"Ho...," she began, stopping when a surge of ice-cold water washed over her mouth. "...Kay."
Fighting the onslaught of water, I drew up my bag and pulled out my diamond-titanium snips. Did they cut rebar? I guessed we would find out.
Planting my feet against the steel bars at the three and nine o'clock positions, I relaxed my legs enough to let the water bend my upper body toward the grate, just beside Min-Ji. This was quarter-inch rebar. The gaps were no more than three inches square.
I guess the North Koreans don't even want their fucking otters crossing the border, I said to myself.
Reaching out, I put the first section in the jaws of my snips and squeezed. And squeezed.
I could feel the progress, but it was slow.
Fuck, the water was cold.
Finally, with an audible pop, the first cut had been made.
Next one.
My plan was to snap through the above-water joints first, working my way around the culvert counter-clockwise.
Min-Ji moaned with exhaustion as I cut through more. Her head began to dip under the water for a few seconds.
The absolute chill drained me of life. My legs shook with the effort of keeping myself in a position to make the cuts.
Next one.
Next one.
Next one. The rest of the cuts would be underwater.
Min-Ji cried out. Her face went below the surface, this time for about five seconds.
I could not help her. To do that would mean I would never be able to get back into a position to cut. I just wouldn't have the strength.
No, I decided, the rebar comes first.
Next one.
Five to go. Maybe six.
Min-Ji's face broke the surface. She cried for me.
"Hold on!" I shouted.
Next one.
She sunk.
Squeezing with everything I had, the next one popped.
Min-Ji did not come up.
Fuck!
I raced to the next one. Five seconds later, pop! Two more to go, but maybe I could bend it with just one more.
MIn-Ji had not reappeared.
No!
I let go with my legs, and the water slammed me against the grate. Reaching under the surface, I found Min-Ji and hauled her up by the shirt enough to grip her body. I pulled her to the surface. She was limp in my arms.
And I had dropped the snips. They were gone.
No.
No!
"No!" I shouted. With my back to the grate and Min-Ji in my arms, I planted my feet on the sides of the corrugated metal tube and shoved.
It held, and I pushed once more with what felt like the last of my strength. The metal grate suddenly cranked over.
Instantly, Min-Ji and I were submerged by the rushing water, rocketing through the tunnel on the current.
We surfaced about five seconds later. I glanced backward at the DMZ fence. Every soldier's back was to us; they were searching the field to the north.
And we were now inside the North Korean part of the DMZ.
Immediately, I checked on Min-Ji. Spinning her face towards mine, I rubbed her arms as the current carried us toward the Imjin River.
Her face was bereft of color, but her eyes opened. "Ski-pa," she muttered.
"I've got you, Min-Ji," I said, and I wrapped my legs around her body and began rubbing her intensely as we bobbed on the surface.
Getting her out of the water was imperative, but the fact was I couldn't.
The creek kept us moving—fairly swiftly—toward the river and, ultimately, the border, and there was no fence on the actual line between the two countries. The next set of fences would be on the South Korean edge of the DMZ.
On the other hand, if I climbed out with her, both of us sopping wet, we would still be in North Korea. We would be slowly dying of exposure. I would soon be unable to carry her, and there was no place to hide in these lowlands teeming with minefields.
There were no mines in the river.
Not even sure I could feel my arms, I rubbed away at Min-Ji, keeping her close against my body.
Suddenly, I felt the current increase, and to my left, I saw the Imjin River connect with us. The combined currents pushed us into the middle.
I estimated 2000 meters along the bends and shoots of this river to a place where I could safely pull us out. Watching the bank, I guessed our speed at a touch under two meters per second—a good clip. Maybe 20 more minutes in the frigid water.
There was no point in remaining on guard for DPRK soldiers patrolling inside the DMZ. I couldn't do anything about them. The only thing to do was to keep Min-Ji as warm as possible.
