The massive Suitland Federal Center, located in suburban
Maryland just eight miles southeast of the Pentagon,
sprawled across 226 acres of grass, well-manicured
shrubbery, and brick-and-mortar federal office buildings.
Reachable by subway off the Washington Metro's
Green Line, yet unknown to most Americans, the center is
home to several federal agencies, the most recognizable
being the United States Census Bureau.
From the
Pentagon, the ride to Suitland by car was scenic, even on a
barren mid-November day. Crossing the Potomac River, the
government-issued Ford Taurus passed by the Jefferson
Memorial and the Tidal Basin, the reflections in the pools
and basins of Washington's great monuments a reminder of
the great force for freedom that America had been, still
is, and, hopefully, will remain.
But in a few
short minutes, the images of grandeur disappeared as the
Taurus left behind the glamorous buildings of government and
drove into the crime-infested southeast sector of the city,
past the Washington Navy Yard to the right and slumlord
government housing to the left.
In the front
passenger seat, Lieutenant Commander Gunner McCormick,
United States Navy, checked his watch. They had departed the
Pentagon thirty minutes after the end of rush hour, with
plenty of time to spare, unless one of those notoriously
inconvenient Washington-area fender benders paralyzed
traffic.
"We've got a few minutes, sir," said
the senior chief petty officer driving the Taurus. "Be
happy to stop and buy you a coffee."
"Sounds
great, Senior Chief," the commander said. "I could use the
caffeine. Come to think of it, I could use a smoke." He
checked his watch again. "But I'd rather be early than take
any chances. How about on the way back I buy you a coffee
or, better yet, maybe something a little more substantial."
"That'll work," the senior chief said, sporting
a sly grin as the Taurus rolled east across the
Pennsylvania Avenue bridge spanning the Anacostia River.
Not much was said for the rest of the trip as
the commander gathered his thoughts. Three days ago, they
plucked him off his ship in the Pacific, flew him to
Hawaii, then to San Diego, and then to the Pentagon for one
day. And now they were driving him over to Suitland, to the
Office of Naval Intelligence, for a top-secret meeting
about a top-secret subject. He still had no clue why he had
been called.
His boss at sea, Rear Admiral
James S. Hampton Jr., had not been too happy about it. But
then, Admiral Hampton had not been happy about much lately.
Gunner thought the admiral had been on his case over just
about anything and everything. He had no idea what was
bothering him. Who knew? He'd learned long ago that in the
Navy, you don't second-guess the orders of your superiors.
Half those orders never made sense anyway. And you don't
try to read officers' minds. Flag officers, especially,
could change their minds as quickly as the wind shifts
directions. So what was the point?
They crossed
the Maryland state line into Prince George's County. They
made a right and then a left on Branch and Alabama Avenues,
then stayed to the right for the final stretch along
Suitland Road Southeast. As they approached Gate 1, the
driver slowed down, then turned in. After presenting their
credentials, they drove onto the grounds of Suitland
Federal Center. The road dead-ended at Swan Road, the main
corridor within the center. Most of the signs pointed to
the left, toward the buildings of the giant US Census
Bureau. But the senior chief clicked on the right-turn
signal and made a sharp right turn.
A moment
later, they reached Gate 9, with its armed Marine Corps
guards. A Marine staff sergeant snapped to attention and
shot a sharp salute.
"Good morning, sir," the
sergeant said. "May I help you?"
"I've got a
meeting with the admiral at ONI," Gunner said, referring to
the Office of Naval Intelligence.
"Aye, aye,
sir," the sergeant said. "Your identification and orders,
please."
"Senior Chief," the commander said,
"show the sergeant our papers."
"Aye, sir."
The senior chief passed the orders out the window.
The sergeant studied the papers, then passed them back.
He shot another perfectly stiff salute with precision-like
bearing. "You may proceed through the gate. ONI is in the
building straight ahead. The duty officer is awaiting your
arrival, Commander, and will escort you to the admiral's
spaces."
"Thank you, Sergeant," Gunner replied,
and the Taurus rolled through Gate 9 past two other Marine
guards and parked near the National Maritime Intelligence
Center building.
Gunner stepped through the
double doors into the marble-floored foyer. Flanking the
entryway to the left was the flag of the United States. To
the right was the US Navy flag.
"Lieutenant
Commander McCormick?" A Navy lieutenant smiled and extended
her hand. The gold cord hanging from her left epaulette
designated her as an aide to an admiral.
"That's me. My friends call me Gunner."
"Yes,
I've heard." Hers was a dimple-accentuated smile. "I'm
Lieutenant Mary Jefferies."
"You're the
admiral's aide?"
"That's right."
"Nice to meet you, Lieutenant." He released her handshake.
"You too, Commander. I'll take you up to the
conference room on the sixth deck. We have some background
information for you to read. Then the admiral and I will
brief you."
"Excellent," Gunner said and
followed her onto the elevator. "But you can call me Gunner
if you'd like."
