Ashes from Last Hell: The Triple Breakout

By Walter Jung

A high profile official attached to North Korean UN office, Han determines his defection to South Korea, his late fathers deathbed wish. He informs Rha, the South Korean intelligent agent, that he would bring with him his countrys top WMD information. In return, he requests that his son and his mother would come together, but not his wife. Rha and his agency consider the bargain worthy and critical for the national security. Thus the triple breakout operation is conceived. His mother, a Pyongyang resident, has to be brought to the coastal city for her sea-route evacuation. His son, a student at Almaty, Kazakhstan, has to be led through perilous Central Asian plain chased by the local police. And Han has to be plucked out from his apartment that is locked out for security. The triple breakout is to take place in three different continents simultaneously and in seamless coordination

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 30, 2013
• ISBN: 9781493151318

Walter Jung

Born and raised in Korea, Walter Jung earned his masters and doctoral degrees in the United States. He taught geography classes at a public university for over twenty years. After serving as a children’s advocate and a volunteer for the US Peace Corps in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia, he has resumed teaching as a professor emeritus. He lives with his wife, Young, in a quiet corner of the Great Plains. His joy and pride, Spence and Blake, his grandchildren, live nearby.

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Copyright © 2014 by Walter Jung.

Library of Congress Control Number:     2013922322

ISBN:                  Hardcover                        978-1-4931-5130-1

                            Softcover                          978-1-4931-5129-5

                            eBook                               978-1-4931-5131-8

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Rev. date: 02/24/2014

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Ashes From Last Hell

Chapter One

It took a while, but as usual, I slowly got used to the ear-numbing noise the cruising 747 ceaselessly breathed out. Within an hour after leaving Inchon, professionally dressed attendants had served the first in-flight dinner in military precision and assembly-line efficiency. Then there was little to do; in-flight movie was yet to be on. Those experienced passengers quietly prepared themselves for a long forced nap, a popular distraction in surviving the wearisome boredom of a cross-Pacific flight. In the cabin, there remained few signs of innocent excitement anymore, not to mention the anxiety of flying!

In their look, the passengers of Korean Air flight 127 were quite cosmopolitan: assortments of Koreans, Chinese, Mongolians, more than several groups of Southeast Asian origins, and of course, a number of pale faces. Nevertheless, the majority were Korean nationals reflecting the fact the airline served as the de facto national carrier. In fact, the majority of the Incheon-LA passengers were sons and daughters of country farmers for whom even visiting Seoul, the nation’s capital, should have been a rare luxury, even just a few decades ago. While Japan might have been known as a faraway place for them, America was nearly beyond their imagination, even in their wildest dreams. But here those country folks’ sons and daughters were made passengers of a jumbo jet, flying to the Beautiful Country as the United States is known in Korea. Although they had been the latecomers to the modern air travel, they looked perfectly content with the chilling realities: the plane was cruising at almost the speed of one thousand kilometers per hour at the altitude of ten kilometers! For them, the present-day dinosaur, made of special steel and cutting-edge computer chips, was no longer the object of open admiration, as they were rapidly accumulating the lofty reputation of being the world’s most active air travelers.

As generally regarded, most accept alcohol’s reputation of reasonably fair and honest commodity: the more you drink it, the more influence you would be under. But in reality, it tends to discriminate certain drinkers. The plain proof was I who already had consumed three glasses of wine with a single hope that they would serve as effective sleeping pills. As usual, the wine chose not to cooperate with me: either my brain part in charge of sleeping was heavily defended from alcohol intruders or the wine was defective in some unknown way. There were many who were blessed to fall into sleep as they desired almost anywhere and anytime. Apparently, I was not one of them. Far from it! As far as I was concerned, there was a solid record: long-distance travel meant sleeplessness until I finally arrived at the destination, even if it happened to be a cross-Pacific ordeal. That trip was no exception, and I quietly accepted the suffering as a part of travel package, like a gentleman frequent traveler.

