by Glen Robins
“One bullet cracked a rib back here,” I said, trying to point my cuffed finger at my left side. “One hit my back between my shoulder blade and my spine. The third hit my chest, right above the heart.”
“You must have experienced a great deal of pain. How did you manage to get away?”
“Part of our training included learning to suppress pain and stay in the moment until the mission was completed. I reloaded, called in for support to retrieve my fallen men, and guarded them until help arrived. I simply finished the mission as best I could.”
“You’re saying that the fact that you survived, were able to escape without leaving your men behind, and took out several enemy combatants didn’t sway any on that tribunal?”
I waited a beat or two before I answered. “It would have been wrong in our culture to bring up the fact that my CO, who reported to a major general who reported to my father, had ordered the hurried evacuation of those potential asylum-seekers. Any hint that we walked into an ambush would have destroyed the careers of my superiors as well as my own. I felt that was unnecessary.”
“Your father . . . he has a reputation for being a hard-liner, doesn’t he? He wants to eliminate the threat of North Korean aggression, doesn’t he?”
“In a way, that is true. He takes a hardline approach in the public eye. That’s why they are keen on rescuing asylum seekers—it provides intel we can’t get any other way. But the truth is, he wants reunification. He pushes hard as a negotiation tactic. You have to understand: his family was torn in two when the Allies and the Chinese drew the border along the 38th parallel. His father and uncles were on the wrong side of the line when the border went up. My grandmother used to speak very reverently about them. We all know, however, that they were likely put to death shortly after Kim Il-Sung rose to power in the North.”
“But your father’s approach in the public eye has been . . .”
“That we need to eliminate the nuclear option, at any cost.”
“Even if that means full-scale war?”
“That’s the public perception.”
“What’s the truth, then?”
“The truth is, there are many who support him politically. He is a military man and believes that everything has a military solution. This invokes a certain nationalistic pride in many, thus winning him support.”
Robinson paused again, eyeing me warily. “Your actions that night reflected badly on him, didn’t they?”
“You can say that. Really, it was the outcome that hurt him. A family trying to escape North Korea—dead. Eleven men in a twelve-man squadron—dead. The son of a high-ranking general—alive and in need of rescue deep inside the DMZ. It all looked bad. Although there was only limited media coverage, what they did speculate was that I had foolishly and haphazardly tried to save a family that made an unwise choice and had risked the lives of my men to do it.”
Robinson squinted and rubbed his jaw. “You took the fall for your CO so there would be no backsplash on him or your father. You were the scape goat and made to look ‘foolish’ or ‘unsuspecting’ when you were just following orders.”
“The words they used to describe me were ‘unfit for leadership due to his penchant for self-aggrandizement over the needs of those in his command.’”
“You were stripped of your command and dishonorably discharged. Did I read that right?”
I took a deep breath. My jaw clenched tight, as did my fists. Hearing those words always produced a visceral reaction. To Robinson, I responded with a simple nod.
“Why the exile?”
I let out the breath I was holding. “Honor. Staying in Seoul would bring nothing but shame to my family. Plus, I would never find employment—anywhere. There was enough media coverage to make my name and face recognizable to most. If they missed it on TV, all they had to do was look into my background to see the dishonorable discharge. In Korea, that’s it. Game over.”
“Why did you go to Thailand, of all places?”
All of these questions were wasting valuable time. They had nothing to do with the suitcase and finding out what was inside or what the two guys were doing with it or where it was now, but I knew I had to play nice. I could sense Robinson probing to figure out what kind of person I really was. He came in thinking I was a lunatic, but somewhere along the line, his impression of me started to shift. The way his tone of voice gradually changed felt like he was beginning to accept that I was in possession of my faculties after all, so I continued trying to earn his trust. “My high school friend’s father knew a guy who had repatriated there during the Vietnam war. The guy made a fortune providing logistical support and supplies to NATO units throughout the region during the war, under the radar. After that, he went into the import-export business. After graduation from high school, he had introduced me to him, so I already had a relationship with him. I contacted him after the trial, and he offered me a job.”
“Then you married his daughter?”
Robinson had the basics of my file pretty well covered.
“With his blessing, of course. We had known each other for a while already.”
“Then you all moved to Orange County?”
Again, I nodded. “His idea, not mine.”
“Where he continued in the import-export business, but you chose to split off and start teaching Tae Kwon Do?”
“My skills are better suited to combat than business, so it seemed a more natural fit.”
“You’ve been quite successful at it, I see. Your students have won three national competitions in the past five years.”
Once again, I acknowledged his compliment with a slight bow of the head.
“And today you were on your way to an invitational competition, were you not?”
“Yes,” I said. “The world championship in Seoul takes place in two days.”
A knock at the door interrupted our little fact-finding session. Robinson stepped out. When he returned, his face was all tight. He shook his head as he looked down at my file.
“Well,” Robinson said as he moved around the end of the table. “You must still have some friends in high places. Your ride will be here shortly.”
I must have looked confused. He stopped, keeping an eye on me.
“A car from the Korean Embassy is on its way to take you into custody and transport you back to your country.”
