by Bobby Akart
“Bipod?” asked Campbell.
“No, thanks,” replied Duncan. “We’ll create a makeshift sandbag rest of some kind. Oh, add a spotting scope that has a range of a mile. Pentax, Nikon, Swarovski. Any of those three will do.”
Campbell finished his notes and then sent a message to someone to put in the wish list for fulfillment. He appeared to be readying himself to leave before Duncan decided to ask a few more questions.
“I have to ask this question since we’re the ones that may not come out of there alive,” started Duncan. “How reliable is your intel on this? Who are we relying upon to set this up?”
“Armstrong, you know the drill,” replied Campbell with a gruff. “Need-to-know basis only.”
“It’s our asses on the line, Mr. Campbell. Give me something.”
Campbell hesitated and looked into Duncan’s eyes. He appeared to give the best answer possible, without breaking protocol. “She is as close a confidante to Dear Leader as they come, without being married to the man. She’s very uncomfortable with the direction the country is headed and especially with respect to human rights violations. She’s made it clear the time to act is now.”
“You do realize this is a suicide mission, don’t you? This close confidante better be right.”
Campbell leaned forward with both hands on the table. “Gentlemen, you knew the risks of these operations when you signed on. You’ve never failed before, and we have one hundred percent confidence this mission will be successful. Get your head on straight, hit your mark, and then get the hell out. Now, are we good?”
“Good as gold,” replied Duncan.
“Good, get your gear together because you ship out in an hour,” said Campbell as he headed for the door. Then he spun and added, “Gentlemen, you’re dark from this point forward. No conversations with anyone, family included. Clear?”
“As crystal,” replied Park.
PART THREE
Chapter 33
November 13
The Yalu River
Sinuiju, North Korea
The Chinese-flagged ferry left the United Nations freighter, which had anchored in Korea Bay. The freighter was part of a prescheduled humanitarian mission by the Food and Agricultural Organization of the United Nations. The FAO-UN, an agency of the United Nations, was created to lead international efforts on behalf of developing and third-world countries to lessen poverty and hunger.
Recognized worldwide as a politically neutral opportunity to help impoverished countries, even those like North Korea, FAO-UN modernized their farming operations and improved nutrition for all of its citizens. This particular relief effort was organized out of the FAO-UN regional office in Bangkok, Thailand. Duncan and Park took the positions of two preapproved aid workers on the ship’s manifest. Their documents were expertly created, and their records changed to allow their cover to pass muster.
Duncan had been told that the North Korean border guards at Sinuiju were not considered the A-Team. The highly politicized and media-recognized Korean Demilitarized Zone, or DMZ, along the 38th parallel was protected by the DPRKs top soldiers. Sinuiju was a busy port because of its proximity to Dandon, China, across the Yalu River. It was not surprising to have the North Korean guards be negligent in reviewing travel documents.
As the ferry was approaching the docks, Park added his final thoughts.
“You weren’t understating it, Duncan,” said Park. “This is suicidal. Here we are, a couple of Americans strolling into our fiercest enemy’s clutches. Walk in the park? Nope. Capture results in death.”
Duncan furrowed his brow and grimly nodded. “I get it. They could chuck us into the concentration camp here at Sinuiju, or even haul us to Kaechon, the worst of the worst.”
“For the rest of our lives,” added Park.
“I think we’re getting closer to the docks,” interjected Duncan. He pointed along the shore to a series of broken-down ships tethered to equally ragged-looking wooden docks. This was a country that spent as little as possible on day-to-day infrastructure, but military spending had no limits.
“Seriously, Duncan, these guys will fire off nukes before we can run down the side of the mountain,” continued Park as the two men stood on the rail of the ferry puttering up the Yalu river. “They’re crazy enough to use them too. If we pull this off, they’ll feel like they’ve been embarrassed and will have nothing to lose. They’re not gonna turn the other cheek. It’s gonna be bad, right?”
