5.
THE RENDEZVOUS
Lee Cooper went with them to the airport to see them off. He had been there to meet them when they arrived, and had spent a lot of time with them since. Especially, when he could, with Dr. Choi Shin. So it was obvious that he would be there to see them off.
Once again, he was able to short-cut the usual system. The party arrived well after the obligatory check-in time, went quickly through passport control, immigration and baggage checks, and all the other tiresome administrative and security requirements which go into the business of getting from land-side to air-side at any airport. Eventually, they went directly on to the parked aircraft on the apron, and the North Korean scientists, after their final farewells at the foot of the aircraft steps, were the last to board the waiting plane. They had already exchanged gifts – small souvenirs of one kind or another – during their lunch earlier in the day.
Before they left, the scientists had hinted that they might prefer to travel by British Airways, or even by KLM, or Lufthansa, or SAS as far as Beijing, but their Embassy had decided that, as they had to go via Beijing and change on to an Air China flight anyway, they may as well go all the way from London by Air China.
There were no direct flights to Pyongyang from anywhere except Beijing, which is the major transport hub for entering North Korea, even by train or bus. There are a few connecting flights from Vladivostok in Russia, and Shenyang in Northern China, but nobody in their right mind changed at Beijing to make the onward flight by Air Koryo, which was the only alternative Korean operator from there into Pyongyang. Their aged Russian Tupolev and Ilyushin aircraft had a notorious safety record, especially in bad weather into Pyongyang’s Sunan International Airport, which did not even have a basic instrument landing system installed.
So it was not only safer, but also cheaper and quicker to go direct by Air China from London via Beijing– only 14 hours, or thereabouts.
That meant no more European food or French wine for the visitors.
Choi and Cooper had no chance for a last minute private conversation, either on the way to Heathrow or before they boarded the aircraft, but it was not really necessary. They understood each other.
For his part, Dr. Choi was almost convinced that he should share his secrets with the West in order to avoid a nuclear holocaust. Cooper and his colleagues in the British scientific and intelligence community, on the other hand, were equally confident that Choi would eventually be willing to pass on vital information about the North Korean and Chinese nuclear weapons programmes.
The problem for one of them was delivering it, for the other getting it.
***
Kang Soo and Park Yon, the two Special Services soldiers selected for the mission into North Korea, and had already started preparations for it. They soon realised that it could well be a one-way trip for both of them.
They were at Bourleywood House in the Cotswolds. It was used for that sort of thing, even though parts of it were open to the public. It was, after all, owned by the National Trust, so it said on the notice board outside. At least, those parts that the public could visit were.
The rest was owned and managed by the Government, and used by the Foreign Office, the Police, the armed services, and other parts of the establishment which needed somewhere secret to work. There was a language school, where you could learn anything, there was a medical facility which helped give people who needed it a new look and a new identity, an interrogation centre, were one could learn not just how to interrogate others, but also how to resist interrogation in the event of capture by, shall we say, those less civilised than ourselves, - and so on. It was that sort of place, which also operated as a safe house for those who needed safety and protection.
Kang and Park did not need new identities, although they were given a Kim Jung-un haircut, in the style of the ‘Supreme Leader’. The interrogation resistance training was not just essential, but unpleasant. They were briefed in detail about some of the techniques used by the paranoid regime they were about to enter, many of which horrified them. The skilful application of a hot iron can induce anybody to say anything.
It was obviously best not to be caught, so they were given an intensive spell of escape and evasion training away from their Hereford barracks. Not even the Welsh mountains or the harshest terrain that Scotland or Bavaria could offer would properly prepare them for the mountainous countryside of North Korea. Not that being caught by German paratroopers was in any way pleasant, even though it was only training.
So far, in spite of all the intense training, they still had no clear idea of where in North Korea they would be operating.
Neither, at that time, had anybody else to be honest.
***
The SAS intelligence team was working flat out, pouring over satellite images, maps and photographs, with their colleagues from MI6.