The cabin was no-vacant-seat full, attesting the Korean Air’s aggressive marketing efforts. Yet I was not in a position to complain about it for it was I who entered a voluntary agreement with the carrier to be trapped in the uncomfortable seat, all the way to the other side of the Pacific Ocean. Unlike most other passengers, however, I did have a choice to escape at least in spirit from the packed cabin to the perfectly infinite sky on the other side of the small oval window. Not always, but in some lucky occasions, the sky show—as I called it—became the most pleasant companion and entertainment I could expect during a flight.

My wish was granted shortly. First of all, the flight was in daylight hours. And for further lucky break, there was full and mischievous cooperation from the ever-mobile and thus perfectly independent-minded clouds. In happy contention, I spent a couple of hours by devotedly following the sky show that took place against the backdrop of the eternal blue sky. The ever-changing gigantic cloud sculpture show as usual did not fail to exact heartfelt awe and excitement from me: it projected immeasurably gigantic hills and mountains, bottomless valleys, and endless white cotton fields in ever-changing succession. Sometimes the projections were so highly abstractive in form that they took uniquely uninhibited imagination to get some senses, if any. Again, having watched nature’s ultimate performance, I was convinced even more than any time before that no mortal artist could even dream to imitate it no matter how audacious he might be. Indeed, it remained a mystery for me that more passengers were yet to discover this entirely free, immense, natural stage just on the other side of their windows.

With rapidly descending darkness, the sky show had disappeared. Still flying south of the Alaskan coast, the Korean Air 127 had yet to cruise six more hours to reach the LA international airport, the flight’s destination. By then, only those seemingly indefatigable attendants were busy crisscrossing the cabin, answering those infrequent call buzzers. The female attendants looked almost uniformly pretty and slender as if they were selected based on those particular qualifications. If so, I felt that the management could get my compliment. Why not? Their lovely appearance could at least boost the morale of male passengers to some extent.

It was near the year-end holidays, the sixteenth of December. Yet the fact that I had to surrender the chance to enjoy normal preholiday excitement did not particularly upset me. The truth was I gave it up willingly when I joined my current employer. In fact, I was on a job that I considered to be far more consequential than most others I could imagine. I did not mean that I was totally and completely agreeable to the self-appointed assignment, however. The source of my misgiving was the fact that my current undertaking was based on the most tentative information in spite of its explosive potential. I was about to chase the lead that was conveyed to me with minimal details. In fact, it even looked somewhat like a sky show I watched a few hours earlier: it looked like still fluid and uncertain. Even the director, known for his quick and firm decision making, was not sure on what direction we had to pursue.

In my work, my missing an opportunity to check out any lead with high impact potential and the director’s overlooking it were not even comparable. Mine might be graded as an operational failure, but his could likely become a major intelligence fiasco of national concern, even tarnishing the reputation of the Bureau of Global Intelligence (BGI) itself. Such a cold reality was behind the director’s decision to grant my almost impromptu plan.

Upon receiving the unexpected information, I had checked and rechecked the lead. One positive conclusion was that the problem was not beyond our effective intervention; rather, it showed all signs of being at an incipient stage at worst. But I had to remind myself of the fact that an intelligence operation was often like guessing the true size of an iceberg: what appears on the surface would not reveal the real dimension of its body. That was why the fear-of-the-worst syndrome was so pervasive, particularly in intelligence operations. Furthermore, the agency’s unspoken mandate was to preempt a surprise development, no matter how insignificant the issue might be. I thus hurriedly submitted my plan to check the air of the alleged scene myself.

Concerned that the director, Mr. Won Kun, was also not free from the fear of overlooking the potentially explosive lead, I recounted my objective of the short visit.

I will check out the scene and make sure that we have not missed any critical developments.

Do you need any support from NSA? Mr. Won mentioned, rather as a passing remark.

I am not certain at the moment. But I certainly will contact them if necessary.

More than anything, we must avoid any diplomatic clashes with Washington. You know what I am talking about.

I shall keep that in mind at all times.

