“And a good day to you, Jason, although I know it is a most hectic one. We in Russia are not at all surprised. In fact, we have expected it before this but had nothing but vague signs upon which to base our judgments. It does not portend well for either of our countries. I know you have a treaty with South Korea, but your predecessor made it a known fact that he would not honor it after the South Koreans rather rudely expelled you from their country. Their leadership and their students did not believe the North would ever become sufficiently belligerent to come south, militarily speaking.
“Our main concern about it is whether or not the Chinese will come to their rescue as they did in the Korean War of the 1950s. We don’t have a good feel for that. There have long been signs of a slow, long militarization in western China, signs of infrastructure to support an invasion, but we don’t think they are aimed at us. Rather, they seem to be aimed more at India. Still, the development of rail lines, depots, and water storage basins in such a dry region do have considerable peaceful applications in development of that region. If China were to become involved, I would have expected expansion and mobilization along their border with North Korea.”
“Your points are all very valid, Vassily. I am afraid that, at the moment, I must agree with you. Is it possible that the weapons you have sold to China have been made available to the North Koreans?”
“That is possible, Jason. Those sales have contributed greatly to our stability and economy. As you are well aware, we have a gargantuan wrestling problem with the criminal element here, trying to get them at least under control if not entirely eliminated. We have not been as successful as we hoped in that endeavor. They can sell sophisticated weapons because of their tremendous influence in all areas of our society and economy. I hate to admit it, but they are as strong as the government here. Our intelligence has revealed that one criminal organization sold the blueprints of our latest submarine design to the Chinese. We are pursing that now, but short of assassination of these irresponsible individuals, our judicial system might not be able to bring them to justice. Our judicial system is corrupt, but that is another problem we are trying to deal with. No, I don’t think they could have, or would have, passed those on to North Korea. Certainly, North Korea would not have had the time to build, equip, man, and train such a submarine, let alone a fleet of them. In that respect, I do not see the North as a threat to your naval presence in the Yellow or South China Seas.”
Chapter 14
“Mr. President, one of the Mexicans trying to escape after the raid in Benson, Arizona that the Texas Highway Patrolman shot a month or two ago has been recovering in El Paso General Hospital. He has decided to talk in exchange for immunity. He thinks we might even let him become a U.S. citizen.
“He has revealed that these raids have been pretty much the work of one gang that approaches a military company in size, organization, financing, and logistics. He’s not sure of the precise location of their base. He comes from farther south in Mexico. He thought he was joining a revolutionary band at first. We have it down to a general area inside Mexico, where it is disguised as a fruits and vegetables farm of considerable size. The soldiers work as field hands between raids. He’s been with the gang for about a year.
“Some Orientals visited the farm a couple of times in the year he has been there. He thinks they might be supplying the weapons and cash to conduct these raids. At one time, they also grew a lot of marijuana, but right after a visit of these Orientals, they had to pull it all out and grind it up and mix it in cattle feed. Apparently, they have a cattle feeding operation of modest size. He has observed that they go on a raid a month or two after these Orientals come calling. He says they drive a nice, large air-conditioned car. It looks like there is one boss and a couple of bodyguards each time. The car has a California license plate. They were all given their own, brand new, semi-automatic version of an Ak-47 rifle. There are no markings on the rifles that we recovered, but their manufacturing quality suggests that they are newly made and of Chinese origin.”
“OK Fred, anything from any of our drones that help pinpoint where this base is?”
“We have some leads that indicate it is about fifty miles inside the Mexican border in a relatively isolated area. The lead suspect farm has its own deep wells for irrigation which makes for a large, intensively cultivated patch of ground in an otherwise relatively isolated and desolate desert.”
“Anything else this guy has revealed?”
