Colonel.
'That's the unit guarding the eastern perimeter of the Nodong site,' Squires said. 'There are only supposed to be five of them.'
Rodgers peered out. The hill sloped down sharply ahead, a rocky area of about a half mile to the ledge where the soldiers were sitting. Except for some large boulders, there was nothing to use as cover. On the ledge at the base of the hill were two mobile antiaircraft guns, the clips of two thousand rounds each stacked neatly to the left of each gun. Beyond them, in the valley below, the rising sun revealed the Nodongs beneath their foliage-covered canopies.
'Looks like we go in two-by-two,' Squires said. 'Moore, go back and tell the men to pair off. You and Puckett'll go first. You'll go to that gumdrop-shaped rock sixty-odd yards down on the left. See it?'
'Yes, sir.'
'After that, you cut right and down to the cluster on the right. You feel your way after that, and we'll all follow. When we're as low down as we're gonna get, the General and me will open fire from the back and give the enemy a chance to surrender. They won't, and when they come up after us we close in from the sides. I'll brief each pair as they come down.'
Moore saluted, then went back up the hill to collect the Sergeant.
Rodgers continued to study the terrain. 'What if the men down there do decide to surrender?'
'We disarm them and leave five of our men behind. But they won't.'
'You're probably right,' said Rodgers. 'They'll fight. And when the soldiers at the missiles hear the gunshots, they'll pull men off the other stations and send them after us.'
'We'll be out of here by then. I'll keep the men in pairs to spread the enemy out, pick 'em off as we can. We'll rendezvous at the command tent below and figure out a way to shut those birds down. I just hope they don't fly them prematurely.'
Hood borrowed the glasses and looked down at the command tent.' You know, something's not right down there.'
'Like what?'
'There's no one coming and going from the command tent, including the commander.'
'Everything's set. Maybe he's having breakfast.'
'I don't know. Hood said that two men flew into the North off that ferry. If this is a conspiracy against the DPRK, the commander wouldn't have just let them mosey in, take over, and retarget the missiles.'
'Orders can be forged.'
'Not here. They work on a double-check system. If the commander gets new orders, he radios Pyongyang for confirmation.'
'Maybe they've got someone on the inside up there.'
'Then why send two men here? Why not just change the orders from headquarters?'
Squires nodded as Moore and Puckett arrived. 'I see your point.'
Rodgers continued to study the command tent. It was still, the flap shut. 'Charlie, I've got a feeling about this— would you let me take two men and go down there?'
'And do what?'
'I'd like to get down there and give a listen, see if whoever's in charge is the person who's supposed to be in charge.'
Squires shook his head. 'You'll be eating up the clock, sir. It'll take you at least an hour to pick your way down there.'
'I know, and it's your call. But we're facing twice the number of troops we were expecting, and there's going to be a lot of shooting without any guarantees.'
Squires sucked on his upper lip. 'I always wanted the chance to tell a general 'no,' and now that I've got it— I won't. Okay. Good luck down there, sir.'
'Thanks. I'll contact you by field phone when I can.'
Rodgers and Moore took a moment to chart a course the three of them could use to go around the artillery emplacements, while Puckett took off his radio backpack and left the unit with Squires.
'Oh, and Charlie,' Rodgers said before leaving, 'don't radio Op-Center unless something happens. You know how Hood gets about some of my schemes.'
'I do, sir, yes.' Squires smiled. 'Like a terrier at a rib roast.'
'You got it,' Rodgers said.
With the sun high above the horizon and throwing long shadows behind the boulders, the three men started off.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE
The first shot hit Gregory Donald's left leg and brought him down, while the second rifle shot hit the top of his right shoulder as he fell, boring diagonally through his torso. As soon as he hit the ground he was pushing with his left arm, trying to get up. When that proved impossible, he began clawing with his hand, trying to pull himself ahead. The knife tumbled from his dead right hand as he scratched forward, inches at a time.
The soldiers came running over.
'Air?' Donald gasped in Korean. 'Air?'
Donald stopped moving, fell on his side. He felt a slight burning sensation in his left leg, waves of pain that ended at his waist. Above that, he felt nothing.
He knew he'd been shot, but that was in the back of his mind. He tried to crane his head around, tried to lift his arm to point.
'The air con? condi—' he said, then realized that he was probably wasting whatever breath remained. No one was listening. Or maybe he wasn't talking loud enough.
A medic came rushing over. He knelt by Donald's side, examined his throat to make sure it was clear, then checked his pulse and examined his eyes.
Donald looked up into the man's bespectacled face. 'The barracks,' he said. 'Listen to me? air-conditioning —'
'Rest,' the medic said. He threw open Donald's jacket and unbuttoned his shirt. He used gauze to wipe away the blood and made a cursory examination of the entrance wound in the shoulder and the exit wound to the left of the naval.
Donald managed to get his left elbow under him and tried to rise.
'Keep still!' the medic snapped.
'You don't? see! Poison? gas? the barracks?'
The medic stopped, regarded Donald curiously. 'Air? con? dition?'
'The air conditioners? Someone is trying to poison the men in the barracks?' Understanding and sadness crossed the medic's features simultaneously. 'You were trying to stop them?'
Donald nodded weakly, then fell back, struggling for breath. The medic relayed the information to the soldiers standing around him, then resumed working on his patient.
'You poor man,' the doctor said. 'I'm sorry. So very sorry.'
Behind him, Donald could hear shouts, men running in the direction of the barracks. He tried to speak. 'What??'
'What's happening?' the medic asked an aide.
'The soldiers are leaving the barracks, sir.'
'Do you hear?' the doctor asked Donald.
Donald heard but couldn't move his head. He blinked slowly, looked past the medic at the bluing sky.
'Don't let go,' the doctor said as he called for a stretcher. 'I'm going to get you to the hospital.'
Donald's chest was barely moving.
'What's happening now?' the medic asked as he straddled Donald's chest.
