Wen frowned as he considered Yu’s suggestion. After a brief moment, he nodded slowly and said, “Unless we wish to change our goal, we must continue.”
Several CMC members shook their heads; the defense minister repeated strongly, “The security of China against a nuclear attack is paramount.”
The president stood. “Then that’s it.” He ordered the foreign minister, “We must make every effort to remind the world that we are doing this on behalf of all Asia. We will not rest until the Kim’s nuclear stockpile is found and destroyed.”
Chapter 17 — Juggernaut
General Tae Seok-won and his battle staff were engulfed by a sea of ROK uniforms. The North Koreans wore camouflage fatigues, just like the other officers and soldiers at Sohn’s forward headquarters. To a civilian, they might have looked the same, but Tae knew that they stood out vividly. The two green colors were different, one darker, the other brighter, and the brown had a reddish tone that contrasted when he stood next to one of the Southerners. It had distracted Tae a little at first, marking him and his men as outsiders, but he was trying to rise above it. He hoped Sohn and the others could get used to it as well.
Sohn had placed his headquarters at Taedong, ten to fifteen miles west of the capital, because the highways were still intact. The South Korean general and his staff were meeting in an open-sided tent. Whether by accident or design, the map table they used faced away from Pyongyang. Tae knew that if he turned to the southeast, he could mark the city’s position by the gray cloud that hung over it. From their position on the city outskirts, he could see the highway, carrying their troops northwest.
The Battle of Pyongyang was over. Now the two armies had to adjust from fighting each other to working together to face the oncoming Chinese. The capital city’s highways had been torn up by fighting long before the South Korean army had arrived, and that battered network now had to support thousands of vehicles and ten times that many men, with their supplies. The first order of business was repositioning both armies along a new defensive line north of the city.
The first task Sohn’s engineers had been assigned, even before restoring electric power or repairing the water system in Pyongyang, was clearing the roads that led out of the city. Youth Hero Highway led west toward Taedong, while Sochon Street led north. Both avenues were completely choked with military traffic pulling out of the city, and movement was frustratingly low.
Everything capable of moving and fighting was being sent north to establish a new defensive position near Sukchon and Sunchon. By the time disparate ROK and KPA troops got there, they had to be ready to fight again, but this time on the same side. Tae and his officers found themselves sharing information with the Southerners that would have gotten them shot just a few weeks earlier: radio procedures, weapons and ammunition inventories, unit strengths. Tae also found he needed more and more resources from Sohn’s forces as additional KPA units declared their loyalty. Fuel and food were the biggest concern, of course, but they also needed artillery. Most of Tae’s had been destroyed in the fighting at Pyongyang.
But there were other, more sensitive issues, such as the investigators that had been “interviewing” his men. “If you want my soldiers to work with yours, they can’t be afraid they’ll be thrown into prison,” Tae demanded.
The intelligence colonel on Sohn’s staff countered, “Some of the men you command were party officials, responsible for human rights violations, or other criminal activity. A lot of them aren’t even soldiers. They’re still wearing civilian clothes.”
Tae bristled at the phrase “criminal activity,” but waited for the colonel to finish. “Immediately after the fifteenth of August, the government issued a general order for all able-bodied men, most of whom were reservists anyway, to be mobilized. Regardless of the clothes they wear, they are soldiers under my command.”
The colonel didn’t back down. “Your own role in the Kim regime is still under investigation as well, General,” he threatened.
“Then perhaps the best thing for my men and I is to defend Pyongyang against whatever Chinese units break through your defenses. Your men can stay outside the city limits.”
General Sohn shook his head. “That isn’t what we agreed to.”
“Neither was criminal prosecution of my troops,” Tae responded sharply. “I’m adding a new condition: blanket amnesty for all the men under my command. It never occurred to me that you would allow this type of thing, but if you are, then we will remain in Pyongyang and you can do without my eight full divisions of veteran soldiers.”
The colonel actually laughed. “That’s the best place for them! They’d crack and run as soon as the Chinese opened fire.”
“That’s enough, Colonel,” snapped Sohn.
Tae laughed. “Really, Colonel? Then please explain how these soldiers— outnumbered, hungry, low on ammunition, and surrounded — held against a full-fledged frontal assault by your best troops. And have you forgotten that I already have many other troops already fighting the Chinese?”
Tae was answering the colonel’s insult, but he made sure to include the general and the rest of his staff in his reply. He then turned to address Sohn directly. “My men are fighting for their homes now, and if they survive to go home, they deserve to live free of revenge.”
General Sohn nodded. “Agreed.”
They came in low from the southwest as fast as they dared, only slowing once they neared their objective. They were in a hurry.
Rhee wasn’t in his personal helicopter this time, but a stock machine of the Ninth Brigade, along with the rest of his five-man team. It had been a short ride, only seventy-five kilometers from their new base outside Pyongyang to Anju, or more specifically to a bridge just west of the city, over the Chongchon River.
He used the ride to work on replacing their top cover. While they had prepped and loaded for the mission, they’d been able to watch a live video feed from a Searcher UAV that they’d sent north of Anju. Chinese troops were coming south, at speed, and the Ninth Brigade was using the UAV to search for the advancing PLA units. Unfortunately, it may have found them, because ten minutes after Rhee’s team took off, the UAV’s signal ceased.
Whether it was to hostile action or some operational accident was impossible to tell. The controllers had lost time while they confirmed that the vehicle was truly gone before launching a replacement. Unfortunately, the UAV was built for endurance, not speed. The Israeli-made UAV, about the size of a Piper Cub private aircraft, traveled just about as slowly. In fact, their Surion helicopters were faster. The UAV would be on station some time after they arrived, but it wasn’t there yet.
As they flew north, Rhee had weighed their options. The Chinese were advancing faster than threatening weather, and he needed to know where they were. In theory, loss of their reconnaissance could be used to justify a mission abort, or at least a delay, but he decided against it. There was no time to reset and start over.
Gangrim Phase II was well underway. Rhee and his Ghosts were once more tracking down North Korean WMDs, this time north of Pyongyang. And with the detailed information from General Tae, they’d seized a number of bunkers that neither the South Korean NIS nor American intelligence knew of. But the intervention of the Chinese had almost doubled their workload. Instead of just removing the threat of chemical or nuclear attack, they now had to also slow the advance of the Chinese army.