“I wouldn’t waste a long-range missile on a test. They were able to pick Seoul because it was within range. And they missed. I imagine they’re working to fix that problem.”
“Do we have any idea how many missiles or what types the North Koreans have left?” the air force commander asked.
The defense minister started to answer, but the navy commander interjected, “More importantly, who controls the nuclear warheads? Have the South Koreans captured any?”
President Wen cut in. “If they’d captured any, and especially if they thought they’d found all of them, we would have heard about it. The South Koreans would be thumping their chests and shouting the news.”
Yu pressed a key on the controller. A map of Korea appeared. An irregular red line crossed the peninsula, and the map was dotted with symbols. “The line shows the farthest we know that South Korean units have advanced. It’s safe to assume that these sites behind that line have been captured and examined.” He used a light pointer to highlight different installations in the area north of Pyongyang.
“The capital is the ROK’s current goal, and is certainly a major objective, but three-quarters of the country lies north of that, with dozens of sites that haven’t been touched. The circles mark known chemical weapons locations, the triangles nuclear sites. The Second Bureau says the confidence level of these locations is moderate to high.” The minister smiled. “But the head of the Second Bureau also took pains to remind me of the obvious fact that any of these weapons could be moved, so his confidence level is perhaps not as high as it once was.”
The defense minister put the controller down and turned to face Wen. “This is why, Comrade Chairman, fifty kilometers across the border is not nearly enough! We have a responsibility to remove the threat these weapons pose to China. We have the forces already in position, and now we have starting points across the Yalu.”
“We’ve seen exactly one missile launched, and it was aimed at Seoul,” the navy commander insisted.
“Can you promise that they will all be aimed at Seoul?” the defense minister retorted. “Until a few hours ago, a ballistic missile attack was only a possibility. Now it is a reality, and what’s left as a possibility? In this chaos, there is no guarantee that whoever controls those weapons, and we have no idea who they are,” he added, “will not lash out in many directions, including ours. Is our trust of North Korea strong enough to accept that risk?”
Nobody had an answer for that. President Wen surveyed the group, but whether afraid to speak, or out of ideas, they were silent. Then he looked over at the army commander. He knew the general well. In his younger years, Wen had been a political commissar in the ground forces and they had served together several times. “General Shu, you’ve been silent. Your troops would be making the advance. I’d like to hear your thoughts.”
Shu didn’t answer right away, but after a moment, he shrugged and said, “I fervently hope the chance of some North Korean faction firing any kind of missile toward us is small, but right now, the risk is as high as it’s ever going to be. I’ve been trying to imagine our fate in the eyes of the nation if we let something as horrible as that occur.”
The army general let that sink in, then added, “And if the land we occupy now will be used as a bargaining chip later, then I’d like as big a chip as possible.”
Wen didn’t ask for a show of hands. He ordered the defense minister, “The fifty-kilometer limitation is removed. Advance as far into DPRK territory as necessary to ensure the safety of our citizens.”
Chapter 14 — Second Battle of Pyongyang
Tae stared at the map in stark disbelief. The picture it presented was devastating. The general looked slowly over at his aide. Tae’s next orders would spell either survival or doom. He had to know if he was seeing an exact representation of their situation. With a low but steady voice, Tae demanded, “Is this information accurate, Major Ryeon?”
The newly promoted North Korean officer was caked in dirt; a fresh wound on his forehead was covered with a field dressing. He looked worn out and hungry, but it was his crestfallen expression that drove home what he had to say. “I’m sorry, Comrade General, but the intelligence from our Second and Third Corps colleagues has been verified by our cyber warfare soldiers. The map is unfortunately accurate. Pyongyang is almost completely surrounded by imperialist forces.”
Tae almost growled as he threw the map to the floor. He knew this was coming, but it didn’t make accepting the humiliating reality any easier. He paced around the bunker, rubbing his sore shoulder. Those blind KWP fools had ruined their best chance of organizing a proper defense of the city. Tae had very few options left to him, and none had even a poor chance of success. He knew what he had to do, but the soldier in him found it repulsive. The general suddenly felt very tired.
“There is one more thing, General,” said Ryeon quietly. “I regret to inform you that Lieutenant General Yoo Ryang-ho is dead. He was killed in an artillery attack on his headquarters earlier this afternoon. Colonel Mok has taken command of the Third Corps.”
Tae nodded silently, his stern face disguising the pain he felt. He couldn’t afford to lose Yoo, not now, not after the warring factions had finally pulled together.
It was the day after the disastrous meeting with Lee and Jeup that a runner approached Tae’s position waving a white flag. The message was simple. A senior military member of the Korean Workers’ Party faction asked to meet Tae at the place and time of his choosing to discuss terms for a truce. Tae’s reply was equally simple — same location, one hour.
When he arrived at the Taedongmun Park plaza, he saw a single man standing in the open. The man was wearing a Korean People’s Army uniform, an encouraging beginning. As Tae approached, he soon recognized the individual as a classmate and colleague: Lieutenant General Yoo Ryang-ho. Tae hid his surprise as he continued picking a path through the rubble his people had created only the day before. He was careful to scan the area as he walked, the botched double-cross still fresh in his mind. But Yoo was the closest thing to a good friend a senior North Korean military officer could hope to have. Tae hoped this was still the case.
“Greetings, General Tae,” spoke Yoo as he rendered a snappy salute.
“Greetings to you as well, Comrade Lieutenant General,” replied Tae. After returning the honor, he added, “I’m pleased to see you are still alive, Yoo-dongmu.”
“Thank you, sir.” Yoo approached Tae slowly, arms up, hands open. “I regret the foolish actions of my political leaders yesterday. The military council was not consulted on their plan. I would have cautioned them not to underestimate you, and that you rarely do things in a small way.”
Tae had to laugh; Yoo always had a way with words. “I suppose a battalion-level artillery barrage could be considered excessive by some.”
“Perhaps,” Yoo smiled as he stopped less than a meter from Tae. “Nonetheless, it was quite effective. I am here to listen to your proposal.”
General Tae was momentarily surprised. That Yoo was here didn’t change the fact that the KWP faction was fractured. Could this man speak for them? He had to know. “Do you have authority to negotiate, Comrade Lieutenant General? What about the Korean Workers’ Party leadership?”
“I am authorized to conclude a truce with you, if I believe it is in our best interest. As for the ‘political leadership,’ those ignorant fools will no longer interfere with military matters.”
Tae nodded. He understood Yoo’s explanation to mean the party’s leaders were either dead or imprisoned. He really didn’t care, as long as they were out of the way. “Very well, Yoo-dongmu. Here is my proposal.”