You have my authorization for any emergency undertakings if and when on-the-spot measures are needed.

I am grateful for your confidence in me, sir. I expressed my due appreciation.

Korea Cultural Foundation’s BGI was the official ultra-secret intelligence agency. The difference, the large one at that, from other intelligence organizations was that it did not show on the nation’s administrative organization chart. In fact, there were only a handful of people, in and out of the government, who had any meaningful knowledge of the agency. Most who heard of the name would usually consider it to be some educational foundation or something similar to that. The primary reason was that from its very inception, its business had been strictly limited to international intelligence matters, operating often in foreign locations.

I hope your stay in the United States will not be so inconvenient. It was Mr. Won’s way of relaying the I am sorry comment.

I will be fine, sir. The truth is that I’d rather be there checking out than waiting in the office.

You told me that more than once, the director slightly teased me.

By the way, do you happen to have a girlfriend in the States? This time, I sensed his voice was much warmer, if mischievous.

No, sir. I don’t even deserve one.

Well, you are still young. Anyway, do have a safe trip, Mr. Rha! The director extended his large hand. I felt his hand warm and firm, as usual.

The KE127 finally approached the West Coast shortly after it served a sandwich for its last trans-Pacific meal. For me, it was enough time to plunge into a more-than-average sky show and to browse most of two monthly magazines and two daily newspapers in addition to consuming two dinners and a sandwich. Majority of the passengers were already up from their uncomfortable naps and getting ready for the landing, which was still a half hour away. The cabin attendants got busy rushing through the narrow aisles like obstacle runners.

The City of Angels, the birth place of American free spirits, particularly in fashion and motion pictures, is also famous for its accommodating marine climate along with the most inviting and clean beaches. It must be one of the best places in the country to live in, befitting its name—City of Angels—had its population been under a million, some pundit had long claimed. Unfortunately, its overflowing population seemed to have succeeded in displacing its angels, perhaps permanently. Now it is better known for its great contradictions: Hollywood’s leading fashion statements and notorious gang culture coexisted side by side. Furthermore, it was only major city in the country where Latino-led nonwhites had pushed the whites to a new minority status. Still many new immigrants from the Far East preferred to set up their new homes in LA and its environs. Perhaps they were so keenly aware that they could reach the Tokyo Bay, the mouth of Han River, and the shore of Shanghai if they just traversed the Pacific from the beaches of Southern California. Do sail west and more over the world’s largest lake till your home?

Agent Hoon was one of the elite agents of DOP’s American Command. Though there was no witness, he was often teased to be fully mature at birth. It was not a fair characterization at all, but he ended up with such a wholly undeserved reputation because of his serious nature, further reinforced by his heavy and deliberate talk. It was a small mystery how his fellow agents so conveniently overlooked the fact that he was a highly trained martial art practitioner, a seventh-degree black belter in Hapkido. Indeed, no one could mistake him for an average young man if he only took a look at his penetrating gaze and agile body. Two years my junior in military service, he joined the agency with my recommendation. Thus, it was no surprise at all that Hoon came to the airport to pick me up.

LA looked the same as I saw it three months earlier; its sky was filled with thin smog blanket, and the freeways were congested as ever. If anything, the traffic seemed even more crowded with countless models of vehicles that moved more like slow-moving waterways. Hollywood beauties and Hispanic field workers with dark beards, the two groups of drivers represented LA’s so starkly different social stratum but projecting seemly improbable but contradictory harmony. To me, they were the essence of today’s LA culture.

Tiny acreages along the freeways were full of lush green leaves and little bright flowers, of which names I had never bothered to learn. Unconsciously, my thoughts were diverted back to the streets of Seoul only some twelve hours earlier, which were completely plastered by snow, not falling but pouring down relentlessly. The streets had quickly turned into an improbable pit where drivers used every trick known to get some workable traction for his freewheeling car. Did they finally get home? They probably did; they always did, but perhaps hours after their wives were ready for their dinner. Still I reminded myself that a Korean winter was real only when exquisite aroma of boiling bean soup permeated the floor-heated living rooms while snow was falling out, making murmurs of the nature’s timid evening greetings. I felt that there was no way the people of the City of Angels could truly appreciate the Korean winter, particularly the old-fashioned winter.

