Trackers (1)
The place Kang-hae and Seong Ha-yeong had entered was a mountain ridge near Jindong-ri in Inje County, Gangwon-do.
The mountain, which connected to the western foothills of Seoraksan, was steep and rugged, untouched by human feet.
But climbing mountains was one of Kang-hae’s strongest suits.
Back in the Development Group, he had climbed every mountain in the country. And especially the mountains in Goseong, Sokcho, and Inje, where the ridgelines ran into North Korea’s Geumgangsan, he had climbed them until he was sick of them.
“I’ll take the lead.”
“Understood.”
“If you hear anything, hide behind a tree or a rock. If that’s not possible, drop flat to the ground.”
“Yes.”
Clutching his pistol, Kang-hae moved out in front and blazed a path forward.
Seong Ha-yeong followed close behind him.
“Huff... huff...”
Not long after they began climbing, Seong Ha-yeong let out a rough breath.
Kang-hae looked back with concern.
“Are you all right?”
“Huff... yes. I’m fine...”
She looked exhausted.
Since Director Go Jeong-un’s funeral, she hadn’t really been able to rest, and fatigue had clearly piled up. On top of that, the attack a little while ago must have shaken her badly.
The one small mercy was that the shoes Seong Ha-yeong wore were not heels but flat walking shoes.
As much as she wanted to stop and rest for a while, she couldn’t afford to. This was already the second attack.
The first one had failed.
Which meant the second would almost certainly come with more men and more equipment.
Even if it was hard, they had to get as far away as possible from the site of the incident.
“Kang-hae.”
“Yes.”
“At least one thing is clear now.”
“What’s that?”
“They’re trying to kill me too.”
Until now, Seong Ha-yeong had never experienced this kind of threat in her life.
She had once come close to a terrible ordeal in Japan, but strictly speaking, that had been a family matter.
Because she was a blood relative of the Ilseong Group, she had been treated as special from the moment she was born. People were always kind to her. Especially in South Korea.
And before leaving for Goseong, Seong Ha-yeong had held onto a vague hope.
If I’m with him, maybe Kang-hae will be safe too...?
No matter how terrifying Cheongganghoe was as an organization, would they really dare lay a hand on the bloodline of Ilseong Group?
Weren’t they even connected to her grandfather and father?
But now she understood how naive that thought had been.
“Ha-yeong.”
“Yes.”
“We need to keep moving, even if it’s hard.”
“Listen, Kang-hae.”
“Yes.”
“Do you think there are people chasing us?”
“There are.”
“……”
Worry flickered across Seong Ha-yeong’s face.
“I saw a road sign on the highway earlier, and it looked like this was near Inje...”
“That’s right.”
“Then this is the area where the Eulji Unit is stationed.”
“Yes. It’s the 12th Division’s area.”
“Then what about heading to a nearby military base?”
“……”
Kang-hae had thought of it too.
But he shook his head.
During Operation Windbreak, when the mission had failed and he and Hajun had retreated to the MDL, the ones who killed Hajun had been soldiers too.
“Right now, we can’t trust anyone.”
“Understood.”
“Follow me.”
Kang-hae set off again at the front.
Ten minutes after they had climbed the mountain, he heard movement somewhere nearby.
Seong Ha-yeong heard it too.
Both of them hid behind a nearby tree.
Rustle.
There it was again.
A moment later, several piglets emerged from the brush.
Shit...
If there were piglets, that meant the mother wasn’t far away.
Kang-hae quickly scanned his surroundings, and sure enough, he spotted a mother boar the size of a compact car.
Thud.
Thud, thud.
Thud, thud, thud.
The mother boar, her eyes bloodshot red, saliva dripping from her mouth, charged straight at Seong Ha-yeong.
Kang-hae fired his pistol at her.
Bang.
Bang.
Bang.
The bullets struck the boar’s head and neck, but she kept stumbling forward toward Seong Ha-yeong.
Terrified, Seong Ha-yeong backed away, lost her footing, and rolled down the slope.
Bang.
Bang.
Bang.
Kang-hae kept firing at the boar, and only after the magazine was empty did the animal finally stagger and collapse, drawing its last breath.
“Ha-yeong!”
Kang-hae rushed down the slope where she had fallen.
Seong Ha-yeong lay on the ground, writhing in pain.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m... ahhh...”
She groaned.
“Where does it hurt?”
“My ankle...”
Kang-hae examined her left ankle.
“Ah...”
When his hand touched it, Seong Ha-yeong groaned again.
“S-sorry...”
“Don’t say that.”
