“There,” I said, pointing.
Ernie shielded his eyes with his hand like a Sioux warrior searching for the 7th Cavalry. “A Quonset hut,” he said, “a few more buildings, and a guard tower.”
“If it’s an anti-aircraft camp,” I said, “a lot of the construction will be below ground as protection from incoming rounds.”
Ernie pointed to the right. “There’s the access road.”
A crumbling two-lane dirt path wound up the hill like a snake climbing toward his lair.
“They’ll see us coming,” I said.
“If we drive.”
“You’ve got a better idea?”
“I don’t know if it’s better, but it’s different.”
“Hike up there?” I asked.
“Exactly.”
“Hard enough for us,” I said. “I doubt Nam could make it.” Mr. Nam was a thin, elegant-looking guy, but he didn’t appear too strong physically.
Ernie turned to me. “Who said anything about Nam?”
“They want to make an exchange. Kim for Nam.”
“I don’t particularly give a shit what they want.”
“So what are you saying?” I asked.
“I say we drive around to the other side of these hills, hike up to the compound, and take her.”
That wouldn’t be easy, but I liked the sound of it. I was tired of the arrogance of Captain Blood and the 501st. Who the hell did they think they were, taking money from freaking North Korean spies, then harassing and kidnapping an innocent woman?
“We should’ve brought a rifle,” I said.
Ernie glanced toward the bridge. “Maybe those guys will loan us one.”
The drive around to the other side of the ridge was the hard part. There were no roads. Where there were flatlands, they were mostly filled with rice paddies, and even though they’d already been harvested and were fallow now, the winter had yet to hit in full force, so they weren’t frozen and it was impossible to drive across them. The wheels would wallow in axle-deep mud. So we had to keep searching until we found a turnip patch. The farmer, mad as hell because his plants hadn’t yet matured, cursed us and waved his hoe in our direction as Ernie sped across what amounted to a couple of acres of budding vegetables. Finally we reached a solid path, and another farmer riding a wooden cart pulled by an ox nearly had a heart attack when he saw us. His first thought was probably that the Korean War had started again. When Ernie honked, the guy was so panicked that he pulled his cart off the entire path to let us pass. By way of amends, we smiled and waved as we passed, but I figured it would take him and his ox a lot of effort to pull that cart out of the ditch. Using dead reckoning, we finally figured we were on the opposite side of the compound. We parked the jeep beneath a pear tree and climbed out.
“It’s up there,” I said.
“I can’t see anything.”
“It’s there, though.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“Come on, we only have about an hour of daylight left.”
Ernie grabbed the M-16 rifle and the two clips of ammunition that the ROK Army Lieutenant at Liberty Bridge had so graciously loaned us. Well, not so graciously. He’d said no, absolutely. After all, the first thing an infantry soldier learns is that his weapon is like his life: never to be given away under any circumstances. But this circumstance was that Ernie had pulled his .45 on him. When the Lieutenant still hesitated, Ernie fired a round that zinged past the Lieutenant’s head and landed in the cold waters of the rushing river. Using my best Korean, I apologized as I quickly grabbed the rifle and ammo.
If we’d been anybody else, the guards on the bridge probably would’ve opened fire and killed Ernie and me. But we were Americans, and everyone in the ROK military knew that you left Americans alone, unless you wanted to bring the wrath of the Pak Chung-hee government upon yourself. It was a hell of a chance we’d taken, but it worked.
And it was guaranteed that as soon as we left, the Lieutenant fired up the radio and reported it.
“So the KNPs are on the way, and the ROK Army is pissed,” Ernie said.
“Yeah,” I replied. “All we have to do is make sure Miss Kim is safe before anybody arrives.”
“With guns blazing,” he said.
We started climbing.
– 34-
In the dark, the compound appeared deserted. No lights shone, which confirmed to me that they were underground. We low-crawled up to the chain-link fence that bordered the compound, which was rusted and deformed in places. We made our way along it until Ernie found a loose section that he propped up about six inches with a forked tree branch. On my back, as they’d taught us in Basic Training, I wriggled beneath the fence until I was inside. Then I knelt and pulled the fence higher for Ernie to slide through.
We crouched and studied the compound. Ernie pointed, and we silently approached the big Quonset hut.
We knew there’d be an underground storage area for the anti-aircraft ammunition, as well as an underground command bunker. It made sense that Captain Blood would use the bunker for our “deal.” It was safe, quiet, and secure, and no one from the outside could see those lights.
The sky was spangled brightly with stars. It’s like that near the Korean Demilitarized Zone. There are few internal combustion engines operating in the area, no factories, so the air is pure. Wildlife thrives up here. Certain species of crane and mountain hare are extinct in South Korea as far as scientists can ascertain, except along the DMZ. There are even rumors that a few Siberian tigers roam the mountains in these parts, but that’s probably just GI myth.
We found the ammo storage facility. A huge, flat ziggurat-like structure. We gazed down the stone steps. At the bottom of a filthy pit, the iron doors were closed, but I could hear rats squeaking in the shadows around it. This was no place for humans, especially not highbrow ones like Blood. We continued our search.
About twenty yards away, we discovered the entrance to the underground command and control center. It could have been my imagination, but I thought I saw a sliver of light seep from beneath the thick, metal-reinforced door. A shuffling noise from within confirmed my suspicions.
“How do we get in?” Ernie whispered.
I thought about it. “We could wait until somebody comes out,” I said.
“That’ll be too late.”
He was right. We had to find a way in, preferably one that would take them by surprise. How to break in unnoticed to a heavily fortified military command center, I had no idea.
Then it dawned on me that routine operations would be conducted above ground. Only if the base were under attack would everyone in the headquarters make a mad dash for the underground bunker.
I pointed and said, “Let’s search over there.”
There was a square, tin-roofed building not twenty yards from the cement steps that led down to the command center. Ernie crawled to the door, reached up to twist the knob, and pushed it open. Nothing. Dark inside. We crouched through but didn’t turn on the lights. Instead, we opened the tin shutters and let moonlight filter in. There was a coffee maker on a table against the wall. I felt it.
“Warm,” I told Ernie.
We searched the entire building. Empty except for evidence, like crumpled C-ration wrappers in the trash bin, that someone had been here recently.
“They were here,” Ernie said, “and moved to the command center.”
“Afraid we’re going to dump a mortar round on them?”
“I guess so.”
“But they must have a lookout,” I said. “Someone to warn them when we’re approaching with Nam.”
Still crouched down, Ernie peered out the window. “On that side of the compound,” he said.