“I’m well aware that the necessary steps my government has taken to quell General Chang’s rebellion may have affected some elements in our officer corps.” Park’s eyes shifted away from McLaren’s face and then came back. “But they are necessary, General. The rot was widespread and we must burn it out.”
“Damnit, man, you’re burning the heart out of your army.” McLaren lowered his voice. “Have you been up to the DMZ lately? Have you seen what’s happening up there?”
Park shook his head and said stiffly, “Matters of state have kept me here in the city.”
“Well, let me tell you, General Park, your ‘necessary measures’ are a fucking disaster for military preparedness. I’ve never seen morale so low. Christ, how do you expect the troops to react to seeing their officers hauled off under guard?”
“Loyal officers have been left in command. That should be enough.”
McLaren shook his head. “No, it’s not. You really think your troops are going to follow a bunch of HQ Milquetoast ass kissers into battle?”
“If it is necessary, yes.”
McLaren took a deep breath. Time to calm down before he throttled the obstinate s.o.b. “General, it’s my duty as Combined Forces Commander to ensure the readiness of all the units under my authority. I can’t do that while you’re stripping them of the most experienced and dedicated officers. So I’m asking you, in my official capacity, to suspend these arrests and to release all the officers who haven’t been directly tied to General Chang’s coup attempt.”
Park’s lips thinned. “You pick a strange time to … how do you say?… throw your weight around, General. You and your men will be gone from my country in a few months, and your authority will end with your departure. Why should we pay any heed to the advice of those who are deserting us?”
McLaren had no answer for that. It would have to come from Washington.
Kevin Little knocked once on Rhee’s door and waited.
No one answered, but he could smell cigarette smoke. The South Korean lieutenant hadn’t been at Captain Matuchek’s morning commander’s meeting. He hadn’t been at dinner the night before. And he hadn’t signed out through the gate guardhouse. That left only one place he could be.
Kevin knocked again. This time the door opened.
“Lieutenant Little?” Rhee sounded surprised. His English, usually perfect, was a little slurred. “What can I do for you?”
Kevin pushed the door open wider. “For starters, Lieutenant Rhee, you could let me in out of the hallway here.”
The South Korean nodded slowly and stepped back out of the way. Kevin closed the door behind him and studied both Rhee and his quarters carefully. Though normal looking by most standards, they were a shambles when judged by the impossibly high standards that he knew Rhee set for himself.
Rhee stood swaying slightly in the middle of the small room. His eyes were red-rimmed and bleary, and the top button of his uniform shirt was undone. The sheets on Rhee’s cot were slightly rumpled, as though he’d been lying on top of them and had gotten up without bothering to straighten them out. A lit cigarette smoldered in the ashtray on the desk, perched atop the twisted, crumpled remains of more than a dozen others. An open bottle and a half-full glass of clear liquid sat next to the ashtray.
The room smelled like a hellish combination of rum and furniture-polish remover. Kevin recognized the smell from trips to Korean restaurants and bars that had always been followed by monstrous hangovers. It was Soju, a cheap, grain liquor. He looked from the glass to Rhee. “A bit early in the day, isn’t it?”
Rhee lowered his own gaze. “Perhaps.” He let the word hang there.
“You missed the captain’s meeting this morning.”
Rhee’s head snapped back up. “Did he ask where I — ”
Kevin interrupted him. “I told him you were out running down a missing equipment requisition for me.”
The other man’s eyes fell again and he sank back onto his coat. “You should not have lied for me, Lieutenant. I have failed in my duty. To drink when I should be at my post is … unforgivable.” The South Korean’s voice faded completely.
Kevin stared at Rhee’s slumped shoulders and felt his irritation vanish. He pulled the chair away from the desk and sat facing his liaison officer. “Look, Rhee, you’ve got to snap out of this funk. Just what the hell is wrong?”
“General Chang’s coup attempt …”
Kevin felt cold. They’d all heard the scuttlebutt about the slaughter outside Seoul and the DSC’s ongoing wave of mass arrests. “Jesus Christ, Rhee, you weren’t involved in that, were you?”
“No.” Rhee shook his head slowly. “I was too junior to be involved. I had no hand in it.”
“Well, then, you haven’t got anything to worry about.” Kevin forced a cheerful note into his voice. “This’ll all blow over in a few more days and things’ll get back to normal.” He winced. That sounded fatuous even to him.
Rhee locked his fingers together and stared at his clasped hands. “I do not think so, Lieutenant. My country being destroyed from within before my eyes, and I can do nothing. My friends and relatives are being thrown out of work in the midst of the winter. And I can do nothing for them. Now the Army, our last bulwark against the enemy, is being broken on the wheel.” He raised his bloodshot eyes to Kevin’s face in a mute appeal. “And what can I do to prevent this? Nothing.” His eyes strayed toward the Soju bottle.
Kevin stared at him for a second, framing his reply carefully. He had to find a way to rouse Rhee from his depression. If Matuchek found the South Korean in this state, there’d be hell to pay — both by Rhee and by Kevin. Another thought crossed his mind and chilled him further. If any of the DSC men in the area heard about this reaction to Chang’s coup, Rhee would probably find himself on a short ride to a long prison term, guilty or not guilty. Kevin shook his head. He really didn’t have any choice. He had to get Rhee back to some semblance of normal, and fast.
He spoke slowly, emphasizing each word as he thought of it. “Look at me, Lieutenant.” Rhee’s eyes swung back toward him. “Neither one of us is in a position to do much about the big things that are going wrong over here. I’m not the president, so I can’t undo that stupid trade bill. And you’re not a general, so you can’t call off this DSC witch-hunt. Right?”
Kevin saw the South Korean starting to pay attention to him. Encouraged, he continued, “But that’s not what they’re paying us for. They’re paying us to soldier. And you’re a damned good soldier, Lieutenant Rhee. You’re a hell of a lot better at this game than I am.” He narrowed his own eyes and stared hard at the Korean. “Or at least you are when you’re not drunk.”
Rhee hung his head in shame again.
Kevin softened his voice. “C’mon, Rhee. Everybody screws up once or twice. But you can’t let it grind you down.”
The South Korean slowly lifted his head. He stared back at Kevin for a moment in silence and then answered, “You are right, Lieutenant Little, I should concentrate my energies on the things that I can affect. On the platoon and on my own preparedness.” He shook his head in disgust. “I’ve been indulging in nothing more than weak self-pity. That was foolish and wrong.”
Rhee stood abruptly.
Kevin followed suit.
“If you’ll allow it, I’ll get cleaned up and join you for the rest of the day’s schedule.” Rhee suddenly bowed slightly to him. “I must apologize for my behavior today, Lieutenant. And I must thank you for your kindness.”
Embarrassed now, Kevin awkwardly sketched a return bob of the head. “Ah hell, Rhee. No need for that.”