don't remember much, JJ, after shooting that guard at Songnim. Is everybody OK?” asked Ethel, struggling to get comfortable with her gammy shoulder and multitude of tubes attached to her.

“Everybody's fine,” replied JJ with a smile. “A few cuts and bruises, and Jim's got a gowping throat where one of the soldiers tried to strangle him, the way he tells it.”

“Victor?” asked Ethel, needing to know some more detail about her CI and mission ward.

“Victor's great, Ginger,” said JJ. “He's knackered in body, mind and soul but he was brilliant. He was here until about an hour ago. You were asleep. I sent him to his hotel so he could just conk out.” Ethel nodded weakly, she could be drifting in and out of complete consciousness for a while due to the meds she was on and the trauma her body had experienced.

“How did we get through the border crossing at Kaesŏng, was there another firefight?”

“It's involved. I don't want to wear you out with all the details. Suffice to say that it was your idea to bribe the guards that got us across. You were absolutely fabulous Ginger, so rest and recover,” encouraged JJ. “You're going to have to stay here a while. Your shoulder is a bit of a mess and although the doctors expect a near full recovery it will take time, rest, physio, the whole works. Victor is going to stay with you, here in Seoul, until you can travel back to London in comfort. He doesn't want to see a safe for a while.”

“He's a good boy,” said Ethel, not in the frame of mind to argue or physically ready for a long conversation.

“I'll square things with your people in the force and your husband. You can call them from here but I'll go see them anyway,” said JJ.

“Thanks,” replied Ethel.

“I'll need to get back to London, sharpish, Ginger,” continued JJ, desperate to see Cyrus and needing to get the rest of the mission back on track.

“I know, JJ, I hope it turns out as planned.”

“It probably won't Ginger but I'll give it a go. In case I forget to tell you, or you wake up one morning wondering why you've got a hole in your shoulder, when I return to London I'll get the money transferred to your offshore account.”

“£250,000?” interrupted Ethel, clearly her brain didn't have a hole in it.

“More like a few million. You can thank Victor for that too since he was the one whose idea it was to purloin some cash,” replied JJ.

“Oooh…” said Ethel enthusiastically. “Maybe I can afford triplets!” They both laughed. It was more painful for one of them, as was the gentle hug that JJ gave Ethel.

JJ had a lot on his mind, but as he left Ethel's room, he turned, waved and said, “See you soon, top girl.”

JJ left the hospital and got in a cab for PAU Travel in Gangnam. The journey would not take long, maybe twenty minutes. Enough time to get his priorities in order, he thought. First, was a call to Cyrus and Gil. He hadn't been in touch for a couple of days and they would be worried about him as he was about them. Second, he needed to call the shit faced asshole known as Neil Robson. The plan had been revised, no petrol tankers with liquid gold in them so Robson was going to need to organise alternative air transport to get van, gold and cash back to the UK. Then he'd need to phone Fathead, get him prepped for the complex task ahead of selling a van load of bullion and to check that he wasn't being missed too much at MAM. Last but not least, JJ hoped that he'd see Carolyn at PAU Travel. They'd been estranged for a long time but the dinner they had before he went North had been good and, he hoped, began to re-establish a solid bond with his daughter.

* * *

“Commander,” said Garrison Whitton walking briskly to the conn.

“Gary,” responded O'Neill who looked up from the map that he and Evan Harris were studying, beginning to plot their route to Scotland.

“We have a problem, Sir,” said Whitton.

“What kind of problem, Gary?” responded the SEALs team leader.

“I think you'd better come with me Sir,” replied Whitton, barely waiting for his commander's agreement before heading off. O'Neill followed the young medic a few seconds behind.

“We found him, Sir, a stowaway, in the goat locker,” said Whitton, pointing to a small oriental fellow in the uniform of a Korean People's Navy seaman. He currently seemed to be a little taller as Billy Smith had him hoisted by his shirt front against one of the submarine's interior panels. O'Neill's face was a picture, not a Van Gogh, more like one of those disturbed Francis Bacon efforts.

“What's he doing on my sub, in my quarters?” O'Neill asked, feeling really agitated but just about managing to keep it under control.

“He must have been on the sub, when we took it,” ventured Billy Smith, trying to be helpful but surely stating the bleedin' obvious.

“We haven't a clue what he's saying, commander,” added Whitton. “He's been mumbling away in Korean, doesn't appear to speak any English. The only word we can make out is ‘Kim'.”

“That'll narrow it down to a few billion,” interjected Smith, not really upping the quality of his contributions to the problem solving. Mark O'Neill was thinking. It would be a bit much just to shoot the Korean, he thought, but they could not take him back to Haeju, albeit that they weren't that far away, they couldn't surface and they did not have enough food for themselves for the journey to Scotland, let alone to feed a random Kim on board. O'Neill had not reached a conclusion when Garrison Whitton piped up again.

“The problem may be worse, Sir. The stowaway's sweating away, keeps pointing to his head as if it's sore. I quickly took his temperature once Billy had subdued him. It's 102˚F. It could be something straightforward but it might not be. I've only limited medical equipment with me but I can do some investigation.”

“Do it Gary, and let me know as soon as you have an idea. In the meantime, isolate the Kim and get Ding to start disinfecting the living quarters. Billy, if he's got the pox you might have it too, so don't go wandering anywhere around the sub. Stay here,” said O'Neill.

“Yes, Sir,” responded Billy Smith, pushing the KPN man a little harder into the sub's panels, clearly not happy that he may have been exposed to some Korean lurgy.

“Billy,” said O'Neill.

“Sir?” Smith responded.

