Rhee studied the analysis of the Bongmu weapons depot. Artillery shells with nerve gas, according to the intelligence they had, for divisional and corps artillery. The garrison was supposed to be about a company of about a hundred men, which meant only a third or so on duty at any given time. The ten-man squad would have had no problems with a force of that size. But if someone were moving WMD ammunition, there would be additional security. How much?
The swaying motion of the helicopter distracted Rhee for a moment. He wasn’t prone to motion sickness, thank goodness, but he took a moment to look up and settle his inner ear. Master Sergeant Oh, his comrade from his first mission into the North, sat across the cabin from him, securely belted in. Oh had strained his right shoulder on his second raid during Gangrim, and had been assigned to light duty until it recovered. Rhee could relate to that. Rather than send him to the rear, which Oh had loudly but respectfully resisted, Rhee had chosen him as his personal escort.
Oh could still shoot a pistol, but the sergeant’s primary task was to watch the colonel’s back in the field. Rhee always carried both a K5 pistol and K7 submachine gun, so as long as he wasn’t blindsided, he could take care of himself.
“One minute out.”
Rhee acknowledged the copilot’s message and checked his gear. “We’re being met,” the copilot reported, which told Rhee the landing zone was secure and the fight at Bongmu was over.
The helicopter set down in the clear space in front of the depot’s gate. The compound was relatively small, maybe five hundred meters square enclosed in double-layered fencing. A guard tower at each corner was anchored by a bunker built into its base. A few wooden buildings inside the wire were backed with several rows of angular concrete structures. Rhee knew each would have a heavy door and contain several hundred artillery shells loaded with chemical warfare agents. Outside the fence, the ground had been cleared, and kept clear, for a hundred meters all around. Beyond that was a ragged wood line.
The towers and a few of the buildings showed marks from the combat, and numerous trails of smoke curled and merged into a haze that filled the air and stung his eyes. Rhee didn’t see anyone in protective gear, so he assumed it was just smoke. He also noted the blackened hulks of two armored vehicles. Those were not listed as part of the depot’s garrison.
Lieutenant Gung Ji-han waited nearby on one knee. It was light enough to see his expression, and Rhee knew the news wouldn’t be good.
As the cabin door opened and Rhee stepped out, Gung stood and saluted solemnly. “Mission failure, sir. At least two large trucks left the compound during our attack. An early estimate is at least eight pallets of 152mm ammunition were on them.” He pointed to a road that ran past the depot. “They were headed north. My UAV controller is trying to locate them now.”
“Casualties?” Rhee asked.
“Four of my team are wounded. Three are mobile, but Corporal Park has two bullets in the chest and my medic’s fighting to keep him alive. The medevac helicopter is en route. At least thirty KPA dead, with another fifty-plus prisoners and wounded. We know there are stragglers in the woods, but we don’t know their intention.”
Rhee nodded acknowledgment. Many North Korean soldiers had used combat as an excuse to desert, but others simply became separated during the action and might still be motivated to fight. “All right, elaborate,” he ordered.
Gung kept it short. “The trucks were already here when we landed, along with another company of troops and the two fighting vehicles. We called for UAV support, but their ETA was too long. We could see the trucks were preparing to leave, so we attacked.”
Rhee nodded his understanding. It was a difficult situation — two or three times the expected odds, and facing the immediate prospect of losing control of the WMDs. “I would have chosen to attack as well,” Rhee encouraged the lieutenant.
But it was still a loss. Forty percent casualties and they had not stopped the trucks, after all that. And Gung’s team would have to be rebuilt before they could take on another mission. He’d get a detailed debrief of the combat later, but for the moment, he would endorse the lieutenant’s decision.
Gung seemed to take some reassurance from Rhee’s statement, but there was a lot to do. “Where are your people now?” Rhee asked.
“My medic’s with Corporal Park, the UAV controller’s looking for the trucks, two are guarding the prisoners, two more are searching the woods, and the last two are checking the buildings for stragglers and documents.”
“All right, Lieutenant. Make sure your UAV controller transmits the data on the trucks to brigade. I’m going to get you some help. You can’t provide security with only six effectives. They’ll…”
A dirt-streaked trooper ran up and saluted the pair. Rhee recognized him as one of Gung’s team, but couldn’t remember his name. He was winded, and the soldier’s expression held bad news. “In the woods,” he reported between breaths, pointing. “Bodies. Lots of them.”
Rhee said, “Show us,” and they followed the soldier back at something just less than a dead run. They slowed at the wood line, moving along a path through thick brush and young trees. About ten meters into the woods, the smell reached them, and they all gagged at the stench of rot and decay.
Another ten meters brought them to the scene. A stream ran through the woods, although in August there was no water in it. The V-shaped gully, about two meters deep and two meters across, was choked with bodies. Rhee could see civilians in work clothes, soldiers in DPRK uniforms, the bright colors of both women’s and children’s clothing. His mind flashed back to the bodies he and Oh found murdered and robbed what seemed like a long time ago. If that was a crime, what was this?
Gung had turned away and was clutching a tree, vomiting and shaking with reaction. Oh had tears in his eyes. Their guide was on one knee, and appeared to be praying.
Rhee Han-gil felt the weight of his command more than he ever had. It was his job to know, and he forced himself to walk over to the edge. From that angle, he got a better view of the depth of the gully, and could see the corpses jumbled together. The ones toward the bottom were discolored from decay, and he tried to guess the number of dead. His mind rebelled, but there were at least a hundred, maybe twice that number.
His stomach churned, not just from the stench, but the thought of so much pointless death. A crime like this should reek, he decided. It should foul the air and rise until the heavens were repelled. What about the men who did this? Did they carry the smell with them?
Rhee’s emotions collapsed from a whirl of different feelings into a tight knot of anger. He ordered brusquely, “With me,” and strode quickly down the path, back the way they’d come and toward the depot. Lieutenant Gung, still wiping his mouth, followed with the others.
As they emerged from the woods, without breaking stride, Rhee asked, “Where are the prisoners?”
Gung answered, “We put the enlisted men in their barracks, and the officers and noncoms in two empty ammunition bunkers.”
“The officers, then.”
The soldier left to return to his duties, while the lieutenant increased his pace to take the lead. As they entered the camp, another trooper ran up to the group. He was heading for the lieutenant, but stopped when he saw the colonel, bracing and saluting crisply. “Sir, Private Geun Seo-bin.”
Rhee returned his salute. This soldier wasn’t as distraught as the first, but obviously had disturbing news. “Report.”