by A D Davies
By the time two soldiers rounded the door jamb and adopted shooting posts, Tane had positioned himself behind the biggest, sturdiest-looking machine in the place and Dan took Sally Garcia hostage. She was significantly smaller than him, so he used a bench as partial cover and bladed himself side-on, so she covered more of his body, leaving only the elbow of his gun hand exposed, along with the arm snaking around the professor. There may have been an inch or so of his head open to a shot from an expert marksman, but even he would struggle to make a kill like that.
Ah Dae-Sung joined the pair who’d taken point, keeping low himself, his gun at the ready—what looked like a Russian SR-1 Vektor. “Surrender now. We can put you to work instead of killing you.”
Dan half-expected Jules to come steamrollering over, but the two grunts remained at their post, AKMs prepped to spray, while their commander ventured forward.
Where was the other? The big guy?
For a moment, Dan worried Pang Pyong-Ho could flank them with a second unit, but the lab was sealed. They were stuck in here.
“Nowhere to go,” Dae-Sung said. “We can wait you out. Our plans will go ahead with you barricaded in here or locked in a cell. I do not care.”
Tane said, “Sally coming here really was a distraction, wasn’t it?”
Dae-Sung scoffed. “Of course. Did you seriously think you could infiltrate our most important facility without detection? I admit we were set up for a larger invasion. In fact, I am still unsure how you got so close. But you will tell me. In time.”
Dan felt ridiculous even before he said it, but he had to ask, “When? When did you pick us up?”
“When you crossed open land and broke in through the gate. Very brave. Foolish, but brave. This place might look like some Cold War relic, but we monitor everything. We lost you a few times but killing our guards at the bunker entrance did not go unnoticed.”
“Why not take us out there?” Tane demanded.
“We were interested in your plan. Perhaps your colored friend could offer something extra.”
It had been a while since Dan heard a term like “colored” to describe a black person. He supposed a country that was 99% indigenous wouldn’t be across all the preferred vernacular.
Dae-Sung went on. “We know he can manipulate certain elements that might be useful. Is he under one of these benches? Perhaps he’d like to join us. Certainly, he’d be of more use than—”
“He left,” Sally said. “Right before you got here.”
“Hmm.” Dae-Sung took a second to pull out a miniature walkie-talkie and speak rapid-fire Korean into it, before firming his grip on the Vektor. “He cannot stop what is to come.”
“And what is that?” Tane asked, gliding sideways to hamper the commander’s angle on him. “Crazy terrorists are still crazy terrorists, regardless of the scale.”
Smart, Dan saw. Keep him talking. Give the kid a head start.
“We will liberate all Koreans,” Dae-Sung said, holding his ground.
Tane steadied himself, lowering his stance, improving his sight of the soldier on the door to Dan’s left. Dan shifted left with Sally in place, keeping several pieces of equipment between them and Dae-Sung. On the surface he’d look like he was hiding deeper, but in reality, he had a clean shot at the guard on the right if he needed it. Once Dae-Sung left himself open, Dan and Tane could take down the two armed soldiers and cut down the commander in the crossfire.
Tane said, “Really? That’s your big vision? Take over the South and force them into the same isolation as this hellhole?”
“Not at all.” Dae-Sung peppered his tone with amusement. “The South will no longer be a vassal state of the USA. They will rise, independent and strong, and we will set our Northern Republic free from the grip of a dynasty that has held onto these people for decades. All people will share in the single, unified state. All people will work to bring glory and wealth to a unified Korea.”
“All people?” Dan said. “That sounds like maxed-out socialism. Hasn’t worked so well for you so far.”
“Americans.” Dae-Sung’s utterance dripped with disdain, as he’d heard people refer to the dumber side of the nation’s citizens. “You always mix up these political ideals. No, what the Republic of Korea has is not true socialism. There is no true socialist country anywhere in the world. No true communist country, either. And America is not some capitalist utopia. Absolutism is the enemy of progress, don’t you know?”
Dan couldn’t place the quote. Figured it didn’t matter. “What do you know about capitalism?”
“Enough. I know your politicians hate helping your people because this means those in power no longer look down upon them, like kings. But they embrace socialism when those kings are threatened. Your handouts to billionaire companies and banks when they are failing inside your stupid economic system… how is this different from the Russian government handing oil contracts to those who swear fealty to the powerful? How is cutting tax for the wealthiest so they can buy back their own stock options in any way creating jobs for the downtrodden?”
He laughed in the same condescending way Dan had heard many times in recent years as if those outside his country knew better than he did.
“You live in the world’s biggest oligarchy, my deluded friend. A system designed to keep the lowest castes in their place while being happy to remain there under the lie you call ‘freedom.’ We, on the other hand, live in the world’s biggest concentration camp. Our commandants are power-mad kings by any other name, and we suffer. Because, like you have been brainwashed to believe your king-run ‘capitalism’ is the bastion of freedom, our all-powerful kings have indoctrinated us to see them as protectors, as saviors. They need to hoard the wealth, the resources, and not share them with the people.”
Dan was itching to shoot this prick. He just needed one opening.
