by Dale Brown
CHAPTER SIX
NEAR NAMPO, PYONGYANG PROVINCE,
UNITED REPUBLIC OF KOREA
(FORMERLY NORTH KOREA)
SEVERAL WEEKS LATER
It was the most astounding sight imaginable: long lines of Chinese troops and vehicles marching to the Nampo docks, and hundreds of Korean citizens — residents of both the old North and South Korea — jeering and shouting at them. There were occasional former North Korean soldiers, mostly officers, in the march, and they had to dodge an occasional piece of fruit aimed in their direction. United Republic of Korea soldiers — again, from both North and South, genuinely united — stationed themselves between the demonstrators and the departing troops, keeping the citizens out of the road itself, but the crowds were orderly and the soldiers made no effort to stop their shouts and jeers.
And yes, there was even fruit to throw. When the former North Korean warehouses were opened up, citizens found tens of thousands of tons of food, fuel, clothing, and other supplies cached away all over the country, kept for party members, bureaucrats, and Chinese troops, or rifled by smugglers and black marketers. The black marketing was under control now — UROK troops dealt severely with the crooks — and for the first time in ages, fresh produce was reaching ordinary citizens.
The naval base at Nampo was one of the largest ports on Korea’s east coast, and North Korea’s largest naval facility. It was also the home of the People’s Republic of China’s Korean flotilla, a small fleet of surface and subsurface vessels based in North Korea to help train their client state’s large-and medium-ship fleet. China had had over twenty thousand personnel and forty ships permanently based at Nampo, plus several dozen other vessels that visited the port monthly while on maneuvers in the Bo Hai and Yellow Seas.
Today, however, the base represented the beginning of the end of Chinese occupation of the Korean peninsula. The last of the Chinese troops and their heavy equipment, that which could not be sent by rail or along the highways north to China, were preparing to leave the country. Twenty heavy roll-on, roll-off container ships were waiting at the docks to take the last of China’s war machine out of Nampo.
Korean troops lined the way, watching the procession. The departure was going smoothly until two American-made Humvees veered into the street and set up a blockade in front of a large green tractor-trailer rig. The Chinese officer in charge of the heavy equipment motorcade, who was riding in a general-purpose transport ahead of the rig, called an instant halt to the march and ordered his security troops to prepare to repel attackers.
At the sight of the Humvees, and the large, strange antennas atop them, the officer knew that what he had feared most had just happened. He got out of his vehicle and stormed toward the Humvees blocking the path of his trucks, his face looking appropriately outraged, annoyed, and murderous. He was encouraged to note that his own security forces clearly outnumbered the Korean troops lining the street. If there was going to be a fight, he would win it easily.
“What is the meaning of this?” the officer shouted. He had been assigned to Pyongyang for many years, and his Korean was fluent. “I demand to know why my trucks are being detained. Move your vehicles immediately or I will order my men to remove them for you!”
A Korean officer stepped out of one of the Humvees, approached the Chinese officer, bowed politely, and saluted. The Chinese officer noted the new United Republic of Korea flag hastily sewn onto the jacket, and sneered.
“Please forgive me, sir,” the Korean officer said, bowing again. The Chinese officer knew that Koreans seldom literally mean what they say — they might apologize a thousand times over, yet never mean it. Such was certainly the case now. “But we must search this vehicle for contraband weapons,” the Korean said. “I promise it will not take very long.”
“You will do no such thing!” the Chinese officer retorted. He withdrew a folded legal document with the seal of the new United Republic of Korea and the seal of the People’s Republic of China on its cover. “Under the terms of the agreement between our nations, we are permitted to pass without hindrance during this withdrawal period. Step aside!”
“You are permitted undisturbed movement of personnel and equipment as long as you do not possess contraband items,” said the Korean officer. “We have reason to believe that you are carrying illegal special weapons.” He motioned to the large antennas on his trucks. “Those are radiation detectors, sir. It is our opinion that you are carrying at least two and possibly more nuclear warheads in those trucks. You must allow us to inspect your trucks before you may pass.”
