She laughed, but said, “Later, I want to hear all about what you told the army. I’m sure it helped, because the day after you left they destroyed the holdouts’ nuclear weapons in a missile complex, and now they’re hunting down the last of the stragglers. But you must know all about that. It’s been all over the news, of course.”
“I haven’t seen a television in days,” he answered.
“Then you should,” she said enthusiastically. “They’re showing pictures of the ruined complex. And there was an air battle, too. They’ve got video of a MiG-29 fighter being shot down.”
She looked at the clock. It was almost time for them to go for dinner. She obviously wasn’t going to get any more work done. “Come on. I’ll buy you a cup of coffee and you can catch up on what’s been happening.” She headed for the coffeepot.
After a pause, Cho got up and followed her. She poured two cups of coffee and handed one to Cho, who turned and walked slowly toward the tent next to theirs. “You really are tired. I guess I’ll have to take care of you,” she remarked brightly, taking him by the arm.
The rec tent was as large as the headquarters tent; it held a ping-pong table at one end and a large-screen television at the other. The chairs in between the two were all turned to face the TV. Two-thirds were filled with people, all in a festive mood, laughing and sometimes clapping at the news.
Several members of her staff saw them come in and recognized Cho, welcoming him back. “Congratulations! Good work!” Others teased Kary, asking her what it was like having a hero for a boyfriend. And they were glad to see Cho hadn’t been badly wounded.
Their words made no sense to her. “I don’t understand,” Kary said. “We just came in to watch the news about the battle.”
“Exactly!” someone answered. They made room for her and Cho in the front row. Another person said, “They have been running the footage almost continuously.”
Completely confused now, Kary could only ask, “What footage?” She looked to Cho, who managed to look both confused and apprehensive.
“You’ll see. Just sit and watch for a few minutes.”
That had been her intention anyway, so she and Cho sat together watching one of the Korean news channels. She held his hand tightly, giving it an occasional squeeze.
There was nonstop coverage of the war. The first piece they saw had aerial views of the missile complex, now a blackened and smoking ruin. Her blood ran cold at the thought of how close the missiles had come to actually being used.
The next segment featured a hidden cache of currency and gold that had been found during the search of a North Korean diplomat’s house in Switzerland. It was worth tens of millions, and was one of many such hoards being discovered around the world. So much greed, she thought. The diplomat was in custody until he could be repatriated to Korea, where he would probably face money-laundering charges, among other things.
“It’s the top of the hour,” someone announced. “They’ll run it now.” The staffer was smiling broadly, which only added to Kary’s confusion.
The image shifted to show a clearing, with a wooded mountainside in the background. “This is video that just reached us of the special forces soldiers that attacked the Kim holdouts’ fortress and destroyed the missiles inside.”
The camera centered on an older officer in battle-stained fatigues. His helmet was off, and he was wearing a black beret, a sure sign the battle was over, and he was taking a long drink from his canteen.
Helicopters were taking off and landing behind him. “Colonel Rhee Han-gil, shown here, the commander of the Ghosts Special Forces Brigade, personally led over a hundred and fifty of his elite troops through heavy fire, at times engaging in hand-to-hand combat, to destroy the missile complex.”
The camera panned right to show groups of soldiers, obviously very tired, sprawled on the ground. Medics were working on some who were wounded. “The army won’t release any casualty figures until all the next of kin are notified, but described their losses as ‘lower than expected.’”
Rhee walked into the frame from one side, and the camera zoomed in to follow him as he stopped to speak to different soldiers, then knelt next to a wounded trooper sprawled on the grass. His helmet and assault rifle lay next to him. The camera zoomed in a little more, centering first on a bloody but bandaged leg, then on their faces as they spoke.
Kary realized the wounded soldier was Cho. Then she immediately dismissed the idea. It must be someone who just looks a lot like him. She looked at the man sitting next to her, then back to the screen, searching for some difference. Her confusion grew when she couldn’t find one. Was this really Cho in the video?
Astonished, she watched the two figures on the screen. It was clear from their manner that the colonel was praising the soldier, and Rhee patted him on the shoulder, then grinned and saluted the man — Cho — before straightening and moving on.
“As a matter of policy, the authorities do not release the names of soldiers in special forces units. Colonel Rhee, as the leader of the attack, is an exception. Questioned about the wounded soldier Colonel Rhee was speaking with, an army spokesman identified him as someone who was critical to the success of the attack.”
The report ended, and thunderous applause filled the tent, punctuated with cheers. Cho was bright red with embarrassment. If he wanted to keep a low profile, this was an epic failure. Confusion and surprise whirled inside Kary; then the pieces began to fall into place.
She looked Cho straight in the eye, a deep scowl on her face. “Pull up your pants leg,” she ordered in a no-nonsense tone.
Cho nodded and pulled up the cuff of his fatigue pants. She saw nothing but leg.
“Nice try,” she said. “The other one, please.” There was a sharper edge to her order.
This time, he got the trouser up no more than a few inches before she saw the white of a bandage. Her medical training kicked in. The wound had obviously been treated already. “How bad is it? Was there any infection? And why are you walking on it?”
Cho winced as he rolled the pant leg down. “It’s not too bad. It only went through the soft part of my calf, and they’ve pumped me full of antibiotics. And they gave me a crutch, but I don’t—”
“Where is it?”
He pointed to a spot on his calf.
“Not the wound, the crutch!”
“Oh, that. I left it outside your tent. I wanted to see how well I could get by—”
“You didn’t want me to see you were hurt! Later on, you can tell me which of the several bad reasons you used to justify that decision.”
She turned to one of her staffers sitting next to her. She asked sweetly, “Helen, would you please get the crutch for us?” Helen, like everyone else nearby, was following the conversation closely, the news channel ignored. She nodded and dashed from the tent.
Kary found it was possible to care deeply for someone, to believe that someone was a wonderful person, and still want to throttle him.
She was aware of the many people around her, but didn’t feel embarrassed or self-conscious. If Cho was uncomfortable with his less-than-low profile, that was too bad.
She watched him closely. “Tell me the truth. Were you in the battle?”
Cho sighed. “Yes, I was in the battle.”
“You lied to me about the van!” she accused.
“No, no!” he insisted. “I was in the van. The battle was later.”
Her understanding grew. “So you just skipped the part about the battle. Did they make you go, or did you volunteer?”
After a short pause, he answered, “I volunteered. It turned out—”
“And when were you going to tell me about this?”
“I was looking for the right time! I didn’t want to upset you.”