The Submarine Request
Seoul, the VIP lounge of a first-class hotel.
Outside the window, the full sweep of Namsan spread out in a crisp panorama, but Chairman Cho, who should have been enjoying the view, only sat with a deep frown and stared at the old man across from him.
“Hey, Chairman Cho. I heard you changed your blood pressure medication this time. You should be taking it easy. What are you worrying yourself sick for in your old age, huh?”
Across from him sat Kim Hyeongseok, chairman of Cheonghae Dynamics.
For Chairman Cho, he was a lifelong rival and a friend of forty years.
“If you’re going to spout nonsense, go corner your grandson and do it, you damned fool. We finally meet, and you could’ve just talked pleasantly for once. Why do you have to pick at people’s nerves all of a sudden?”
“Krrr, because needling you is the greatest pleasure of my retirement. Are your sales still at that level? Plenty of money going out, and scraps coming in?”
At Kim’s words, Chairman Cho frowned.
It was the same old routine Kim Chairman always launched into whenever he met him.
“Wouldn’t it be so much easier if you made something smart like us, missiles or radar? The operating margin would be in the double digits, nice and steady.”
“Aren’t you sick of saying that?”
“Not at all. Every time I see that face of yours like you’ve bitten into shit, I get a real thrill.”
Kim chuckled as he spoke.
Cheonghae Dynamics had been riding the Defense Ministry’s increasingly aggressive push to strengthen asymmetric capabilities, and it was doing better and better.
Everyone in the industry knew that while Hanseo Defense had the larger sales volume, the real money was going to the other side.
“In a war, are you just going to fire missiles and call it a day? In the end, the ones who plant the flag on the ground are my tracked beauties, not your one-and-done throwaway toys.”
“So what’s your operating margin, exactly?”
“Has this old bastard finally gone senile?”
“Kuh-kuk-kuk.”
Chairman Cho was shaking his head while staring at Kim’s laughter when the secretary’s chief, who had been waiting at the lounge entrance, approached.
“Chairman.”
He glanced at Kim and tried to whisper to Chairman Cho.
But Chairman Cho waved him off.
“It’s fine. Is he a stranger? Just report it.”
“Ah, yes. It’s about Malaysia, sir...”
The secretary’s chief carefully held out a document.
“Local MRO demand has been raised, so we expect additional sales.”
Kim burst out laughing when he heard that.
“Pfft! Ah, Director Kim, you’ve had a rough time of it.”
“Excuse me?”
“Not once, but twice... Are you putting on a show in front of me just to pump up Chairman Cho’s ego? That’s touching, really touching.”
Kim clicked his tongue.
Apparently, all he could see was the secretary’s tearful loyalty, trying to save his chairman’s pride.
“Just be honest. Even if it’s just a bit of grease on the gears, say you make a living off it. I’m not some outsider, am I? Why are you trying so hard to keep up appearances in front of me, kid?”
Chairman Cho stood without saying a word.
Then he calmly straightened his clothes.
“If it were any other day, I’d keep you company a little longer. But I’m afraid I have to head back first today.”
“I haven’t even finished my tea. Stay a bit longer and talk. I won’t tease you.”
“No need. I’m really busy.”
With that, Chairman Cho left the lounge, leaving Kim behind.
The moment he stepped into the corridor, the air changed.
Chairman Cho’s relaxed expression was already sharpening into something keen.
“Director Kim.”
“Yes, Chairman.”
“That wasn’t an act, was it?”
The secretary’s chief slipped a faint smile and held out his tablet PC.
“It’s a report that just came in from Malaysia. The highly likely MRO exclusive contract being discussed there is projected to bring in at least 500 billion won over the next ten years.”
Chairman Cho’s steps stopped dead.
“...How much? Not 50 billion?”
“500 billion won. Not simple maintenance, either. We’ve got depot overhaul, parts replacement, software updates, the whole thing exclusively. In other words, we’ll be holding the Malaysian military’s heart in our hands.”
Chairman Cho’s jaw dropped.
The 200 billion won from the armored vehicle sale was only a bait product.
