I heard them first—the barking. Two dogs. Then I saw the search party. Four troops, a dog handler, and two German Shepherds. They were right on our trail, coming out of the foothills into the two-creek valley where Min-Ji had screwed up her ankle.
A troop vehicle rolled up to them as they reached the road. It stopped. One of the patrolmen spoke to the soldier at the passenger window, and then the truck rolled off to the south.
Hounds to the hunters, I realized. A simple plan. The hounds were in front of me; the hunters were in that vehicle.
The man at the back of the group had a backpack with an antenna shooting out of it.
Radio operator.
How frequently was he calling in their position reports? I wondered.
I watched him closely.
He radioed in when they reached the first creek. They crossed it slowly.
At the second creek, they stopped. The dogs patrolled around the ledge, but eventually, they crossed. The German shepherds came together, sniffing at the place where I had wrapped Min-Ji's ankle. The radioman called it in.
They continued for 600 meters, slowly closing on me.
Finally, they came to the first hill out of the valley. I was 20 meters from them, hidden well, but if those dogs had my scent, too, there would be a firefight very, very soon.
The radio operator had not called in anything since the second creek.
This was good.
The dogs moved in my direction for a few meters before turning and following the route I'd carried Min-Ji.
The soldiers passed me in a diamond formation behind the dog handler. The leader was in front. To his right-rear was a fella with his sleeves rolled up. To the leader's left-rear was a really short guy. The radioman still brought up the rear. I swept in behind them, still off-trail.
It had been twenty minutes since the radioman's last update.
The handler turned, saying something to the team leader. The team leader turned to the radioman and issued some orders. They continued.
And the radioman unhooked the handset from his backpack and called Search Control or the vehicle or both.
That was what I needed to see.
I stepped onto the trail behind the team, weapon at the ready, and closed with them. I had rehearsed this type of situation scores of times. Each of my feet planted into the earth like how someone might lay out a blanket—a reverse peel—for utter silence.
But I stepped quickly, too.
In five seconds, I was three meters behind the radioman. No one looked back. The noses of the dogs were buried in the trail.
The radioman hung up his headset, and I put a bullet in his brain. He collapsed.
The man to his right—sleeve guy—turned first, glancing at the radioman and alerting the team leader.
The team leader never had a chance to turn around. Back of the head, one shot.
Now it was instinct. I had to take the risk that the dog handler was unarmed. He had his dogs for weapons, I figured. So, who would be the first to pull his weapon? Sleeves or shorty?
Sleeves still hadn't drawn his rifle; he glared at me in astonishment.
Shorty was swinging his rifle around, yelling. I cut it off with one shot to the face.
Sleeves didn't move. I stepped toward him. He flinched. One shot to the forehead and down.
The dog handler was hissing at the German shepherds, setting them after me.
I shot him twice in the chest.
One dog came after me, low and snarling; the other seemed unsure.
I shot snarler in the chest.
The other dog saw its companion go down and backed away from me. I shot him in the chest, too.
The whole group had to go down. No choice.
"Sorry dogs," I whispered.
I checked each body. The dog handler had a pair of white women's panties in his coat pocket.
Min-Ji's scent marker, I concluded.
The short guy's pack contained the dirt-encrusted garments that Min-Ji had buried after we left the intersection—the black shirt and pants and the blackened bamboo hat, now a crumpled disaster.
One by one, I hauled each corpse back to the creek, weighed them down with the stones I had gathered earlier, and sunk them. The dogs, too. It took about twenty minutes.
I raced back up the hill and cleared the area of my shell casings, mixed the blood into the soil, and swept the area clear of tracks.
It was 1317 when I began my trip back to Min-Ji.
One way to make a scent vanish, I said to myself, was to get rid of the dogs.
The bonus to this side mission was that I had now destroyed their scent items by sinking them in the creek. A new set of trailing dogs would need a new garment—probably not too difficult to find, but it would give us more time.
Slowly working my way back to Min-Ji, I considered what the enemy would do next.
At first, it would be assumed the radio went bad. The hunters' vehicle would drive back and forth, looking. At some point, a patrol would be sent out to find the team and the dogs. When they were declared missing, I imagined a new scent dog team would be summoned and deployed.
It gave us time, but even so, I could see the search commander flooding the area with troops looking for any sign of the dog team or us. But, I wasn't worried about foot patrols or vehicular patrols finding our shelter; I was worried about more dogs.