My bewildered expression only deepened.
“This comes down from the highest levels within our government. I don’t have the authority to hold you any longer. ‘Diplomatic immunity’, they said.” He walked around behind me and unlocked the handcuffs. As I rubbed my wrists, he congratulated me. “You’re a free man, Mr. Noh. It pays to know people in high places. What, with an election coming up in your country and your father as the leading candidate, I guess it’s no surprise.”
Chapter 14
Laguna Niguel, California
June 5, 2:18 p.m.
Stephanie burst through the side door, the one located around the corner from the garage and that led into the mud room. From there, a short hallway lined with pantry cupboards spilled out to an open-concept kitchen fully equipped with the latest appliances and stylish accoutrements. The kitchen/family room area was bright and cheery, in stark contrast to her facial expression.
Stephanie’s mother stood at the oversized sink built into the large granite-topped island, peeling carrots. From her vantage point, she could see the driveway and approach through a large set of gridded double-hung windows to her left. They were opened slightly to allow the breeze to flow through the house. Unfazed by Stephanie’s harried entrance, Anna Choi set her peeler aside, wiped her hands on a nearby towel, and came around the corner of the island with her arms outstretched. “How’s my big boy?” she cooed at Matthew.
Matthew stopped his squawking and leaned toward his grandmother with a joyful smile spreading across his face and his arms open wide.
Relieved of both the physical and emotional burden of an unhappy boy, Stepha
nie set her bulging diaper bag on the long, black-stained pine table and let out a sigh.
“What is it, dear?” her mother asked as Matthew wrapped his arms around her neck and squeezed. Anna’s jet-black hair had only recently become adorned with a smattering of grey strands. It was pulled in a ponytail in back and covered with a flowery silk bandana on the top. Her face radiated serenity and contentment as she returned Matthew’s hug. She planted a series of rapid-fire kisses on his cheek before adding, “You look like you’ve seen Krasue,” she said, referring to the gruesome apparition of a female head spoken of in Thai tradition.
Stephanie stopped in her tracks and gave her mother a look of exasperation tinged with fright.
“What’s going on, Stephanie?” her mother asked again.
Tears welled up in Stephanie’s eyes as she contemplated what she should say in front of her son. “It’s Jeong Tae, Mother. There’s something going on and I don’t know what to do. I need to talk to Pappa. Maybe he’ll have an idea.”
“Let’s put a movie on for Matthew in the meeting room while we talk to him. Come on.” Anna led the way back through the mud room, out the door through which they had just entered, and walked along a flower-bordered stone pathway that curved through a clump of shimmering willows to the two-story edifice known as the office. In truth, it was a combination warehouse, workshop, storage building, and, upstairs, a properly appointed office space for her dad, whom everyone called “Sunny.”
The “meeting room” was an open space adjacent to a Sunny’s office. An oblong cherrywood table circled with high-backed leather chairs the color of burnt butter occupied most of the area. One wall was mostly a picture window that looked out over the warehouse and workshop. The other wall was partially taken up by the door through which they had entered and a fake tree in the corner.
The far wall was encased with cherry wood cabinetry and shelving full of books and nick knacks collected during a lifetime of exotic travel. Stephanie opened the cabinet doors to reveal a large flat screen TV. She cued up a streaming animated movie, one of Matthew’s favorites, while her mother bounced Matthew in her arms and sang a familiar happy Thai song Stephanie remembered from her childhood. Matthew giggled with each bounce and silly lyric.
Sunny’s office walls were half glass, half drywall. Sunny stood near his desk and watched his wife, daughter, and grandson with a bemused smile as he held a phone to his ear with one hand and signaled with the other for them to give him one minute.
Sunny had salt and pepper hair that reached to his shoulders and a mostly gray goatee. His typical attire, rain or shine, was a pair of shorts—sometimes plaid, sometimes khaki, sometimes cargo—with either a T-shirt or, if he was dressing up, a short-sleeved button-up with a flower print. On his feet, he wore either sandals, flip-flops, or, in cold weather, low-cut lightweight athletic shoes or fur-lined slippers. Comfort was king with Sunny Choi.
When Anna’s song was over and the movie was ready, Matthew turned his attention to the screen and clapped his hands as his grandmother lowered him into a chair specially prepared for him with a booster seat on it. Stephanie set a sippy cup and a covered bowl of goldfish crackers on the table in front of him, but he didn’t notice, he was so enthralled with the opening scene.
Sunny opened the door wide and his arms wider. Stephanie moved in for an embrace, which he gave with enthusiasm. “How’s my girl?” he asked buoyantly. Whenever he sensed tension or sadness, Sunny “let the sun in,” as he often exclaimed. His exuberance for life was contagious. Everyone who knew him loved to be around him for that very reason. Sunny lived up to his name.
“Daddy, there’s something wrong. I think JT’s in trouble,” Stephanie blurted, her face still pressed against his shoulder.
“Let’s figure out what we know and what we can do, OK? Tell me everything.”