“Lower the fellow down to his full, short, height. I don't suppose he deliberately got himself sick.”

“Yes, Sir,” replied Smith, letting Kim go. Mark O'Neill returned swiftly to the conn to consult with his number two, Evan Harris. Whitton was on his laptop, searching for possible contenders for Kim's sickness, Ding was disinfecting the living quarters, made slightly more complex because Kim had now vomited on the floor and on Billy Smith's boots.

“Evan,” began O'Neill. “We've got an issue. The gist of it is that we have a KPN stowaway on board, who can't speak a word of English, and who has a fever of some sort. Gary is investigating. While he's doing that, you need to check if there's anywhere we can safely surface without detection. We may need to get him off the sub.” Evan Harris took it in. No time for questions, he went back to his map, but shifted his focus a lot closer to their current position than Scotland. O'Neill had instructed Tony Fairclough and David McCoy to slow the borey's speed. He didn't go into a detailed explanation, after all it may be a storm in a teacup, but he also didn't want the submarine to be going at full pelt if they had to change their target destination. Gary Whitton returned to the conn to find O'Neill. The commander saw him coming.

“Gary, any news?”

“My preliminary research suggests it might be measles, Sir. He's got a rash, headache, joint pain, I think, and his temperature is still rising,” said Whitton.

“That's not the end of the world, then, is it?”

“No, Sir, if it's measles, he'll be laid low for a few days, then probably recover,” agreed Whitton.

“I was thinking more about the infection risk to the rest of us, Gary,” pointed out O'Neill.

“I'll check with the men as to who has and who has not had measles, Sir, and report back,” said Whitton as he was departing the conn. O'Neill turned his attention to Harris and his map.

“The problem may not be as big as we thought Evan, but did you come up with anything?” asked O'Neill.

“Our current position is not that far from Jejudo Island, Mark. It's a volcanic island off the south coast of South Korea. It's not active from the lava-chucking perspective but it does have a relatively new naval base and it's in friendly waters,” replied Harris. Mark O'Neill nodded, that was a good find he thought even if, in all probability, they wouldn't need it now. That thought hadn't fully crystallised in Mark O'Neill's mind, when Gary Whitton came running back onto the conn.

“Sir,” he said.

“It's not measles. The Kim's blood pressure is really low and he's bleeding from his nose. I plugged all of the symptoms into my medical app, Sir,” said Whitton.

“What is it, then?” snapped O'Neill, clearly anxious to be in the know.

“I can't be certain, commander, but it may be Dengue Fever, and the stowaway may have gone into Dengue shock syndrome already.”

“Is he going to die, is the crew at risk?” asked O'Neill.

“Without proper medical treatment he will probably die in a few days. Statistically, there is a low probability of the crew catching the fever, but…”

“But what?” interjected O'Neill, with no patience to listen to a long, drawn out medical theory.

“The Kim's been in the goat locker for a while, he's drunk our water, he's thrown up over our floor and Billy Smith's boots, his body fluids are, not to put too fine a point on it, leaking everywhere,” elaborated Witton. “The incubation period for this kind of fever has a modal time of three to six days, Sir. If any of the crew have been infected they will likely be very sick and rendered helpless well before we reach our destination.”

“Well that's just fine and fucking dandy!” said O'Neill with feeling. “Sorry Gary, not your fault, sometimes it's tough being the messenger,” he quickly added, placing his hand on the medic's shoulder.

“Sir?” said Whitton.

“Yes, Gary,” responded O'Neill.

“I suggest I check all the crew's temperatures regularly, at least twice a day. Along with a headache that will be the first symptom. Me, you, Billy Smith and Ding are the most likely to be at risk because we've been closest to the stowaway. We shouldn't risk the water, Sir. I know that just adds to the problem, but even on the low probability that it can be transmitted that way, it is a contamination risk.”

“Thanks, Gary,” said O'Neill. “Check the crew's temperatures. You may as well tell them why while you're at it. They'll know about the sick gook soon enough in any case.”

“Yes, Sir,” replied Whitton. The young medic then left. His role on this mission had suddenly been catapulted up the essential list. Mark O'Neill sat down next to Evan Harris. He didn't want to chat straightaway, he was thinking. Bonnie Scotland wasn't looking as close as it seemed an hour or so ago. Sick stowaway, can't drink the water, not enough food, and maybe not enough crew. This was a bag of laughs – not.

“Mark, what's the plan?” asked Evan Harris.

“The plan, Evan, is in its formative stages, as those war game wankers at the DoD would say when they haven't a clue. I haven't a clue just now. Let's take a look at that volcanic island of yours.”

Jejudo Island is de facto one of South Korea's nine provinces, being coterminous with Jejudo province. It lies in the Korean Strait. It is volcanic but dormant, with a population of over half a million. Of most interest to Mark O'Neill, however, was that in 2007 the South Korean government designated Gongjeong, a village on the southern coast of the island to be the site of a new naval base. This base was intended to house twenty warships including submarines. The locals were not that happy about it and there were several protests including sit-ins and attempts to disrupt construction. The protests continued on the ground and in the law courts for several years as the issue became a cause celebre for many of the island's residents and its supporters. The naval facility, however, was now sufficiently completed that a Russian Borei class nuclear submarine could dock there, if required.

Jejudo Island was approximately 480km from the docks at Haeju. O'Neill and Harris reckoned that they could easily get there in ten hours, that wouldn't be a problem. What would, however, is that they would be required to inform the South Korean authorities that they would need access to the base.
Let's not get premature on that
thought O'Neill,
we'll wait for a further update from young Whitton
. The update was not long in coming but it was not what O'Neill wanted to hear.