I made it to the tunnel at 1428.
Min-Ji saw me and the fear on her face melted into relief. She whispered my name.
Clothes dissipated body heat; I took mine off and climbed back into the tunnel under the solar blanket with her.
She turned around, curling her back against my front. I held her and not long after, fell asleep.
***
Having been a part of other covert operations for years, my body was trained to listen, even when I slept, and to rouse the instant I heard something alarming.
That afternoon, I never did, though my mind registered the distance drone of automobiles on streets and occasionally the closer muffled roar of a military vehicle over gravel roads.
I awakened when I heard MIn-Ji moan. She must've been sleeping, too.
I checked my watch—1744. Nightfall approached. Sunset would occur at 1857 tonight.
Then, I noticed it. I had a fearsome erection. Its length squashed into the tender flesh of Min-Ji's butt.
I drew my hips back to create space, and she rolled towards me, eyes open. She whispered something in Korean that included my name.
She was young and beautiful. I wanted to kiss her.
And I wanted to apologize for my erection, but I felt it best to remain aloof. Shit happened. I got a sleep boner. So what?
I pointed to the seven on my watch, and then I signaled that we would go together.
She backed away from me, brought up her knee in what little space we had, and pointed to her ankle.
I nodded and showed her that I would carry her again.
She gave a relaxed sigh, nodded, and when she lowered her leg, it brushed smoothly against the tip of my cock.
She flinched and her eyes darted to mine.
Against my will, I ignored it and rolled away from her.
She put an arm around my chest and drew her front against my back.
Fuck me, I thought. Those fucking tits.
The erection remained.
At 1828, the damned thing subsided when a foot patrol passed nearby. They had been dropped off by a troop carrier on the road to our east. I had heard the vehicle roll off to the north after the drop.
Hiking up the hill toward us, the soldiers did what I expected—they avoided the steep slope and went around us.
Nothing like a steep hill, I thought with a grin, to ward off foot soldiers. Always put your hiding place in a spot common soldiers wanted to avoid.
The closest they passed was 20 meters, I guessed, and they were headed west. Good news.
Surveying my map in the last light of the day, I saw a tank ditch or trench 100 meters south of us that ran just north of east through the next valley. Its exit put us in the next set of foothills.
The risk was that it might be patrolled. The benefit was that it would be a high-speed axis where I could carry Min-Ji unseen.
It was worth the risk.
The key here was separation. Easting would give me that. Plus, the border turned sharply northeast in that direction. Every step would take me further from the main body of bad guys and closer to the DMZ.
I began planning my course beyond the trench.
A helicopter interrupted my thinking. It passed south of us, probably hugging the DMZ.
Gone, I checked the time: 1856. Outside, dusk had set in. Time to roll.
Min-Ji and I dressed together outside the tunnel. I could not stop myself from peeking at her breasts. They were fucking beautiful, like the ends of fat artillery shells jutting from her torso.
To control my urges and focus on important matters, I checked and rewrapped Min-Ji's ankle. The thing was like a bluish-pink softball with toes poking out the front and a heel out the back.
I glanced at her. She nodded determinedly.
Once we were packed out, I covered up the tunnel, took Min-Ji on my back, and began heading south over the fingers and through the draws that led to that tank ditch.
It was probably a remnant from 1953, I decided. The DMZ was located along the exact line of the Korean War front on some date back in that year.
Of course there would be trenches and tank ditches, I told myself. Probably some old foxholes, too.
A few minutes later, I saw it through the NVGs—the trench. We began heading east, moving down the hill and into the man-made ditch. A bridge 80 meters away blocked us.
When we arrived at the crossing, I found a four-foot culvert passing underneath it. I climbed inside it with Min-Ji on my back and crawled through. On the other side, I switched my NVGs to infrared to help me see any heat sources.
None.
We moved quickly through the ditch. At one point a vehicle passed over the bridge behind us, and I had to wait it out. 25 minutes later, we encountered another culvert. This one was at least 30 meters long, and through my NVGs, I could see standing water inside.
The last thing I wanted to do on a 39-degree evening was to get wet. I needed to make distance. Getting wet would put an end to our travels.
I crept to the lip of the trench and surveyed the area. Fields. The road. No heat signatures. No sounds other than distant motor vehicles. I carried her over the bridge at a run, and we continued.