At one point, an eddy spun me about ninety degrees to the west. I glanced along the lighted fence line behind us on both sides. Not much happening.
As I turned back, I saw three sets of headlights about a kilometer away, perhaps more. They were stopped, pointing into the DMZ.
My recollection of the map filled in the blank: there was a gate on that hill—a guarded military gate that let patrols inside the fence.
A platoon, I guessed, in those three trucks. About 40 men were probably jumping out the back of them and sprinting for the river, for us.
No military vehicles were allowed in the DMZ, only soldiers on foot, and the Armistice had strict rules about how many at a time.
I guessed the DPRK was willing to flex that rule a bit on this occasion, but they would never violate the vehicle rule and risk an all-out war with the US and South Korea.
I worked the mental math for our speed and distance, and I did the same for those soldiers.
This would be a close thing.
I ran my hands up and down Min-Ji. Looking south, I could see a South Korean observation post and the lights of the ROK side of the DMZ about 1300 meters away.
There was a place, I knew, where I could get us out of the river sooner on the South Korean side. It was maybe five more minutes on the river, and I could step out onto free soil. The trouble was that OP would quickly spot us. True, being seen and caught by ROK soldiers was a vastly different matter than by DPRK. Still, my orders for Operation Minnow were to avoid any and all contact with the ROK.
I had to ride it out.
"Stay with me, Min-Ji. Come on," I urged, massaging her body with wet noodles for arms.
Suddenly, a flare went up into the sky from the South Side. I saw ROK soldiers running down the hill from the OP. DPRK coming south. ROK running north.
What the fuck? I thought. Is there going to be an international incident here?
A minute later, the river bent west. Now and for the next 900 meters, the border was the river. On my left, freedom; on my right, capture.
"Come on, girl. Get warm, girl," I murmured.
The North Koreans were closing in—400 meters.
The South Koreans were a mere 200 meters from the river, but they were running at an angle that would put them on the river's edge behind us.
What the hell? I wondered. Do they not see us?
Focusing on Min-Ji, I spent the next minute or so doing everything I could in my weakness to keep her warm.
Then, I heard the shouting.
Craning back to see, the South Koreans were on the riverbank, and they were taunting, it seemed, taunting the North Korean soldiers.
Turning to the other side, the North Korean soldier running at the front of the pack appeared to hear the ROK soldiers. He bent toward them.
I blinked.
The rest of the DPRK platoon, scattered behind this leader, began angling to where the fastest man was running.
I didn't want to make a sound. I didn't want to be seen. I let the river carry us and, using my hand as a steering oar, turned myself around to watch the confrontation.
There they were. The South Koreans were chanting something on one side. A bunch of the North Koreans were screaming on the other. Another smaller group of DPRK soldiers was walking along the bank, scanning the river. Between them, an officer yelled at the men in the argument with their neighbors.
There's my luck, I thought. I just got it. The North Koreans must have thought we climbed out where the South Koreans were. It made sense. If I could have, I would have.
I listened to the diminishing sounds of the conflict as the river bent south. While I paddled us to the bank, I could have sworn I heard singing.
They're singing at each other, I thought, singing their National Anthems.
Necessity breeds the strength to go on. I hauled Min-Ji out of the river. I put her on my back in a fireman's carry, and I walked the last 90 meters to the nearest hillside.
I set her down, gathered up some leafy branches, and undressed us both. Completely naked, I put her under the solar blanket and laid the camouflage on top. Then I climbed inside and tucked the ends under us until we were completely sealed inside. I drew her shivering body to mine, and I wrapped her in my arms and legs.
The time was 0103.
It took every bit of the next two hours to bring her body up to temperature. With what little energy she had regained, she guzzled down her entire canteen and half of mine. I finished the rest and left our little hooch long enough to refill them and return.
By 0422, she seemed recovered enough that I could leave her for a spell.