Lieutenant Jefferies punched a
button and the elevator lifted quickly to the sixth
floor—the sixth deck—where the doors parted and Jefferies
stepped into the hallway just ahead of Gunner.
"Right this way," Jefferies said, holding her hand out to
the left. They walked down to the end of the long hallway.
Jefferies stopped in front of a door, punched a combination
lock, and pushed open the door to a windowless rectangular
conference room, complete with table and chairs. In the
middle of the long table was an 8-by-10-inch envelope with
the words TOP SECRET in red.
"In the envelope
you'll find your orders, Commander, along with general
background on the political and military situation
surrounding your next assignment. I'll leave you here to go
over the material. I'll be back in a few minutes to let you
know when the admiral will be ready."
"Excellent," he said, "but you can call me Gunner."
Jefferies beamed at him. "Very persistent, I see. Just
like your dossier says."
"You've read my
dossier?"
"Would you expect otherwise?"
"I think you're bluffing, Lieutenant. You don't
have an actual dossier on me."
"Oh, I'm
bluffing, am I?" She raised one eyebrow.
"So
just what about me have you read?"
"Hmm. Let's
see what I can recall. Graduated from Virginia Tech.
Four-year backup quarterback on the football team, but
didn't play much. You got to carry a clipboard and wear a
headset and send in plays to the starter."
"Ooh, that hurt."
"Did it now?" She smiled at
him. "You got tired of not seeing any action, so you joined
the Navy."
"I just want you to know I'm in
better shape now than I was when I played on the football
team. We had a wimpy strength-and-conditioning coach. The
guy didn't know how to teach power lifting. An hour a day on
weights now does more than two hours in the gym back then."
"Okay. Let's see. You attended Officer
Candidate School in Newport, and after OCS, you got picked
up for intel, where you finished, unimpressively I might
add, in the middle of your class at Dam Neck."
"Unimpressively? Hey, I was a football jock! At least I
passed."
"Then you got yourself assigned to a
Cruiser Destroyer Group, where you met your surface warfare
obligations. Again bored, you got out of the Navy. Took a
high-paying job as a commodities analyst in New York. But
then you got bored with that too."
"What can I
say?" Gunner quipped. "I get bored easily."
"Yes, of course you do. This time you tried something a
little less boring. You returned to active duty from the
reserves and volunteered as an intel officer attached to a
SEAL unit in Afghanistan."
Gunner shrugged. "I
flipped on the TV one morning and saw the commercial that
said, 'The Navy—it's not just a job. It's an adventure.'
Guess I missed that the first time."
"You
certainly made it an adventure the second time, Commander.
Let's see. What did it say? While attached to the SEALs, you
jumped in a hole, grabbed a live grenade tossed in by the
enemy, and tossed it out half a second before it exploded,
saving the life of the injured Marine waiting to be
medevaced out. You were cited for heroism and bravery and
awarded the Navy Cross."
"You're embarrassing
me, Lieutenant. Why do you bring this up?"
"You're the one who said I hadn't read your dossier. Just
proving I did my homework."
"I would expect
nothing less."
"Well, then, I'm sure you know
the admiral will expect you to have these papers read prior
to your meeting."
"That your way of telling me
to shut up and get to work?" He chuckled.
"That
is correct," she said. She opened the door to step out, then
turned back. "I hope you will find a suitable level of
excitement there."
"You did nail me."
She tried suppressing a smile but failed. "I'll see you
in a few minutes, sir." She stepped out of the room and the
door closed behind her.
Gunner sat down. Time
to get to work. He opened the envelope and spread its
contents on the table.
Date: November 17
From: Deputy Chief of Naval Operations for
Information Dominance (N2/N6) and Director of Naval
Intelligence (DNI)
To: LCDR Christianson
Pendleton McCormick, USN, Staff Intelligence Officer,
Carrier Strike Group Ten
Subj: Initial
Intelligence Briefing Carrier Strike Group Ten Yellow Sea
Deployment
Classification: TOP SECRET
1. Due to increasing hostilities on the Korean
Peninsula, the Republic of Korea has requested joint
naval exercises with the United States Navy in the
Yellow Sea as a show of unity, solidarity, and force
between the US and the ROK to deter possible aggression from
North Korea.
2. The National Command
Authority has ordered Carrier Strike Group Ten (USS
Harry S. Truman Battle Group) into the Yellow Sea to conduct
joint naval exercises with the ROK Navy. Commander
Strike Group Ten shall be informed of these orders
imminently.
3. As senior intelligence officer
for the Strike Group, the purpose of this communiqué
is to brief you on (a) the historical and political
situation of the conflict as relevant to the Strike Group's
mission; (b) the positioning of North Korean shore
batteries that may pose a threat to the Strike Group;
and (c) the positioning of North Korean naval and air
forces that are a potential threat to United States
naval forces.
4. A summary of the historical
and political background is as follows:
KOREAN CRISIS
HISTORICAL AND POLITICAL BACKGROUND
In 1910,
Japan attacked and conquered Korea. The brutal military
occupation ended more than one thousand years of Korea's
sovereignty as a nation and was a major source of shame to
Koreans.
