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“Shit! Why’s that?”

“In the event the virologist becomes incapacitated, you’ll need to know the basics of how to eradicate.” He moved on. “The operation will be named: Blue Suit. And before you ask, that apparently is the colour of a bio-protective suit used in hot zones.”

“Hot zones? You mean when things get a bit hectic?” Ryder asked with a mischievous grin.

“No, Frank,” Conway replied with a touch of impatience. “A hot zone is where deadly viruses are kept.”

“Oh, appropriate then.”

Following a little more time discussing technical aspects, Ryder was finally dismissed. Another mission without proper time to plan. It almost drove him towards The Chelsea Ram just around the corner for a stiff drink and a packet of Winfield Mild, but he thought better of it, fired up the Harley and cruised out into Lots Road.

3

Under a clouded night sky, the British ‘Trident’-class submarine surfaced off the eastern coastline of North Korea, twelve miles east of Sinpo. From a forward hatch sprang a group of sailors hauling an inflatable dinghy across the watery deck, followed by Frank Ryder and his team dressed in black peasant clothing with canvas sacks slung over their shoulders. The inflatable was quickly lowered into the swirling waters. The group hurriedly clambered down the rope ladder over the curving hull and into the vessel. Once all were in, the coxswain gunned the silenced 140hp outboard motor into life and drew away from the submarine heading towards the dark coastline to the west.

Thirty minutes later the coxswain cut the outboard 200 yards from the shore and silently glided the craft through the waves to the water’s edge. Ryder and the others quickly scrambled out and ran up the narrow shingle beach, reaching the tree-lined top safely as the coxswain turned and headed back out to sea.

Amongst the dense bush, Ryder checked his GPS, disguised as a wristwatch, confirming they had landed in the correct location. Each of the five-member team carried false identity papers, simple food rations of rice, dried fruit and meats, together with basic personal first-aid kits and lightweight thermal sleeping bags. Each also carried a quart of water in a flexible plastic container, together with a small, fold-up water-gathering plastic bag. Ryder, in addition, carried powerful compact binoculars, a map and compass. None carried communication equipment apart from a small battery-operated ‘homer’ hidden within their clothing to use only on their return to the beach. Each carried a 9mm SIG-Sauer P-226 handgun with silencer, together with extra ammunition concealed in a compartment at the base of the sacks. A KayBar combat knife was strapped to each man’s calf.

A sense of deep foreboding and isolation swept through Ryder as he looked out towards the darkened land. They had no back-up and no one would be around to help if captured. The risk of failure was extremely high, but this was it – there could be no turning back now. He checked the map; the first leg of the journey would present the most risk as they would be skirting moderately populated areas. He glanced at his watch: 2300 hours local time; they must be well inland before dawn. Signalling to the others, he led the group silently into the darkness heading due west. Operation Blue Suit was now well and truly underway.

* * *

From a hideaway amongst the scrub and rocks, Ryder focused binoculars on the tarsealed highway. He swept them over nearby railway tracks on the plain. He estimated that they would have to cross almost midway between Hongwon, six miles to the south, and Sinpo, nine miles to the north. From the map, Ryder gathered this to be the main eastern coastal highway, running some 600 miles from the border with South Korea, up to the Russian and Chinese borders at the town of Unngi in the north. They had been on the move for more than two hours since leaving the North Korean beach, covering ground fast through bush without encountering a single soul and giving wide berth to what Ryder guessed were isolated farmsteads. He estimated they were now approximately ten klicks inland. They had to be well into the hills prior to daylight before resting. He was grateful the virologist had managed to keep up the steady pace without complaint and he hoped she could maintain it until then.

The cloud cover had thinned considerably, allowing a pale moon to bathe the landscape. In the short time spent observing the road and tracks, five heavy trucks, together with two locomotives pulling a long line of freight cars, had rumbled past. He worried they would have little cover over the open ground between themselves and the hilly, bush-screened terrain beyond.

The moon disappeared, throwing the landscape into relative darkness. Minutes passed and soon the road was clear; no lights could be seen either way. Ryder gave the order to move out and all five broke cover and ran in a line towards the road. When they arrived at the tarseal, the sudden growl of a heavy diesel engine was heard on the wind. A truck with no headlights swung around the bluff less than one hundred yards away approaching from the left. With nowhere to hide, Ryder did not hesitate and dashed out over the wide highway followed closely by the others.

Almost at the other side, Grace, last of the group, suddenly tripped and fell. The truck headlamps flashed on and she was caught fully in the glare. The vehicle screeched to a halt. Two men sprang from the cab and rushed forward.

Ryder raced to Grace’s aid.

The two men stopped abruptly on seeing him and the others close behind.

Then, the roar of an oncoming locomotive, its powerful headlamp cutting the darkness, momentarily diverted attention.

No time to lose.

Without hesitating, Ryder and the nearest commando leapt forward, knives in hand, grabbed the startled men and slid blades expertly through the ribs straight into their hearts, killing both instantly.

The bodies were hurriedly thrown into the back of the truck. Ryder jumped into the cab, slammed the vehicle into gear and drove the vehicle off the road and into the scrub. The others rapidly followed, dragging a shaken Grace, reaching cover just before the smoke-belching engine thundered past.

Grace looked startled and pale.

“You okay, Dr Seymour?” Ryder asked.

“Please, please, call me Grace,” she stuttered. “I’ll be okay; just a little shaken.”

He guessed she was putting on a brave face; perhaps seeing death close-up and personal for the first time. “It’ll get easier,” he said gently, yearning for a cigarette.

She nodded, head held in hand. He wanted to tell her most sane people reacted like that the first time; he wanted to tell her he found it unpleasant to kill another human being – it was always ugly and mostly messy. Over time he’d insulated himself against empathy and sympathy towards the victims and their circumstances. The price paid: a hardening of the heart and at times a sense of remoteness from reality.

The two bodies were quickly buried and the truck dumped in a depression away from the scene. Ryder gave the order to move out, glancing at Grace. Seeing that she was still shaken, he felt fleetingly sorry for her and hoped like hell this incident was not an omen for the future.

* * *

Light rain fell as the group of five trudged relentlessly with sacks slung over their backs through the lower foothills that led away from the coastline and up towards the highlands of central North Korea. Since the episode at the railway line, they had travelled almost non-stop through the night and for most of the next day, carefully skirting small villages and keeping to the wooded terrain. They negotiated narrow ridges and sparsely populated valleys, avoiding where possible dirt roads and tracks traversing the landscape. Most of all they kept well away from the townships, even though it meant diverting from the northwesterly direction they were obliged to follow. They were now exhausted and desperately in need of a rest. As twilight fell, the group made camp in a small, deserted hut that was cut into a wooded hillside. The hut was old and had not been used for some time, but at least it was dry. Ryder decided it was safe enough to stop in. With no windows and a small hearth in one corner it was ideal to get out of the drizzle, light a fire and rest up until morning.