“That was Director Baek’s work, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Krrr, as expected. The man is the real thing.”
A grin slowly spread across Chairman Cho’s face.
If it wasn’t Baek Gunwoo, there probably wasn’t anyone else who could pull off something like this.
“There’s more, Chairman. Just moments ago, we received an LOI from the Philippine Ministry of Defense.”
“The Philippines? That wasn’t even one of our targets. Why now?”
“When we produce the KAAV-II units for Malaysia, they want us to add a hundred of their own.”
“Huh...”
Chairman Cho let out a hollow laugh.
“This thing is going to wrap up all of Southeast Asia in one gulp. I thought he was only good with machines, but Director Baek has a salesman’s streak in him too, and it’s no joke.”
“What would you like to do?”
“What do you mean, what? We need to convene the executive meeting immediately. And when Director Baek gets back, we’ll get him appointed executive director at once. At this point, nobody will have a complaint about promoting him to the executive ranks. Right?”
“Of course.”
Chairman Cho’s mouth nearly reached his ears.
The pride Kim Chairman had needled at the lounge was repaired so quickly it was practically about to explode.
Just as he was about to walk out of the hotel’s revolving door in high spirits, a buzz sounded from the secretary chief’s pocket.
“One moment, Chairman. It seems important.”
When he checked the caller, the secretary chief’s eyes widened.
[Director Park Jincheol, Agency for Defense Development (ADD)]
He was the man in charge of the only institution capable of making Hanseo Defense, one of the country’s largest conglomerates, move like a subcontractor.
The secretary chief took a steadying breath and answered.
“Yes, Director. Good afternoon.”
The voice on the other end wasn’t audible.
But Chairman Cho could see it.
The color draining from the secretary chief’s face.
He opened and closed his mouth like someone who’d seen a ghost in broad daylight.
“Is that... really so? Ah... yes. Understood. I’ll report to the Chairman right away.”
The call ended.
The secretary chief stared blankly into space.
“What is it? Did ADD cause trouble again?”
At Chairman Cho’s push, the secretary chief slowly turned his head.
“Chairman.”
“Spit it out. Don’t drag it out.”
“They’re considering scrapping the entire domestic design for the next-generation amphibious assault vehicle...”
The secretary chief swallowed hard.
“And adopting Director Baek’s export design as the standard for the Republic of Korea.”
“...What?”
Chairman Cho’s brain seemed to freeze for a moment.
“The ADD researchers saw Director Baek’s performance on-site and made a strong request back home. They said if Southeast Asia is going to use Baek Gunwoo’s titanium-and-hybrid spec, then our military insisting on a separate proprietary standard would be a serious loss.”
At that, Chairman Cho closed his eyes for a moment.
It was the most pleasant thing he had heard in a long time.
In his head, the production cost of the KAAV-II was dropping, and with it, the margin was running wild in his calculations.
Titanium materials?
The hybrid battery tied to the diesel engine?
On paper, the price tag had to be significant, but if this wasn’t just a Republic of Korea-only procurement and Malaysia was already in, with the Philippines now joining as well, the unit cost would definitely come down.
What’s more, Chairman Cho could read between the lines of what ADD’s director had just conveyed through the secretary chief.
Southeast Asia was going to use Baek Gunwoo’s standard.
That meant not just Malaysia and the Philippines, but countries like Thailand, Vietnam, and Indonesia might also be very likely to adopt the KAAV-II.
At the very least, that was how ADD and the Korean government were judging it.
“Excellent. Excellent.”
“There’s one more thing to report.”
“Something besides the KAAV-II?”
“Yes, Chairman. The matter is...”
The secretary chief continued.
At first, Chairman Cho only laughed in satisfaction. Then he closed his eyes again.
After standing still like that for a moment, he opened them.
“Director Kim.”
“Yes, Chairman.”
“Launch the private jet right now. Bring Director Baek back. And get everything ready to appoint him executive director, too.”
Chairman Cho said it with an utterly satisfied expression and climbed into the waiting vehicle with the secretary chief.
Then, just after they started off.
“...Hm. Looks like something really is going on.”