But Dae-Sung wasn’t done monologuing. Wasn’t done with what was clearly an attempt to stall them here. He said, “Two countries. Different lies—one a lie of freedom, the other of protection. The people are compliant here for two reasons: first, they know what I know… that the Americans would rather destroy our country than allow us a level playing field in international commerce, so we must protect ourselves. Second, if they endanger our country by dissenting, they will end up in a place like this. Protection first, then power. But under Executive Ryom’s leadership, they will fear nothing. They will work toward the greater good, shielded from America’s imperialist agenda, until the world comes to us and begs us to join them.”
“Ryom’s companies,” Tane said. “They’re embedded everywhere.”
“And this will give our people true freedom. Power to prevent invasion from the west, and leverage to engage diplomatically. Offer new and future allies protection from the Americans. All without a nuclear arms race that would destroy the world. We are saving the world.”
“Through death? Isolation? Don’t you see this puts your people in more danger?”
Dae-Sung ducked lower, silent for a moment, then returned to the men. “Enough. I believe they are ready to start.”
“Oh, that’s great,” Sally said. “Can we watch?”
“That’s what your nonsense speech was about?” Dan asked. “Delaying tactic?”
“Better than risking a shootout,” Dae-Sung said. “And it is not nonsense. I had hoped you would at least try to understand.”
Sally pawed at Dan’s tightening arm. “I asked them to keep an open mind.”
“But yes,” Dae-Sung said. “Keeping you contained is more important than killing you. And we’ll pick up your friend soon enough. So... enjoy your time with us. It’s going to last a while.”
“We’ll stop you,” Dan said.
Dae-Sung retreated, keeping solid objects between him and the guys. “Even if you succeed, you kill everyone here. So choose carefully.”
Sally said, “Wait, what about me?”
“Thank you for reminding me. Now we have what we need, her knowledge is more
useful to you than to us.” Dae-Sung checked where Tane was, then whipped up his pistol and fired three times.
Sally jerked with each slug. Dan felt a sharp tug at the side of his ribcage as one bullet cleaved through her, winging him. He dropped her and dove aside, ducking the hail of gunfire that followed.
At least Jules made it out. Hopefully, he was going with the promise they made earlier.
…if one of us gets caught, the others carry on…
Jules had been about to leave when the word “colored” fell from Dae-Sung’s lips. He’d promised, after all.
…if one of us gets caught, the others carry on…
He wasn’t one that was easy to rile when it came to racial slurs. Often, the point of the language was to get a rise out of the target of the abuse, so there was a line to walk between standing up for oneself and depriving the abuser of power. In Ah Dae-Sung’s case, Jules suspected it was more of an ignorance thing. Less common today, but he’d heard predominantly old people use racially charged terms when they meant “black” or “African-American.”
This instance had been a good thing, in a way. It forced Jules to reconsider his egress. Besides, there were far more important things to be angry about right now. Like the threat to his friends’ lives.
Moments before Ah Dae-Sung came in with his guards, Jules had predicted the danger and hid under the desk that manned the regular checkpoint. The boots then marched past, and Jules expected the shooting to begin quickly. He would hit the emergency release button on this side of the decontamination unit and the gunfire would conceal his escape for a few minutes at least.
It didn’t happen. They talked instead.
Damn it, and I thought Valerio Conchin liked the sound of his own voice.
It became apparent that they were stalling.
Why?
With the sentries on the door focused inside, and with Dae-Sung occupied within, Jules risked checking through the anteroom’s glass for backup. None appeared.
This wasn’t some never-ending army. They were limited in terms of personnel—either through secretive paranoia or through funds. Perhaps funneling arms and ex-military types here would draw too much attention, or...
None of that mattered.
The priority was obviously the orb, and that cavern with the shields positioned inside. Jules needed to get to it, and quickly.
They talked for longer than seemed practical with Jules wondering if anyone was going to start shooting. Then someone did, finally, discharge their weapon. Someone returned fire, and the pair of guards unleashed their barrage. Jules saw his chance…
…if one of us gets caught, the others carry on…
Jules had a bead on the two gunmen. He could kill them and allow Dan and Tane the drop on Ah Dae-Sung.
No. I’m not killing like that.
But, as ever, he had no problem wounding them. He fired four times—two for each guard, one in each thigh. They fell, probably didn’t even know where the shots came from. They simply couldn’t stand up anymore.
After that Jules didn’t hang around. He sprinted for the disinfectant unit, slammed the release button, and threw open the first door, then the second, checking back briefly.
No one followed. No one was shooting his way. The fight was contained with the pair on the floor and whatever was going down inside the lab.
Good.
He used more caution as the outside air hit him. The two-lane thoroughfare was still in place, but busier. Prisoners were being funneled from the camp toward the main building.
Something was happening.
Jules pinned himself to the wall, trying to read the situation.
It was a handful—a couple of dozen, maybe—using both lanes. The last person to pass was only yards from where Jules had taken cover. And Jules couldn’t see where the guards who were plainly directing this group were located.
Now or never.
Go on or go back to check on the others.
Guessing time.
This was more important…
A gamble.
