“Damn, Claire, you do good work,” said the booming voice of General Black. Richardson laughed. The two had worked together closely on the project and they were getting to become very good friends.
“Bet your ass. I may even get elected,” she quipped back.
Now it was Black’s turn to laugh. “So I hear,” he said. “I got to tell you, Claire, everyone is impressed as hell up here. You have put them all to shame, lady!”
“Isn’t easy,” she said. “I’m still upset about shooting those looters early on, but it had to be done.”
“That’s right. You made the tough one and it worked. I know I appreciate what you’ve done and I know the President is ready to marry you,” he said.
“Tell him he’s not my type,” she chuckled. “But I appreciate how you both backed me up and got some things down here ASAP when we needed them. It really helped,” she said. Then she turned a little more serious. “Now what has you calling me at 11:30 at night?” she asked looking at her watch.
“Plain and simple. It’s time to quit your cushy job and come back home. I have something going on and I need you here. When can you get back?”
She sat up in the chair. “How soon do you need me? I need to get some word to my people.” She knew this was something serious. Black didn’t make many calls like this.
“Claire, I can’t talk on this phone, but turn things over to your number two and hightail it. The night train should have gotten there. Have them hook up your car and drag you back up here. I’ll send down a replacement.”
“Howard, never mind the replacement. Bostic has his shit together. Let him keep running it. If he starts to lose it, he’ll be the first to call for backup. Is that okay?”
“I’ll cut the orders. Tell him to assume command tomorrow morning. I need you here, Claire. We have work to do,” he said solemnly.
“I should be there tomorrow night then,” she said. Black heard her sigh on the phone. “It was fun while it lasted.”
“Trust me, Claire, you will love what I have in store for you.”
“I’d better,” she quipped. “I’ll see you sometime tomorrow then.”
“Good night, General,” Black said as the line went dead.
Richardson looked down at the handset and then placed it in its cradle. Standing back up, she put her coat back on, opened the rear door and spoke to the sentry. “Get Colonel Bostic and the department heads over here right now, then get some coffee and some snacks ready. We’re going to be here for a few,” she barked.
The sentry saluted and said “Aye, aye sir!” then called for the duty Corporal. In ten minutes the car was abuzz with activity.
It was like a maze. Hufham and Ricks skirted around the mountains, major roads and places where they could hear activity. Late in the third week Hufham eased down a hill toward a wayside gasoline station about 10 miles outside the major city of Chuncheon, far away from the regular roads. It was a nondescript building with an old metal gas pump in the front. The pump looked like it had come from the 1950s with mechanical numbers on the front. After a few instructions, Ricks left the Jeep and made his way around the station while Hufham watched the front and right side. There was a small shack on the far side of the station with no lights showing. Hufham waited in the cover beside the road until he heard a footstep nearby.
Ricks emerged from the grasses beside him and shook his head. “Nothing around the building. There is a family in the small building beyond, I can hear two sets of snoring. No other movement. I could see through a back window to the garage. There’s an old car in there and some tools and supplies, but nothing much else.”
“Okay, the object is to get the Jeep filled and refill our cans. We can’t just drive up and blow the horn,” he chuckled softly. “So the best way is to fill the cans and take a chance we can refill them after topping off the Jeep. Let’s grab a can and do this quietly,” he said as he began easing back toward the spot where the Jeep was hidden.
Ten minutes later the two men eased around the corner of the garage and entered a back door. Getting through the garage was a chore. Cans, tools, and other equipment were scattered everywhere. A couple of times metal could be heard as it dropped to the floor or was kicked. Each time, both men tensed and froze in their steps for a few minutes to make sure they had not been given away. Then they slowly began the process again. Eventually they made it to the front of the store. Behind a small desk there was a fuse box with several switches. Hufham pulled out the flashlight and covered it with his hand. After turning it on, he eased the fingers open just enough to see the switches. They were all marked in Korean. Hufham recognized one set as the pumps. Both were in the “off” position. Praying that he was right, he flipped the switches. He heard some clicks outside near the pumps, but no lights came on. He wasn’t sure what the clicking was, but after only a second it stopped.
They quietly opened the front door and eased to the pump. Hufham looked around at first, then removed the hose and inserted the handle into the top of the first can. “Wrap your arms around this thing to muffle any sound,” he said. Ricks did as he was told and Hufham eased the handle on the side of the machine up.
The pump began to hum as the electric motor came to life. The noise seemed to fill the air although it was barely above a murmur. Ricks could feel the vibrations flow through his arms and body. It was probably a good thing he was holding on — the pump would probably rattle noisily if he didn’t. There was gas in the tanks and it began flowing rapidly into the first five-gallon container. Hufham and Ricks continually scanned the area to make sure they were alone and no one was sneaking up on them.
The first can filled. Hufham removed the handle of the hose and inserted it into the second can. As it started to fill a voice came out of the dark, scaring both nearly out of their shoes. “There are some other cans in the back. You want them too?”
A figure suddenly appeared from the door of the station. “You guys must be hiding from the DPRs,” the figure said. “Well, they are all around here now, so I would stock up and get moving.”
The gas started running over the top of the can. Hufham let go of the handle, stopping the flow. His hand was already on the pistol in his belt. “And who are you?”
They heard a chuckle. “Lee Tai Nu, I own this station. Next time, you might want to look in the little room around the corner from the desk. I have a small bedroom back there,” he said quietly. “The DPRs came through here earlier and passed this place by. There’s a checkpoint they set up about half a mile down that way,” he said pointing down the dirt road. “Let’s get you another can.”
Hufham reinserted the hose handle in the machine and turned the pump off. “How did you know who we were?”
Another chuckle. “The DPRs wouldn’t have been sneaking in. They would just take everything. Come on back.”
Hufham shook his head. He was right. It was pretty obvious. He motioned for Ricks to follow him as they entered the garage and stepped into the room behind the front office. The door was closed and a small light turned on. In front of the two men stood a young man, slightly smaller, but well muscled, his eyes were bright. The young man passed them a blanket. “Hang it over the door,” he said. Ricks took the blanket and did as he was told. There were three nails in the wall that matched holes in the blanket. It effectively blocked the light around the door.