I found a shitty little drop and began to dig out a tunnel. With all of the stones and rocks that my knife encountered, it took two hours to finish. In the growing daylight, I moved us inside and concealed the outer edge.
We were safe enough.
We slept.
***
A few times in the morning, I was awakened by noises—the South Korean side of the DMZ was a mere 275 meters from our shelter. I heard vehicles and voices, but nothing to keep me up.
A little after 1300, I woke up and stayed up.
Night of nights, I thought ruefully. That was no bullshit, right there.
The final phase of my mission was fairly straightforward—get us out of the DMZ, past the ROK Civilian Control line, and call in my position, which was quite similar to my initial plan.
On my original route, there was to be a cell phone waiting for me at a certain set of coordinates. I was to retrieve it and call a number. A car would pick us up, and there would be the end of things.
Everything in the original plan remained except the phone. That cell phone was many kilometers away and would most certainly have been retrieved by now.
I knew the number to call; I just wouldn't have the phone to do it with.
Working for me, though, were several benefits. First, the South Koreans had removed and proofed all of their minefields. Second, they didn't much patrol the DMZ. They patrolled the area between the DMZ and their CC line, but it was no longer 1954.
Those soldiers really weren't worried about a North Korean invasion anymore. What troubled the ROK military the most was idiots trying to gain notoriety by sneaking into the DMZ. Those soldiers tended to focus their attention south, not north.
Food was the bigger concern because we could not travel until nightfall. I climbed out of the shelter, dressed in my wet clothes, hung out Min-Ji's to dry, and went to forage in the trees.
It didn't take long for me to decide to start gathering pine cones, tons of them. The things were everywhere. I filled my shirt over and over again, making a heaping pile. Then, entering a small clearing, I found a treasure: wild strawberries. I took every one that seemed ripe enough.
On a medium-sized, flat-topped stone, I tapped the cones and pine nuts began falling free. In twenty-five minutes, I had a meal of them. After another twenty minutes, I had two meals. Along with the strawberries, we were set.
Finding a small brook in the forest that led to the Imjin, I took all of the nuts and berries in my shirt and rinsed them clean with filtered water out of my canteen. Then I carried everything back to Min-Ji.
She was awake. Her color had returned, but not completely. She seemed listless. I handed her a refilled canteen, and then I climbed in beside her and laid out our meal.
She smiled weakly, and we nibbled on the pine nuts.
When they were gone, I brought in the strawberries, and Min-Ji's eyes went wide. She spoke excitedly. We finished them all, tossing the green leaves outside the tent.
Fifteen minutes later, she was asleep.
I went back to my water source and rinsed my body.
The sun shined brightly, and the day grew reasonably warm—72 degrees. I took all of our clothes to the brook and rinsed them as well, wringing them out and hanging them back out to dry. Afterward, I sat on the grass outside our shelter, reliving the past three nights.
What could I have done differently? If we made it out, what decisions would Deacon question?
There had been risks, surely. Some were rewarded. Others not, but we had our share of bad luck.
I recalled with a shudder how close I had been to killing Min-Ji more than once.
"No," I whispered.
I grabbed my map to study and plan for the night.
Min-Ji climbed out of the shelter at around 1545. She seemed re-energized. I grabbed my canteen and my filter, and I carried her to the brook. There, I rinsed her body clean—every inch of it.
I had seen it all before, but never this clearly. I guessed her height at 5 feet 1 inch. Her weight was definitely under 100 pounds; my earlier estimate of 90 was probably right, though she may have been even skinnier now due to the last three days. Her hair fell down to her shoulder blades when wet.
She was surprisingly fit. In her previous life, she must have decided or been forced to keep fit. Still, her frame was exceedingly skinny, making her breasts seem all the more disproportional. I was a big fella with big mitts, and I could not wrangle one of her tits into a single hand.
Her legs had strength and fitness, beautiful curves under that creamed tea skin. If anything truly surprised me, it was her little ass.