300 meters further along the ditch, I saw two people through my infrared. They were at the back of a farmhouse, smoking cigarettes. We waited for them to finish and continued.
The ditch spanned about 1200 meters in total, but we made good time. It was 1957 when we emerged into the foothills.
Here, we were as close as I'd ever been to the South Korean border, about 2200 meters, by my map estimate. How incredible the prospect seemed—to be able to turn south and get out of country in four or five hours.
But it could not be. That area would be supremely dangerous right now.
More easting.
I sighed.
Min-Ji adjusted her grip on my body.
I moved out.
We stopped and drank water from an irrigation ditch. I pumped it through my filter into our canteens. We ate energy bars. I rechecked my route. I rested.
Min-Ji got my attention and mimicked sleep.
I shook my head and signaled I wanted to pick her up again.
"Ski-pa no," she argued.
"No."
She relented. I took her up, and we continued up and down the hills, up and down.
At 0416, I had made it to our goal. We were on the western side of a hill, looking down at a paved road running north and south. The border lay just under 1500 meters due south of us.
I began cutting a new tunnel into the side of a short cliff when it started raining.
Instantly I stripped down. Min-Ji did the same. I stuffed our clothes into my pack with the rest of my gear and put it under the low branches of a pine to keep it as dry as possible.
Min-Ji watched from under the same tree as I hacked into the soil and clay, chipping away hunks. It rained harder. Soon, we were both sopping. She curled herself into a shivering ball.
I went to her, wrapping my naked body around hers and rubbing. After a few minutes, I went back to work. Back and forth.
Once, when I set down the knife and went to her, Min-Ji reached for me. I fell on top of her, and she wrapped her legs around me. My cock and balls rested between her legs, and I felt the soft pubic hairs of her vagina. Chest to chest, I rubbed her body; she rubbed my back, and we rocked together like lovers on the cold wet earth.
I didn't want to leave her, but I did.
I thought about the dangers ahead as I continued carving out our new home.
No doubt a new scent marker for Min-Ji had been procured along with a new team of dogs. They would have started somewhere near the last check-in point—near where the killing took place.
The rain on our bodies would not help wash away our scent here at this new shelter. In fact, it probably would accentuate it, but those dogs would have to get close to smell it.
The rain on our back-trail, however, might help us a great deal. Scent generally comes from flakes of skin. The rain would tend to wash it away—not perfectly so, but it would definitely delay them, for there would be false trails where little rivulets of rainwater carried our scent downhill when we actually went up.
The progress east I had made through the night would tax not only the men but the dogs, as well. Had I bought us a full day's rest in this tunnel? I didn't know. Maybe.
Absolutely frozen and almost two hours later, it was done, smoothed out, carpeted with our clothes, and camouflaged.
We climbed in. When our bodies met under the solar blanket, Min-Ji sighed beautifully. She rolled her back toward me and we nestled together, my arm over her tummy, her arm over my arm. My nose nuzzled into her hair until I found her neck. She hummed sweetly.
I had carried her over seven kilometers on my back that night up and down hills. We slept.
***
I woke with another formidable erection. The skin on skin contact with Min-Ji's ass did not help. The connection between our bodies was warm and soft. It was like her skin sent thrumming pulses of warm energy into my cock and, from there, throughout my body.
I didn't move. It felt too good.
But, I needed to know the time. I slid my arm free from her and glanced at my watch.
0932.
Min-Ji stirred.
I drew my hips back from her.
She hesitated for a moment, and then she shifted her body, snuggling back against me. Her ass rubbed my cock as she settled.
I gasped in silence at the strength of the sensation, feeling my erection contract against her.
Min-Ji sighed.
I wanted to touch her, to send her a signal that I wanted her.
Not the time or the place, I told myself. I rolled onto my back and threw my arms behind my head.
Drops of rain tapped the sodden ground outside the tunnel—a slow, steady drizzle. I smelled the air. It was clean, cool, and abundant with the freshness of spring.
What next? I thought. What will the enemy do next? What would I do if I were them?
Min-Ji rolled toward me.
I didn't look.
Maybe they would form a picket line, I imagined, but from where? Maybe from the....
Min-Ji's hand cupped my cheek and drew my face toward hers. She whispered to me in Korean. Her voice sounded high and sweet, full of innocence and trepidation.