“We will not!” the Chinese officer shouted. “You are not entitled to inspect our cargo. We are carrying only official records, personal items, and office equipment. All of it is the property of the People’s Republic of China. These trucks contain the remains of Chinese soldiers and family members who wish to be reinterred in their homeland. Disturbing their caskets would be sacrilege, punishable by the shame and humiliation of your ancestors. Now step aside, sir. This is your last warning.” He shouted an order to his troops, who promptly knelt and raised their weapons to port arms, ready to open fire. “Your men are far outnumbered, sir. Now stand back and let us pass, or there will be bloodshed.”
“We will not stand aside, sir,” the Korean replied. “We do not want a fight, but we will respond with force if necessary. If you have contraband weapons in that vehicle, they will be confiscated, and the rest of your men and equipment may board the ships. Do not force us to fight.”
“Then move your vehicles. Let us pass without any more delay, and there will be no fighting,” the Chinese said. He turned again to his men. “You men, move those vehicles! Do it peaceably, but use force if—”
Suddenly, there was a swooosh and just a hint of a streak of smoke through the sky, and seconds later the Chinese officer’s vehicle was hit. A cylindrical missile, perhaps three feet long and six inches in diameter, spun through the air like a stick tossed into the air, then bounced and skittered across the ground, with smoke belching from the blunt aft end. It did not explode, but it knocked the vehicle sideways so hard it almost sent it off the road. The Chinese troops scattered; some took cover, but remarkably, no one opened fire. The demonstrators also scattered, moving a safe distance away, but not so frightened as to leave the scene.
The missile was silver-colored, with short, straight fins protruding from its midbody and aft end. The nose was blunt. A thick tangle of thin wire, like monofilament fishing line, trailed behind it. The Korean officer went over to the missile and kicked it with the toe of his boot, then lifted up the wire so the Chinese officer could see. “This, sir, is a TOW missile round,” he said. “Wire-guided, range of approximately four kilometers, with a four-kilogram high-explosive impact warhead. This is only a dummy round, of course. But I promise you, sir, all of the rest of the rounds we fire will be live ones. We have over a dozen gunners scattered nearby, and two helicopter gunships with more TOWs and Hellfire missiles ready to respond. Many of us will die if fighting starts, but many more of you will die too. We will then proceed to sink your transport ships and kill every last one of your soldiers onboard.”
“We were promised that there would be no interference or coercion during our withdrawal!” the Chinese officer shouted, his voice quivering in fear. “We were promised no demonstration of force, no military presence, no intimidation…”
“And we were promised that all nuclear, chemical, and biological weapons would remain in place for proper disposal,” the Korean officer retorted. “My men have detected nuclear weapons in that vehicle. We will now search it and confiscate any contraband weapons, or we will kill every last one of your men and destroy all of your ships and vehicles. You may choose, sir. Choose wisely.”
“You would dare to disturb the eternal sleep of the honorable dead?” the Chinese officer asked. “Have you no conscience? Have you no shame?”
“If I am wrong, sir, then I will publicly and personally apologize to the families of those whom
I have disturbed,” the Korean officer replied. “I will accept the shame of my nation. But I will search these vehicles. Now. Will you please step aside, sir?” The Chinese officer shook his head, then ordered his men to back away from the trucks.
Sure enough, the semi was filled with six large wooden boxes, sealed with steel straps. The boxes bore the inscription of death, plus information on the deceased’s family and town of origin. Some were draped with regimental flags, the symbol of a dead soldier; one was draped with a Chinese flag, signifying the remains of a high government official. The inscription said the remains were that of the senior military attaché assigned to Nampo, the third-highest-ranking member of the Chinese bureau in Nampo.
“This one,” the Korean officer said to his men. “Open it.”