Min-Ji was one of those women gifted with a sharply arching lower back that had the effect of bubbling out her butt. I rinsed that ass for a long, long time. My hands could not get enough.
Min-Ji smiled at my erection.
Finished, I carried her into the sunshine and laid her down. My body felt alive with anticipation. I knew exactly what I wanted, and I wanted it badly.
I kissed Min-Ji and caressed her body. She accepted it, responding in kind to my touches. Then, I rose and spread her knees apart, climbing between.
She watched me nervously. I assumed her insides may have been a little sore from losing her virginity, but that wasn't my objective yet.
I laid on my belly between her thighs.
Min-Ji's eyes widened. She began whispering something, but it must have caught in her throat when she felt my tongue wiggle through her hairs and caress her vagina.
I wanted my mouth on this pussy so badly. My cock, mirroring my excitement, was like the steel barrel of a grenade launcher underneath me.
With two fingers, I spread her apart and softly licked her clit, turning circles around it with the tip of my tongue.
Min-Ji gasped.
I continued using my lips and tongue on her little spot, taking her higher and higher.
She whispered dreamy words to the sky above. She made little squeaks of pleasure.
When she felt my finger slide beneath my tongue and inch inside of her pussy, she moaned in delight. Time slipped away from me between her thighs. Eventually, Min-Ji covered her mouth and cried out into her hands.
I smiled, not yet satisfied.
She protested for a moment before biting her lower lip and humming sweetly.
When her next orgasm appeared imminent, I promptly rolled her over and hauled her to her hands and knees.
She gasped in surprise.
Without hesitating, I seized her hips and immersed my face in her pussy to finish her off.
I listened to her choke back the rapturous cries of another orgasm. With one long and languorous lick, I drew back. MIn-Ji's arms gave way. Her face and chest sank to the grass.
On my knees behind her, I put my hands on that beautiful ass, caressing and kneading the flesh. Her skin there was warm and lush. The flesh underneath was full and firm.
I listened to Min-Ji's breathing slow from a rapid pant to a relaxed sigh.
My erection ached for a connection. The skin upon it shined, feeling as if stretched to its very limits over a cast-iron bar underneath.
The moment my hand grasped the shaft, it flexed in response to the contact. I guided the tip towards Min-Ji's pussy. When the head divided her labia and began to penetrate, Min-Ji flinched and pulled away.
Her face spun to me. She shook her head and spoke urgently. Then, sitting up on her knees, she touched her vagina and winced as if sore.
I understood, nodding. Her body ached from losing her virginity the day before. She wasn't ready to do it again.
When she saw that I grasped her meaning, she smiled sadly and began to lay on her tummy, but I stopped her.
She looked back at me.
I stared down at her ass. I watched my thumbs drag over the flesh. I watched them knead circles. I moved them closer to the cleft. Closer. I drew her apart, letting her anus peak out.
I felt my breath catch in my windpipe. My lungs drew air raggedly. Nervous energy flooded my body.
I knew Min-Ji watched me.
I bent down, keeping her ass spread. My mouth hovered an inch over Min-Ji's tiny puncture. I twirled my tongue in my mouth a few times, gathered up the fluids, and let them fall off my bottom lip, blanketing her anus in my saliva.
Rising behind her, we locked eyes. She was stunningly gorgeous and utterly unreadable.
Still looking at one another, I massaged the wetness into the wrinkled flesh. It grew pliable. I urged the tip of my middle finger against it, and her taut ring allowed its passage inside.
Min-Ji's eyes widened. Her jaw unhinged.
I buried my finger to the second knuckle, gradually inching it back and forth.
Min-Ji didn't speak. She gazed at me, breathing deeply.
Tugging out my finger, I cupped the head of my cock. My tongue swept through every nook and pocket of my mouth, drawing together a large dollop of saliva. I pursed my lips and let gravity convey the flow over the head of my cock. My hand caught the spillover, and I massaged the saliva all over the shaft.