I glanced at her breasts. They seemed to leap from her body towards me. So full and soft. Her surging nipples bore the color of dark, creamed tea. The two thick, jutting masses on Min-Ji's demure frame made her seem vulnerable. They were like two enormous jewels that could not possibly be protected by the venue upon which they were displayed—there for the taking, but so beautiful that one dared not even try.
She continued to speak to me, and her voice grew in sweet, heart-wrenching dread. Her eyes turned pink. The skin of her face became mottled, and she began to weep.
I rolled on my side toward her.
She said my name, wiping her eyes and breathlessly whispering more words I could not understand.
I put my finger on her lips. "Min-Ji," I whispered. "No."
She searched my eyes, and she was so beautifully forlorn that I wrapped her in my arms and kissed her lips.
She squeaked, but not in shock or anger. It sounded more like surprise and gladness. Her body softened in my arms. Her tiny hand alighted upon my chest.
I groaned into her lips when my hand cupped the broad heft of her breast, feeling the rigid nipple tickle my palm.
I didn't ever want to let go, but I released in order to slide my hand over her ass and draw our bodies together.
Min-Ji gasped when my erection slid up against her little patch of hairs. The tip drove through the fur and slid along her skin until it rested upon her navel. My testicles nestled into her pubic hairs.
Not wanting to part my body from hers, I reached behind her ass and lifted her leg. My fingers crawled there, seeking and finding, rubbing and sliding.
Then, delving.
Min-Ji almost silently moaned on my lips. Her pussy lubricated my middle finger instantly. I inched the digit back and forth in the yielding, but taut grip of her body.
Her hand glided down my tummy. Her fingertips found and tentatively caressed the shaft.
I broke the kiss. I could see in her face every response to my finger. Her eyes closed, her lips parted, she moaned, and she tipped her head back as if lost in ecstasy.
She had forgotten about my cock, drowning in her own pleasure.
When my lips met hers again, she gasped and responded boldly, thrusting her tongue in my mouth as if the kiss was exactly what she desired at that moment. Her body began to undulate upon my finger.
Not long after, Min-Ji voiced a breathless climax into my mouth. Her orgasm was a kind of surrender—languid and yielding. I felt her body contract on my finger, but only there. The rest of her melted slowly. Her arrestingly sexy and feminine orgasm lasted almost a minute, it seemed, and then she broke the kiss with a sweet sigh, relaxing completely.
I kissed her cheek, her chin, her neck, and her chest.
I kissed her breast once. Twice. Three and four times. And then I took a nipple into my lips while my hands explored her thighs and her ass—feeling, rubbing, and massaging. All the while, I gently thrust my cock against her leg.
A minute or so after I had begun, Min-Ji began to speak to me again. I glanced up at her. She kissed my forehead and continued talking. She spoke with mounting energy, always a whisper, but one becoming ever more enthusiastic.
There was amazement in her words—and joy, it seemed. She was like a person absolutely dying to tell her story to someone. At one point, she drew my face from her breast, and cupping my cheeks with both hands, she laughed quietly as if telling me the most jubilant part of her tale.
I resumed licking and sucking her nipples. Then, her voice grew even more hushed. She sounded serious and nervous.
I quit and glanced at her.
She swallowed and whispered my name. She moved, creating space between our bodies. Her fingers pinched at the edge of the solar blanket. She drew it off of us, and she stared at my penis.
Min-Ji glanced at me and spoke. Had it been a question?
I had nothing to say.
She gazed at my cock, still whispering. Then, she curled up her knees and began to scoot further into the tunnel. Down. Down.
I helped her, scooting up toward the opening. Soon, Min-Ji's mouth and the head of my erection were level. She spoke to me.
Tentatively, she reached for my cock and grasped it in her gentle fingers. The tip was fractions of an inch from Min-Ji's lips, and she whispered. I felt the air in tiny pockets, washing over the throbbing head.
She closed her eyes, still whispering, and it seemed to me like a kind of prayer. Not long after, she pursed her lips, and I watched her kiss the very tip of my erection. She drew back and glanced up at me. Her eyes were a mixture of anxiety and excitement.
She's like a girl who knows exactly what to do, I thought, but has never done it before.
Min-Ji's tongue squeezed from between her lips, and it touched my penis and drew back. She spoke again in a kind of hushed awe. Then, with her tongue barely out of her mouth, she licked precisely over the slit of my cock's exit.