It didn’t take long for Stephanie to divulge every shred of the scant information she had learned from Jin Sook about JT’s situation and the phone call with JT’s father. There were large gaps in the puzzle, but this didn’t bother Sunny much.
Sunny curled his lower lip as he turned toward his office. His smile faded and his “business face” emerged. “Hmm. That’s not much to go on, but maybe someone at the embassy can tell us something.” He pulled his smart phone from his pocket and spoke to it, asking it to look up and dial the Korean Embassy in Los Angeles. “I still know a few people over there.”
Chapter 15
Interrogation Room, Los Angeles Airport Police Station
June 5, 2:25 p.m.
Robinson held the door open for me, but I didn’t move. I stood there at the table rubbing my wrists and staring at the thick file. That file represented everything the US government thought they knew about me based on my history and past performance. That collection of papers and pictures and information, however, did not define me. There was more to me than they could ever read.
Robinson cocked his head. “I said you were free to go. Don’t you—”
“You have pictures of all your airport employees?” I asked, tapping my index finger on the table.
“Yeah, it’s part of the security protocol—”
“Good,” I interrupted. “I need to see all your baggage handlers.”
Confusion swept over Robinson’s face. “What’s this all about?”
“I need to see all the baggage handlers,” I repeated. “One of them looked familiar to me. In fact, he recognized me instantly. Now I know how. In any case, he is involved in this. I’d be willing to bet he knows something that could help us.”
“What are you talking about, Mr. Noh? Your ride is here. Two young men drove all the way from the Korean Embassy downtown to pick you up. You don’t want to keep them waiting.”
I dismissed the part about my ride waiting for me with a wave of my hand. “You want to figure out what happened here today, don’t you?”
“Yes, of course.”
“You want to do everything you can to provide for the safety of every passenger that departs from this airport, right?”
“Yes, that’s my job. What are you getting at?”
“I’m sure you’re good at your job, but I believe you’re going to need my help. I am pretty good at what I was trained to do, as well. I’m more than just a brave soldier, Mr. Robinson. I was trained to protect and defend my country and my people. I was trained to understand my enemy, to think like my enemy, and to understand my enemy’s motivations. I’d like to help you, if you’ll allow me.”
Robinson opened his mouth, then closed it. His eyebrows scrunched together, and his eyes squinted at me.
I continued. “You’re going to need all the help you can get to determine if there’s something dangerous on that plane or not. I’m uniquely suited for this task.”
“I’m afraid it would be impossible—”
“Nothing is impossible if you set your mind to it. If you need some sort of official authorization, I’m certain we can go through the proper channels to get it. Considering the potential national security risk and PR nightmare at play, I think it’s worthwhile to think outside the box, don’t you?”
“Well, I suppose—”
“Good. Let’s go make some phone calls and find those pictures. Where are the two men from the embassy? I’d like to speak to them.”
Robinson paused; a look of consternation etched in his facial features. “Moments ago, you were on your way to indictment for breaching national security. A no-brainer. All kinds of eyewitnesses. Now I’m letting you go because I was told to let you go because of your diplomatic immunity. Got any more curve balls for me today, Mr. Noh?”
I returned Robinson’s quizzical stare. “I’m telling you, that man from the cargo hold knows me and I’m pretty sure I know him. He was there that night between the fences. I know he was. And I know he knows who I am. You should’ve seen the shock on his face.”
He shook his head. “There’s no precedent for something like this.”
“I know. You ne
ed to trust me.”
“Why would I trust you? Why do you think I’d let you be a part of my investigation or spend one more minute in here with me?”
“I’m invested in the outcome. Remember, I know people onboard that plane. Is that not reason enough to trust me, especially knowing my background as you do? Without me, you have little or no chance of finding these guys or figuring out what the danger might be in time.”
“Ha.” Robinson’s hand shot to his hips. “Aren’t you an arrogant son of a—”
“No, sir,” I interrupted. “The word you’re looking for is ‘confident.’ I am confident I can help. I am capable, well-trained, and have a lot to lose if my hunch is right and there’s something dangerous on that aircraft. You have a lot to lose, too, if I’m right about this.”
“Your daddy pulled some strings for you—with some very powerful people, I might add—to get you off the hook. Now you’re asking me to break more rules to let you work on the investigation? You’re nuts, Mr. Noh. Plain and simple.”
There was more that he wasn’t saying, but I picked up on it.
I shook my head slowly. I held his gaze while my jaw muscles twitched. “I told you, I don’t want or need my father to pull strings for me. I’m not interested in doing the easy thing. I’m interested in doing the right thing. Sixteen of my students are onboard that plane. I believe it is headed for destruction. We need to work together. I am offering my services in order to save my students and all those people on that plane. Is that clear enough for you? Is that noble enough for you to trust me?”
I realized it probably sounded far-fetched. But I was sure I was right and neither of us could afford to underestimate the potential threat.
“Problem is, Mr. Noh, there’s no evidence, remember? We searched the plane, rechecked every bag on it. There was nothing. Nothing at all. I can’t very well launch an investigation and use up valuable resources chasing something that doesn’t exist.”
