North Korean Blowup (11 page)

A detailed map of the northern part of North Korea flashed on a large screen.

“Lieutenant Hunter. Just where do you want to land?”
               Hunter pointed to an area just below Sinuiju off Korea Bay in northern Korea only a few miles from the Chinese border.

“It looks like a marshy place here along the coast about here where there shouldn’t be many people. This map shows a highway along here heading into Sinuiju up the road about twenty miles. If we can get in close with our IBS and then swim on in, we should be able to get on shore without being seen.”

“So like before, we get to the twelve mile limit and send out a pair of IBSs to take you into a quarter of a mile of the beach?” Commander Vuylsteke asked.

“Right, Commander. If there’s any enemy action, we can exit the SBI four or five miles out and swim in. That cold water will take a strain on us, but we can manage it.”

“The North K’s must not have much in the way of patrol boats up that far north,” Quinn said. “At least we hope they don’t. What are they protecting up there?”

“So when do we leave?” Commander Vuylsteke asked.

Quinn looked at Hunter.

“We get the weapons, then whenever the tailor shop can get our soccer uniforms ready. We’ll want them in water tight containers with tie on straps. We’ll leave the destroyer at 2300 so we can make landfall just about midnight. That gives us some time to get on shore and adjusted and maybe find some transport before daylight.”

“I’ll figure out the time to pick up with our chopper. We’ll send one from Commander Well’s ship too to take all seventeen of you out to the ship. Mr. Quinn. Will you be going on the insertion?”

“Yes. I want to be close at hand in case we need any SATCOM contact.”

Tran came bursting into the room his floppy hat askew. He looked at Quinn.

“The master sergeant in charge at the tailor shop said under no circumstances could he make us soccer uniforms.”

CHAPTER NINE

Quinn stared at Tran in surprise. “This master sergeant said what?”

“He yelled at me and said under no circumstances would his tailor shop make seventeen soccer uniforms.”

“We’re through here,” Quinn said. “About time I had a chat with this sergeant. Lead the way, Tran.”

A few minutes later Tran, Soc Ho, and Quinn went in the building marked Base Tailor Shop. It was a medium sized room with a counter across the front like many small stores. An airman second class sat behind the counter and looked up.

“You’re back,” the airman said. “Sarge is gonna say the same damn thing.”
               “Get him out here,” Quinn said.

The airman frowned. “I usual don’t take orders from civilians.” He looked at Tran. “Who the hell is this guy?”

“Young man, just go get your sergeant and don’t get into any more trouble than you’re in now. Move.”

The airman shrugged, eased off the chair and went through a door in back. Less than a minute later a six-foot four body with master sergeant strips on its sleeve banged through the door. He stared right at Tran.

“Look, kid. I don’t care who the hell you are I don’t do free lance jobs like that for anybody without my major’s approval. Which you ain’t got.” He looked at Quinn. “Who’s this guy?”

“Sergeant, get your major on the telephone, right now,” Quinn snapped.

“Hell no. I can tell a con when I see one.”

Quinn took out his billfold and pulled out a red card about twice the size of a business card. It was bright red with black lettering. He showed it to the sergeant.

“Read this, Sergeant,” Quinn said.

The sergeant began reading out loud. “This is a standing order that Doyle Quinn who is carrying this card has carte blanche with any United States government agency or any branch of the Armed Forces, and any request made by this person shall be carried out immediately. Any non compliance will be dealt with most severely.” The sergeant stopped.

“Oh god. It’s signed by the president of the United States.” He stared at it a moment longer. Quinn had not let go of the card. He returned it to his billfold.

“Now, Sergeant, do you wish to call your major or can you take care of this rush project immediately?”

“Holy shit,” the Sergeant said. His eyes went wide for a moment, then he slammed his fist down on the counter.

“Henderson, get on this right away. Do it now.”

“Sergeant, we need these uniforms by eighteen hundred today,” Quinn said.

“But I have only two seamstresses.”

“Bring in half a dozen more. A great deal is riding on this, and your help is appreciated. Mr. Ho here will tell you exactly what he wants. The Korean script logo can be simple, but on the back of every tee shirt.”

Soc Ho took a pen and pad of paper and put down the Korean symbols the wanted on the shirts. They made up two words.