Drawing back, she looked at the place where she had licked, surveying the new stripe of saliva she had deposited. She licked again. Then, she spoke to my cock.
Her words were unknown to me, but the tone was soft and loving, albeit with a few halts and stammers from her apparent nerves.
Min-Ji glanced at me again, uttering excited words before lifting my cock to my stomach and taking in the sight of my testicles. She spoke again, and she kissed each one. Her other hand slid up and caressed the sack, gently rolling the balls over her fingertips.
She seemed to be talking about what she was doing. Then, her eyes met mine despite the intrusion of my erection. She said my name and drew herself up level with my cock again.
Grasping the shaft, she aimed it into her mouth. She whispered a final phrase, closed her eyes, and parted her lips.
I watched the mushroom tip distend her lips. Min-Ji's jaw fell open as she welcomed more and more of the shaft into her mouth. She hummed a tiny squeak and ceased the progress. I felt her tongue slither on the underside, and then she slowly disgorged the few inches she'd managed to take in.
With a gasp, she glanced at me eagerly.
I nodded.
She whispered something to me and smiled. Then, she whispered to my cock again and resumed.
Ultimately, she managed to engulf about half of my cock, and from there, she very slowly bobbed upon it. She was almost continually swallowing. I felt the brief tugs and the little flexes and responses that sent undulations throughout her mouth.
I caressed her hair and whispered her name.
When she held in place at the deepest point she could manage, I grunted, feeling the hot power of my climax surge forward, closer.
I could see that she felt the contractions in her mouth.
She looked at me, her jaw straining to encompass and contain the thick living pipe.
Something about her expression swept me to a newer, higher peak. And it was the feel of her mouth, her lips, and her tongue, too. All of it. I felt a ripple of hot effervescence roll down my body to my feet. My toes flexed outward and the soles of my feet prickled and buzzed in response to the shocking pleasure.
I cursed through gritted teeth.
She drew back to the tip, and I felt the dizzying rush begin to explode from me.
Quickly guiding her back down the shaft, I gently held her in place. Cum burst from the tip into her mouth. More. I felt like my head would explode.
More.
Fuck me it was good.
I felt her gather and swallow, gather and swallow. With every ingestion, she squeaked.
More. Fuck me, it was the greatest blowjob I'd ever had.
Don't stop, Min-Ji. Shit.
She swallowed one final time, and it ended.
Letting out a long, whispering groan, my body sagged into resignation.
A few seconds elapsed before I felt Min-Ji expel my cock; I heard her gasp.
I breathed deeply for a few seconds, and then I drew her up to me, kissing her forehead. She looked at me expectantly, her eyes reddened from the exertion. I said her name, smiled, and held her body close to mine.
Fuck, that was good. I needed that.
She fell asleep in my arms.
As the lingering pleasure ebbed and passed, I listened outside of the tunnel, quietly cursing myself for neglecting my duties.
***
By my map, I had put thirteen kilometers between us and the intersection. The South Korean border varied between about 1.5 kilometers and 5 kilometers from that straight line. I guessed the North Koreans had about 40 to 45 square kilometers to search.
They needed luck or dogs. There was no way to get enough people to form a picket line long enough to walk north from the border, outstretched arm to arm, and find us. No way.
It had to be more dogs. Had to be.
And, sooner or later, those bodies might be found. A swift current from the rainfall might loosen the dummy cord from a sinking stone, and suddenly, a floating foot would appear. They would know they're looking for more than one scent, and they might be able to find mine.
Why hadn't I planned for dogs? I pondered angrily.
Because I never considered having to hole up and stay in country, I knew. Kwan shows, we go. He doesn't show, I go. Kwan gets hurt, I make a decision: if he can move reasonably well, we go. If he can't, I kill him. Either way, I planned on being out before sunrise.
But he became she. She wasn't some grizzled old prick of a Colonel. She was an eighteen-year-old innocent who was probably being used for a political purpose. I could not bring myself to kill her.
So I was still in country, and if I had planned for dogs, I could have foiled their hunt. There were techniques, artificial scent markers. I remembered the training.
What they were probably doing now, I imagined, was getting bloodhounds—the real scent dogs. German shepherds were better warriors than scent dogs. Bloodhounds were bred for scent. They were unmatched at trailing.
They would be getting bloodhounds, then, and sending them out randomly, hoping to seize upon our trail.
