The National Security Office
Ko Jeong-un.
He had graduated at the top of his class from the Korean Military Academy.
After that, he was commissioned as a GOP platoon leader in the 21st Infantry Division and spent more than twenty years in uniform.
Thanks to his exceptional ability and his unbending backbone, he earned both respect and a measure of envy.
But the public verdict had always been the same.
A true soldier.
Kang-hae had heard about Ko Jeong-un many times as well.
But today was the first time he had ever met the man in person.
And because Ha Seok-jun had appeared and vanished a moment ago, the two of them had only managed to exchange greetings so far.
“I heard you were shot.”
Contrary to his reputation, Ko Jeong-un’s tone was warm.
“Yes, sir.”
“First time?”
“Are you asking whether it was the first time I’d been shot?”
Ko Jeong-un nodded without a word.
“Yes, sir.”
“How was it?”
“I was too busy to feel much pain.”
“That’s impressive. I was in quite a bit of pain myself.”
“……”
Ko Jeong-un lifted the shirt he was wearing.
A gunshot wound was visible in his right flank.
“I took one to the side too, just like you.”
“……”
Kang-hae said nothing. He didn’t know what to say.
Ko Jeong-un went on.
“The man who shot me here was Lee Woo-hyung, the acting team leader.”
“……?! ”
“We were training together at the time. That bastard Lee Woo-hyung was so worried something might happen to me that he barely slept for two days.”
Kang-hae had heard that when Ko Jeong-un was a major, he’d served as the team leader of an operations unit in the Intelligence Command.
But he had never known there was any connection between him and Lee Woo-hyung.
Ko Jeong-un kept talking, bringing up one story after another about the times he’d spent with Lee Woo-hyung.
Most of it was about how clumsy and mistake-prone Lee Woo-hyung had been.
Kang-hae couldn’t quite picture the bumbling, helpless version of Lee Woo-hyung that Ko Jeong-un described.
But even tigers had once been cubs.
As he listened, his chest began to ache with a strange, dull tenderness.
“I heard you were in the Intelligence Command before.”
“Then did you also hear that I went to the North?”
“I didn’t.”
“Three times. I went three times, all with Lee Woo-hyung.”
Back when Ko Jeong-un had been team leader, Lee Woo-hyung had been the youngest man on the team.
“The last time I went north, we were discovered at the Yalu River. Three of our men were shot just like you were. But their condition was a hell of a lot worse than yours. They couldn’t move.”
“……”
“So I ordered Lee Woo-hyung to shoot the wounded men in the head.”
“……”
“What do you think he did?”
“He didn’t shoot them.”
“Could you do it if you were in his place?”
“……”
Kang-hae fell silent, thinking.
If Ha-jun were wounded, could he pull the trigger on Ha-jun’s head?
He shook his head inwardly.
“I don’t think I could.”
“You really are a lot like Lee Woo-hyung.”
“Did Deputy Director Lee fire then?”
“No, he couldn’t do it either. So I did it myself.”
“……”
“Because I figured it was better than being dragged off by those red bastards and tortured to death. I haven’t changed my mind since.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Let me ask you again. Could you shoot?”
“No.”
“Then what if it were, say, the traitor who sent my comrades to their deaths? Could you shoot him?”
“……?! ”
“You know there’s a traitor inside. Could you shoot that traitor?”
“I could.”
“No matter who it was?”
“No matter who it was.”
“I’ll be moving to the National Security Office soon. I’ll make room for you there too.”
* * *
Several hours before Ko Jeong-un came to see Kang-hae, President Kim Jin-cheol had ordered a reshuffle of his senior staff.
It was one of the most visible moves he had been considering, and it was also the obvious next step.
The first offices mentioned were the National Security Office, the Ministry of National Defense, and the Ministry of Unification.
The Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the National Intelligence Service were also brought up.
Names that had been on the shortlist before the last cabinet was formed came up from the chief secretaries’ mouths.
“Let’s make Ko Jeong-un the National Security Advisor.”
But the moment Kim Jin-cheol said Ko Jeong-un’s name, everyone around him looked troubled.
“He’s an Army major general, Your Excellency. That wouldn’t be fair.”
“That’s right. There’s never been a case like that in any administration.”
“Operation Storm failed too. The Intelligence Command has to take responsibility.”
The staff’s objections were only natural.
The National Security Advisor was usually a post held by a retired four-star general or someone who had served as ambassador to a G7 nation.
There were three deputy directors under the National Security Advisor.
The first deputy handled foreign affairs.
The second deputy handled defense.
The third deputy handled economic security.
The deputy director rank carried treatment equivalent to a vice minister, and the position was usually held by a retired major general or a former vice minister of foreign affairs.
Two of the current deputy directors were even Ko Jeong-un’s seniors from the Military Academy.
It was obvious the appointment would trigger fierce resistance.
“What about the case of Minister Kang Kyung-sil?”
Kim Jin-cheol was referring to Kang Kyung-sil, the youngest and first female Minister of Justice in constitutional history.
Even twenty years ago, when she had been appointed, the backlash had been just as fierce.
She had advocated abolishing the family head system, and while serving as a judge she had led a judicial upheaval that forced the Chief Justice to resign. Her reformist bent had been a problem.
But the biggest reason was that she had left the bench after serving as a judge at the Seoul High Court.
Many feared she would never be able to control a judiciary that valued seniority and order above all else.
As the critics had predicted, she spent her entire term locked in open conflict with the prosecution.
“Minister Kang Kyung-sil was appointed twenty years ago, Your Excellency.”
“Exactly. Then why have we been doing nothing but sliding backward for twenty years?”