It needed more, and I provided it. Then, I applied yet more to Min-Ji.
I guided the glistening, sopping head of my cock to her. It grazed the wet, crinkled skin. Satisfied at the position, I glanced at Min-Ji.
Her chest pumped air in anxious anticipation. She watched me like prey peers at the predator.
I advanced.
Min-Ji's anus resisted only momentarily. It soon began to dilate, admitting my cock in the tiniest increments. It was like watching the sun slowly sink into the earth at dusk watching the great head of my cock pass so ploddingly inside of her.
I didn't wish to rush matters. I wanted to let her body yield to mine at its own pace.
Min-Ji pinched her eyes shut and gritted her teeth. She stifled a high squeak of a hum. I felt her haunches bear down, and a moment later the tip of my cock sank home, locked inside by the fierce grip of her anus.
She voiced a long-held, throaty moan. Her head undulated as she drew deep draughts of air and blew them out. Her eyes opened. She swallowed, and then she nodded expressively.
Fucking her ass was, at the moment, the next best thing to what I truly desired but could not have. The feel of our bodies joined together was exulting.
I had no urge to plunge inside of her. I had no desire to fuck-attack her body. I just needed this connection to her—to be one, my body and hers.
I fucked her slowly, taking only what she was willing to give, and it was not much.
But she gave more than enough. Her body was an engine of soft, feminine flesh. Joining with it charged me with rippling power.
Our eyes met, and she saw how her body was giving me intense pleasure. Panting and with a sheen of perspiration that made her skin glow, she said my name. Her face showed all of the strain, but newfound joy as well.
I said her name, and she smiled in spite of her labor. When I saw it, I was swept to the end. I clutched her hips and held her steady. I drew back, leaving only the plum head inside of her anus, and I watched the shaft pulse. Liquid volleys of cum flowed through me.
I held my breath as the exhilaration crested. I cursed, pinching my eyes shut in bright white ecstasy. My cock squeezed cum into her ass.
She felt it, squealing with each convulsive injection. More. More. And with a final, weakened throb, it was over.
I gasped.
Min-Ji and I watched each other for a moment. Both of us must have looked astonished.
I glanced at her ass and drew my cock free. She moaned exhaustedly.
Watching my semen dribble from the little hole, I collapsed backward, whispering her name again.
She crawled to me and lay across my chest. Her fingers wove themselves into mine.
We held hands.
***
When night arrived, we dressed and geared up for a final push. I took us west over a large hill before we turned south through a valley, stepped over a small creek, and crept to the DMZ fence.
Setting Min-Ji inside good cover, I returned to the fence and, using the little hacksaw on my multi-tool, cut a passage through it one link at a time. It took every bit of three hours. I stopped frequently to scan with my infrared, but not a single DMZ patrol ever passed us. That was the difference between North and South Korea.
Inside the Civilian Control Area, I carried her west until we met up with the small creek again. We followed it south as it meandered towards the Imjin River.
A good 1200 meters before it joined the Imjin, the creek passed under the CC fence. I set MIn-Ji down and inspected the culvert. It was a large, six-foot concrete tube, and the outlet for the creek consisted of four one-foot diameter holes in a diamond pattern, gated with half-inch rebar. The waterline only reached the middle of the two mid-level vents. The other side was all bank.
Piece of cake, I thought.
Backing out of the culvert, I took up a position and began firing silenced bullets into the concrete at its weakest point—where the vents came closest to one another. Between each shot, I waited about 10 seconds and listened.
After the 17th shot, a large chunk of concrete fell into the creek. It was now wide enough for us to get through. I helped Min-Ji first, and then I climbed out.
The reverse side of our neoprene was light grey with black trim wherever there was an opening—to appear less military and more civilian. We found some cover, wrung out our wet clothes, and changed over.
