The Target (Will Robie 3)

They spent a week at the Burner Box doing intense fieldwork in preparation. The rugged mountains of western North Carolina stood in for the ones they would face at Bukchang. A mockup of the prison and the targeted hut was constructed at the facility. During the first few exercises Robie, Reel, and Sook were “shot dead.” They had made great strides since. But none of them knew if it would be enough when they tried it for real.

The route in and out of the target would be unusual. As Sook had told them, prisoners escaping from Bukchang invariably headed north, toward China, whose long border with North Korea was not very far away. They would not be heading north. Too many things could go wrong, particularly with two obvious westerners in tow.

They all hoped that their out-of-the-box thinking would make it impossible for the North Koreans to follow them.

The night before they were to leave, Robie and Reel sat up late going over the plan one more time.

“Do you think Sook will hold up?” he asked.

“He’s done it before, Robie.”

“Many years ago. And it might have been part luck.”

“It might have been. But we’re probably going to need some luck too.”

“I don’t disagree with you. We have to keep our heads down, literally.”

She said, “But we’re the guardian angels. If we have to fight our way out, we’re going to have to do it.”

“I know.”

“I wonder if the president has considered the long game on this?”

“You mean us snatching the traitor’s family out from under the North Koreans?” Robie asked.

“Yep. If they were possibly going to come after us before, they’re sure as hell going to come after us if we pull this off.”

“He was pretty emotional about all this, so maybe he didn’t really think it through. But that’s not our call, Jessica. We’re just the muscle in the field.”

“Yeah, well, maybe the ‘brains’ should follow the muscles’ advice sometimes.”

“I don’t see that happening. Too many egos involved.”

“Seriously though, Robie, the North Koreans have nukes. And they’re crazy enough to use them. We pull this off they’ll feel like they’ve lost all face. They are not going to turn the other cheek. A successful mission here might just prove to be the catalyst for Armageddon.”

“Which means a lot of poor, innocent people will die because their leadership felt disrespected.”

“Which pretty much happens in every war ever fought,” she retorted.

“But this won’t be war; it’ll be annihilation.”

“You want to refuse the mission?”

Robie shook his head. “No. I’ll do the mission. I just want both of us to understand the possible outcomes.”

“I understand them very clearly. And at least the president, with all his faulty logic, is trying to make things right after what happened with Pak. I have to admire that.”

“So let’s go do this thing,” said Robie.

Chapter

57

THEY FLEW TO CHINA AND traveled to the coast by puddle jumper. From there they took a boat across Korea Bay at night and landed at the end of a small inlet that cut deeply into the North Korean coastline. The closest town was Anju. Bukchang was roughly thirty-five miles due east from their location.

There were just the three of them: Robie, Reel, and Kim Sook. They were all dressed in black, their faces also blackened. Robie and Reel were heavily armed and had state-of-the-art communication gear. They hoped to be able to use it at some point to later rendezvous with their support team.

Robie looked at Kim Sook as they tied down their high-performance rigid-hulled inflatable boat. The RIB could reach speeds of over fifty knots using relatively quiet engines.

“You ready?” Robie asked.

“Little late for that,” said Sook.

“Just checking.”

They had maps and directions loaded on electronic devices attached to their wrists like watches. Above them an American satellite was feeding them details about what lay ahead. In their earwigs a constant stream of intelligence info was being sent.

Stealth was critical here, but so was speed. They had a long distance to cover and they needed to get there and back while it was still dark. That would be impossible on foot. So they had something else—three small scooters, powered by batteries, which ran very quietly. There were also pedals that helped to recharge the batteries. With night-vision optics they could see in the dark. Robie went first, Sook took the middle, and Reel brought up the rear.

They stuck to the road as far as they dared, then went off road as they drew closer to the camp. Bukchang was in the middle of nowhere, so they would not have to navigate a city or any sort of populated area before reaching it. You didn’t build concentration camps among millions of people.

They encountered no problems on the trip in. The satellite gave them a clear line to the camp. The intelligence chatter updated them on recent developments.

Du-Ho and Eun Sun, Pak’s adopted son and daughter, were being held in a hut near the back of the camp. Unlike other prisoners, who were lumped fifty to a hut, the Paks were being held by themselves with special guards. But having only two prisoners in the hut didn’t make it easier for the rescue attempt; it made it more difficult. The other huts were not individually guarded. Apparently the North Koreans anticipated trouble securing Pak’s children.

It had been confirmed that a coded message had been passed to Du-Ho and Eun Sun. They had not been told what night it would happen, because if that information had fallen into the wrong hands it would have been disastrous. But the two would know that a rescue attempt was being made and that they would have to be ready.

When Robie, Reel, and Sook drew close to the camp they dismounted from their scooters and hid them in a patch of trees. Sook changed his clothes, wiped off his face, and hoisted an old duffel bag over his shoulder. Now he looked like a typical North Korean peasant. He took to the road while Robie and Reel paralleled his movements through the trees.

The outer perimeter patrol of Bukchang lay dead ahead.

As Sook walked along three guards approached him. They told him to stop and identify himself. He did so, telling them that he was traveling east to Hamhung to see his family and take a job there he had been promised. He gave them his paperwork, which had been expertly prepared.

While two of them searched his duffel the lead guard examined the paperwork. He finally handed it back.

“You are near Bukchang camp.” He pointed to the north. “You must head that way. There is a road that will take you around the camp and then you can head east.” He suddenly eyed Sook suspiciously. “What sort of job are you going to do in Hamhung?”

“Farming.”

“Let me see your hands.”

Sook held them up. They were roughened and callused. He had spent a week making them so.

The guard nodded. “Then go work your ox and smell your horse shit,” he said, and the other guards laughed.

They stopped laughing when three rounds from suppressed weapons entered their bodies, dropping them where they stood.

Robie and Reel emerged from the woods and dragged the bodies into the cover of the trees. Robie slipped off one of the guards’ walkie-talkies and handed it to Sook so he could listen in on local communications.

They moved on and soon reached the rear outer fence of the camp. They had been given the patrol times of the guards and waited for four of them to pass by before moving closer to the fence. They knew it was electrified and had come prepared for that. Using a laser, Reel cut through enough strands to allow a good-sized hole that each of them could slip through.

Sook went first, followed by Reel and then Robie. The hut they wanted was at the very back of the camp. As they crept forward

they saw a burst of light and then realized it was a guard lighting a cigarette. Reel and Robie circled the hut, counting off the number of guards surrounding it.

Four. Like the intel had said.