You won’t be here at this time of the year unless there is some urgent agenda, right? Hoon raised a rational question with his customarily low halting voice.

I can’t say yes at the moment. But I do want to feel the air here in the States myself.

Mr. Noh is dying to know that.

I certainly can understand that. I should have alerted him in advance. By the way, how is his romance these days?

You are the only one who calls it romance. Although even that romance is not like olden days, Hoon answered with his peculiar small laugh.

If that is not romance, what do you call it? I responded with my own laugh.

It is more like a kind of periodic explosion of desperation or something like that.

Call whatever you like, but the truth is he is blessed. Don’t you see, women find him funny and attractive?

No, sir. I can’t agree with that at all. It is a major curse to tell you the truth.

Wow, a curse? Better yet a female curse? I will love that kind of curse myself.

Like Hoon, I was familiar with Noh Jemin’s so-called romance. Oftentimes we all loved to pick his not-so-infrequent female fiasco as a pleasant joke. Some other times we did slightly worry about his distraction. Although I called them romance in spite of flat objections raised by Hoon and his fellow agents, his romance was no more than his most lighthearted flirting with young ladies of no definite qualities or background. Thus, its end came quickly as soon as his wife founded that out, usually sooner rather than later. The next step that followed was the couple’s mild verbal abuses then their inevitable reconciliation ritual. Most of Noh’s agents got used to with his periodic lapses and harbored the opinion akin to Hoon’s.

How about you? Have you found a girl yet? I changed the subject and inquired about Hoon’s personal life in LA.

It is exactly the same as before, sir. In fact, I am not shopping for a girl. Also, I am certain that there is not a single Korean girl in LA without a major baggage of sorts. I still enthusiastically prefer a glorious bachelorhood over an almost certain marital disaster.

Well, I heard that argument before. Why don’t you extend your search horizon for better results?

I am fine with the way it is. After all, I am used to it, and even my folks stopped pushing me a while ago.

I can’t believe what I hear. You stopped looking for a spouse only because your folks stopped pushing? You will get married if your folks force it on you? At your age? Both of us laughed merrily and loudly.

I don’t have to rush, sir. It is you who needs a nice lady soon. You are not getting younger as you may know.

Unfortunately, you are right. But what do I have to offer? There is no such foolish lady to marry a poor divorced man. Furthermore, my job is hardly a lure to ladies. In short, I am quite hopeless, Hoon. I confessed the uncomfortable truth.

By the way, Mimi must be a big girl by now.

Indeed. Only a ninth grader, still she already looks like a little lady. She even worries about her college entrance examination, and I can’t help but feel that she is growing too fast.

The typical rush hour had vanished in LA around the late ’70s. Instead, the whole duration from dawn to late night became rush hour. Entering Freeway 5, Hoon’s Jeep involuntarily became a part of the slow-moving wave, making barely fifty miles per hour. There was no other way, however, for the entire ten-lane highway was hidden by tightly packed hordes of cars.

As I entered his office, Jemin extended his hand for mine with a huge genuine smile on his handsome face. He looked much younger than his actual age partly because of his sporty outfit—sky blue golf T-shirt and slim beige slacks.

Long time no see, brother. You just can’t learn how to age gracefully. Well, I see now why you are shopping for a young girlfriend. Jemin welcomed me with passionate embrace. As usual, his voice was full of energy and drive, demonstrating that he still lived his life fully and deeply. He and I, started the agency the same year, were close not only in business but also in person. Of course, DOP members were all quite close to each other. We had to.

You’d better speak for yourself. You look like reversing the aging process. To tell the truth, I would fall for you if I were a single girl, I responded to him in kind.

It must be true. Singles have quite different viewpoints as far as girls are concerned. Jemin gestured his surrender.