The problem was that Dr Choi Shin had two addresses. Not that they had either of them as it happened, but they knew he had an apartment which he shared with his nephew, within the Yongbyon nuclear research facility, which was his main base, and that he also had what he had described as ‘somewhat austere’ accommodation at the Punggye-ri nuclear test site. The two places were about as far apart as you could get. The Nuclear Scientific Research Centre which was his real home was to the south of the country, about 90km north of the capital Pyongyang, while the nuclear test site was in a desolate, mountainous region in the north east.
This posed several difficulties for those planning the operation. They had to decide where they were most likely to be able to track down the Doctor, which was the safest area for the two men to operate in, and, perhaps equally important, which was the easiest to get them to. They also had to bear in mind how easy it might be to get them out, if and when they needed to.
It was one thing getting them in to the country – there were several options in fact – but quite a different problem getting them out again. It may, indeed, prove impossible to do so, in which case Soo and Yon would be on their own, and probably for a very long time.
It was debated whether to send one soldier to each location, but eventually it was decided that their chances of success, and indeed survival, would be greater if they worked together, at least initially.
Another major factor was that they could achieve little if anything unless they were able to make contact with the existing small and, it had to be said somewhat shaky, organisation already in place. And that organisation was at its strongest the further south you went, especially near the Demilitarised Zone (DMZ) which ran along the 38th parallel border with South Korea.
So it began to look as if the shorter odds were on the more southerly site at Yongbyon, itself a small city to the north of the nuclear facilities. Wherever they ended up, they would need to get embedded into the local community as quickly as possible. Strangers wandering about would easily and quickly be spotted, with possible dire consequences. And travelling about was by no means easy. There is no freedom of movement in the country, and all citizens need special permission to leave their town of residence.
Park Yon was used to this. He had lived in the country until he defected several years ago, but Kang Soo was a native of South Korea, and had never visited the North.
Not that this put them off their assignment. They were both looking forward to a slice of action and the challenges they would face, which looked like being entirely different from their pervious missions together, mainly in Afghanistan, Iraq and Iran, but also in Indonesia.
They had completed several weeks of intensive and specialised training when a high-level meeting was held to discuss their mission and their readiness for it.
***
Jack Salisbury was still far from convinced that the mission was worth mounting at all, and said so. Geoffrey Sefton, ‘C’, looked across to General Pearson-Jones, the Head of Defence Intelligence, sitting next to Colonel Seb Owen, the men’s Commanding Officer.
“We four,” began Salisbury, “know all the background to this little – um – venture. But nobody else does, and nor should they. We will brief others when the time is right, but not before.”
He looked at the others, who nodded their agreement.
“I have to tell you that I am still not entirely convinced about the necessity for this operation, or its likely success.” He glowered at them.
“Convince me. Tell me about the men who you have chosen. Do they realise that they face almost certain death?”
“If I may say so, sir,” replied Seb Owen, “Members of my Service do so every time they go on operations. They know it, accept it, and are trained to avoid it if at all possible. Operating behind enemy lines, very often on their own and without support, is what they do. You will recall that the two men who have been specially selected are both fluent in the language, and that one of them was born and bred in the country and lived there until he defected. Escape is in itself highly dangerous. To be caught in the attempt means death by firing squad at the best. The other man is from South Korea and in my view more likely not to survive this mission than his colleague. He knows this, and accepts it.”
“Why is he at greater risk?”
“Because he is not a native of the country, because he has never been there before, because he speaks the language with a slight accent, and because of where he was born. If he is caught, he will immediately be suspected of being an American spy.”
“Does he know this?”
“Of course. Both men are fully aware of what they are going into and the sort of regime they will be living in.”
“And both men are prepared to accept the risk?”
“Mr. Salisbury, both men are eager to get on with it, and get out there. They have more than once been given the opportunity to step down, and have refused.”
Salisbury sat back in his chair and stared at the ceiling.
“I am humbled,” he said.
“How has their training gone?” asked Pearson-Jones.
“Yet to be completed,” replied Owen. “It has so far been the most arduous we could devise, based on what we know of the country within which they will be operating, and physically they have come through everything we could throw at them. They have yet to be fully briefed in detail about the country and its regime, but I see no problems arising from that.”
“Support?” Salisbury turned to the Head of MI6.
