Kevin had been having flashbacks of the fighting since he’d arrived in Korea. The crisis, then meeting Rhee after so long, had brought all the memories rushing back, both good and bad. He didn’t fight his recollections, but he didn’t encourage them, either.
This was still Korea, but a very different war. And this time he wasn’t some junior officer, trying to run a platoon or a company. Kevin felt the weight of his rank. Any mistakes he made now would impose a far greater penalty on others instead of himself.
Bin followed the trail up for almost ten minutes, and while the area was supposed to be secure, Kevin kept his carbine close by. Dense woods came right up to the edge of the road, and could have hidden anyone or anything.
The Korean lieutenant parked the jeep below the crest of the ridge, and readied his own weapon before leading Kevin into the trees. The still air was filled with green light filtering through the leaves. Quietly threading their way past denser clumps of brush and fallen branches, they reached the ridgeline quickly, then descended the other side.
Rhee’s observation post was a horizontal crease on the northern side of the hill, about twenty meters below the crest. It had been improved and hidden so well that Kevin was only meters from the spot before he could tell where the natural vegetation ended and the camouflage began. He had to step in and down. They’d deepened the fold until the forward edge of the dugout was chest-high.
Kevin Little’s old comrade was busy observing the terrain with a set of tripod-mounted artillery scopes, dictating, while an enlisted man took notes. Another soldier operated a tripod-mounted video camera with a long lens pointed at the city, while another tripod held a laser rangefinder, ready for use. Behind them was a rack for their rifles, probably taken from a personnel carrier, and a map table. In the corner, two soldier-technicians were working on a complex communications center.
The ridgeline they were perched on was the last high ground between the ROK forces and Pyongyang. The North Korean capital straddled the Taedong River, which twisted and snaked across a wide plain. Built-up areas were intermixed with cultivated fields right up to the city limits. Pyongyang itself still had a dramatic skyline, although Kevin knew at least a few of the taller buildings had collapsed from damage, or been deliberately brought down.
Smoke enclosed the city in a dirty gray dome, fed by countless fires. Certainly nobody had tried to actually put any of them out, and Kevin could see whole blocks blackened, and others still burning, charred clusters adding to the overall haze.
Lieutenant Bin handed Kevin a pair of binoculars, but the city limits were at least ten kilometers away. The magnified image gave him a little more detail, but the heat haze and smoke prevented him from seeing much. He spotted a burning tank in a crossroads near the outskirts, and what were probably entrenchments in some open ground. It was too far to see if the trenches were occupied.
That made Kevin think of Rhee’s more powerful binoculars. He lowered the glasses and turned to see Rhee watching him, smiling broadly. The Korean colonel was happy, almost euphoric.
“In at the finish? That’s great!” Rhee offered his hand and they shook hands warmly. “Welcome to the end of the Kim regime, Colonel Little!”
Rhee pointed out toward the plain. “I’ve got eight teams spread out around the southern edge of the city, observing and reporting. They’ve encountered a few armed deserters, but all the organized military forces are inside the city.
“And they’re still fighting each other!” Rhee grabbed Kevin’s shoulder in excitement. “All the observers report small-arms and artillery fire continuing inside the city.”
“When will you take the city?” Kevin didn’t even use the word “attempt” in his question. Success was a foregone conclusion.
Rhee frowned. “Tomorrow morning, maybe ten hundred by the time everyone regroups and reloads, but I don’t think we should wait. We should go now!”
“Do you have the troops?” Kevin was more than surprised. He hadn’t seen any camps or staging areas on his flight north.
Rhee nodded, still smiling. “Units are already moving through this ridgeline to jumping-off positions for tomorrow’s attack. Others are coming in from the open ground to our west. We have the lead elements of several battalions of mechanized infantry already in position; the rest of each unit is moving up. I say ‘don’t stop.’ Just keep moving forward.”
“Without a plan?” Kevin asked. They couldn’t have had the time needed to develop a proper operations plan, especially to take a city. Urban fighting could destroy an army. Buildings, especially ruined ones, made excellent fortifications. Just ask the Germans about Stalingrad.
“We divide the city into sectors using the street map. I don’t know if I’ve told you this, but I memorized the layout of this place years ago.” He pointed toward Pyongyang. “In my mind, I’ve spent as much time there as I have in Seoul.
“We can have the troops in each sector deal with their own opposition, with helicopter gunships in support. They drive straight for the city center. I’ve already picked sector commanders, and as new units arrive, we use them as reinforcements, or send them into one of the empty sectors, always in strength. My teams have identified landing zones all over the outskirts of the city. We can bring in infantry units by helicopter right up to the edge of the battle.
“And the US Air Force is in the fight now!” Rhee continued happily. “Combined with our own aircraft, we don’t have to wait for artillery. I know US Army gunships are flying north. They’ll be able to add their firepower soon as well.”
Rhee gestured toward the city. “Look at them. They’re disorganized, and we know they’re understrength and badly supplied. Do you still think we should wait?”
“What are you waiting for, then?” Kevin asked.
“I submitted my plan to General Kwon earlier today. He’s taking it to headquarters right now, and he’s pretty persuasive.”
“Exactly what is the range of a Hwaseong-5 missile?” President Wen asked the defense minister. China’s Central Military Commission had quickly gathered for an urgent meeting after hearing the news about the missile attack on Seoul.
Defense Minister Yu’s response was qualified. “It’s a copy of the old Soviet R-17. The Americans call it the Scud B, and Second Bureau’s always assumed the range was similar, about three hundred kilometers. But if the North Koreans have added decoys…”
“Still, that barely crosses our border, if it was fired from the same position as they did today.” The PLAAF commander was dismissive. “And it was a conventional warhead.”
“This time,” the defense minister countered. “One scenario the intelligence people have suggested was that this was a ‘live test.’ The DPRK has never fired a ballistic missile operationally. Previous missile firings were always carefully planned and rehearsed for weeks ahead of time. They were more for propaganda than training. Now that they’ve done it once in real-world conditions, they’ll go back and correct any problems before firing missiles with nuclear or chemical warheads.”
That got their attention. The defense minister pressed his point. “And it’s not about just the old R-17. That’s relatively short-ranged. Their Nodong reaches over a thousand kilometers and can hit Beijing. The Musudan has a range four times that, and can reach almost every place in China except the westernmost parts of Xinjiang and Tibet. The Taepodong goes even further, to Tibet and India.