Kim Chairman, who came out behind them, muttered when he saw Chairman Cho’s face.
In his mind, the Malaysia MRO demand the secretary chief had mentioned earlier, as well as the information about a man named Baek Gunwoo who had been making waves at Hanseo Defense lately, rose to the surface.
“Director Choi.”
“Yes, Chairman.”
“Find out what’s going on. Why did that old bastard suddenly get so happy?”
“Understood.”
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Malaysian Sungai Besi Base, temporary operations room.
“Just a moment. This isn’t possible right now.”
The Malaysian military officer blocked the way with a firm stance.
In front of him stood defense attachés from Vietnam, the Philippines, and Thailand, each wearing troubled expressions.
“Come on, Captain. We’ve got reports to write too. Just ten minutes, no, five minutes of questions. That’s all I’m asking.”
“I’m sorry. It’s an order from the procurement commander. Director Baek is currently in a security meeting regarding our next force modernization project. No contact is allowed until the meeting is completely over.”
It was a wall of iron.
The Malaysian military had surrounded me two, three layers deep as if guarding a national treasure.
The foreign attachés could only glance at me and click their tongues in frustration; none of them dared break through that barrier.
I put the brutal little standoff behind me and focused on reviewing the blueprints.
“Director Baek, about this section...”
“Ah, there? Just route the hydraulic line around this way. That’ll make maintenance easier.”
The Malaysian technical officers were taking notes on every word I said, afraid to miss a thing.
That was when it happened.
“Senior.”
Cutting through the tight security, Cho Yerin approached me.
I wondered how she’d gotten in, and then I looked back to see Director Choi at the entrance, sweating bullets while blocking the Malaysian generals.
“Pack up. We’re leaving.”
“Hm? Leaving? But the schedule’s still got time left.”
“It’s my father’s order. He said to return immediately, first priority.”
Cho Yerin shook her phone at me with a serious face.
“It’s a special order. Something urgent came up at the company.”
“Urgent? Did something happen?”
“We’ll hear the details on the way. Director Choi barely managed to get permission and make room for this, so we need to move now.”
The situation was urgent.
To pull out just when the tide was turning and it was time to row hard was no ordinary matter.
I had a bad feeling it wasn’t trivial.
Without hesitation, I stood up.
The moment I moved, the Vietnamese and Philippine attachés, who had been watching the situation, began buzzing among themselves.
“Huh? You’re leaving? Director Baek! Just a second...”
“Please make way! This is an emergency!”
Cho Yerin brought her entourage with her and opened a path, and we slipped out of the operations room like we were fleeing.
It took less than thirty minutes to stop by the hotel and grab my bags.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Kuala Lumpur International Airport.
“This way.”
The place Cho Yerin led us to was not the regular departure hall.
It was a separate gate in a corner of the airport, heavily guarded.
[Private Jet Terminal]
A business-use private terminal.
“Why are we here...?”
“They said even the time to buy a ticket is too precious.”
Cho Yerin smirked and pointed toward the runway.
“So Dad sent a taxi.”
“...A taxi?”
The place she pointed to held not a Korean Air passenger jet, but a sleek, streamlined aircraft waiting on standby.
A clear HANSEO logo was stamped on its tail fin.
A Gulfstream G650ER.
The business jet favored by the world’s wealthiest people.
“Huh...”
I let out a dry laugh.
Coming here, I had crouched in the cargo hold. Going back, I was riding the chairman’s private jet.
I had never imagined I’d live to sit in something like this...
“Shall we board, Executive Director Baek? Ah, not yet an executive director? Well, that’ll change soon enough.”
Director Choi laughed heartily and pushed me toward the plane.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The moment I stepped inside, a hotel suite opened up before me.
There was a soft leather sofa and a wooden table.
A flight attendant came over and offered champagne, but I declined and asked for water instead.
“You’re going to be tired once you get back to Korea.”
Cho Yerin, seated on the sofa across from me, flipped through her tablet PC as she spoke.
“The stock forums are a mess. Everyone’s saying the share price shot up because of you, and now they’re chanting praises for ‘Light Baek Gunwoo’ and asking you to keep taking care of them.”