“Yes, we can do Tee shirts and  long shorts. Damn, what color? Anything but blue. We have some green and put on the logo with silk screen in black ink. I know a printer. Shorts, shorts. I think we have some green ones, if not we’ll get some from the uniform and wardrobe section. I better get busy. You said eighteen hundred.”

“Yes, Sergeant. And what is your name?”
               “Halverson, sir.”

“Good. Sergeant Halverson. Have them ready by eighteen hundred.” Quinn looked at Tran. “Tran, you and Ho stay here and shepherd this through. See you back at the barracks with the goods.”

“Aye, aye, Mr. Quinn.”

When Quinn left the building, the sergeant shook his head. “Holy shit, who is that man? Who are you guys?”
               “Just a G.I. trying to get his job done, Sergeant. The uniforms?”

The rest of the morning the platoon drew ammo and chose hide outs that would be strapped to their ankles. There were only three foreign made models in the arsenal. After kicking around the benefits and drawbacks of each, the platoon chose the H&K HK4, a 9mm model with eight rounds in the magazine.

“I like it,” Beth said. “It just fits my hand and the recoil can’t be all that great. How many magazines do we get with each pistol?”

They settled on two mags, since it would be an emergency weapon and not for sustained shooting. The pistol was about half the weight of the other hand gun.

Chief Lawrence chose a H&K MP-5 submachine gun for Soc Ho. He figured the big man would like it. He took four extra magazines for it.

 They used the pickup Quinn still had to haul the ammo back to the barracks. They had brought their weapons, the H&K sniper, the H&K MP-5, and the H&K 21A1 machine gun in 7.62 NATO round. Six times the normal ammo draw for their combat vests and for the MG belts of rounds made the springs on the pickup sag.

Right after chow served to them in their barracks by a mobile kitchen, the troops took another Korean language session. Some of the men caught on quickly, others were plodding. Most hoped they never had to use the language at all.

“You get in a tight spot knowing just a few words of Korean could save your skin,” the instructor told them. He was Korean and spoke English perfectly. “Now, we’ll have a little role playing. I want two men up here who aren’t too good with the language.”

Quinn watched for a while, and then took a pickup ride to the base Commander’s office. It was a courtesy call he should have made the first day they arrived. He’d been too busy.

               The Air Force one star General nodded curtly at Quinn when a pretty first lieutenant announced him.

“Yes, Mr. Quinn. Heard you would be here. So far you haven’t disrupted my work too much. Are you getting everything that you need?”
               “Yes, general. Lots of cooperation. We’ll be out of your hair here in less than twenty-four.”

“Whatever you need. I’ve had my orders right from the top. You can have anything you want on base outside of a nuclear weapon.”

               “It’s running well, General. Right now we’re waiting for seventeen soccer uniforms, then we’ll be set.”

The general frowned. “Soccer uniforms. From the tailor shop.” He shook his head. I don’t know what you’re doing, and I don’t want to know. Best of luck in your operation.”

“Thank you, General. I’ll be around a few more days, but our men will be moving out tomorrow. Thanks for the help.”

Quinn almost saluted, refrained and turned and walked out the door. Top brass like that still made him nervous. Made him think that he was till a lowly corporal and scared spit less whenever any officer over the rank of first lieutenant looked his way.

The language class ended at fifteen hundred and Hunter had them put on their combat vests with full ammo load and their assigned weapons for a hike. Chief Chapman dug out a spare combat vest for Beth and gave her a MP-5 he had picked up at the armory for her. She went on the march with the rest of them.

They double timed around the perimeter of the base fence for a mile, and then settled into a ground eating march that took them another six miles before they came back to the barracks.

“I feel like I’m in training for another Iron woman Triathlon,” Beth said. “Only no swimming.”

The chow had been delayed until they got back and had their showers, then they ate. Tran and Soc Ho came back half way through the meal, each carrying a big bundle of uniforms, half of them packaged in waterproof plastic.

Quinn ate quickly, and then called the embassy. He talked with Chalmers, a journalist coordinator at the embassy and also the head CIA man in Korea.

“Quinn, good to hear from you. A signal said you would be in the area. Everything moving along for you?”

“All in place, so far. How are my eleven Korean friends doing? Did they all get their passports and are they scheduled to fly out for the States yet?”