Even in the face of strong resistance from his staff, Kim Jin-cheol refused to back down.
In the end, Ko Jeong-un was designated as the second National Security Advisor of Kim Jin-cheol’s administration.
A week later, Ko Jeong-un was officially appointed National Security Advisor.
The Civil Affairs Office carried out its personnel vetting more thoroughly than ever before.
And they failed to find even the tiniest flaw in Ko Jeong-un’s record.
When Kim Jin-cheol received that report from Chief Secretary for Civil Affairs Lee Sang-woo, he made no effort to hide his satisfaction.
“Ha ha ha. A true clean official, a true clean official.”
“Yes, Your Excellency. Everything is spotless, from his spouse to his children.”
“At this point, shouldn’t we let the press know?”
His tone was casual, but Lee Sang-woo understood that Kim Jin-cheol was not speaking idly.
“I’ll take care of it, Your Excellency.”
“Haha. No need to go that far.”
“It might help your approval ratings.”
“Don’t overdo it.”
“Yes, Your Excellency.”
“All right then. You can go.”
After sending the chief secretary out, Kim Jin-cheol read over the personnel vetting report on his desk once more.
And he became certain he had chosen the right man.
A person with this kind of background and reputation would be able to find the one who had leaked state secrets to the enemy.
* * *
Seoul Jeil Hospital, inpatient room.
“I’m telling you, I’ve been a doctor for ten years, and you’re the first gunshot patient I’ve ever had, Mr. Na Kang-hae.”
The doctor who had performed Kang-hae’s surgery said that to him.
He went on.
“And you’re also the first person I’ve seen recover this quickly.”
“Then when can I be discharged?”
“Tomorrow is fine. Of course, no strenuous exercise or drinking, naturally.”
“Thank you.”
“All right. I’ll see you when the stitches come out.”
With that, the doctor left the room, and Kang-hae took out the phone he had left under his pillow.
Joo Hyeon-woo had left it behind last time.
Kang-hae called him and gave him the news.
That night, Joo Hyeon-woo came to see Kang-hae again.
Once again, he came up the wall.
“Senior.”
“Yeah.”
“But why did you climb the wall again?”
“Hey, if I get caught coming here right now, this is what happens.”
Joo Hyeon-woo made a slashing motion across his own throat with his hand.
“Things are bad between us and you guys these days. Shit, it’s like two whales fighting and the shrimp gets crushed in the middle. Seems like our director got chewed out hard by your chairman in front of the president. So now everyone who came out of the Intelligence Command is just breathing quietly and going to work.”
The NIS and the Intelligence Command had always competed over North Korea-related operations.
But internally and externally, the NIS always came first.
People outside even called the NIS the big house and the Intelligence Command the little house.
But after the NIS director was humiliated by Ko Jeong-un at the last NSC meeting, the atmosphere inside the NIS had turned ugly.
The NIS second deputy director in charge of North Korea work had fallen out of favor with the director.
And employees like Joo Hyeon-woo, who had come from the Intelligence Command, had to walk on eggshells too.
“Then about what I asked you for last time.”
“The MDL personnel list? It’ll probably take a few more days. But something’s weird.”
“What’s weird?”
“The bastards at the Defense Ministry classified the duty roster at security level 2. That kind of list is usually level 3. I’ll get it as fast as I can.”
“That’s fine.”
“Fine?”
“There’s one more person who’ll get it for me.”
Joo Hyeon-woo was curious who that might be, but he didn’t ask.
Asking about an informant’s identity was unspoken law in the NIS.
After that, Kang-hae and Joo Hyeon-woo talked about many things.
The training they had received in the Intelligence Command, the memories they shared with comrades who had died during Operation Storm, and the plans they had for the future.
The two of them kept talking late into the night.
* * *
The next day.
A National Security Office employee came to see Kang-hae.
The hospital had called ahead.
The employee who came for him was, at a glance, a striking beauty.
And Kang-hae quickly scanned her.
Not out of romantic curiosity, but more from the occupational habits of a special forces man.
She wore a suit and had her hair tied back.
She didn’t look older than her mid-twenties.
She also had a lean, trained body and an upright posture, the kind shaped by exercise.
But more impressive than her appearance was her indifferent, no-nonsense bearing.
She helped Kang-hae with the discharge procedures.
When everything was done, she handed him her business card in the hospital lobby on the first floor.
“Here’s my card.”
Kang-hae took it from her.
National Security Office of the Republic of Korea.
Crisis Management Center.
Support Team, Seong Ha-yeong.
“You can start work next week. If anything comes up or you have questions, call me.”
“Thank you.”
“Where do you live? I’ll give you a ride.”
“It’s fine.”
“All right. Then I’ll see you next week.”
After saying that, Seong Ha-yeong left the lobby.
Kang-hae followed her outside too.
Seong Ha-yeong headed for the parking lot.
Kang-hae walked toward the taxi stand on the opposite side.
Then he climbed into the back seat of a cab that had stopped in front of him.
“Welcome aboard.”
“Can you take me to Gwacheon?”
“Ah, of course. Let’s go.”
The taxi driver, delighted to have picked up an out-of-town fare, smiled broadly.
“Then please take me to the Defense Counterintelligence Command headquarters in Juam-dong, Gwacheon.”
“The Defense Counterintelligence Command? You mean the old KIDC?”
“That’s right.”
“Understood. I’ll head there now.”
The taxi carrying Kang-hae left Seoul Jeil Hospital and headed for Gwacheon, Gyeonggi Province, where the Defense Counterintelligence Command was located.
There, he would meet Ha Seok-jun.
There were a few things he needed to ask him.