By the way, how is your dear bride?

The last time I talked to her, she was turning the house upside down to prepare a dinner for you. You are just enormously popular with girls, as usual.

If I am popular with your wife, it could be a problem, a major one! We both laughed loudly. Others in his office happily joined us. What would make you happier than getting together with a dear old friend?

How is Mimi? Jemin asked about my daughter.

She is fine. In fact, she asked me to say hello to you.

What a girl! She must be pretty grown up.

You are right about that. I might have to shop around for a son-in-law pretty soon.

You certainly will, my friend murmured softly and then turned his face toward a window. I almost instantly realized that I uttered an inexcusable blunder. His close friends had an unspoken rule: not to discuss any child-related topics in front of the couple as a way to show respect for Jemin and his wife’s no-child decision. In fact, they had refused to find out who was responsible for their inability to conceive, choosing a life of no offspring instead of probable separation.

I am so sorry, brother. I hurriedly offered my apologies, but Jemin quickly responded with his casual not-to-worry gesture.

The sky was bland and low, thanks to LA’s signature smog. I hoped for a downpour so that it would reveal the blue sky hidden behind the smog screen. I then realized that it was not just LA that suffered from worsening smog these days; Beijing, Seoul, and Tokyo were in the same boat, more or less. The eternal blue sky, nature’s by far the most bountiful and lasting gift, had become a precious luxury visible only after a rain in many urban places of the world. Jemin remained silent for a while as if he was revisiting his family decision. For the first time, I saw from his burnt-out face that he was not a young man anymore after all.

We continued our rather loose chat even after we finished the elaborate dinner Mrs. Noh prepared: mixture of Korean, Japanese, and American dishes. Although Jemin was dying to know about my sudden appearance in LA, his wife was not willing to leave us alone. Finally, he sent an unambiguous signal that we had to be alone by asking her prepare Ginseng tea for both. As soon as his wife left his small study, he gestured to me he was ready to be briefed. Of course, I knew I owed a full explanation to my subordinate, director of DOP’s American Command.

I assume there is some urgent development, Noh initiated the talk, which I was ready and willing to provide. To me, his anxiety was fully expected and justified; DOP’s standard operating procedure stipulated that a regional command assumes all operational initiatives in its jurisdiction. Even for an emergency, appropriate regional command should be consulted in advance. But I did not follow the procedure this time. It was quite natural for Jemin to be uneasy with my unscheduled year-end visit.

The boss and I had concluded it is better for the department if I have a face-to-face discussion with you first. It is about the lead NSA passed on to us, I revealed the purpose of my hasty trip.

NSA’s lead? What kind of lead? Noh quickly focused on every word I uttered like a true professional he was.

It is about suspicious activities of the North’s UN diplomats. In general, the same problem your office has followed for some time now.

I presume then that it contains something we have not covered.

That is correct. It appears that NSA has succeeded in eavesdropping them to some extent.

Hmm. Then it passed the findings on to the headquarters?

They apparently take the stuff pretty seriously. Of course, you and I know their tradition.

It is the area we have failed to cover? Noh’s voice was rather low and grim.

I knew what Noh really liked to hear. Yes. NSA suspects that it might be related to WMD.

WMD? You mean the nuclear weapons program?

That’s what I mean. But their lead is by no means conclusive at the moment. Perhaps because the plot is in its initial stage. Regardless, we feel that the ball is in our court now. Agree?

Yes, I do. It is our responsibility to figure that out, boss.

Although inconclusive and even incipient, the lead can’t be overlooked. Thus, it is my opinion that we shall feel the wind first with some spot checks. Mr. Won authorized me to take appropriate measures if needed, of course, with your consent.

I went into some depth for the spot checks I had in mind. As usual, Noh was eager to support the initiative.