“We have made contact with our existing, rather sparse network, and they are expecting our two chaps. We have already discovered where Dr. Choi lives, at both his workplaces, and have their recommendation as to where our men should be based.”
“And how shall we get them there?”
“There are several options,” replied Sefton. “Given their background and the fact that they have all the right papers, we could put them in as tourists, as part of an organised tour. This has attractions, except for the fact that they would be allocated special Korean Government minders for the duration of their so-called ‘holiday’, and that they would have to surrender their passports for the duration of their stay. These minders would in any case need to be given the slip – in itself no problem – but that would raise the alarm. So we are considering other, less conventional means.”
“Such as?”
Seb Owen looked at Pearson-Jones.
“Tell him,” said the General.
“There are two favoured option. One is a night-time free-fall parachute drop into the area we have chosen. The problem with that is that this area, near the town of Yongbyon, is heavily fortified. The town is just north of their major Magnox nuclear reactor and research facility, where Dr Choi works for most of the time, and has at least twenty-two anti-aircraft gun batteries nearby. In the light of that, we think the best option could be to put them ashore on the coast some distance away. We believe that our existing network can help them travel to the site, which is about 100 miles north of Pyongyang.”
Jack Salisbury mopped his brow.
“And how will they be put ashore?”
“The Royal Navy has a submarine operating in the area of the Yellow Sea, with a small detachment of Commandoes on board. Our men can be parachuted to within a hundred meters or so of the boat, be picked up by the marines, and put ashore later.”
“Is all this really wise?” he queried.
“In our view, it is certainly worth the risk,” replied Sefton. “We need what Choi has to offer, and to ensure we get it, we have to continue the confidence building exercise which was started during his visit. We said we would be in touch, and that’s what we have to do now he has returned home. Get in touch.”
“My chaps know that their mission is simply to make contact with Dr. Choi and stay discretely available to him if they should be wanted. We have devised a means by which they can identify themselves, once they make contact, and then all they have to do is wait.”
“And not get caught,” added Salisbury.
“That, and getting out again, is the most difficult part of the whole operation, especially as neither of them will be armed.” said Col. Owen. “Understandably, that is the one aspect of this whole operation that my men dislike the most.”
“Not even for self-defence?”
“They can be given PPWs when they get there if they feel the need.”
“Not such a dodgy network of agents after all, then.”
“We’ll see.”
“Do your people have maps of where they are going? Detailed maps?”
Sefton reached for his briefcase. He spread maps in front of Salisbury.
“They are being shown these during their briefings, but for obvious reasons, will not take them with them. Here is the site of the nuclear research facility” – he pointed – “and here are the anti-aircraft gun emplacements. This is the town of Yongbyon, and there,” he produced another map, “is the nuclear facilities site. This is the new Magnox reactor, here the research facilities, and this” – he pointed again – “the domestic accommodation where Dr. Choi has his apartment. That is their ultimate target.”
Salisbury shook his head, sat back in his chair and stared at the ceiling, rubbing his eyes.
“Would it not be simpler and safer for one of our existing ‘agents’, as you call them, to make contact with the Doctor?” he queried.
“They would have no means of properly identifying themselves. For a complete stranger to turn up at Choi’s apartment and declare he was from the UK would immediately frighten off Choi for ever. In that country, one cannot even trust one’s relatives for fear of being betrayed,” replied ‘C’.
“So how will he recognise our two people, neither of whom he has never met?”
“I can assure you that he will. They will identify themselves in such a way that he will eventually have no doubt about who they represent.”
Salisbury sighed, and ran his fingers through his thinning hair.
“I dare not ask,” he said, “but…”.
He looked at the men before him.
“Do any of you have the slightest doubts that we can succeed?”
The Head of MI6 looked at the others.
“Given total security, we can do it, in spite of the risks,” he said.
After a pause, Salisbury said, “Get on with it then. No word of this to anyone, at whatever level, unless I specifically authorise it.”
They nodded agreement.
“When will they get there?”
“A few weeks yet. There is more to be done, and in any event, it will take Choi some time to gather the information we want, assuming he eventually decides to do so. So there is no real urgency.”
“Keep me in touch,” commanded Salisbury. “And only me,” he emphasised.