“Yes, sir. He says some months ago, a whole bunch of SUVs and pickups began arriving one or two at a time over the course of a month or so. They all had California plates. They have a regular garage where the mechanics check them over and equip them with whatever is necessary. Water cans, CB radios, gun racks, seats, and so on, so they can use them in their raids. They, apparently, have large underground fuel storage tanks that were installed by Americans some months ago. I am having our boys check all along the border for the purchase of filling station sized underground tanks. That might give a definite location of this base.”
“What, Fred, do you think the Mexican authorities know of this?”
“I think they must know an awful lot, Mr. President. Certainly, the local and probably the state authorities know of an operation of this size. I have no doubt a lot of payoffs occur.”
“Johnny, would you excuse us, please? No recorders, notes or anything else. I want a totally private discussion with our FBI Director. Are you uncomfortable with that, Fred?”
Fred Gateway smiled, “Mr. President, I am at your service.” Johnny Withers joined Robert Lee outside the Oval Office until summoned.
“Fred, it really bothers me when all the American Border Agents are killed at their posts and all the Mexican officials are merely handcuffed when they crossed back into Mexico. That tells me it was a setup.”
“I agree, Mr. President. That has bothered me as well. I have been wondering just how to address that.”
“Do you have anything in mind?”
“I have thought of kidnapping a couple of those Mexican agents who were involved. I would like to look at their bank accounts and perhaps engage in some other illegal investigations of them. Of course, that would all be illegal and if discovered would result in another emotional outburst from Mexico about their sovereignty.”
“Do you have the people you can trust to pull this off? People who are willing to take the heat and say they acted on their own, perhaps as an act of revenge for the killing of their fellow officers?”
Fred Gateway’s smile cracked a couple of centimeters. “Mr. President, the line of volunteers would be a block long.”
“Well then, Fred, if there is no other business this morning, why don’t you get to it?”
After thirty minutes of fleeing south towards Chu’nch’on, Major Robert Bradley tapped the Korean Captain on the shoulder. “Let’s stop over there and eat these MREs and fill the gas tank from a jerry can.” The Captain nodded first to Bradley, then the Korean sergeant driving. The sergeant nosed the Chevy Blazer over on a wide shoulder of the road. Bradley set up three small stoves, took each of their MREs, poured water from the water can into the MRE entree pouches to re-hydrate the meals, ignited the fuel tablets and set the pouches on the stoves. In the meantime, the Captain had taken their only rifle and patrolled down the road, while the Sergeant filled the gas tank with diesel fuel from one of the three jerry cans. After a few minutes, the meals were ready, and Captain Koon reappeared. They ate in silence, each lost in his thoughts. Captain Koon picked up the trash from his MRE, threw it into the back of the Blazer and, turning to Bradley, and said “I think I will walk down the road around the bend. We seem to have outrun the civilians on the road. I didn’t get very far ahead, so I’ll see what’s around the bend while you finish.” With that, he picked up the Sergeant’s Dae Woo Rifle, put on his field hat and walked off. Three minutes later, rifle fire erupted. That different calibers were being fired was obvious. Bradley and Sergeant Park jumped to their feet and ran to their vehicle. Park started the engine. Captain Koon was running towards them. “North Koreans were mining the road ahead, but I got two of them. A couple of others jumped into the brush about two hundred meters ahead.”
“Will they attempt to ambush us?” Bradley asked.
“I don’t know, but I don’t think we should stay here. Let’s move on south.” Bradley resumed his backseat position, while Captain Koon leaned out the window with the rifle. “Go fast for about a hundred and fifty meters, and then slow down. Look for fresh diggings in the dirt, where there might be mines.” Sergeant Park nodded a yes sir, and did exactly that. At twenty-five meters, the Sergeant saw where they were digging for an anti-tank mine that was still in its wooden box. He skirted the mine at fifteen kilometers an hour, straining to look ahead for others.
“I don’t see any bodies. Are you sure you hit two of them, Captain?”
“Yes, Major, I saw them go down. They must have dragged the two casualties into the brush for first aid or to hide them if they are dead.”