It was infuriating, thinking our escape was now at the whim of chance and not my own force of will.
I made a decision, right there.
It was 1044. The rain had stopped, and the air temperature was climbing, already in the high 50s.
I climbed out of the tunnel, got dressed, and took up a post watching the north-south paved road in front of us.
I was only about 15 meters from the tunnel, lying prone with cammy netting over my head and arms.
It was a paved road, but two regular-sized vehicles could not pass abreast, much less two military ones.
I was looking for three things. First, I wanted to know all of the types of vehicles that traveled on this road. Second, I wondered how frequently by type each vehicle was used. Last, I hoped to uncover some predictability, some routine, to at least one of them.
Hell, the North Korean delivery driver who picked me up from the beach during my infiltration had a routine. Maybe the civilians or military here did, too.
Checking-in periodically with Min-Ji, I observed the road for two hours. During this time, I saw four UAZ-3151s—basically a covered military Jeep. I counted two Ural-4320s, these were six-wheeled troop and equipment carriers. I saw a FAW-MV3—another six-wheeled cargo truck. Finally, I watched a civilian truck, a white Sangri, roll through.
As I walked back to eat with Min-Ji, I heard the buzz of a four-cylinder car. I ducked and watched. A non-military blue GAZ—an old Soviet sedan—zipped past, heading south. The thing had to have been from the 1980s. It turned right into a drive not more than 200 meters south of us. I watched it park beside a long, one-story building.
A civilian man emerged, carrying a paper sack in his arms. He went into the building.
I went back, ate with MIn-Ji, and returned to watch the road.
More of the same, but the blue GAZ remained.
At 1800, I got Min-Ji out of our tunnel to dress and get ready for travel. A few minutes later, all of our gear was ready at a moment's notice. I put her back in the tunnel and pointed at the eight on my watch face.
Then, I hit our back trail as the sun began to set.
I didn't want to spend more than two hours. I was trying to get a sense of the intensity of their patrols in the area. Just how close, I asked myself, were they to us?
About 20 minutes later, I found a spot with a commanding view to the south, west, and north. From the position, I also knew that no one could sneak in behind me and get to Min-Ji without being seen.
Telling myself I would punch out at 1940, I switched my NVGs to infrared and scanned.
Deacon had told me Defense Clandestine Services equipment was state of the art. He didn't lie. The infrared setting on these NVGs put special forces ones to shame. These could see much farther and clearer. What's more is that they could penetrate foliage and twigs.
We jokingly called them "X-Ray Specs" for that reason, and yes, if I had wanted to get a good look at Min-Ji's body through her clothes, with my X-Ray Specs set to infrared, I could have.
Though, of course, I now knew pretty well what was under there. The memory brought a smile to my face as I listened and watched.
I never made it to 1940. I rolled well before.
"Rolled" isn't the right word. I launched. I ditched. I pulled the ejector handle.
I fucking sprinted out of there.
Sometime shortly after true nightfall, I saw the heat signature of a squad-sized patrol—about 12 soldiers. They were led by dogs—four of them. They were about 1000 meters away.
They were on our trail.
"Mother fuck!" I hissed, turning tail and rocketing back toward the tunnel at flank speed. I no longer cared if I might be seen. It didn't matter anymore. I would shoot and keep running. Nothing but escape mattered now.
They were back on our trail. They had Min-Ji's scent again or they had mine—or both. With squad-sized patrols, it was likely they had found the bodies I Ieft in the creek. No way I could engage a squad without alerting the whole fucking DPRK army to our location.
Leaping down the short cliff, I threw open the tunnel and hissed, "Min-Ji! Now! Go!"
I hauled her out and threw her on my back, careful to cover the tunnel and make sure every item of our gear was in hand. I ran with her to the place where I'd seen the GAZ.
There really was no other choice.
Along the side of the slope, I duck-walked with Min-Ji on my back until I could set her down against the side of the one-story building.
How close were my pursuers now? My run back to the tunnel would have helped me gain on them. Getting to this building would have made me lose ground. Still at 1000 meters, but closing, I guessed.
Creeping from window to window, I listened. Chatter and conversation. Perhaps ten or fifteen people in a single area. Children's voices.
Food. I could smell food.
Dinner time.
I did a slow circuit around the house, listening and scanning, to confirm my supposition.