Jules flipped up his hood, stretched up his mask, checked his gloves were in place, and adopted a hunched, shuffling posture as he followed the crowd. No one stopped him. No one pulled him over. He was just another lost soul amid the rabble. And they delved back in toward the staging area. Except… not.
A handful of soldiers herded them over to the right and through a dark passageway. Stern faces, the threatening pointing of weapons—clubs as well as firearms.
Jules kept his head down, struggling to keep up while maintaining his shambling ruse. But in the darker tunnel, he grew more confident and eased up on it a bit. Up ahead, a lighter room turned the wandering inmates into hazy silhouettes, a destination he had no choice but to join.
Once inside, Jules didn’t understand at first. An oddity to be sure, but it focused him. He had little choice about what he did next. The only question was how he would achieve it.
And if his friends had any chance of helping him.
It happened so fast Dan barely had time to consider his options. First, Sally went down, dead before she hit the floor. No quirky last words, no redemption as she realized the errors of her ways. Just an airy-fairy beatific look of confusion as she slipped from his arms. The woman had believed this was the right course, up until she was no longer of use.
Perhaps it was better that way. She’d have no regrets.
The AKMs rattled in earsplitting unison and all around the lab erupted, blasted to pieces by a near-indiscriminate spray. Ah Dae-Sung had ducked out of the line of fire, so there was little they could do.
At least the lab benches were metal, and the skirts reached to the floor, providing adequate cover for now. From direct attacks, that was. They didn’t stop half a dozen ricochets pinging too close for comfort, though. That, and the jars containing the failed cloning experiments were shattering, spilling liquid over him and Tane, and soaking the floor.
“What is this stuff?” Dan called.
“Formaldehyde,” Tane said. “We going for it?”
“Against AKs?”
“Wait for the reload.”
That was obvious, but then what would they face?
Suddenly, the automatic fire ceased, replaced by a dual cry of pain. Dan and Tane locked eyes, as if daring each other to believe something that was almost too good to be true.
Dan said, “That kid.”
Assuming nothing, he poked his gun and half an eye over the bench. The two men with the AKMs lay sprawled on their backs, upended turtles wrestling with heavy weaponry. Dan drew a bead and fired. Once, twice. A headshot apiece.
“Now where are you, you—”
As if responding to him directly, Ah Dae-Sung fired his Vektor from around the door frame. Dan read this as the commander springing into action as his men fell, going after Jules, then ended up torn between pursuing him and delaying the two predators who were sure to descend.
“Not wrong about that.” With room to maneuver, Dan levered the MP5A from under his hoodie. Rather than disrobe, he unclipped the strap and set to work.
Tane had done the same.
They alternated, bursts of three battering the wall and door that Dae-Sung was using. He returned fire, spending his mag. In the pause to reload, they shifted position, advancing on their enemy: one burst from Dan as Tane moved, then Tane returned the favor, performing the standard tactic twice to reach an angle into the entryway.
Nothing.
Dan communicated using hand signals: I’ll take a look.
Tane: I’ll cover you.
With Tane aiming into the corridor, Dan positioned himself on the opposite side from where Ah Dae-Sung had fired. Although he couldn’t check for a pulse, he was sure the men he’d shot in the head were gone—no freak grazing of the skull from those bullets. It was worth taking a chance on leaving their weapons at their side, especially as the commander posed a greater danger.
Dan counted down in his head, nodding so Tane could r
ead his intent.
Then he was out, into the corridor, scanning wildly with his gun, covering every corner and possible ambush point he could see.
Tane glided out behind. They cleared the guard’s empty desk, the disinfectant chamber, even a cupboard full of stationery.
“He’s gone,” Tane said.
“Yeah, but so’s Jules.” Dan hustled through the wide-open unit, emerging to the shade of the lab’s entrance, where he pinned himself to the wall, suspicious at the quiet, almost deserted thoroughfare from the building to the camp. “Even if we stop them, we’ll kill everyone here. That’s what he said.”
“So, choose right,” Tane finished. “The explosives. They’re the failsafe.”
“Harpal, you there?”
Harpal replied in a scratchy, stuttering signal. “Go for Asian Mr. Bean. Or are we ditching the call signs?”
“That commander guy seemed pretty confident no one could touch them,” Dan said. “They got a failsafe in place to prevent anyone leaving if they fail.”
“So, if we win, everyone in the camp loses?”
“Bridget, Charlie, you online?” Dan asked.
“Barely,” Bridget replied in the same scratchy stop-start way.
The interference must have been from the power source inside, not quite cutting them off but capturing them in the current halo of static.
Dan said, “Do you know how to stop it?”
“Yes, but it’s risky.”
“We have no good options,” Tane said. “Less than an hour until the US Navy launches. Jules is inside, looking for a way to dismantle it, which will blow the dam and kill everyone here. Or our guys back home are ready to take down the network. Or… we let Ryom do his thing.”
“What do we do?” Harpal asked.
No one answered.
Then a cough. Then a stutter. Then Toby said, “Trust that Jules will find a way. Harpal, attempt to defuse the bombs. Dan, Tane, you find a way to evacuate the camp. We will stand by here, ready to act if Jules cannot succeed before the missiles start flying. Julia Grainger will keep us updated on that front. Everyone?”