From one hundred meters up the hill on their left flank, the North Koreans opened with rifle fire. Sergeant Park mashed on the accelerator. Bullets penetrated the rear of the vehicle just behind Bradley. One of them hit two of the diesel fuel jerry cans. Another round hit the case of MREs. Sergeant Park swerved, shifted gears, and the Blazer shot forward, swerving around the curve. From the sound and small volume of fire, Captain Koon judged that it was the two remaining in the road mining detail.
Captain Koon shot a quick glance at Sergeant Park, and seeing he was not hit, swiveled around to see about Bradley. “You hit?” he asked.
“Nope, but it was damned close. I wish I had a rifle and this vehicle had a radio so we could report it.”
Captain Park just nodded, then added, we’ll stop at the next village or whatever and see if we can telephone it in.”
“I don’t like all this diesel fuel back here. We better hope those rounds didn’t hit the tank as well or we are in for a long walk.” Now, several gallons of diesel fuel had leaked forward under their feet. Their boots were soaking it up. The two Koreans looked down at the floor and just looked at each other. If they had to walk out, they would leave a trail of diesel vapor a baby could follow.
They had reached a few miles north of Ch’unch’on, when Captain Koon told the Sergeant to pull over. He leaned over the seat and told Bradley, “The road forks here in Ch’unch’on. One goes southwest to Seoul, the other southeast, but then curves northeast to tie into the coastal road at Sokch’o. The North Koreans are undoubtedly driving hard south along the coastal road, making for Pusan. Undoubtedly, our best bet is to head for Seoul, but it is probably already under heavy attack by air, and armored columns are undoubtedly driving for it. The risk of coming under attack by air is increasing with every mile. Additionally, we are just north of the bridge over the Soyang Chosuji, a reservoir on the Pukhan Gang, a rather large river. We better be very careful from here on. If I were the North, I would have a team out to seize and hold the bridge. I better explore ahead a few hundred yards, and then you, Sergeant, drive forward on my signal. I’ll take the rifle with me.”
With that, he climbed out of the Blazer. Holding the rifle at port arms, he held close to the shoulder of the road, scanning both sides of the road very carefully as he walked. After three hundred meters, he motioned for the Blazer to come forward and wait where he was standing. As he walked another four hundred meters, the bridge came in sight. He slipped off the roadside and into the brush and went halfway up the hill on the left side. Crouching, he snuck forward until he could scan the panorama before him. Traffic on the bridge was nonexistent. It seemed unusually quiet to him. Without binoculars, he couldn’t pick up a lot of detail. Smoke from a dozen fires was rising from the city. A group of three individuals in uniform were standing at the close end of the bridge. They turned and walked to the south end of the bridge. Captain Koon couldn’t make out their uniforms, other than that they were in some camouflage pattern. He edged forward, slowly, still in the crouched position, around the hill. Movement in the brush just off the edge of the road below caught his eye. He froze and listened. He observed for a few minutes, saw more movement on the side of the road that he was on. Slowly, he picked out several camouflaged positions stretched over fifty or so meters, each manned by two or three men. He dropped to his abdomen and crawled forward ever so slowly. Voices were directly ahead of him. He peered carefully through the brush. Ten meters ahead were three North Koreans in a fox hole to prevent any flanking move of the roadblock below.
Bradley began to worry. He looked at his watch. “Christ, he’s been gone for forty minutes. What’s going on?”
Sergeant Park said, “Sir, I suggest we move away from the vehicle. It is a target for aircraft, and if any North Koreans are in the area, they will come to investigate. I suggest we move up the hill a ways, so we can observe the vehicle and be out of sight ourselves.”
“Good idea, Sergeant Park. I’ll grab a few MREs, and we’ll cut a chogi up the hill.” Bradley opened the back door and grabbed an unopened case of MREs and said, “Lead the way, Sergeant.” After ten minutes of sitting up on the hillside, Captain Koon came dog trotting into view.