Thirty-five years later, Japan lost
Korea in World War II. Just as Europe was divided along the
"Iron Curtain," Korea was divided along the 38th parallel
into the American-backed Republic of Korea in the south
(ROK) and the Communist-backed Democratic People's Republic
of Korea (DPRK) in the north. The DPRK was led by a young
rebel and disciple of Joseph Stalin named Kim Il-sung.
In 1950, Kim Il-sung invaded the South to unify
the country. North Korean Communist forces rapidly drove
south, gaining control of almost the entire country before
American and United Nations forces, under General Douglas
MacArthur, executed a daring amphibious landing at Inchon,
which decapitated the Communist supply lines into the South.
After Inchon, the military pendulum swung to
the West. American forces pushed the Communists back,
driving them back into North Korea—their goal to obliterate
the dictatorial regime in Pyongyang. But the surprise entry
of overwhelming Communist Chinese forces secretly crossing
the border into North Korea changed the dynamic of the war.
The US and Korean forces that had advanced north toward the
Yalu River border with China on the western side of the
peninsula were driven back by the surprise entry of Chinese
soldiers, who had crossed secretly into Korea. On the
eastern side of the peninsula, Chinese forces attacked the
First Marine Division commanded by Major General O. P.
Smith near the Chosin Reservoir on their push north.
Surprised and surrounded by Chinese forces outnumbering it
eight-toone, the division, fighting in subzero conditions,
rallied around General Smith and battled through Chinese
fortifications, inflicting mortal damage to the enemy
before returning south. Many have said that the Battle of
Chosin Reservoir was the Marines' finest hour.
In 1953, after three years of fighting, Korea remained
divided in almost exactly the same place it had been
divided before the war began.
The 38th
parallel.
The armistice kept the two heavily
armed warring armies separated, 2,500 yards apart, by a
no-man's land now known as the "Demilitarized Zone," the
DMZ.
As many as four million people died in the
Korean War, which had some of the most brutal warfare the
world has ever known. The US dropped nearly one million
gallons of napalm on North Korea. Eighteen of twenty-two
major cities in the North were at least half obliterated.
While most people think the war ended almost
sixty years ago, there never was a peace treaty. More than
21,000 days later, the long cease-fire continues.
North Korea remains the most oppressive regime on the
planet. Although intelligence is somewhat sketchy, best
evidence from eyewitness reports suggests that North Korea
maintains several dozen forced-labor prison camps, reserved
primarily for political dissidents who dare to challenge
the regime. These camps have been used over the years to
dissuade political opposition.
Even to this
day, rumors have circulated and circumstantial evidence
from the North has suggested that North Korea may be holding
a few elderly American prisoners never returned from the
war.
"What?" Gunner mumbled aloud. He rubbed
his eyes and reread the last paragraph.
Even to this day, rumors have circulated and circumstantial
evidence from the North has suggested that North Korea
may be holding a few elderly American prisoners never
returned from the war.
"I can't believe this."
He looked back at the communiqué.
Due to the
highly sensitive political nature surrounding enforcement
of the tenuous nature of the armistice, the US has been
unable to confirm or deny the validity of such rumors.
"What the heck is that supposed to mean ...
'Unable to confirm or deny'?"
A knock on the
door. Gunner heard someone working the combination lock,
then the door opened. Lieutenant Jefferies was standing
alone in the passageway. "The admiral is ready for you now,
Commander. If you will come with me, please."
Gunner stood, grabbed the folder, and joined Lieutenant
Jefferies out in the hall. His briefing with the admiral
would be interesting. But he knew that nothing the admiral
could say would erase the idea growing in his mind.
American Marines could be alive in North Korea.
And he intended to find them and bring them home.
Chapter Two Kim Yong-nam Military Prison Camp
Keith knelt on the concrete floor, leaned over the
cot, and laid his hand on his friend's forehead. The skin
was hot, dry. Over the last few days, Robert's hacking
cough had grown worse. His lungs sounded full of phlegm
that he couldn't cough out.
"That you, Keith?"
More coughing. More wheezing. "Mama? Mama? You there?"
"He's delirious," Frank said. He was sitting on
a bunk across the aisle.
"It's the fever
talking," Keith said. "He's on fire. If we don't get his
temp down, it's over." He lifted Robert's wrist and felt for
a pulse. "His pulse is firing like a machine gun."
For Keith, the thought of losing Robert triggered a
flash of memories —memories of bygone days when they were
young, strong, and idealistic.
Robert was a
Marine. And in his younger days, he was a Marine's Marine.
It happened in November 1950 at a place called
Chosin Reservoir near the border between Korea and China.
The First Marine Division was pinned down, surrounded by
overwhelming Chinese forces. Their situation was hopeless.
But Brigadier General O. P. Smith, the commander of the
division, had rallied the leathernecks with a jolting war
cry: "Retreat, hell! We're not retreating! We're just
advancing in a different direction!"