I did my best to show Min-Ji what we needed next—a phone—and how I hoped to get one. It took a while, but I felt she understood what she needed to do.
I led us to a street that crossed the Han River to our south, and I walked along with her on my back. Min-Ji seemed awestruck. She looked around us as if we were on some strange planet. There wasn't much difference between North and South Korea where we were, but I think just knowing we were there made it seem all the more incredible to her.
After 20 minutes or so, the headlamps of a car behind us finally appeared. I let Min-Ji down, adjusted her shirt to accentuate her breasts, and hid with my gear on the side of the road.
She waved down the car, hopping so as to shake her chest.
I laughed. That had been all her idea. Clever girl.
The car stopped.
I watched her hop over and speak with the man inside. He handed her something, and she held it in the air.
I walked over, leaving my gear hidden.
The man's eyes went wide.
I took the phone and dialed the number. When a voice came on, I gave the sign, got the countersign, and gave them my coordinates, requesting a non-emergency immediate pick-up for two. They told me what vehicles to expect; I told them their number was now compromised because I had to borrow a ROK civilian's cell phone.
I handed the phone back to Min-Ji, and she gave it back to the guy in the car, leaned into the window, and kissed his cheek.
The man appeared to drive off in a bit of a daze.
We waited together not far from the road. She clung to me and kissed my face until I turned and gave her my lips. She took my hand and brought it to one of her breasts. I did not protest. Her fingers crawled down to my crotch, and she squeezed my erection.
I drew back from her kiss, and she glanced at my crotch, grinning mischievously.
It was 0443. The road was mostly empty.
I nodded.
She unbuttoned my trousers, hauled out my erection, and dropped her mouth over it, sucking with shocking force.
I gasped and cursed.
She hummed, and her head began to rise and fall. I swept my fingers through her hair and guided her.
Two minutes later, I led her down and held her there while I came.
She whimpered when the first of it began spilling into her mouth. I listened to the muffled cluck of her throat as she gulped my semen, and I let go of her with a grunt.
Her head popped up, and when she saw the amazement on my face, she laughed and hugged me.
Blinking and collecting myself, I leaned back and secured my pants. As I sat up, two cars approached.
Both vans.
They stopped beside us. The rear door slid open on the first, and two men stepped out. One waited by the door. The second, a Korean, approached us. He stopped when he saw Min-Ji.
Looking at me, he asked, "Who is this?"
"Colonel Kwan."
Stunned, he turned to her. "Daeyeoung Kwan?" he asked.
She said, "Ye," nodding and pointing to herself.
He spoke to her in Korean for a moment and began walking to the van.
Min-Ji remained on the ground.
The man turned back. Clearly, he had expected her to follow.
I said, "She's hurt. Her ankle. Can't walk."
"Help her into the van," he told me.
I rose, swept her into my arms, and carried her to the van. Once seated and buckled, I stepped out.
The man climbed in.
The one beside the door stepped inside and began to close the door.
Min-Ji shouted.
The man at the door stopped.
Looking alarmed, Min-Ji pointed at me and spoke.
The leader responded, shaking his head.
About to complain, Min-Ji grew silent when she heard my voice. I said, "Min-Ji, it's okay."
She sat back, nodded, and said, "Ho-kay."
The door closed.
I went to the second van and climbed in beside the driver.
The driver, a long-haired fellow with a thick black beard, said, "Skipper?"
"Yeah."
He extended his hand. "Harley."
I shook it as the lead van drove away.
We followed.
Harley said, "Expected you three days ago."
"Yeah."
"Wasn't sure I'd ever get the call. Glad you made it."
"Yeah."
"Mission accomplished, right?"
I looked at him for a moment. "All I think I can say is thanks for the ride."
He nodded. "I read you loud and clear. Giving rides is Harley's job."
We drove in silence for a minute before Harley asked, "First mission?"
I turned to him.