       “Small hold up at Immigration, but they should be cleared by tomorrow. Then they’ll fly out the next day. An interesting group but I have no need to know who or what they are. Let me know if you need anything, like a good steak dinner.”
      “Doing fine here. Checked in with the general, so I have that deed done. Take care of those eleven Koreans. They have done our country a high priority service.”

“Done and done. Call me again before you leave.”

Quinn’s next call went to Commander Vuylsteke who was in the BOQ waiting for his alert.

“Commander, we’ve put all the pieces together. How long will it take you to steam up to China?”

“We plotted it out and we’ll need about eight hours. Hunter said he wanted to cast off at 2300 in the IBS, so we should be getting under way from the dock at fourteen hundred. I’ll have two Seahawks here on the pad at thirteen thirty to transport your men and equipment to my ship.”

“Sounds good, Commander. That’s for tomorrow. We’ll see your Seahawks here at the chopper pad at thirteen-thirty.”

Quinn told the SEALs the schedule. They had been wearing one set of their North Korean clothes all day. Quinn called over Soc Ho.

“Check out the clothes. If anything will look strange in the north, take the man back to the uniform store and get something that will pass muster.”

Ho grinned. “Okay, okay. Right now.” He worked the room, watching the men as they cleaned weapons and checked their combat vests. They would wear them under the loose fitting North Korean shirts. Ho found two outfits that he didn’t like. He showed Quinn.

“Do it tomorrow, too late tonight.”

“Yes yes, tomorrow.”

Beth Darby walked over to Hunter’s bunk and frowned at him.

He looked up. “Hey, just thought about it. You don’t have to wear a combat vest if it’s too….too tight.”

She laughed. “That embarrassed you. It’s no problem. I’m not that busty to cause a problem.”

“They look fine to me.”

“Yeah, thanks. That’s what my two older brothers told me when they tried to catch me naked when we were growing up. They never did. Can we talk?”

“Sit down; just keep one foot on the floor.”

“I’ve heard that one before, too.” She turned more serious. “What are our odds of our making it out to the coast for a pick up?”

“Damn good. I’d say twenty to one we get there.”

“The NK’s are not going to be happy when we blow that first bomb.”

“True, then our real test starts. We’ll have to fight our way to the next stop.”

“What if we get a KIA?”

“We take him out with us. We don’t leave anyone behind.”

“Including me?”

“Especially you.” He shrugged. “Hey, I’m not worried about you. You did well on the range with both weapons. You’ll love the MP-5.”

“May I speak frankly?”
               “Please do.”

“I’m a little scared, like a lot. I’ve never been in a combat situation before. Sure I play with live nukes. That would scare the panties off lots of tough men. That I’m used to. Getting shot at isn’t.”

“We won’t have to worry about that for three or four more days. Then we take it as it comes.”

“Hey, I’ve never shot at anyone before. I’ve never killed anybody. Will I be able to do it if the time comes?”

“The best way to think about it is it’s either him dumped by the side of the road with three rounds in his heart, or it’s me dead and rotting in that same ditch. Him or me. If it comes to that, you’ll vote for yourself every time. Don’t worry about it. Probably never happen. If it does, you’ll do fine.”

Soft blue eyes had narrowed and she gave a sigh. “I hope to hell that I will.” She looked away, and when she looked back she had a hint of a grin. “How do you like my new hairdo?”
               Hunter laughed. “Forever female. Yes, it is right, it fits in and you won’t have to worry about keeping hair under cover.  And I like your sleek, slender figure. You’re still all girl even though you’re dressed like a SEAL and doing a man’s job. Begging the commander’s pardon. I sometimes forget that you outrank me.”

“Not on this mission, Hunter. You’re the boss. No rank here. I like that. What’s for tomorrow?”

More language lessons. Then a short hike, some chow, a required nap, and out to the chopper pad at thirteen thirty.”

She stood. “Thanks, Hunter. See you in the morning.” She walked through the row of bunks down to the room at the far end. The door even had a lock. She saw it was a bolt that evidently had been installed for her benefit. She paused and looked back at the SEALs. Girl, what have you let yourself in for? The President says he needs a favor and you jump at the chance. Now all you have to do is try to stay alive for the next week or so. Oh, and blow up two nukes on the way.