The fifteen Kongbang hovercraft carried two battalions of Reconnaissance Bureau amphibious sniper troops, or North Korean special operations forces. The beach had a low grade and an unobstructed approach to the Wonsan airport. The hovercraft would be able to run right up to the closest buildings before discharging the sniper troops. Their first task would be to establish a beachhead for the slower light and medium landing craft that would follow. If all went well, over 2,100 troops and a dozen tanks would be dumped behind the KWP defensive positions. The amphibious troops would be in a perfect position to roll up the seaward flank, just as units from the First Corps conducted a general assault along the entire defensive perimeter on the landward side.
“Admiral! Missile alert!” shouted Song.
Gong burst through the bridge to the starboard wing and saw the four bright flashes in the early morning sky as the missiles were launched from Ryo-do. He hoped the two gunboats saw the flashes as well; otherwise they’d be dead in a little over two minutes. The admiral shook his head; there was nothing he could do to help them. He needed to concentrate on getting the troops ashore.
“Senior Captain, signal the fleet, all ahead flank! Energize radars!”
Hak saw the bright glare from the missiles’ booster rockets as they rose from the island. Shaking his head he mumbled, “Idiots.” They’d just wasted half of their firepower by launching an attack on what were undoubtedly decoy ships. The politically reliable KWP soldiers didn’t seem to understand what was happening; at least he hoped that was the case.
“Ah, see Captain! My comrades have already begun the attack. It is time for us to move out,” squealed the major. Hak almost laughed at the man’s naïveté.
“Very well,” acknowledged the captain. “Helmsman, ahead two-thirds, steer course one zero zero.”
The young soldier looked down at the control panel, his eyes darting back and forth as he tried to find the throttle. Grumbling, Hak walked over, followed closely by the political commissar. Pointing to a lever, Hak said, “This. Move it up two notches.”
As the ship began to move, the loudspeaker suddenly blared, “MULTIPLE RADAR EMISSIONS, BEARING IS TO THE LEFT, FIVE DEGREES.”
“There are our targets, Captain, as expected,” smirked the major.
“Captain! Missiles have been launched from Ryo-do. They are not heading in our direction! And we have numerous ESM hits on surface search radars, all coming from the DPRK fleet.”
Park looked up and saw the four missile icons as they moved slowly from the island. They were Russian Styx variants, or perhaps KN-01 cruise missiles. Either way, they were slow, high fliers, easy targets. But most importantly, they weren’t coming toward his ships. Still, someone had just launched missiles and the large formation had lit off all their sensors, and that changed everything. “Stand by to energize radars!”
As soon as the boosters cut out and fell away, Gong lost sight of the missiles in the darkness. Flashes from near the horizon meant the two gunboats were firing their guns and chaff launchers. Silently he urged them on. Thirty seconds later, two bright flashes suddenly bloomed. At least two missiles had hit, and flames could now be seen dancing along the darkened skyline. Turning back toward the island, Gong saw a glowing line of fire along the coast of Ryo-do. Raising his binoculars, he could see the launchers were burning furiously. An explosion or two later, and the command vehicle was engulfed as well. Satisfied, Gong watched as the hovercraft screamed by his frigate at forty-five knots.
“Energize the surface search radar,” ordered Hak. The KPW soldier looked at the major, awaiting confirmation of the order.
“Is that wise, Captain?” asked the commissar. His hand hovered near his holster.
“If you want to shoot missiles, then we don’t have a choice,” lied Hak.
“Very well. Energize the radar, Sergeant.” The soldier looked around for the transmit button. Completely frustrated, Hak walked over and pushed the man out of the way, turned on the radar, and put his face on the viewing hood.
After a few sweeps he barked, “Firing bearing, green one zero, range thirteen kilometers.”
“What kind of foolishness is this, Captain?” yelled the major as he pulled his pistol. “What do you mean by green?”
Hak rolled his eyes. The man was utterly clueless. He screamed, “Green! As in starboard! To your right!” The captain raised his right hand to emphasize his point. “The firing bearing is right one zero degrees, firing range is one three kilometers! Have your men enter that data in the fire control computer and quickly. You don’t have much time before they figure out what is going on and shoot missiles at us!”
The political commissar hesitated, then nodded curtly to the phone talker, who passed the firing data to the missile control console. Moments later the soldier reported, “Missile firing data entered.”
“Fire!” shouted Hak.
“Comrade Vice Admiral, we have a surface search radar close by, bearing green zero zero seven degrees” reported Song. The vice admiral marched over to the frigate’s radar repeater and looked along that bearing. A faint blob showed briefly. He knew exactly what he was looking at.
“Urgent missile attack!” commanded Gong. “Firing bearing, green zero zero seven degrees, range one zero kilometers. Fire four missiles!”
The two North Korean combatants fired almost simultaneously, with four missiles leaping from each ship’s launch tubes. The missiles climbed rapidly, jettisoned their boosters, and dropped just as quickly back down to low altitude, skimming the water’s surface. It took only forty seconds for the missiles to cover the distance between the two ships.
Gong watched with fascination as the four missiles launched from the hostile patrol craft passed just in front of the Najin-class frigate’s bow. The seekers soon activated, but not before they had passed — they never had a chance to see the target.
Hak eyed the major as the commissar watched the missiles fly off toward the fleet. The KWP commissar waited impatiently for the expected glorious result, but there were no explosions. Enraged, the major turned and roared, “How could we possibly miss all of those ships? You intentionally sent them off in the wrong direction!”
The angry man lunged toward Hak and struck him across the face with his pistol grip. The captain was thrown to the floor, dazed.
“You shall die for your treason!” snarled the major.
The North Korean captain struggled to regain his senses from the blow. Once his vision came back into focus, he saw the crimson-hued face of the political commissar. Then Hak started laughing. It was the last thing the major heard.
Gong looked on with smug satisfaction. Two of the missiles had slammed into the surface effect ship, essentially disintegrating it. Looking through his binoculars, all that remained was a pool of burning fuel on the water, dotted with bits of floating debris. Now there would be nothing to stop him from putting the troops ashore.