Tae nodded crisply. “So the traitors are in motion.” He spun back to Yang. “Put your headquarters on full alert! Nobody leaves or enters until we have dealt with Seon and the other conspirators in this division. Understand?”
Yang nodded, sweating harder now.
Tae looked carefully at his aide. “Captain Ryeon, take your troops to the Third Battalion immediately. You know what to do?”
“Yes, sir,” Ryeon said calmly, as though receiving orders to execute a division commander and his closest aides was a routine duty.
“And take Major Paeng and Captain Han with you,” Tae continued, with a slight edge in his voice. “You can brief them on recent events on the road. Clear?”
Again, his aide nodded. Somewhere between the helipad and the Third Battalion’s cantonment, the two Kim loyalist agents would each receive the reward their covert services to the regime had earned — a pistol shot to the back of the skull.
Ryeon moved away, already signaling the Special Forces soldiers toward a pair of trucks parked beyond the pad.
Satisfied, Tae turned his attention back to Yang. “Until we can reestablish communications with the capital, I am taking command of the Thirty-Third.”
Yang looked relieved. He must have been dreading the prospect of issuing orders, rather than following them.
“I want this division on the road as soon as possible,” Tae said firmly.
“Comrade General?”
“We are moving north, Yang,” Tae explained patiently. “If this is the coup we feared, it is vital that we help secure the capital and its approaches against any further action by traitors or those they have misled.”
He took a thin sheaf of papers out of his uniform jacket. “These are orders from Vice Marshal Koh, prepared for just such a contingency. Our mission will be to guard the southern edge of Pyongyang and to take control of certain key points inside the city. We will coordinate with the Third Corps as the situation requires.”
“Yes, sir!”
“And shut down all communications, Yang, unless I give specific permission,” Tae said. “No radio or telephones, and search the entire division for contraband cell phones. We can’t risk traitors or sympathizers sending information or receiving instructions. Now, I suggest you and your staff get moving!”
Tae stood on the tarmac, watching Yang bustle away toward the waiting officers.
The plan formulated by Koh and the other plotters called for units loyal to the General Staff — and others taken over by deceit and force, like this division — to encircle Pyongyang. Once that was accomplished, they would use this show of strength to negotiate a stand-down of the Pyongyang Defense Command. With the capital firmly in their grip, the rest of North Korea would follow. As long as III Corps comes over, this will work, Tae thought coolly, weighing the odds. Otherwise it will be a bloody mess…
The sound of gunfire from up ahead intensified, breaking Tae’s momentary contemplation. He looked up from the reports he’d been pretending to read and listened closely. That wasn’t just sporadic small-arms fire now. He could hear the chatter of machine guns, the sharp crack of rocket-propelled grenades going off, and even what sounded like mortar fire.
That was bad.
It meant his troops were running into resistance from organized units from the Pyongyang Defense Command, not just a few scattered and stubborn checkpoint guards.
Tae swore under his breath. Where the hell was Vice Marshal Koh? And why hadn’t he heard anything from the III Corps over his secure radio channels? Motorized rifle and tank units from that corps were supposed to be moving into the city from the southeast, off on his right flank.
Whummp. Whummp. Whummp.
Tae stiffened.
That was artillery. Heavy guns, at least 122mm, were in action somewhere to the east.
“Sir!” Yang hurried over. The deputy division commander looked pale. “The 161st Regiment reports that it is under artillery fire.”
This is going from bad to worse, Tae thought coldly. He had deployed the 161st out along the Pyongyang-Wonsan Highway. It was there to guard his right flank against any loyalist troops pushing west to take him by surprise. If they were being shelled, that meant that at least some units belonging to III Corps hadn’t joined the coup as expected.
Ryeon joined them. He had been monitoring higher-level radio transmissions. Despite everything, the younger officer still seemed calm, almost unnaturally so.
“Yes, Captain?” Tae asked, forcing himself to match his aide’s wooden expression.
“Terrible news, sir,” Ryeon replied. “The Supreme Leader is dead.”
Tae stood motionless for a moment. They had done it. Even though this was what they had hoped for, the reality was almost overwhelming. That callow young fool, Kim Jong-un, and his vicious followers were dead — wiped off the board with one violent move.
But Ryeon was not finished. “Ohk Yeong-sik has announced that he is taking command.”
That was bad news indeed. As chairman of the Supreme People’s Assembly, Okh was one of Kim’s most loyal supporters. And he was a logical candidate to fill Kim’s shoes, at least as an interim leader. But Okh was not the General Staff’s man.
Yang stared at Tae and his aide. “The Supreme Leader is dead? This is confirmed?”
Ryeon nodded.
“Then what shall we do?” the deputy division commander asked brokenly. To Tae’s astonishment, tears were running down the other man’s cheeks. Still reeling from the execution of his former commander, and then the outbreak of serious fighting, it was clear that the death of Kim Jong-un, by declaration and law the source of everything good in North Korea, had shaken Yang to his core.
“Do?” Tae snapped. He stepped closer to Yang. “We fight, Comrade Major General!”
He turned away, facing the other officers of the divisional staff. “Ohk Yeong-sik was on Vice Marshal Koh’s list of conspirators. He and those who support him are enemies of the state. Is that clear?”
Slowly, they nodded. Blood had already been spilled. And whether or not they believed that Tae was telling them the truth, it was too late to go back. Besides, they were all too aware that their new commander’s special forces bodyguards were stationed at key points around the headquarters.
Tae looked back at Yang, who was still standing there glassy-eyed and blank-faced. “Snap out of it!” he growled. “Pyongyang is in the hands of those who murdered the Supreme Leader! It is our duty to reclaim the capital and exterminate the traitors!”
He raised his voice. “Put artillery fire on every enemy position blocking our advance to the bridge. Hammer those bastards for five minutes. I want the 162nd Regiment to attack as soon as the barrage lifts! This is a general assault. I do not want anything held back. Not a man. Not a gun. Not a shell!”
Galvanized by his stream of orders, the 33rd Division’s staff swung into action.
From here on, this was going to be a straight fight, Tae realized, and a hard one. True, they were disorganized. But so was the enemy. There was no turning back. So be it, he decided grimly. When opponents are evenly matched, it is the strength of their minds that guarantees victory. Then he smiled thinly. That was a quote from the late and unlamented Kim Jong-un’s grandfather, Kim Il-sung.
Chris Sawyer loved hunting for scattered bits of information and fitting them into a recognizable pattern. The intellectual challenge had drawn him to intelligence work. He was providing real answers to people who made very important decisions.