“Armageddon,” mumbled Duncan. His mind raced to his days in church and sermons from Revelations. He often fantasized what Armageddon would look like. Park was right. They might be lighting the fuse by killing Kim Jong-un. Is it the right thing to do?
“Exactly! I’m less concerned about the North Koreans finding us than I am one of our own nukes falling on our heads as we try to escape.”
Duncan and Park had worked on many dark-ops missions in the past, and they certainly were aware of the ramifications of this one. This would easily be their toughest challenge. North Korea was difficult to get into and even harder to get out of. The DPRK was infested with paranoid citizens who lived in fear of hiding secrets from the military. Their lives required that they spy on one another for fear of their loyalty being tested and the ramifications of lack of disclosure to the authorities.
The language barriers were minimized by virtue of Park being fluent in Korean, but the cultural differences prevented the two Americans from blending in. The one overriding concern was the lack of a backup plan or assistance. They would be on their own from the moment they stepped off the ferry in Sinuiju until they were extracted the afternoon following the assassination.
Duncan had confidence he could make the shot. He knew they could pull it off, but would they be able to escape once the hornet’s nest had been kicked?
The ferry slowed to an idle as it coasted toward an available slip at the seaport of Sinuiju. Their instructions were explicit. Do not speak unless forced to. Park could speak Korean, as his cover allowed it. However, Duncan was to reply in simple German phrases, most of which he’d learned for prior European missions.
The men returned to the rest of the relief workers and separated from one another. Duncan had identified an attractive, young German woman who would garner a lot of attention from the North Korean border guards. His hope was to be passed through quickly while they spent more time with his traveling companion.
Because he was of Korean descent, Park would be closely scrutinized. He intended to pass through their brief interrogation process first alongside the team leader of the FAO-UN group of twenty-two aid workers. The team leader, who was British, was also an operative for MI6, having been inserted into the FAO-UN organization shortly after its formation. She was fluent in Korean and would be able to handle any complications regarding Park’s entry.
If Park was rejected for some reason, Duncan would fall back and re-enter the ferry. He and Park would find an alternative means of entry. They had six hours before they were to meet their handler from MI6.
After a few tense moments in which Park was carefully scrutinized, he was allowed in, and the rest of the FAO-UN contingent followed. Most were carrying duffels carrying personal items such as clothing and bathroom sundries. A second set of North Korean guards rifled through these bags, often dumping the contents on the dock and kicking through clothing to see what the bags contained.
If a camera or laptop computer was found, the scrutiny became more intense and, for some, lasted two hours. Park and Duncan were briefed on this in advance, and therefore did not bring any form of electronics with them.
Naturally, Duncan and Park packed light, but believably. While the North Korean guards were not as thoroughly trained as TSA agents from the U.S., they were capable of pulling someone out of line for closer scrutiny on a whim. It was important for the two men not to draw attention to themselves because once they entered the country, they planned on separating themselves from the group.
There was preciou
s little time to waste in getting to Kusong and their goal of looking at their options for establishing a sniper hide.
While the men waited on the rest of the FAO-UN team to clear, they took some time to study their surroundings. North Korea was known as the world’s most isolated country. What was not commonly known was that travel to North Korea was possible, as was working and investing in business. While China is the country’s largest trading partner by far, there are European business interests that have invested in North Korean industries such as software, shipping, and mining.
In addition to humanitarian aid workers, the most likely people to be seen in North Korea were exchange students, tour guides with their guests, businessmen and of course, diplomats from other countries, although the latter two groups were most likely found in Pyongyang.
Ordinarily, tourists would be abundant in Sinuiju because of its proximity to Dandong, China, across the Yalu River. Very few travelers could be observed due to the closing of the China-North Korea Friendship Bridge between the two cities. While not open to pedestrians, vehicular traffic between the two cities remained steady on most days, but Beijing’s most recent attempts to bring pressure on North Korea to stop the upcoming ICBM test included closing the Friendship Bridge for repairs. The move was largely symbolic because the New Yalu River Bridge had just opened a mile upriver after ten years of construction.