“The stock price isn’t my concern. I just want to go home, use the sauna a bit, and sleep.”
“Sleep? What sleep? The moment we land, we’re going straight to the chairman’s office. My dad’s been waiting with his neck stretched out for you.”
At Cho Yerin’s words, Director Choi, who had been listening from the side, snickered.
I looked out the window at the Malaysian night receding beneath us.
A sudden summons.
An extravagant level of treatment that even included a private jet.
He hadn’t called me just to praise me.
What in the world was going on?
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Seoul, Hanseo Defense headquarters.
It was late at night, but the lights in the chairman’s office were still on.
“Welcome! Our company’s treasure!”
The moment the door opened, Chairman Cho sprang up to greet me.
He grabbed both my hands and shook them up and down.
“I’m alive because of you, alive! I never thought I’d live to see the ADD bastards bow their heads. It feels like a forty-year blockage has finally cleared!”
He was talking about the KAAV-II matter, of course.
I thought that as I replied.
“It was fortunate. The local conditions worked in our favor.”
“Don’t be modest. Luck is skill too. Sit.”
Chairman Cho dismissed Director Choi and Cho Yerin, then sat face-to-face with me alone.
It was the highest treatment possible.
He slid a single document envelope across the table toward me.
“A promised gift. I was going to announce it at the regular personnel meeting this time, but I’m an impatient man. I signed it ahead of time.”
Through the envelope, the words promotion recommendation for executive director were faintly visible.
Promotion to executive director.
As a salaryman, I had reached for one of the stars a working man could earn.
Back when I was living an ordinary office life, I would have thought that if I were promoted to the executive ranks, I’d be so happy I’d feel like I owned the world.
Back then, the idea of becoming an executive had felt like an unrealistic goal.
But now, how should I put it? It was nice, but it also felt like something that had simply been waiting to happen.
Because of that, I could accept it calmly.
“Thank you, Chairman.”
“It’s me who should be thanking you. Do you know how much money you’ve brought in?”
Chairman Cho lifted his teacup in high spirits.
But after one sip, his expression turned distinctly serious.
“And... the real reason I called you in such a hurry is something else.”
Now we were getting to the actual matter.
I straightened up.
“Yes, Chairman. I’m listening.”
“Director Park Jincheol from ADD came to see me.”
“The director himself?”
“Yes. Came in sounding like he was dying on his feet. He asked to borrow you.”
“Is it because of the domestic KAAV-II issue? I did hear there were some problems over there.”
“No.”
Chairman Cho shook his head.
His eyes flashed sharply.
“The armored vehicle has already surrendered. They agreed to scrap their version and use your export design as the standard.”
“Then...?”
“The real problem, it seems, lies deeper.”
Chairman Cho raised one finger and pointed downward.
“Beneath the surface.”
“Beneath the surface?”
“The next 4,000-ton submarine. It’s on the verge of becoming a tin can. Batch 3, I mean.”
...A submarine?
At the completely unexpected word, my eyes widened.
“A submarine?”
“They installed a newly developed lithium-ion battery, but when they run the pumps to cool it, it gets loud and gives them away, and if they shut the pumps off, the battery overheats and blows. Vibrations and heat... that’s your specialty, isn’t it?”
Chairman Cho leaned forward and whispered in a low voice.
“Director Park said they’d spent 200 billion won over ten years and still couldn’t solve it. So now they’re saying they have to cling to a civilian technician, if that’s what it takes.”
“...Excuse me?”
No, what on earth was he saying?
I asked back with a dazed expression.
“ADD... asked a civilian to handle submarine design? Me?”
The Agency for Defense Development, the finest brain trust in the country?
A submarine, one of the nation’s top-class classified weapons?
“That’s right.”
A slow grin spread across Chairman Cho’s mouth.
It was the smile of a predator staring at prey.
“Go fix it. Make it so obvious they can’t miss it.”
He set his teacup down with a hard click.
“But don’t do it halfway. Take this chance and go after them like you mean to strip the bones clean. We’re bringing back submarine technology.”