***
It was a cloudless, moonlit night when Kang Soo and Park Yon plunged into the Yellow Sea, once they had opened their parachutes after a free-fall drop of several thousand feet. They heard, but could not see, the RAF Special Services Hercules aircraft turn back towards Hong Kong, which they had left only a few hours before. The aircraft was flying the last leg of its journey without navigation lights, and with its transponder turned off. Nobody knew where it was.
Park had a location tracking beacon strapped to his wet suit. The moment he turned it on, HMS Tribune plotted his position, and surfaced. The pair was less than a mile away, and it took no time at all for the Royal Marines to get to them in their Zodiac. Immediately they were safely aboard, the submarine dived and turned away from its pick-up position.
They were greeted by the Second in Command.
“We shall stay submerged for a day or so, until we are sure your arrival has gone un-noticed,” he explained. “The Marines who picked you up will look after you, although extra bodies make it even more cramped down here. We know where to put you ashore and have already been given a provisional rendezvous date and time. You will be briefed when we have confirmation that your contacts are in place and ready for you.”
“I don’t like submarines,” complained Park. “I wish they had decided to drop us in by parachute instead of this.”
The 2 i/c glared at him.
“There are more dead aircraft at the bottom of the sea than there are dead submarines up there,” he pointed skywards. “Any questions?”
There were none.
London and Hereford received confirmation of the men’s pick-up almost at the same time. The Ops. Room at MI6 passed a message to their agent to move in to place ready to meet them. With any luck, Soo and Yon would be on dry land in North Korea within a week.
***
They eventually made landfall six days later.
HMS Tribune had made its way slowly, secretly and silently past the heavily defended port of Nampo, up the south west coast of the Korean Peninsula. Near the estuary of the Chiongchon River, on the coast to the west of Mundok, the boat surfaced for the Royal Marines to launch their Zodiac. Having swum the last mile or so in the dark, Kang Soo and Park Yon eventually waded ashore in a secluded cove, backed by sand-dunes, as their Marine colleagues headed back to sea to meet up with their parent boat, which once again submerged immediately.
The men stripped off their wet-suits and diligently buried them beneath the sand. They now looked much the same as anyone else who lived in the area, but nevertheless decided to hide until daybreak, when they could be sure that there was no search party looking for them. It also gave them a chance to survey the local surroundings, which they were able to recognise for the maps and photographs they had been shown at their briefings.
There was no immediate sign of any activity, and it began to look as if they had got ashore undetected. They slowly made their way inland to a small creek, which they were to follow until it reached a river. It was here they were to meet their guide, one of the shadowy agents who worked for London from time to time.
He was waiting for them, tending his battered cart, and they gave him money and cigarettes. The trio immediately set off together as if they had always been together. If challenged, their story was that they had been in the dunes looking for birds eggs to supplement their meagre diet. But they were not challenged, and eventually made their way further inland, across paddy fields, to a small village where the man lived.
Nobody took any notice of them. They were, after all, dressed, speaking and behaving just like everybody else. Why should anyone take any notice of them? They all had their own lives to lead, scraping together an existence as best they could in the harsh regime within which they lived. One thing they had all learnt was to trust no-one and keep their head down – that was the best way of avoiding trouble. And strangers were always trouble, anyway, mostly working for the police or the Korean Workers’ Party or some other element of the internal security apparatus that helped the dictatorship to rule by fear.
In spite of their detailed briefings, the two men were shocked and horrified by what they saw. Even Park Yon, who used to live in the country, could hardly believe how things had worsened since his defection. Plainly the majority of the population had never recovered from the Great Famine and the devastating floods which had scoured much of the land of its fertile soil.
Soo and Yon spent the night with their guide in a derelict shed on a farm, and were given a meal of rice and thin gruel, which the farmer and his family shared with them. In the morning, they were provided with two ancient bicycles, and set off heading North East, towards Yongbyon, where, with any luck, they would make contact with another ‘agent.’
But from now on, they were on their own. They estimated that it would take them about two weeks to reach Yongbyon, but it was tough going over much rough terrain, although where they could, they stuck to the river valleys and their paddy fields. They lived like the resident population, largely by their wits. What little they had to eat, they stole or dug from the fields with their bare hands. They had thought their training was tough, but their journey proved to them just how valuable it had been.
