Red Phoenix

Leader, a North Korean Kilo-class diesel submarine.

Major General Chyong Dal-Joong — Cho’s deputy commander, later promoted to Lieutenant General and command of the II Corps.

Lieutenant Sohn — Platoon Leader, Assault Group 2, 1st Battalion, 27th Infantry Regiment.

Kim Il-Sung — General Secretary of the Korean Workers Party, President of the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea, commander in chief of the armed forces. Called the Great Leader, Kim Il- Sung is the aging and infirm absolute ruler of North Korea.

Kim Jong-Il — Called the Dear Leader, Kim Jong-Il is the son and heir apparent to Kim Il-Sung, the Great Leader.

RUSSIANS:

Colonel Sergei Ivanovitch Borodin — A Soviet MiG-29 pilot heading up a training team in North Korea.

Captain Nikolai Mikhailovitch Markov — Captain of the Soviet Tango-class submarine Konstantin Dribinov.

Andrei Ivanovich Rychagov — Member of the Soviet Politburo and defense minister.

PROLOGUE

AUGUST 19 — SOUTH OF THE DMZ NEAR HAKKOK, SOUTH KOREA

They found the North Korean tunnel shortly before dawn.

The two men — one an American intelligence officer, the other a South Korean combat engineer — stood regarding a three-inch-wide borehole as they might an ancient oracle, one that had given them good news.

Captain Marc Chadwick knelt and ran his fingertips around the edge of hole Five-A, feeling the damp, smooth rock. “Look at that pattern. Almost circular. We’re right over the bastards.”

His Korean counterpart, Captain Lee, nodded. “Almost certainly. Five-B and Five-D also indicate this location.”

Both men smiled, feeling the excitement of a long hunt now nearing the kill.

Hole Five-A didn’t look like much. Just a water-filled hole that went straight down through ten meters of solid rock. But it served as a detector for underground vibrations, like the ones made by North Korean engineers blasting tunnels under the Demilitarized Zone — the DMZ — and into South Korea. Explosive charges laid to carve out a new tunnel sent shock waves rippling through the rock — shock waves that slopped water out of the closest boreholes. Not much. Usually not more than an inch or two. But a good engineer could tell a lot from that, and Captain Lee was a good engineer.

Lee turned and looked north toward a small rise that blocked their view of the DMZ less than a kilometer away. He shook his head. The North Koreans had pushed this tunnel more than two kilometers from their side of the line before they’d been detected. It passed right under the Allied fortifications built along the DMZ, and the North Koreans could have used it to infiltrate spies and raiding parties into the South, or perhaps even for large- scale troop movements should war break out. Lee scowled. The communists were getting too good at this game for his taste.

He glanced east. The sun was coming up, spilling light over a brown, barren landscape blasted by summer heat and dry weather. The South Korean engineer mentally ran over the amount of work that would be required, pursed his lips, and said, “If I have my men start now, we should be able to break in by midday.”

The American nodded and the two men studied the borehole in silence for a moment longer before turning away back down the valley toward their waiting jeep.

Captain Lee’s estimates were, like everything else about him, precise.

Chadwick noticed the silence first. For six hours since daybreak the valley had been filled with a high-pitched, grinding whine as South Korean drills ripped their way into the ground, opening a path for the explosives that would break through into the suspected North Korean tunnel. He’d watched avidly for a time, but his interest had waned as the sun rose higher and the temperature climbed, and he’d finally retreated to a shadowed truck cab.

Now the drills had stopped. Chadwick sat up suddenly and pulled the latest issue of Stars and Stripes off his face. He stared through the windshield as combat engineers unreeled thin detonator wire from the enlarged borehole to a sheltered spot near where the trucks were parked. After a moment Lee stood and gave him a thumbs-up signal. The charges were in place and wired to go. He clambered out of the truck cab and ambled over to where Lee lay waiting with his noncoms.

The Korean grinned up at him and gestured to the plunger. “Care to try your hand?”

“Nope. You blow things up. I just take pictures of ’em. Before and after.”

Lee chuckled, motioned him to the ground, and then pushed the plunger. Borehole Five-A erupted in a fiery pillar of smoke and thrown rock debris. A muffled roar rumbled through the valley and shook the earth.

Lee and his troops were up and running toward the hole before the dust even settled. Their explosives had torn open a jagged crater, three feet across at its narrowest point. Most importantly, it did not seem to have a bottom. Shining a powerful light straight down revealed only a circle of darkness. They were in.

Lee took an old Korean War — vintage M3 submachine gun — a “grease gun” — from his sergeant and slung it across his back. He looked at Chadwick. “I’m claiming the honor of going down first. Care to accompany me?”

The sweat stains under Chadwick’s arms suddenly felt ice cold, but he shrugged and asked, “Do we get to use a rope?”

Lee grinned. “Naturally. Only Marines are forbidden to use ropes, Captain.”

“Terrific.” Chadwick checked the clip on his regulation-issue 9mm pistol. He didn’t like this commando stuff. What if the bad guys were waiting down there for the first flies to drop into their parlor? Desk jockeys like him were supposed to analyze North Korea’s tunnels, not invade them. But he couldn’t think of any graceful way to back out, and he’d be damned if he’d let Lee see that he was scared. He and the engineer had been partners now for months and they’d made a good team. Chadwick didn’t think that would stay true if he chickened out now.

He watched while Lee stepped to the edge of the hole, clipped a line onto his belt, and signaled his men to lower away. The South Korean dangled momentarily and then disappeared through the narrow opening, looking intently downward.

Moments later, Lee called up for them to stop. The end of the line came back up, and Chadwick stepped to the edge.

They lowered him slowly past the jagged sides of the hole that kept threatening to snag his battle dress and then on down into the darkness. He swallowed hard and tried to concentrate on mentally recording what he was seeing. It was the best way he knew to push away the fears his subconscious kept raising.

For the first fifteen meters the hole was nearly circular, but then the walls spread away, opening up like the lower half of an hourglass, and he was swinging in the air. Chadwick realized that the blasting must have caved in the roof of the tunnel. He looked down. Ten meters’ worth of rock littered the floor below him.

He touched down on the uncertain footing and scrambled for a moment to get his balance. Something grabbed his arm and he jumped, feeling the adrenaline rush pulsing through his system. It was Lee, steadying him.

“Jesus Christ!” he whispered. “You scared the crap out of me.”

“Sorry.”

Lee let go and stepped back, swinging his light around in an arc to cover the tunnel in front of them. They had broken through the roof near the end of the tunnel, but well over to one side. The passageway itself ran north-south and was at least thirteen meters wide, big enough for a three-lane road. Away from the area currently under construction, the floors, walls, and ceiling had all been smoothed. There were lamps mounted overhead. They weren’t lit though, and only Lee’s flashlight and the sunlight pouring down through the explosives-torn shaft provided illumination — looking much like eerie spotlights in the dusty air.

More men were swarming down the ropes now, some carrying weapons and others demolition gear. Chadwick whistled softly as he saw crate after crate of explosives being stockpiled off to the side. “How much will it