Request for Repatriation (2)
The investigator was startled by Baek Kang’s words, but he didn’t show it on his face.
Not just the investigator, but no one in the National Intelligence Service had ever imagined that some naive cryptocurrency developer in his early twenties might have siphoned off North Korean slush funds.
“I’ll relay this to my superiors first.”
The investigator said it calmly and left Baek Kang’s office.
He reported the matter immediately, and by lunchtime it had reached Kim Jin-cheol.
Kim Jin-cheol canceled the meeting scheduled for the afternoon with the Minister of SMEs and Startups and called his aides, Ko Jeong-un, and Seo Seong-guk to his office.
“National Security Director.”
“Yes, Your Excellency.”
“How is the railway investigation progressing?”
“We recently confirmed the metal imported by the Chinese company visited by North Korea’s Railway Minister, Ri Gyeong-su.”
“Did you find anything useful?”
“Most of the metals that company imported were titanium and ceramic. Titanium and ceramic are used mainly to make missile bearings, not rail lines.”
“……”
At Ko Jeong-un’s report, Kim Jin-cheol’s expression hardened.
“That alone isn’t enough to draw a conclusion, Your Excellency.”
At that moment, Seo Seong-guk spoke up, and it was exactly the answer Kim Jin-cheol wanted.
“Right. That’s why we cross-check. Have the National Intelligence Service look into it further as well.”
“Yes, Your Excellency.”
“And as you all know, the man China is requesting for repatriation is said to have stolen North Korea’s slush funds. Is that true?”
“The National Intelligence Service is investigating that now.”
“How long will it take?”
“It shouldn’t take too long.”
“How much money are we talking about?”
“They said about 120 billion won.”
Given North Korea’s economy, which had been plunging ever since COVID, it was no small amount.
If the South Korean government really could secure North Korea’s slush funds.
It might become a useful bargaining chip in future negotiations with the North.
“Then what do you think we should do about China’s repatriation request?”
Kim Jin-cheol brought the matter up, and Ko Jeong-un answered first.
“The Intelligence Command agents detained in China are men who devoted their lives to the state. Rescuing them is also important.”
This time, Seo Seong-guk spoke in a tone that seemed almost to rebuke him.
“Come now, Director. Are the lives of just three agents more important than North Korea’s slush funds?”
Again, Seo Seong-guk supplied exactly the words Kim Jin-cheol wanted.
“Both of you calm down. For now, let’s reject China’s repatriation request.”
Kim Jin-cheol mediated the argument and brought it to a close.
No one in the room objected.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
At the National Intelligence Service headquarters in Naegok-dong, Seoul, the top hackers from the NIS’s North Korea Intelligence Bureau and Cyber Security Bureau were all mobilized to verify the cryptocurrency wallets Baek Kang had provided.
Just as Baek Kang had said, the hundreds of cryptocurrency wallets contained a variety of digital assets stolen by North Korea through hacking.
Baek Kang, together with hackers from Unit 121 under Bureau 3 of the Reconnaissance General Bureau, had hacked cryptocurrency exchanges, laundered the stolen coins, and then transferred them into cryptocurrency wallets managed by Bureau 39 in North Korea.
But after learning that his father had died, Baek Kang hacked the cryptocurrency wallets managed by Bureau 39.
And at that same moment, Ko Jeong-un, who had returned to the National Security Office, summoned Kang-hae separately.
Knock, knock.
At the sound of the knock, Kang-hae entered the director’s office.
“You wanted to see me?”
“It seems Baek Kang’s repatriation from China is going to be difficult.”
“May I ask why?”
“He appears to have embezzled North Korea’s slush funds.”
“……”
Kang-hae said nothing.
North Korea’s slush funds were of no concern to him.
What mattered far more to Kang-hae was the forced expulsion of his seniors from the Intelligence Command.
If Baek Kang wasn’t repatriated, then they would have to endure a brutal imprisonment in China with no end in sight.
“Then isn’t there any way to bring back the detained members of the overseas team?”
“As things stand now, no.”
“I understand.”
Kang-hae saluted Ko Jeong-un and left the director’s office.
And when Seong Ha-yeong saw Kang-hae’s expression as he returned to his desk, she could guess what Ko Jeong-un had told him.
She could also tell what Kang-hae was feeling.
When intelligence agents were arrested overseas, they could be abandoned for the sake of the nation’s interests. That was the life they lived.
But this was an arrest that should never have happened in the first place.
So Kang-hae would never simply let them be cast aside.
Hadn’t he, too, lost comrades to betrayal and nearly died himself?
“Hey, Kang-hae.”
Seong Ha-yeong called to him from the seat beside his.
“Yes?”
“Are you doing anything after work?”
“Not yet.”
“Then do you have a little time after you clock out?”
“……”
Kang-hae hesitated for a moment before saying yes, and Seong Ha-yeong hurried to clarify before he could misunderstand.
“I just want to talk for a bit.”
“Understood.”
After making the arrangement, Seong Ha-yeong waited for the end of the workday to come.
National Security Office employees could not leave until after 8 p.m., and Seong Ha-yeong led Kang-hae onto the Yongsan Base perimeter trail.
The two of them walked aimlessly along the path.
Then Seong Ha-yeong cautiously broke the silence.
“It’s a shame that the repatriation won’t happen.”
“……”
“At least they’re still alive for now…”
“Isn’t there any good way?”
When Kang-hae returned to South Korea, he had vowed to help with revenge.
But for now, his seniors were still alive.
And saving them came before revenge.
When Kang-hae said that, Seong Ha-yeong stopped in surprise.
“……?”