900 meters.
The low ground to the east seemed clear, but I checked with infrared and night vision to be sure. The road was clear, too.
I went to the car. Windows up. Door unlocked.
One more thing to check.
I deserve some luck, I thought. We deserve it.
I gently opened the car door and looked.
Fuck. No keys. And bursting in that building and demanding the keys was not an option.
What if they wouldn't give them up? Was I prepared to start shooting? Civilians and kids? Fuck, no.
I knew other ways to start the car, but was there time enough?
800 meters from us.
Didn't matter. Had to try.
Setting my pack in the passenger seat, I bent under the steering wheel and looked up. Four plastic Phillips screws. I pulled out my All-Purpose Tool, slid out the Phillips screwdriver, and went to work. The trim covering the steering column came off in a jiffy.
700 meters. Scent getting stronger.
Now for the ignition switch. I needed to find where the electrical circuitry for the starter met the mechanical switch—where the key went.
It was covered by an aluminum box with four tiny nuts. I switched to my needle-nose pliers, tucking away the screwdriver.
The jaws slipped off the first nut.
They slipped off again.
I tried a different nut, and they grabbed. Two twists, and the rest I did with my fingers.
600 meters.
Next nut. Got it. Same-same.
The third little nut was at a tricky angle. I missed twice but got it on my third attempt. My fingers couldn't get in there, so I had to take the time to twist it off with the pliers.
Got it.
500 meters.
Our scent was getting stronger, I thought. Dogs probably closing faster, tugging at the leashes.
When would they set loose the four of them on us? Soon. Fuck. Soon.
Last stubborn nut. The pliers slipped off. And again. Fuck! And again!
I pulled my face up to scrutinize the fucking thing.
Stripped.
The fucker was stripped.
400 meters.
Fuck it. I dug my fingers under the diagonally-opposite corner from the stripped nut and yanked the fucker as hard as I could.
It snapped off.
There were the wires! Three tiny flat-head screws held the housing together.
Switching tools, I began unscrewing each.
300 fucking meters. Shit! Shit!
I stopped.
Baying. I heard the baying of hounds.
Panic seized me. Keep going or get Min-Ji and put her in this car right fucking now? She's got to be pissing herself.
The passenger door opened.
I drew back and swung up my rifle.
Min-Ji. It was her. I sighed, but in my head, I was singing her praises for her presence of mind. Yes, crawl your ass over here. Thank you.
Back to those screws. Two out, one to go.
200 meters. If they see us in this car, we are dead. They'll call it in on their radio. Choppers will be all over us. Dead.
Got the screw out and drew the housing apart. The key cylinder unscrewed, and I threw it aside. Looking inside the hole it left behind, I saw what I needed.
Thank goodness for old cars with mechanical tumble-lock ignition switches!
I switched to my needle-nose pliers, reached inside to the tab, and turned it right one click.
I twisted the steering wheel. The steering column was unlocked.
Turning another click, the battery engaged.
Fuck, yes.
100 meters.
Rising, I threw my shit in the back, and I closed and locked the doors. Min-Ji stared at me wide-eyed.
I shifted the seat back to accommodate my legs.
Hoping like hell the families inside the house were too busy with conversation and grub, I twisted the pliers one last time.
The engine turned over.
And over. Fuck me, 75 meters? Less?
The GAZ started.
I threw it in reverse and eased backward out of the driveway.
Scanning the street, I saw that all was clear. I pulled on the headlamps, backed onto the road, and turned north. As I passed the hill with our tunnel, I thought I saw movement.
Could have been dogs.
Holy shit.
We drove away. Our scent trail was cut off.
***
This, I said to myself, is the best way to thwart scent dogs—get in a fucking car and go. Those soldiers would find out about the car, I knew, but they hadn't seen us in it.
The road hugged the hills to the west, curving northward. After a kilometer or so, I pulled aside.
"Min-Ji, can you drive?" I asked, pointing at her and the driver's seat, then pointing at her and mimicking steering the car.
She nodded. "Ye!"
"Come here," I waved her over. She climbed onto my lap, and I scooted under her to the passenger seat.
She moved the seat forward. I pointed down the road. She pulled out, and we were off.
Checking the map, I saw a major intersection about another kilometer in front of us.
Did they have the roads blocked? Would there be a checkpoint?
I would have checkpoints, I thought, if I were them.