“How dare you!” the Chinese officer shouted. “Do you realize that that contains the blessed remains of Vice-Marshal Cho Jong-sang himself? He was a former commander in the People’s Army, next in line for chief of the general staff, and one of the highest-ranking Chinese diplomats in North Korea.”
“I said, open it!”
“Why don’t you open another one, if you charge there is more than one contraband weapon in the truck?” the Chinese officer asked. “Do not desecrate the vice-marshal’s name by disturbing his coffin!” But the Korean officer refused to yield. Four of his soldiers removed the steel bands and opened the wooden crate, revealing a magnificent mahogany coffin inside. The locks had to be drilled out, which took some time, but the casket was finally opened…
… and indeed, there lay the withered body of the vice-marshal, in full military uniform.
“You bastard!” the Chinese officer spat, unleashing a tirade of invective as the coffin was sealed shut again. The Korean officer stood unmoving at its head, bowed deeply at the waist, and suffered the onslaught in silence.Then, before the crate was lifted back into the truck, he apologized, saying, “I am most deeply sorry for my mistake,” turned to his soldiers, and pointed. “That one next.”
“What?” the Chinese officer shouted in disbelief. “You are going to open another one? How dare you? You will be imprisoned for this, I promise you! You will not see the light of day for fifty years!” He positioned himself directly in front of the Korean officer, going face-to-face with him. “This will cause an international incident of the worst kind if you do not stop immediately! You—”
“Step aside, please, sir.”
“I will not! You have delayed us long enough! I will order my men to keep your men away from these trucks until I can contact my embassy. Stop immediately, or I will…”
But he stopped as the four soldiers tried to lift the wooden crate — and it would not budge. With their flashlight, they could see that this crate and a couple of others, most of them located in the front area of the truck, were fitted with special hardware so they could be moved by forklift. They also found roller pallets that could help move the heavy crates.
“How interesting,” said the Korean officer. “The vice-marshal’s remains can be easily lifted by four men, while this one cannot be moved even a centimeter. This is rather unusual, don’t you think, sir?”
The Chinese officer swore under his breath. “You have no idea of the havoc it will cause if these crates are not delivered to China. My country is willing to go to war over these devices! Do you understand? What you are doing is tempting war between our countries. Do you want that for your brand-new little nation? Do you want to celebrate your first few weeks of existence with a Chinese invasion? Do you?” The Korean officer was unmoved. The Chinese officer wiped beads of sweat from his forehead. “They will execute me if I do not return with them,” he whispered. “I will be killed the minute I set foot on Chinese soil.”
“Then do not return,” said the Korean. “Remain here in United Korea. You will be welcome.”
“That would save my life, I suppose,” the Chinese said, “but it would not preserve my honor or the honor of my family, would it?” He looked at the Korean officer’s field jacket and recognized the outlines of some of the patches and insignia that had been stripped from it. They fitted a North Korean People’s Army unit. This man had been a North Korean officer! “Tell me, sir,” he asked, “what preserves your honor? You not only turn your back on your oath and your country, but you do not even procure another jacket to wear. You dishonor your country of birth by sewing this abomination on the jacket that kept you warm and protected.”
“The flag I served under, the bureaucrats and government officials that I pledged to support and defend, starved my family and me for months,” the Korean officer answered bitterly. “Last year it cost the life of my youngest son. Every family I know, military or not, was hurt by what the Communist government was doing. When the opportunity came to bring the government down, I took it. I invoked the name of my dead son for strength. His strength supports me still. Now my family is being cared for — and now I would give my life for the new nation that saved them from certain death.
“Now step aside. Order your men to leave the contraband weapons right where they are and board your ships, and you may depart in peace. Otherwise, I will order all these vehicles and your ships destroyed. I will be happy to join my son in eternity. I am ready to die. Are you?”