Periodically, a uniformed patrol would randomly stop apparent travelers and request to see their travel permits. Duncan and Park had rehearsed their responses to being detained during their preparations to comport to their visas and passports as well as their connection to FAO-UN.
It was a charade they’d carry on for less than forty-eight hours. After the assassination of Kim Jong-un, none of their rehearsed answers would likely help them.
Chapter 34
November 13
Dongrim Hotel
Dongrim, North Korea
Dongrim was located about thirty miles southeast of the seaport, about halfway to Kusong. The Dongrim Hotel, which housed the aid workers, had the exterior appearance of a block and stucco warehouse, but on the inside, the furnishings rivaled that of a Hampton Inn or Marriot Courtyard hotel. The staff was friendly, and the accommodations more than adequate, especially at a price tag of twenty-nine dollars per night.
The room contained a flat-screen television, plush bedding, and a marble enclosed shower. Duncan checked his Apple Watch, a detail overlooked by the North Korean border guards. While internet connectivity was not available, the apps loaded on his version included satellite access to maps, GPS tracking, and weather radar.
After a one-hour power nap, the alarm on his watch woke him, and he took a quick shower. He finished dressing in clothing suggested by his CIA advisory team. In North Korea, the citizens were too poor or hungry to think much about clothing and fashion sense. However, based upon a North Korean’s employment, their uniform might vary.
The FAO-UN team suggested their team members wear blue jeans or khakis, along with shirts and jackets befitting the weather. It was the onset of winter, and most North Koreans wore a form of black or dark blue felt coat. Duncan and Park had packed predominantly black clothing to be worn, as they intended to travel to Kusong in the early nighttime hours.
As the sun began to set, the men walked out into the cold evening air with a map, putting on their best tourist impressions. Even though the Dongrim Hotel had a nice dining room, the men sought out a restaurant where their contact from MI6 would be waiting.
It was dark when the two tourists entered the Jade Stream Pavilion and sat at the dining bar overlooking the well-lit waterfalls outside the building. They were to remain seated, enjoy their dinner, and the MI6 operative would approach them toward the end of their meal.
Halfway through dinner, a lanky Brit was seated next to Park and immediately began studying the menu. He sat in silence for several minutes until his order was placed. When he’d been served a glass of North Korean wine, he took a sip and grimaced.
“Porter Kensington,” at your service, he said under his breath. The MI6 operative was dressed in a pin-striped suit to lend the appearance of a businessman. Working under a New Zealand passport, Kensington’s cover allowed him free travel through the country, as he was considered a valued investor in the North Korean’s magnesite mining operations in Tanchon.
“How’s the wine?” asked Park, keeping his eyes forward on the dancing lights appearing through the waterfall.
Kensington mumbled his response. “Shameful. Horse swill.”
Park and Duncan finished their meal without further conversation. After the check was delivered, Kensington slipped a piece of paper to Park with an address on it. Then he mumbled, “Twenty minutes.”
With their tab settled, they walked into the street, which was devoid of traffic. “Park, it’s going to be hard for us to travel at night with the lack of traffic. We’ll stick out to any military patrols.”
“I agree,” replied Park. “Waiting until morning to move is like losing half a day. It’s gonna be cold, but I’d like to be set up in those mountains when the sun rises so we can identify a spot.”
“Maybe our new friend can help,” added Duncan.
The men found their way to another hotel in Dongrim and waited in the karaoke bar as instructed. They suffered through several poorly performed American songs before they were approached once again by Kensington. This time, with no conversation, he passed Park a room key and abruptly left.
Duncan and Park waited several minutes and then left the bar. “That was brutal,” said Duncan with a laugh. “I bet that’s what they do in these concentration camps, listen to terrible renditions of old Elvis Presley songs.”