"Slower," I said, pointing to the gas pedal and angling the flat of my hand back and up. "Slow down."
"Ho-kay," she said, easing off the gas.
Re-checking the map, I looked for an alternate route.
A turn-out lay ahead—one that might be able to take us far away from any checkpoints. When I saw the gravel road out the windshield, I said, "Min-Ji!" She watched me point out the new route.
She slowed and turned.
"Lights off," I said.
MIn-Ji continued to drive.
I lined across her and turned off the lights. Min-Ji cried, "Ah!" And brought the car to a stop.
"Yes," I said. "Stop."
"Staw?" she responded as I reached into the back and grabbed my NVGs. Donning them, I switched from infrared to night vision and scanned the road ahead.
I saw what I needed and pushed the goggles up from my eyes.
We looked at one another. I held out my right hand. "Right," I said, mimicking spinning the wheel clockwise. "Left," I said, putting out my left and spinning counterclockwise.
"Right," I said with my right hand out.
"Rye," she said.
"Left," I said, throwing out my left.
"Leff."
I nodded and pulled down the NVGs. "Go," I said.
"Ho-kay."
"Slowly," I added.
"Slo-lee," she said.
We went along, veering toward the left shoulder.
"Screw it," I snapped, grabbing the wheel and putting us back on in the center of the road.
Scanning left, we came upon our turn a few seconds later.
"Left," I announced, pushing the wheel hard over.
Min-Ji turned it the rest of the way.
Once on the new road, I corrected us to the right, and we were headed north again.
The road wound into a low foothill, but it came out on the main road after about two kilometers. I held the wheel and helped her turn, handling all right ones and assisting her on the lefts.
"Stop," I said as we closed with the intersection. Min-Ji was beginning to understand that one. She stopped us bout 250 meters from the junction.
I switched to infrared and examined ahead.
No guards.
I switched back to night vision. Adjusting the focus and scrutinizing the map, I looked for a turn off the main road once we were on it.
There were several.
I flipped the map over and scanned further north. We needed to ditch this car and soon.
Word would be out. The dogs would have led the squad to that building where I stole the car. The people there would see the missing car and describe it, and then the patrol would send out the word—stop any blue GAZ, extremely dangerous.
"Go," I said, and we went.
At the intersection, I said, "Right."
She turned us, and I helped.
Once we were on the main road and moving, I turned our headlights on.
Min-Ji's voice sounded relieved and a bit sarcastic when she spoke.
The road bent hard north. We followed it, winding into foothills. I noticed that had we turned west, the road would have eventually led right back to the intersection where we first met.
Heading north, I was no longer worried about roadblocks or checkpoints; this path was taking us further from the DMZ, even though the border turned sharply north in these parts.
She followed the road for another 10 minutes before I asked her to slow down and had us make a left. We kept the lights on while we wound through a valley around a few acres of farmland.
As the road began to bear north, I said, "Slow."
"Slo," she repeated.
Then, I reached across her and said, "Lights off." I pushed the headlamps off.
"Lye-Aw."
Using my NVGs, I guided her the rest of the way.
After a few hundred meters of left and right curves to keep us on the gravel road, I said, "Stop."
Climbing out, I peered through my NVGs and walked ahead. After about 75 meters, the road turned hard right so that one could circle the farm completely.
I ignored the turn and forged ahead, coming to a low bank.
Could the GAZ make it over this? I wondered as I mounted the small slope. Beyond it, the ground sunk. Lower. Lower.
I heard the water.
I saw it through my NVGs—the river.
This was the tributary that led to the Imjin River. All of those creeks and wetlands we had passed over, everything ultimately led to the Imjin River, which flowed through the DMZ to South Korea and connected with the larger Han River. The Han emptied into the ocean at the Yellow Sea on Korea's west coast.
I ran back to the car.
"Follow me," I said to MIn-JI.
"Fwo-lo," she responded.
I walked in front of the car, leading her to the river.
On the edge of the short bank leading down to the river, I stopped Min-Ji. She got out. I climbed inside and inched the GAZ to the very precipice before parking.
Min-Ji and I spent a few minutes gathering heavy stones and loading both the passenger area and the trunk. Afterward, I slashed all of the tires. Finally, from outside of the vehicle, I stuck my foot on the brake and put it in low-drive. It teetered for a moment, and when I shoved it, the car rolled down into the river.
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