The initial U.S.-Pyongyang Agreement had received wholehearted supports from the Seoul government for obvious reasons; the North’s nuclear weapons, when and if they are allowed to materialize, should zero in on the targets, not in the United States, not in Japan, but in the South. The North had neither any realistic targets out of the South nor even the remotest justification to attack targets in other countries. That meant it would arm itself with the most potent means to carry out their stereotypical threats: destroying Seoul with firestorms. Therefore, to the South, Pyongyang’s workable nuclear arsenal would pose clear and imminent life and death danger. Naturally, Seoul earnestly preferred an agreement packed with more strict and transparent enforcement provisions and less costly to itself, although it suspected the agreement to be nothing but Pyongyang’s habitual ploy to blunt the Western pressure for the time being. Most South Koreans harbored profound doubts over the North’s willingness to give up its nuclear program regardless of its public posture. They were well aware of the bare truth that to the North, its nuclear program remained the one and only viable card at its disposal on its negotiation table against the South and the United States. Seoul government’s suspicion had proved to be well grounded: the agreement had crashed in its implementation negotiations. Regardless of its intentions, to the North, it turned out to be a painful blunder for it lost an opportunity to sign an agreement with the liberal administration. More hawkish and suspicious Republican administration, which succeeded the Democrats, had casted away the agreement unceremoniously. The North richly deserved it, but for the South, it was bitter disappointment. It was another lost opportunity that convinced most South Koreans that their northern neighbor was hopelessly irrational and deplorably ignorant of the world out of its tightly sealed border.

The North’s single most sought-after item in its protracted negotiation with the United States was opening its diplomatic post in Washington, D.C., the most visible sign of its acceptance by the world’s greatest power. For that, the North was ready to reciprocate the favor to the United States: to open its own post in secretive Pyongyang. The faltered accord meant Pyongyang’s long-held desire to gain the United States’ diplomatic recognition was in vain for the time being at least. Had it been successful, the North would have used the post to its maximum advantage particularly against its archrival, the South. Nevertheless, as a consolation of a sort, it was allowed to maintain a mini liaison office, temporarily though it was, in Washington, D.C., a small but meaningful diplomatic triumph to the world’s last Leninist regime.

Naturally, Seoul had been paying its utmost attention to this embassy, the North’s make-believe invention. The previous year, Noh’s command had reported the frequent appearance of Pyongyang’s UN diplomats in D.C. In turn, I had reported the development through the BGI command channel and ordered the American Command close surveillance of the North’s office and its personnel. According to the command’s subsequent reports, Pyongyang’s diplomats observed the geographic boundary allowed by the state department. Still their number and frequency of D.C. visits had caused considerable interest in intelligence communities of both the United States and ROK. Noh’s command, based on months of close surveillance, had submitted its initial analysis: Pyongyang was in the process of turning its temporary post into its de facto embassy by stationing its UN diplomats. BGI, with great urgency, had reported it to the Minister of Foreign Affairs, which had assured BGI that it would block the ploy by persuading the state department. Nevertheless, the Foreign Affair’s assurance turned out to be nothing but a serious national embarrassment: the state department had refused revoking its permit given to Pyongyang for a temporary office in D.C., justifying the decision with its purported need to maintain low-level contacts with the Communist regime. The foggy-bottom’s policy put the South in impossible quandaries: the needs to curb the North’s challenge in the United States and to support Washington’s desire to maintain a diplomatic channel with Pyongyang. The unfortunate truth was that the both would have direct, extensive implication on Seoul’s security horizon.

As widely expected, from the very beginning, the diplomatic games two Koreas had staged in Washington were heated and sordid. The North focused its effort in penetrating the Korean community, seemingly disregarding the South’s near-overt, all-out tackles. Pyongyang’s carefully orchestrated intra-Korea diplomatic race in the United States was motivated by the fact that the Korean community had reached over two million residents, with disproportionate potential in diverse fields. It might have trailed other national communities in wealth and political influence as yet, but it had already accumulated greater resources in professional manpower; there were more than three thousand Korean college instructors in the State, enough to form one or two sizable universities all by themselves. Koreans were late in coming to the State to their neighbors, but they had succeeded in establishing a firm foundation with their typical tenacity and hard work.

