ODA 1211, A Co, 2nd Btn, 1st Special Forces Group
Captain Peters was still combing over the intelligence that General Pak had turned over to the CIA. It was stunning in its scope. Trying to digest it all was difficult.
Park, the CIA operative, had been heads down with the Army Captain for almost twelve hours straight.
Peters shook his head. “There’s no way around it. The South has completely underestimated the depth of fixed defenses across the DMZ. Look here, there are anti-tank mines a full two miles back. These are under a GOD DAMNED FARM!! Who does that?”
Park rubbed his face with his hand. He had been in-country for weeks and the strain was beginning to show on him. “I think you’re right. I hate to burn my only bolt-hole but I need to get this out. No matter what.”
“Yeah, I don’t see any other option. If you can get out, we can direct the armored assault along here and use Pak’s codes to upset the defenders. Any other frontal assault gets turned into hamburger.”
“How long do we have?”
Peters looked at his wrist, but the Rolex wasn’t there anymore. “What time is it?”
“About 20 hundred.”
“So, we are H minus 30.”
“Fuck. OK. I’m outta here.”
“And the General?”
“On the move. I can’t take that route, it’s designed for him and his family. I’ll have to do it the hard way.”
“Across the wire, or by sea?”
“By sea. It’s safer.”
“Safe being a relative term.”
“Says the man who plans to march down to the DMZ at night.”
“Right.”
“Good luck.”
“Same to you.”
After Park had left the barn where the team had been cooped up for almost a week, Peters gestured to Smith to gather the team together.
“Rally around gents. This is where we earn our pay. It’s going to be a tough one.”
As the rest of the A-Team gathered around the table, Peters laid out the best maps they had from the DPRK General.
“As you all know, we’ve gotten some killer intel from our friend the General which I believe is highly credible. Unfortunately, it tells a really shitty story for our friends with the steel underpants.” There was a mild chuckle at the weak joke. “Here’s the deal. We need to ruck down about twenty clicks to here.” He pointed to spot on the map marked with Korean writing. “We get into this backup command bunker, take out the locals and then issue the abort codes to this sector here.” His hand swept south, indicating the area around Kaeson. “We get the armor rolling in the right direction and wait for the cavalry to arrive. Literally in this case.” That brought an outright chuckle.
Smith examined the map, checking for contours, roads and other things that would help or hurt. “No worries getting down there tonight. We find a nice quiet spot to lay up during the day then move down after dark and take the command post. Shit, for a moment there I thought this would be tough. Mebbe we just steal a truck and ride?”
“No, at some point the wing wipers will start targeting anything that moves on wheels or tracks. Safer to walk small.”
“Roger that.”
“Pop smoke, we move out in ten.”
