Jonah treaded the freezing waters, grateful for each breath of clear air. And he watched the surface, waiting, silently begging for Freya to emerge. He treaded water until the last of his strength left him, but she never came.
CHAPTER 27
Jonah stood at the bow of the surfaced Scorpion as they entered Nampo Bay under the morning light of a brilliant winter sun, the mouth of the Taedong River to their stern. He’d exchanged his saturated clothing for a survival suit, the orange neoprene ensemble matched by those of his crew. The fits weren’t perfect, Dalmar’s suit was so tight he could scarcely get the zipper halfway up his bare chest; Sun-Hi’s was so large that the arms hung down off her hands like penguin flippers. Alexis and Hassan held the white top sheet from their bed between them, forming the largest improvised white flag they could muster. Only Vitaly was missing from the deck; he piloted the sub from the command compartment beneath the open conning tower hatch.
“There they are.” Alexis pointed to the seemingly endless Japanese invasion fleet in the distance. With the storm now passed, the flotilla seemed even more massive than Jonah could have imagined.
“Keep that flag up nice and high,” Jonah ordered. “We want to be taken into custody, not shot on sight.”
“I will help hold the flag,” said Dalmar, replacing a grateful Alexis.
Jonah turned to Sun-Hi. “You getting anything on the radio?”
“One message,” she said. “It repeats in Japanese and Korean. It says to not fight, that all sides have common enemy. There is some battle still in the east and many DPRK leaders are missing but most troops are standing down.”
“Good,” Jonah said. “Radio Vitaly and tell him to keep course towards the center of the convoy, dead slow. And if I don’t see any of you after this, it’s been real.”
“So profound,” said Alexis, rolling her eyes.
The crew lapsed into silence as the Scorpion plied the still waters of the bay. Jonah raised a pair of binoculars to his eyes, training the lenses on four beached Japanese amphibious transport ships below still-smoldering Nampo. A veritable sea of North Korean civilians had formed winding lines on the sand before their open bows as Japanese sailors and soldiers worked tirelessly to distribute emergency rations, generators, and warm clothes.
As they slipped between the first of the anchored Japanese ships, soldiers and sailors alike gathered on the decks, entire crews pouring into the cold winter morning as they watched the submarine pass. Alexis lowered her side of the white flag as she raised a neoprene-encased hand to shield her face from the sun. “They’re not stopping us,” she marveled, wonder in her voice.
And then the surrounding men moved, lining up in formation, sharply angling their elbows as they snapped the fingers of their right hands to their temples. It happened slowly at first, one man, two, five, the movement growing exponentially until every man stood at attention.
“They’re saluting,” whispered Jonah.
Sun-Hi placed her floppy arm around Jonah’s waist and rested her head against his shoulder. “It is the War that Jonah Stopped,” she said.
“That it is.” Hassan smiled. “That it is indeed.”
“I should rather call it the War of Many Burned Men,” grunted Dalmar.
“I am so doing my princess wave,” grinned Alexis as she raised her hand. “Whad’ya say, Cap?”
Jonah allowed himself a ghost of a smile as he silently nodded back to the saluting men, acknowledging them. “I say we get the hell out of here before they figure out we accidentally gave the North Koreans a nuclear weapon.”
EPILOGUE
Standing atop the rocky coastal bluff, Jonah enjoyed the warm sunshine and gentle tropical breeze on his skin. He could see across the entire breadth of the beach from his vantage point, past the half-buried colonial-era Philippine township, to the Scorpion as she rocked gently against the length of collapsed concrete dock. The sun had already begun to set, its deep orange reflecting off the endless ocean as it slowly descended through purple clouds. He turned to Hassan. “You ready for this?”
“Despite all we’ve been through, I believe I’m more nervous now than I’ve ever been before,” Hassan whispered. “It’s just a shame we don’t have any music.”
“Be careful what you wish for,” said Jonah. “Sun-Hi has told me she’s quite the talent on an accordion.”
“Are you serious?”
“I’ve heard they’re still pretty popular in North Korea. So, if an accordion should happen to make its way aboard the Scorpion, please let me know immediately.”
“So that you might give it to her?” “Of course not,” Jonah said as he teasingly slapped his friend on the shoulder. “So I can eject it out the trash chute before she finds out. Same rule goes for bagpipes and bongos.”
Alexis emerged from a rough trail they’d chopped into the jungle canopy, tiptoeing barefoot with Dalmar and Vitaly on the crook of each arm. Her long blond hair was simply braided and rested on one tanned, exposed shoulder, her freckles glowing as she smiled. Sun-Hi had expertly tailored a long sweep of immaculate Japanese white parachute silk into a wedding dress, sewing in hundreds of tiny, almost translucent shells into the bodice. Alexis wore a delicate crown of tropical flowers and carried a matching bouquet, clenched hands resting just below her slim waist. She’d worked for two days to clean the engine oil from beneath her fingernails.
Hassan ran a hand through his thick black hair and straightened his linen suit as he shifted from foot to foot, unconsciously touching his breast pocket to verify his notes had survived their passage up the steep slope. And then they locked eyes, the rest of the universe disappearing as they stared at each other. Dalmar and Vitaly held Alexis’ hands above her head; the ethereal silk of her white dress rippling in the tropical breeze, her bare feet gliding across smooth rocks. She handed the bouquet to Dalmar and stepped up to Hassan, taking his hands in hers and squeezing tightly.
“Hello,” Hassan whispered. “You are more beautiful than I can say.”
She blushed, smiling up at him with unusually bashful eyes. “You’re alright yourself.”
“I’m so happy we’re all here,” Jonah began. “I know we’ve all been incredibly busy preparing over the last few days, but—”
“I can’t hear!” Marissa’s tinny voice squawked over the speaker of a satellite phone. “Move me closer!” Sun-Hi crept forward towards the bride and groom, holding the blocky black telephone high above her head.
“You’re picking up the charges, right?” Jonah asked, winking at Alexis. “I’ll move through the ceremony fast, but not two-bucks-a-minute fast.”
“You better not rush a damn thing!” Marissa protested. “I’m warning you, Jonah Blackwell! I want to hear every single word!”
Jonah waited until the laughter subsided before speaking. “We’ve been incredibly busy repairing the Scorpion, and preparing for this moment, but I wanted to point out how happy I am that we’re here together for this ceremony.” He paused for a moment, letting his gaze pass over the bride and groom and to his crew. “We’ve not known each other for very long,” he said, “but in the short time we’ve all been together, we’ve lived more life than most.”