“No doubt,” said Park as the men entered Kensington’s hotel and climbed the stairs to the second floor.
They made their way to Kensington’s door. Just as Duncan was about to insert the card key, the door swung open and an arm motioned them into a pitch-black space. Duncan subconsciously reached for his waist to pull his sidearm and then remembered where he was. His body tensed, preparing for a physical assault.
He moved into the dark room, followed by Park, and the door shut behind them. Kensington, in a British accent that could just as well have been New Zealander, spoke to reassure the American operatives.
“Sorry about the cloak-and-dagger, gentlemen. There are prying eyes through the peepholes of my neighbors. This country is awash with paranoia, even among the visitors.”
Kensington removed his jacket and threw it onto a chair next to a desk. His room was furnished similar to the Dongrim Hotel. Duncan only noticed one suitcase, which lay open on the still-made bed. He glanced around the room, hoping to see signs of the weaponry he requested.
“My name’s Park, and my friend is Armstrong. I’m sure you know as much about us as we know about you.”
“Good point, Mr. Park, but none of that will matter by morning. In a few minutes, the three of us will depart Dongrim for the Panghyon Airport, which is thirteen miles from the Kusong missile launch site.”
“What happens then?” asked Duncan.
“There, a Sungri truck will be waiting for you. It contains a false bed that will withstand cursory inspections by the DPRK roaming patrols. The truck will be loaded with grain sacks containing winter wheat and rye, consistent with your visas as FAO-UN humanitarian workers.”
Duncan began to relax. Kensington was all business, and that suited him just fine. “Do we require travel papers to approach Kusong?”
“Yes, and those have been arranged. They’ll be in the truck’s dashboard compartment. I must caution you upon your approach. Once you cross the bridge at the Taeryong River, the level of scrutiny rises substantially near the entrance to the military base at Kusong. Your travel permits will allow it, but the risk is great.”
Park approached the window and carefully parted the curtains to look at the streets of Dongrim. “Traffic is sparse. Any attempt to approach the proposed site wou
ld be met with resistance every step of the way.”
“That’s correct,” said Kensington. “Your best attempt at ingress is the early dawn hours. Delivery trucks from Dongrim and the coastal villages along the Korean Bay will fill the road, and you’ll be able to blend in.”
“That puts us behind schedule,” said Duncan. “Any other options?”
Kensington thought for a moment and pulled a map out of his suitcase. “You could travel along the river, which would require you to steal a small skiff. The other alternative is to hike. It will take you several hours to avoid detection, but you will be able to approach the launch site through the mountains.”
“Okay, we’ll figure it out on the ride up there,” said Duncan. “I assume nothing has changed since our last intel briefing yesterday morning.”
“Correct,” said Kensington as he zipped up his suitcase. “An inflatable will meet you both at the village of Sinmi-do at dusk that evening. Let me confirm for you that the target launch date is the fifteenth. The weather system will move in that afternoon, which would require them to abort the launch for at least a week if not longer.”
“There’s no chance the launch has been moved up, is there?” asked Park.
“No, I’m assured of this by our resource.”
“Let’s talk about her for a moment,” Duncan insisted. “Are you one hundred percent confident in your intelligence?”
Kensington pulled his suitcase off the bed and extended the handle in order to roll it behind him. He smiled slightly as he responded, “I’m sure. The two of us are intimate and will be together after this is all over. I fly to Pyongyang on the last flight this evening, where I will be picked up by her personal security detail. Rest assured, gentlemen, our intelligence is as good as it gets.”
Park shrugged, and Duncan nodded his acknowledgment of the new information. Kensington was excited about accomplishing this mission for more reasons than changing the balance of power in the world. Duncan thought to himself, If this guy’s sleeping with Kim’s sister, or aunt, or one of his female advisors, he’s as close as any operative has ever been to the dictators of North Korea.