Kang-hae looked at her.
“Never mind.”
Seong Ha-yeong started walking again.
But unlike before, she could feel her heart beginning to pound, little by little.
It was the first time Kang-hae had ever asked for her opinion.
After everything that had happened since she met him, in the end things had always been resolved with Kang-hae’s help.
This time, more than anything, Seong Ha-yeong wanted to be useful to him.
But no good answer came to mind.
“China wanted a swap, but we don’t have a card we can hand over to them…” she said, trailing off in frustration.
At that moment, something flashed in Kang-hae’s mind.
“Then all we need to do is find a card to exchange, isn’t it?”
“That’s true, but… they said Baek Kang can’t be repatriated, didn’t they?”
“Then surely there are Ministry of State Security agents infiltrating South Korea as well.”
“Probably, yes…?”
Not only China, but the intelligence services of the United States, Japan, the United Kingdom, France, Russia, Israel, and countless other countries would have agents operating in South Korea.
“Then wouldn’t arresting the Ministry of State Security agents operating here give us a trade card?”
“……!”
Seong Ha-yeong thought that might actually work.
Kang-hae seemed to be mulling something over.
But before long, his expression hardened.
He couldn’t think of a way to arrest the Ministry of State Security agents infiltrated into South Korea.
Then Seong Ha-yeong’s gaze landed on the wall surrounding Yongsan Base.
……!
Something sparked in her mind.
“Hey, Kang-hae.”
“Yes?”
“You know this used to be a U.S. military base, right?”
“I do.”
“Putting up walls around a base is partly for safety, but even more importantly, it’s for security.”
“That’s right.”
“Let’s say you were assigned a mission to inspect the information on this base.”
“……?”
“And let’s say you could choose the time period you wanted to investigate. When would you start?”
“The best thing would be to investigate before construction even began. I’d be able to learn a lot more.”
“That’s exactly what I mean!”
“What is?”
Kang-hae still didn’t quite understand what Seong Ha-yeong was trying to say.
“Did I make that too difficult?”
“Not difficult—just a bit roundabout, I think.”
“Hey, Kang-hae.”
“Yes?”
“You don’t need to be that honest.”
“Sorry.”
“Ahem.”
Embarrassed, Seong Ha-yeong coughed awkwardly and went on.
“What I’m trying to say is that we should create something the Ministry of State Security agents infiltrated in South Korea would want to move on.”
“What is it?”
“A state-led project the Ministry of State Security agents would absolutely have to verify.”
“……?”
“Let’s go back to the National Security Office for now.”
Seong Ha-yeong called a taxi, and the two of them returned to the National Security Office.
Back at their desks, they turned on their computers and began going through the project reports that various ministries had written but never adopted.
From the Ministry of Trade, Industry and Energy’s Next-Generation Semiconductor Hub Project, drafted two years earlier, to the Ministry of National Defense’s Establishment of a ROK-U.S. Joint Cyber Warfare Center, Seong Ha-yeong reviewed hundreds of reports deep into the late night.
And Kang-hae simply watched her in silence.
He was grateful.
And then…
For the first time, Kang-hae felt an emotion he couldn’t quite name.
Seong Ha-yeong checked off a few reports from among the hundreds she had reviewed and kept revising them until 6 a.m.
Whirrr—
The revised reports slid out of the printer.
“I’ll report these to Assistant Director Kim Jeong-min first. After that, he just needs to pass them on to the director. Then we can go to the director ourselves and explain the full story properly, and the game’s over.”
“You really didn’t have to go this far… thank you.”
“Hey, Kang-hae.”
“Yes?”
“I’m a National Security Office employee too. The National Security Office is the core department responsible for the country’s security, and of course, as one of its staff, I want the ROK Intelligence Command officers risking their lives overseas to come back safely.”
“Thank you.”
“Then I’m going to catch a little sleep in the break room. You should get some sleep too.”
After saying that, Seong Ha-yeong stood and headed to the women’s break room.
It was a space set aside for employees on duty or working overtime, and Seong Ha-yeong closed her eyes there for a little while.
8 a.m. came.
One by one, the employees of the National Security Office began arriving for work.
Seong Ha-yeong, who had dozed in the break room, returned to her desk as well.
By 8:30, Kim Jeong-min, the director of the National Crisis Management Center, appeared.
He found the report sitting on his desk, and the moment he saw that Seong Ha-yeong had written it, he went looking for her.
“Ha-yeong.”
“Yes, sir.”
“What is this report?”
“I prepared it because I thought it was a pretty good item among the projects the Ministry of National Defense and ADD pushed three years ago.”
Kim Jeong-min looked back down at the report.
Next-Generation Stealth Drone Development Project
It was the one Seong Ha-yeong had selected from among the various candidates.
She had judged that even China would be highly interested in it.
“What I mean is, why did you draft this now?”
“I put it together separately after Rep. Lee Jae-seong’s remarks in the National Assembly Steering Committee last time, when he said our office was being overly obstructive toward projects the Ministry of National Defense wanted to push.”
“Ha ha ha. I had no idea you thought that much of our office.”
Kim Jeong-min burst out laughing, and Seong Ha-yeong waited tensely for his next words.
“Good work. You’ve clearly put in the effort, so I’ll report it to the director. But don’t get your hopes up too much.”
“Thank you.”
“All right. Get back to work.”
“Yes, sir.”
As Seong Ha-yeong returned to her seat, she let out a quiet sigh of relief inside.
Then, as she sat down, she winked at Kang-hae.
Wink.
And Kang-hae, without quite meaning to, smiled a little.
Once again, he felt that same nameless emotion.