Two more Koreans appeared, a man and woman in their late thirties. Using the photo guide they’d prepared, Vitale identified them as one of the cultural attachés and his wife. Although handcuffed, they walked in under their own power, in time to hear the last part of Vitale’s speech. Their expressions shifted from worried to terrified, especially when they saw how furious Ambassador Soon was.
“Please, we wish to defect!” the woman said. Her husband, looking downcast, simply nodded agreement.
Soon looked like he wanted to say something to them, but by now had gained control of his anger. He was still furious, but remained silent.
General Tae Seok-won watched through binoculars from a spot near the edge of the park. Two people had shown up. Jeup Do-bin was thin, even for a North Korean, and his lined face made him looked over sixty, although he was probably younger. His hair was only lightly threaded with silver. Jeup had been a deputy intelligence minister under the Kim regime, but had joined the party faction early on. Tae knew he’d become one of their most effective military commanders.
The other party faction representative was a woman, Lee Su-mi. General Tae knew of her. She headed the Pyongyang “Workers’ Union,” which had little overt power as a labor union, but massive influence throughout the party bureaucracy. She was younger than Jeup, perhaps forty, and had a broad, almost square face. It didn’t look like she smiled a lot.
The fact that Tae faced two people instead of one meant that the party faction was divided, unable to agree on a single leader or a single policy. It would make his task twice as hard.
General Tae had waited in his vehicle, a conspicuously unarmed and open-topped GAZ jeep, until the party representatives had entered the plaza. There had been no agreement on how they would arrive, or who would come. Or even that they would arrive unarmed. Tae wore his sidearm. The others, although in civilian clothes, had plenty of places they could conceal a pistol. Lee Su-mi wore a hanbok, the high-waisted flowing traditional Korean dress that Kim had decreed women should wear, and she could hide a grenade launcher under that.
Lee walked a little in front, so she must be the nominal leader, but either Jeup wouldn’t acknowledge her lead, or the faction didn’t trust her negotiating skills. Tae could accept that. Trust was in especially short supply these days.
When the two were about the same distance from the pavilion as the spot where Tae’s jeep was parked, he stepped out and motioned to his aide. The vehicle roared off, and Tae went to meet them, reaching the first steps almost the same instant they did.
Taedongmun Park lay on the north and west side of the Taedong River. Technically, it was party faction territory, and Tae had chosen the area for the meeting based partly on that point. He wanted the meeting, and was willing to come to them.
He’d chosen a pavilion near the water, originally meant to shade dignitaries during public events, including water displays. Without any walls or interior structures, it was completely open. He was sure there would be observers from the party faction watching for any sign of treachery, just like the men he had on his side of the river.
The pavilion had sustained some damage. The colorful tile floor was littered with rubble, and he’d noticed scorch marks on the steps. But while there might be a few holes in the roof, the structure was sound.
The general stepped gratefully into the shade and walked toward the center, stopping a few meters away from the other two. “Thank you for meeting with me,” Tae began in a polite tone.
“Get on with it,” Lee said harshly. “You asked for a cease-fire. You asked for us to meet here with only an hour’s notice. What is so urgent?”
Tae refused to be irritated. “Do you have somewhere else you need to be, Lee-dongmu?” Tae used one of the words that translated as “comrade.” Under the Kims’ rule, they had replaced most of the other terms and honorifics Koreans traditionally had used. This particular word implied equal or lower social standing.
“Stop wasting my time!” Lee insisted. She looked at the opposite riverbank, as if she was checking for snipers. They were there, of course, but she’d never spot them.
“Don’t worry. The cease-fire will last for at least another hour,” Tae replied, “and hopefully longer than that. The Chinese have crossed the border in strength.”
“My grandmother knows that,” Lee replied coldly, “and she’s been dead for twenty years. Did you know the Southerners have crossed the border?”
Tae bit back his immediate reply, and forced himself to ignore the insult. Stay on topic. “Then why are we fighting each other? Foreign forces have invaded our country, and we are making their job easier.”
Lee looked as if the last thing she wanted to do was to join forces, but Jeup Do-bin spoke for the first time, asking, “What do you propose?” Lee shot her colleague a sharp look, but remained silent.
“Complete integration of both forces. Existing commanders retain in place up through battalion level. Brigade and higher commands distributed equally to both sides. I command, with one of your people as my deputy. One of your people can also have command of the unified artillery. We ration the supply—”
“And you have support of the rest of the General Staff?” Lee interrupted.
“I am the senior officer of what remains of the General Staff.”
“Your ranks have thinned somewhat,” Jeup remarked.
“But we are still more numerous than you.”
“We occupy most of the Kim faction’s territory now.”
“After we destroyed their leadership with our rocket attack,” Tae responded. He didn’t need to mention that the rockets had been armed with nerve gas. It was a gentle reminder that he’d done it once. He’d let them wonder if he could do it again.
Lee scowled and asked, “Why should you have command of the combined forces?”
Tae smiled, and almost laughed. “Because I’m a professional soldier. Because you allowed survivors of the Kim leadership to escape to the north while your troops were looting their headquarters.” He saw their surprised expressions and nodded. “We have many sources of information.”
“You think you would do a better job?”
“I already am,” Tae replied forcefully. “I’m looking at the overall situation, and I understand that if we immediately join our forces and reorient our defenses, we may be able to hold off the South Koreans, come to terms with them, and then present the Chinese with a unified force. Hopefully, the Chinese army will then withdraw without a fight.”
“Work with the Southerners?” Jeup asked, astounded. “That’s completely unacceptable.”
Lee Su-mi vigorously nodded her complete agreement. “It’s treason!”
“Against who?” The general looked at them, suddenly unsure of their grip on reality. He took a few steps, pacing back and forth, and finally turned back to face them. “What would you do?”
Lee looked over to her negotiating partner, and Juep explained. “Our military staff has discussed the problem, and we are not opposed to a nonaggression pact with the General Staff. We then meet the Chinese threat to the north, while you hold off the southern invasion. We turn the city into a fortress, and make them pay for every meter with a hundred enemy soldiers. Faced with unacceptable casualties, the invaders will come to terms.”