Noh’s American Command had presumed Pyongyang’s seemingly naked challenge as a plot to form a pro-Pyongyang group in the United States, akin to the All Korean Federation in Japan. To that end, it had expected that the North would approach selected pro-North academics, religious figures, and community leaders in the future. Noh added his personal review that the probability of the North’s success is low and uncertain. However, he wisely recommended the bureau maintain close and long-term surveillance of the North’s office and personnel in D.C.

While we were still watching the development, NSA seemed to have reached a much grim, if tentative, conclusion. It was not the first time that James had contacted me with sensitive intelligence. In fact, two agencies had cooperated on a number of occasions, but none was as serious as the latest one.

Mr. Rha, it is our present assessment that BGI needs to place much higher priority to these people in D.C. James concluded his short briefing with the direct, strong counsel. His measured tone itself was enough warning of how seriously his agency regarded the development.

I suppose this is all you have at this time. Am I right? I pursued for more, even though it looked obvious.

That is correct. Please remember that the development is recent and currently under way. If we can be of help to you, you know well we will do that.

Thanks, James, for alerting us. By the way, does this happen to include any personal information?

For reasons I am not sure of, Fort Meade did not include that information. I am sorry for not being able to help you more.

James’s caution was short but serious enough. The fact that NSA was interested in the development was also apparent without saying. I briefed Noh of the whole report that James had conveyed to me.

NSA suspects or has some evidence that Pyongyang diplomats’ activities had ulterior motives far sinister than forming an organization not unlike the All Korean Association in Japan. It might be related to soliciting technical help for its WMD, but it couldn’t disclose any further information it may have for the reasons unspecified. We should thank it for its alerting us to move fast before too late. Have I summarized the matter right? In spite of his monotone rendering, Noh looked quite offended. Of course, I understood him; after all, it was on his turf, and he was a man of rigid professional pride.

You nailed it, Jemin! I concurred with him.

Noh nodded and quickly collected himself. I am rather disappointed by our closest friends. It could have shown some more confidence on us.

I totally agree with you. But they might have their own reasons. Perhaps they are yet to form a firm opinion themselves.

I admit they deserve to be little arrogant because its electronic warfare capability is absolutely second to none, Noh dismissively concluded. His quick submission, even halfheartedly, was a huge surprise to me. It had to be an unacceptable offense for him, a fighter by nature, to be overtaken in his own ground, even if it was by the mighty NSA.

I need to check out the wind myself. I made my intention perfectly clear and resolute. I had no doubt that Noh had his own game plan, but I believed it would be worthy for me to take a look myself.

Well, if the head of the division has made up his mind, it is my responsibility to support it with the best of my ability. Noh offered his full support with no condition attached.

Thank you, Jemin. Can you share with me your latest assessment if it is available?

"With pleasure. If NSA is successful in eavesdropping, it must be on Kim In and his men. Had we have the capability, we would certainly have followed the group. As we have reported to you already, Kim’s group has been quite active in visiting Korean communities here and there. Unfortunately, we have yet to pin down their plots, even though we are convinced that they have some sinister motive in mind. The places they have so far visited include Dallas and Chicago in addition to both coasts. There are two cities we are studying with a great deal of curiosity because they do not match with other cities they have visited. They are Kansas City and Stillwater, both located in the Midwest and have relatively small Korean communities. I recommend you to pay more attention to these cities.

Stillwater? I sought Jemin’s help for I had not heard of the place.

It is a small rural community in Oklahoma. Yet it houses a large state university.

It’s fascinating!

Yes. In fact, those visits led us to suspect that they are after something more clandestine than founding a pro-North organization. Also, that’s why we are currently focusing on the movement of Kim In, the leader of the group.

What is his position in his UN mission?

He is listed as a political counsel. But we believe it to be his official cover. After all, he is not from the foreign ministry but from the party’s organization control bureau, the real source of power for the Pyongyang regime.

Such a powerful man is leading the group?

"All the more