Pierce was there almost before he finished speaking. “We’re set, Lieutenant. One of the Dragon launchers is acting up a bit, but Ramos is working on it. Should have it up in a couple of minutes.”
“Well, he goddamned well better. Christ, what if we get hit by tanks in the next couple of minutes!” Kevin realized he was starting to sound like he’d lost it and tried to calm down. He got down off the parapet and squatted in the trench next to Pierce. “Look, are we picking anything up on our motion sensors or starlight scopes?”
“Negative. There doesn’t seem to be anything moving or warm out there.”
“Then this could all be just a false alarm.”
Pierce shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. Could be a long night, though, whichever way it goes.”
A shout from down the line brought them both to their feet. “Flares! Flares to the east!”
Kevin whipped his periscope around to stare down to the right. There, about five miles away, he could see two magnesium flares swaying away south on their parachutes. He found himself praying under his breath. God, oh God, please don’t let this be real. Don’t let there be a war. Please, God.
“Could be an attack down that way.” Pierce still sounded calm. “Might just be an infiltration attempt though.” He cupped a hand to an ear. “I don’t hear any shooting.”
Rhee’s voice drifted down the line, high and excited. “Those flares are coming from a point just over Azure Dragon. That’s the ROK post on our right.”
Kevin yelled back, “Well, get on the horn and ask them what the hell’s going on.”
“Lieutenant?” Pierce coughed lightly to catch his attention. “Next time you and Lieutenant Rhee want to have a conversation, you might not want to yell it all over creation. If there are gooks down there, I figure they probably know we’re awake and ready for ’em now.”
Kevin felt his ears burning. Pierce was right and there wasn’t any way around it. He’d make a stupid mistake. The kind that Major Donaldson had warned could get his men killed. He looked down at Corporal Jones. “Uh, pass the word to Lieutenant Rhee that he’s to report here after he’s talked to that Korean outpost.”
They waited for several more minutes, but no more flares popped up to light the night sky, and everything stayed quiet. Rhee came jogging down the trench and jumped up beside Kevin and Pierce.
“I talked to the CO over at Azure Dragon. It seems that one of their new conscripts got overexcited and fired off a pair of flares. He’ll be disciplined, of course.”
Kevin knew that meant the poor little sod was probably getting the living crap beat out of him. And just at this moment, he didn’t care a bit.
Then Jones was grabbing for his elbow again. “Sir! It’s the captain!”
Kevin picked up the phone with a feeling of dread. Was this it? Was the balloon going up? “Alfa Echo Five Six, this is Five Two.”
“Alfa Echo Five Two, this is Alfa Echo Five Six. Stand down. I repeat, stand down. Resume normal schedule. That was a drill, Lieutenant, a real McLaren Special.”
“Acknowledged, Five Six.” He tried to sound cool and collected, but he knew that Matuchek had to be able to hear the immense relief in his voice. He could see Pierce and Rhee visibly relaxing at what they could hear of the conversation.
“Well, Lieutenant. Are your britches full of brown organic matter?” Matuchek didn’t sound quite as pissed off as he usually did, despite the words.
“Not quite, Five Six. Close, but not quite.” Pray God that Matuchek didn’t ever find out just how close to the truth that was.
“Well, Lieutenant. If that McLaren Special didn’t fill ’em up, I guess we might make a soldier of you yet. See you back at camp tomorrow morning. Echo Five Six out.”
Kevin hung up, feeling drained and shaky. But relieved, too. He’d screwed up, but it hadn’t been for real. And he still had time to learn.
CHAPTER 10
Revelations
“Comrade General. COMRADE GENERAL!”
Lieutenant General Cho Hyun-Jae opened his eyes. The lights were on, revealing Colonel Chung, his aide, bending over the bed. He came fully awake.
“What is it, Chung?” He automatically started getting dressed. Whatever it was, if it was important enough to wake him, it was important enough to get dressed for.
“Sir, the enemy has just gone on alert. We’ve seen movement into emplacements …”
Cho headed out the door, buttoning his tunic as he ran, with the colonel jogging along behind. The bunker had been constructed so that his quarters were only moments away from the II Corps operations center.
The door was open. Cho slowed down, took a deep breath, and entered an organized pandemonium. Officers and enlisted men were streaming into the room, taking positions at map boards, teletypes, and desks. A huge map occupied one side of the room, detailing the sector of the front around Kaesong, his responsibility. General Chyong Dal-Joong, his second-in-command, stood nearby discussing some point on it with the staff. He saw Cho come into the room and saluted. The rest scattered to their stations.
“Report, General. Another drill?” Cho finished buttoning his tunic collar while studying the array of painted wooden blocks used to show enemy units on the big map.
“Probably, sir. We’ve seen no movement behind the front line, but all of the imperialist troops have manned their combat positions. It would not be an auspicious time to start the liberation.” The left side of Chyong’s mouth creased upward in a lopsided smile.
Cho idly wondered how long it would be before his second-in-command’s sense of humor landed him in a State Political Security Department detention camp.
He yawned. “I think they know when I am up late and do this just to ruin my sleep. Major Ko!” He beckoned the slim, narrow-faced intelligence officer over to him.
“Major, your observations, please.”
“Yes, sir. I believe that this is an exercise. The enemy rotates the troops manning the perimeter on a regular weekly cycle. About once every two weeks he holds an alert. The alert is always in the early morning, and late in the week. Thursday is the most frequently selected day. Only troops in place are ordered to stand to. No additional units are staged forward. That is what has happened this time.”
“As far as we know,” Cho corrected.
Ko looked a little crestfallen. “Yes, sir. As far as we know.”
Cho quoted, “‘Revolution in military thought is built on a base of knowledge, not assumptions.’ ”
“Yes, sir.” Ko bowed sharply, accepting the correction.
Chyong looked at his superior. “Maybe our enemies should read the Great Leader’s thoughts. These imperialists are too predictable.”
“Or they are trying to put us to sleep. What’s our readiness?”
“Excellent. All of our positions were manned within five minutes.”
“Hold our troops there until dawn. Have them conduct subunit training in place on what their roles would be in case the imperialists attacked. Also, move the field commanders’ meeting up from oh seven hundred to oh five hundred. Since we’re all up anyway, let’s get an early start.”
While Chyong hurried away with his order, Cho pondered the map. The first support units slated for Red Phoenix had just arrived in their new camps near the DMZ. Could the imperialists have gotten wind of the move? He dismissed the thought as irrational. They’d taken great care in scheduling the troop trains to avoid times when American spy satellites were over Korea. The Americans couldn’t know anything.
But the worry returned to nag him as he prepared for the morning’s special meeting with his field commanders and other newly arrived senior officers. He fought it off, determined to avoid any thought that might shake his confidence and spoil the presentation he had planned. Kim Jong-Il still insisted that Red Phoenix be kept a closely guarded secret, but he had finally accepted Cho’s argument that he be allowed to begin molding the proper “aggressive” spirit in his officers and men. This meeting would be a first step in that direction.