floor, glassware was removed. An overhead fluorescent light was turned off and only the single yellow bulb remained.
There were still two people in the room. They spoke softly to each other and I turned my ear to the opening, trying to pick out voices. Commissar Oh and Hye-kyong. She seemed to be protesting something, saying no, and then the edge of the table shuddered. The entire conference table had been shifted about a foot. She kept saying no and I heard a couple of slaps, hand to face. The table lurched again. Something heavy landed atop it. Now I could just see the black boots of Commissar Oh. Hye-kyong’s brown loafers lifted a couple of inches off the ground. Her hands clung to the far edge of the conference table. He was working behind her, shoving her forward roughly at first and then in a steady, rhythmic way. Hye-kyong was still protesting, whimpering like a little girl being punished for something she didn’t do.
I stood up and stepped toward the iron hatchway. Just as my fingertips touched the cold metal, I stopped. Hye-kyong had warned me. No matter what happened, don’t enter until she told me to enter. She’d known Commissar Oh was going to do this to her. Probably it had happened before, many times, and if I entered now and punched Commissar Oh’s lights out, I’d ruin everything.
Still, it was torture standing here. Just as it had been torture watching all these poor, confused people praising the very criminals who were abusing them. I wanted to barge in there and catch the arrogant protector of the working class with his pants down and put my size-twelve boot firmly up his ass. But how many people would die-including me and Hye-kyong-if I gave in to that temptation? I stayed my hand, still gripping the metal handle of the hatchway. My fingers trembled.
I stayed like that for what seemed a long time. Finally, I squatted down, burying my face in my hands and feeling the sweat on my forehead. At length, the iron hatch squeaked open.
“Bali,” a voice said. Hurry.
I stepped inside the room. Hye-kyong pulled the hatchway shut and locked it. No sign of Commissar Oh. The conference table still sat at an angle. Hye-kyong motioned for me to help her straighten it out.
Her face was red, her clothes disheveled, and the hair that had earlier shone like a black helmet was now sticking out in sweat-matted disarray, like an exploding nova. The worst part was that she wouldn’t look at me. She kept her eyes staring firmly at the ground. Without looking up, she pointed to a wooden stand with flat panels. I pulled one of the panels out. It held a map.
“Here,” she said. “Find the location of the Red Star Brigade. Make a note of it. And then study the routes they will travel to Hamhung and up into the Kwangju Mountains. Pay particular attention to the supply points along the way. But leave the maps undisturbed. They must not know what we are planning.”
“What are we planning?”
“Never mind now. Just take down the information. Do you have paper and a pencil?”
“No.”
She pulled a small notepad and a short pencil out of her front pocket and handed them to me. “We don’t have much time,” she said. “You will have to keep your notes brief and memorize as much as you can. Can you do that?”
“I’ll try.”
“Memorization would be better,” she said. “That way, if you’re captured…” She let her voice trail off.
As I studied the maps, Hye-kyong held a candle aloft. The Red Star Brigade would be traveling the main road from Pyongyang to Hamhung. The crucial information was what military intelligence calls “the order of battle.” That was the strength and capabilities of the component units of the Red Star Brigade and the routes they would be taking once they left Hamhung and headed up into the Kwangju Mountains. I jotted down the unit designations and the names of the towns and villages along the routes. Also, most importantly, how much military equipment each unit had-tanks, artillery pieces, armored personnel carriers-and how many infantry platoons to back them up.
“Hurry,” Hye-kyong said. “The regular staff will be back soon.”
I made the list as short as possible, using symbols and numbers mainly and relying on memory tricks they’d taught me at Eighth Army. I used words from English, Spanish, and Korean to form pictures that would stick in my mind. For example, the regrouping area for the final assault on the Kwangju Mountains was the village known as Beikyang. One of the meanings of beik in Korean is white, and yang can mean goat. So I imagined a white goat with the point of a flaming red star slamming into its butt. Try to forget that.
Hye-kyong all the while had been fidgeting behind me. Finally, she said, “Do you have it?”
I nodded and handed the pencil back to her. “Why didn’t you just give the information to your father yourself?”
“I can’t leave,” she replied. “Ever. Once someone becomes a member of the Joy Brigade, we are watched constantly. It’s only you, a foreigner, who can come and go.”
“Why don’t you come with me now?” I asked. “Escape?”
“I must stay,” she said, shaking her head vehemently. “No time for all that now. Come.”
She opened the escape hatch for me, gesturing out into the dark tunnel.
“A car will be coming for you,” she whispered. “This evening. We had our man in the Romanian Embassy raise a fuss, and finally Commissar Oh has consented to let you go a few hours early. You will be picked up in less than a half hour in front of the First Corps headquarters. You must not delay for any reason. Leave as soon as you are able.”
I nodded and started to climb through the hatch. Hye-kyong grabbed my arm.
“You won’t tell anyone about what you saw?”
I touched her hand. “Don’t worry.”
“If something goes wrong,” she continued, “you must use the same tactics my father uses. Act totally unafraid. If anyone questions you in any way, become enraged. Remember, you are a foreigner. Foreigners have to be handled very carefully because your superiors might be in close contact with the men who work for the Great Leader himself. If you are insulted or become angry, who knows what kind of lightning might strike the person who opposes you? The best protection is to act completely unafraid.”
She knew her father well.
After I climbed into the tunnel, Hye-kyong slammed the escape hatch with a loud clang. Touching the wall with my left hand, I stepped carefully through the darkness. Occasionally, puffs of air from invisible wings hit my face. After climbing stone steps for what seemed a long time, I finally reached the main door. From the crack I’d left propped open for myself, a glimmer of starlight greeted me. I knelt and studied the branch. It lay flush on the floor, no longer elevated two inches off the ground. I stood, looking around in the darkness.
Someone had entered the tomb.
Were they behind me? I didn’t think so. If they were, they obviously weren’t using light. Most likely, rather than venture into the tomb, they’d backed out and were waiting for me outside. Who were they? Commissar Oh’s men? Or maybe Senior Captain Rhee Mi-sook’s fixers? Either way, I couldn’t afford to be taken now, so close to escape. Was there another way out of this tunnel? The bats and the rodents managed to survive down here; there must be another way out. In fact, there might be a network of caves connecting one ancient tomb to another, and Hye-kyong had mentioned bomb shelters. But I didn’t have time to explore. The car would be waiting outside for me. I had to get there, somehow. Barging out of this door and trying to fight my way to safety with just a wooden club wasn’t going to work. And then I had an idea.
Bats.
I knelt and carefully pulled open the door of the tomb just far enough to free the wooden branch. Hooking the crooked tree limb to the edge of the door, I slowly pulled the door open and let it swing free, backing away quickly into the darkness. By the time the door was fully open, I was crouched around a bend in the tunnel, out of sight.
I listened. Nothing. Even though a car would be waiting for me soon to transport me out of this hell, I had to force myself to be patient. Five minutes later, maybe ten, footsteps sounded on the stone walkway. Men in boots, two of them. As they cautiously entered the tomb, I backed even further into the darkness. Their footsteps seemed to speed up, as if they’d heard me.
After a few yards, I reached the darkest place, the place that smelled of musty fur, swathing myself in blackness so thick I could almost hear it breathe. A beam of light flashed around the corner. I waited a few more seconds, and then, when the men were almost on me, I lifted the wooden branch and started beating it against the roof of the tunnel. Tiny soft things pelted my arms and my legs and then the air was full of dust and fluttering and