About an hour later the march toward the transport ships resumed. It took several more hours to load the ships; then the last of the Chinese Army members boarded and the vessels unleashed thick clouds of smoke as their engines pushed them away from the Korean shore. Korean helicopters flitted overhead to escort them clear of their territorial waters.
Left behind on the wharf, to the stunned amazement of the onlookers, were thirty-seven gray steel coffins, off-loaded from the trucks. Each coffin was about six feet long, three feet square, and weighed well over eight hundred pounds… and each contained a thermonuclear warhead for a short-range Scud missile. Some were smaller North Korean — made ABD warheads, with approximately a ten-kiloton nuclear yield; a few were Chinese-made OKD warheads with anywhere from a forty-to a three-hundred-fifty-kiloton yield.
Once word spread about what was inside those coffins, the demonstrators who had thronged the roadsides quickly left the military port at Nampo. They never wanted to set foot there again.
THE WHITE HOUSE, WASHINGTON, D.C.
THE NEXT MORNING
Thank you for taking my call, Mr. President,” said Kevin Martindale, speaking on the secure videophone hookup. Out of view of the videophone camera, chief of staff and senior adviser Jerrod Hale scowled at the President’s courteous words. No President of the United States of America, he said in silent admonishment, should ever have to suck up to a foreign leader, however grave the situation. Vice President Whiting and National Security Adviser Freeman were also in the Oval Office, and out of camera view.
“I am pleased to take your call and I place myself at your complete disposal, sir,” responded United Republic of Korea President Kwon Ki-chae. The man looked more cheerful than Martindale ever remembered seeing him. Well, why shouldn’t he? His grand, daring scheme to reunite the Korean peninsula had worked unbelievably well.
“Mr. President, I have just received a briefing from my staff,” Martindale began. “We heard the news of the stockpile of nuclear warheads confiscated at Nampo. Congratulations, sir, for taking control of those devices without bloodshed. Any one of us here would have guessed that the Chinese would have fought to the death before relinquishing them.”
“I thank you for your kind words, Mr. President,” Kwon said. “We thank the gods of chance and of reason that bloodshed was avoided. But when you have nothing to lose except your freedom, acts of desperation are your only alternative. Unfortunately, my military analysts tell me that it is possible we only succeeded in confiscating a fraction of the warheads stored in Nampo and the First Army region. We fear many more were already smuggled out in the opening days of the transition.”
“I agree, Mr. President,” Martindale said. He paused for a moment, then went on: “
Mr. President, the confiscated warheads are the reason for my call. My analysts tell me you have uncovered over sixty such weapons caches throughout North Korea in the past few days — and these are only weapons stores that you did not know about before the transition.”
“That is true, Mr. President,” Kwon acknowledged. “Your intelligence information is quite accurate. We have unearthed”—he paused, checking his notes—”sixty-three weapons caches. It is also true that we did not know about these hidden weapons before the transition. Most appear to be weapons in maintenance status that Communist loyalists tried to hide. Thankfully, those who believe in peaceful reunification reported their existence and led our teams to them.”
“We do not have an accurate guess as to how many warheads or devices that represents,” President Martin-dale went on, “but if each cache was only half the size of yesterday’s Nampo discovery, that is over six hundred weapons of mass destruction discovered.”
“It is indeed shocking,” Kwon said, choosing not to confirm or deny Martindale’s estimate. “To think that all these years the Communists denied they stockpiled such weapons. We are indeed fortunate that the Communists never had a chance to employ them against us. It would have decimated our country ten times over.”
“The entire world is grateful for your courage, wisdom, and strength through this incredible ordeal, Mr. President,” Martindale said. He looked at Hale’s scowl and nodded, this time acknowledging that his civility might be a touch excessive. “Those weapons represented a substantial threat not just to Korea directly, but to the entire world. We believe, and I’m sure you’ll verify, that the Communists were selling those warheads, along with the delivery vehicles, around the world for hard currency. Their balance of payments certainly bears this out.” Kwon said nothing.