He said, "Only ask because we never met before, and word from the underground says we got a new guy in OPGRU 4."
"Yeah. First one."
The lead van took an exit after the bridge.
We didn't follow.
I asked, "Where are they going?"
Harley shook his head. "Didn't tell me. Debriefing, s'pose."
"Where are we going?"
He gestured to the back of the van. "Duffel bag back there for you. Change of clothes and whatnot. Taking you straight to Humphreys. Got a bird waiting to take you back stateside."
I nodded, wondering if I would ever see Min-Ji again.
***
Thirty-seven hours and four stops later, I was sitting across from Deacon in Anacostia-Bolling, the AB.
The duffel bag in Harley's van had contained among other things a laptop, and I spent some of the flight back typing out my report and sending it to Deacon. He was reading or re-reading it in front of me.
"Damn," he said, sounding like he was reading a tragedy.
A minute later: "Damn." This time, it was more of an awed whisper.
A short time after that, he stopped and stared at me. "Damn."
I shrugged.
He appeared to read through to the end, and then he said, "Some hard luck, Skipper."
I shrugged again.
"I like how you write a report. Concise. Clear. Not bragging, not denying. A person who knows the business will know what really went down out there."
I said, "I figured it was for you."
"It is, but it's for the DOG, too, and it may go higher."
DOG was the Director of the Operations Groups in Defense Clandestine Services. I nodded.
Deacon rose from behind his desk and walked over to me, sitting in the chair beside me. "Lots of debriefings to come," he said, "but I want you to clean up and get some rest first."
"Thank you."
He leaned toward me. "Why didn't you terminate her, Skipper?"
"You wish I had?"
"No! No, we're glad to have her," he responded. "You know what I mean."
"After the ankle?"
He nodded.
I looked out the big window for a moment, thinking back to that first night. I sighed and responded, "She was an innocent, and I believed I could still get the job done."
Deacon considered this. He rubbed his grey-speckled goatee and nodded gravely. "I get it, Skipper. I hear you, but I need you to hear me. On a mission, she's the subject—nothing more and nothing less. She's not a woman. She doesn't have a family that will miss her. She doesn't have hopes and dreams. She's the subject and that's it. Never forget that."
"But look at her. How old is she? Nineteen? Twenty?"
"She's eighteen," he responded, "and it doesn't matter."
"Then what about the mission? You sent me there to...."
He interrupted. "It was accomplished. You got Kwan out, but at what potential cost? Think about the collateral damage that only occurred because you cared about her as a human being. Then, think about the collateral damage that might have occurred if you hadn't gotten her out."
"It's who I am, Deacon."
"No. That's who you are on the streets or back home. Out there on assignment, you are a Defense Executor—a tool of the DCS—not a man."
I thought about his words. He rose and patted my back twice. Then, he began to walk back around his desk.
"Hey, Deacon?" I asked. "Was she worth it?"
He stopped and turned to me. He put his finger to his lips and nodded deeply.
I knew not to ask what information she carried. In the Marine Raiders, I had years ago learned to live with unanswered questions. OPGRU 4 would be no different.
"Go home, Skipper," he said, sitting in his big chair.
"Last thing?"
He beckoned me with his hand, saying, "Send it."
"Is she here?"
"Maybe."
"If she was, could I see her?"
"Not without knowing where she is."
I nodded. "She ask about me?"
"Won't stop asking. Now, go."
I rose and turned for the door, but I stopped. I said, "I know you can't actually say anything, Deacon, but if you were to imagine—just imagine, mind you—the type of place where she might be staying, what kind of place do you imagine?"
Deacon tilted back in his big chair, eyeing me in silence. The suggestion of a smile began to appear on his face.
Min-Ji was very pleased to see me—orgasmic, really.
*****
Note: Thank you for taking the time to read this story. It's self-edited, so my apologies if mistakes pulled you out of the narrative. Skipper may deploy again. - editor fs
The End
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