Eventually, just outside the town of Yongbyon, they reached the small village, which was to be their next rendezvous point. They could see the nuclear power station as they approached.
They were a day early.
They quickly identified the place where they were to meet their contact – a stall in a sparse street market in the village square. There was little produce on sale, although there seemed to be plenty of customers keen to buy whatever there was in an effort to enhance their diet.
The pair made no effort to hide. There was no need. They sat at a stall selling tea, and drank a thin but warm concoction, which tasted of nothing much. They said to one elderly woman who asked that they were there to visit a cousin. They even showed the woman the pass allowing them to travel from their own village where they lived. Not that she was interested. Her two ragged children took no notice either, and amused themselves chasing a mangy dog, or scavenging for food under the market stalls.
After a time, the pair trudged off into the countryside in an effort to find somewhere they could bed down for the night. They eventually settled under a bridge over a small stream, having collected a couple of duck eggs from a farm they had passed on their way. They had no means of cooking them, so ate them raw.
Returning to the village square the next morning, they soon spotted that the stall they had been told to report to was manned, whereas yesterday it had been vacant. The man had a small selection of food on offer – a few eggs, some sunflower seeds, and rice cakes, as well as a small bowl of apples.
The man watched them as they approached. There were no other customers. They asked him about the apples.
“We have no money,” admitted Soo.
“How will you pay, then?” asked the man.
“We could barter.”
The man looked around, and lent forward.
“Cigarettes from England, perhaps?”
“One packet or two?”
It was the agreed form of words to be used as identification and recognition.
The man beckoned to a thin youth who was nearby.
“Look after the stall,” the man commanded. “I have business to attend to.”
“My son. He can be trusted. You follow me, at a distance,” he told Soo and Yon, who pushed their battered bicycles to follow him as he wandered off down the filthy street. Eventually, he turned in to the yard of the farm where they had ‘found’ the eggs the previous night.
“My duck farm,” he announced, as he ushered them into the house after checking that they had not been followed.
“Very good eggs, they are, too,” confessed Soo, handing over the cigarettes and some money, in the way that they had paid the first ‘agent’ who had helped them.
“You are here as my cousins,” he announced. “Do you have all the permits and papers which allow you to travel and leave your own village?”
“Yes, we do,” said Park Yon, reaching for his torn back-pack.
“I don’t need to see them,” said the farmer. “But you must understand that if you are caught for incorrect behaviour or anything else, then me and my family are in trouble too.”
The two men nodded.
“Here is what has been arranged for you,” said the man. “One of you will stay here to work on this farm and the other will go to the accommodation block of the nuclear power station over there to work in the kitchen. Neither of you will have an easy time – it will be hard, back-breaking work with long hours. But you will be able to make contact with your ‘target’. You must arrange that. But I shall give you his address, and whoever stays here can work in the market as well, and deliver goods to the apartment where the man lives. The other can meet him in the canteen where he works. That will be up to you. So now you must choose between being a farm labourer, or sweeping the floor. You will be given dormitory accommodation and the bare basic food, but little else. Like everyone else in this country, you will live and survive by your wits alone.”
“I shall be happy to work here,” said Park Yon. “When I lived here, my family all worked in the paddy fields.”
“Agreed,” said Kang Soo. “I shall go to the power station.”
“Be very careful while you are there,” the farmer warned Soo. “It is a high security place. Trust no one. Tomorrow I shall arrange for you to meet an associate, who will be your contact while you are there, but only if you need to pass messages. He will not be able to help you if you are in trouble. He will deny knowing you.”
He turned to Yon.
“We shall also deny knowing you. Now, come with me. I shall introduce you to the foreman. He will show you the old barn some fields away where you can rest, and he will give you work instructions for tomorrow. Do not trust him. Trust no-one. If the authorities should question you or arrest you for any reason, we shall all deny ever having seen you before. You will be regarded as a tramp and a scavenger, like many in this area who have no work and nowhere to live.”
Yon and Soo shook hands, and parted company. They had a means of keeping in touch with one another, and with their UK headquarters.
***