Their mission had already succeeded. Because they had interdicted this bridge for a while, the guards on all the bridges would have to be increased, and also on tunnels, junctions, any choke point. Any South Korean soldier would be suspected of being a North Korean saboteur, and no truck driver would be certain of reaching his destination.
“Sergeant!” Yong came running up. “Are the charges to the bridge wired?”
“Yes, sir. And the vehicles and bodies are both booby-trapped.”
“How about the rest of the explosives?”
“Being wired now, sir. Another five minutes at the most.”
Yi looked grim. “We are ready. Tell Corporal Soo to watch the bridge and to blow it if he sees anything approach from the south. Who were you going to put in the outpost?”
“Private Suh, sir. He’s very reliable.”
“I know. Get him up there. Everybody not on ‘sentry duty’ should be watching for the enemy. Otherwise, let’s continue as before. We’ll kill as many of the enemy as we can.”
Chips stomped around on the frozen ground. “How long before those troops get here?”
Hooter answered. “Half an hour, tops. They have to come from Taech’on. Counting time to saddle up, that’s pretty quick.
“Yeah, well, it’s damn cold, there’s enemy commandos in the area, and I’ve got a busted helo to explain.”
Hooter was unconcerned. “When they hear how you detected that North Korean outpost while flying an emergency medical mission, you’ll probably get a medal.”
Tony had to ask, “ ‘Medical mission?’ ”
“Sure, Saint. If you had missed your girl, you would have had a broken heart.” He turned to Chips. “They’ll believe anything. Don’t worry.”
All they could do was wait. They passed the time checking the damage to the helicopter, trying to stay warm, and waiting to see who came down the road first.
Tony heard them first. “Listen, engines.” They were coming from the north.
Anne was trying to tear the envelope of an MRE open. She had planned on skipping breakfast, but hunger and Hutchins’s lecture about “eating when you can” had won her over. Her teeth proved inadequate to the task, and finally she borrowed Bell’s bayonet again.
The convoy, with her truck still in the lead, came around a bend in the road. There was a clearing on the right with a helicopter in it. Hutchins told Bell to slow down, and she spotted three men by the nose of the craft, waving at them.
The captain ordered Bell to pull over and stop, and they all climbed out. Anne stepped out and saw — TONY? — and two other men coming over.
Hutchins couldn’t understand. Miss Larson had seemed like a reserved woman, certainly not the type to display affection for complete strangers.
Hooter and Chips explained the situation to Captain Hutchins and his men while Tony and Anne strolled off to talk. After an initial explanation, Anne’s head was whirling. She didn’t know what to talk about first. His trip to see her, the attack by the commandos, or her trip from Seoul. So she didn’t talk about any of these things. She just listened and looked at Tony.
Their wanderings had taken them back behind the Huey, out of plain sight of the convoy. He was pointing out the damage to the aircraft when he stopped and changed the subject.
“Anne, I was really worried when I heard about the attack on Seoul airport. I… it’s hard to explain.”
She smiled. “Don’t try. I think I understand.”
“No, Anne, I have to tell you how scared I was when I learned about the attack on Kimpo.”
He paused and looked into her eyes. “I thought I’d lost you.” She looked down at the ground, avoiding his gaze, but he continued, “I don’t want to ever lose you, Anne. I love you.”
She looked up at him and smiled. “You sure proved that. A helicopter?”
“Anne, I had to see you.” He explained about the timing.
“Tony, I’m glad you came, but I don’t know how I feel yet. I haven’t got my feelings sorted out.”
“Mine are definitely sorted, but I understand. I just had to tell you where I stood.”
“Well, I kind of like where you’re standing. But a helicopter?” She peered at the machine. “It looks damaged.”
“I’m hoping I can hitch a ride with your convoy after the bridge is cleared. I don’t have any way to get back to Kunsan.”
“I’m glad. We’ll have time to talk.”
“Hey, guys!” Hooter’s call invaded their world. “The Army’s here.”
They walked back to the road. Pulled up next to Anne’s convoy was a new group, four vehicles crammed with Korean soldiers and weapons. Hooter and Chips were talking with a burly-looking captain, who stood lopsidedly. Hutchins and Evans were still deploying their men around the area, in case there were any commandos nearby.
“Tony, this is Captain Cha.” Cha saluted briskly. “Chips and I have been filling him in on what we saw.”
Cha picked up the conversation. “Yes, sir. It’s almost certainly a group of enemy infiltrators. My men and I will clear them out. It cannot be more than a few men, and I have a reinforced platoon.” He looked at the three pilots. “Would you like to accompany us?”
The Americans exchanged quick glances and simultaneously said, “No thanks.” Tony added, “I’ll leave ground combat to the professionals.”
Cha actually looked disappointed, seemed about to try to persuade them, but changed his mind and boarded his jeep. “We will drive up closer to the bridge and then deploy. This shouldn’t take too long. We will send a messenger back when the road is clear.” Saluting, the captain and his troops roared off.
Captain Yi knew that there would be some sort of attempt to clear the bridge, and he was going to make them pay dearly for this piece of territory. They would never get the bridge back, and even the ruins would be expensive.
Private Suh waited in a camouflaged spider hole three hundred meters up the road. He was isolated from the bridge by a small rise, and his hole was dug into the edge of a copse of trees. He had found the time to line his hideout with pine boughs, and outside of the cramped quarters, it was moderately comfortable.
He had been waiting for over an hour, ever since the American helicopter had escaped. He heard the engines, and his rush of excitement and fear at the approach of the enemy was mixed with relief.
A jeep appeared first, then three trucks. The lead jeep held an officer and had a machine gun over the back. As he watched, it pulled off the road, with the officer motioning to the vehicles behind. It slowed and stopped, exactly where his captain had said it would.
The waiting was hardest. If they had dashed off quickly, he might have been helpless, but they were in no hurry to unload. As soon as the last truck had come to a stop, he pushed the plunger.
Claymore mines weighed about ten pounds. They were the size and shape of a telephone book and were not supposed to be buried in the ground. They had two prongs that a soldier could push into the ground. The prongs allowed them to sit on one edge, while wires ran back to electric firing switches. One side of each mine said “Place Toward Enemy.”
They were directional mines. On detonation, plastic explosive fired hundreds of steel balls several hundred feet in a fan-shaped pattern. And the North Korean commandos had planted five of them in an arc, facing the road.
A mixture of snow, smoke, and fragments filled the air, followed by screams and splanging sounds of metal balls hitting metal.
Suh waited. As the mist thinned, the horror it hid was revealed slowly. Men lay sprawled in the snow, red patches outlining their forms. He could see at least a dozen bodies, and he knew that as yet, he could not have been detected.