“This is just because of me... because I insisted on coming...”
“It doesn’t seem broken, fortunately.”
Kang-hae wrapped one arm around her side and helped her up.
“Can you walk?”
“I’ll try...”
Carefully, Seong Ha-yeong set her left foot on the ground.
“Ugh...”
And immediately felt unbearable pain.
“I can’t...”
“……”
“Go on without me, Kang-hae...”
And in that instant, Kang-hae hoisted Seong Ha-yeong onto his shoulder.
“W-w-what are you doing?!”
She shouted in shock, but Kang-hae said nothing and carried her up the mountain.
“Kang-hae! Put me down! Hurry!”
“……”
Silently, Kang-hae kept climbing.
Three hours passed like that.
Not once did Kang-hae stop walking.
* * *
The armed foreigners climbing the mountain spoke to one another in English.
“Korea’s mountains are fucking awful.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Fuck, when this mission’s over, I’m asking for more money.”
“The weather’s shit too. Why the hell is it so humid, fuck.”
They were PMC mercenaries hired by Cheongganghoe.
As you’d expect from PMC mercenaries, they were of different races and nationalities.
In the past, they had served in units like the French Foreign Legion, Russia’s Spetsnaz GRU, and South Africa’s Reconnaissance Regiments.
Every one of them had a record of causing a major incident in their unit and being dishonorably discharged.
Among them, one Asian man stood out.
Ri Sang-ho.
He was from Unit 963 of the North Korean Supreme Guard Command, and he was the leader of the six-man team.
He was also the dump truck driver who had lunged at Kang-hae on Hannam Bridge not long ago.
That was definitely gunfire...
Ri Sang-ho remembered the sound he had heard a few hours earlier.
There was a military base nearby, but it definitely hadn’t been live-fire training.
He knew that, unlike in the Republic, live-fire drills in South Korea followed strict procedures.
If it had been training, there would’ve been an announcement... but I didn’t hear anything...
Then it must have been an attack by wild animals.
Probably a wild boar.
He knew that boars raised in the Republic, where food was scarce and the climate harsh, were a different size from the boars in South Korea.
At that moment, Victor called out to Ri Sang-ho.
Victor, a Russian Spetsnaz defector, was a huge East Slavic brute well over 190 centimeters tall and more than 120 kilograms in weight. In the end, he had been dishonorably discharged for alcoholism and repeated assaults.
“Hey, Ri.”
“What.”
“Why don’t we just launch the drone?”
They had several drones equipped with thermal cameras.
But Ri Sang-ho rejected the suggestion at once.
“Not yet.”
“Fuck, why the hell not?”
Victor’s voice was full of annoyance, and he took a swig from the vodka in his canteen.
“There’s a military base nearby. We could get spotted.”
“Fuck it, then let’s send these bastard dogs up instead.”
They had brought tracking dogs with them, too, and the PMC mercenaries held the dogs’ leashes in their hands.
“We wait until sunset.”
“If you’d handled this properly on the Han River, we wouldn’t be stuck doing this bullshit!”
Victor glared at Ri Sang-ho as if he were about to strike him.
Ri Sang-ho ignored him and looked up at the sky.
The sun was slowly sinking.
Once darkness fell, they would launch the drones and release the tracking dogs.
Until then, all they had to do was keep their distance.
In any case, one thing was certain: time was on their side.
* * *
Carried on Kang-hae’s shoulder, Seong Ha-yeong sensed that his breathing had changed from what it had been at the start.
“Kang-hae...”
“Yes.”
“My throat’s so dry. Could we drink some water?”
“……”
Kang-hae looked around.
A stream of water was flowing about ten meters away, and he headed toward it.
The two of them sat on the ground and drank from the running water.
“Kang-hae.”
“Yes.”
“Aren’t you tired...?”
“I’m fine.”
“Still, I weigh 48 kilos...”
“48 kilos?”
“Yes.”
“Doesn’t seem like enough.”
“W-what did you say?”
“I’m joking.”
“……”
Seong Ha-yeong stared at him in disbelief.
“That was really a joke.”
“That’s the first time I’ve ever seen you joke, Kang-hae.”
Kang-hae smiled without saying anything.
It would have been a lie to say he wasn’t tired.
He was worried too.
Darkness would soon come.
If there was a pursuit team—no, there would be one, without question—then shaking them off while carrying Seong Ha-yeong and without night-vision goggles would not be easy.
But he didn’t show it.
“I’m sorry... because of me...”
“I could carry you all the way to North Korea like this.”
“Was that supposed to be a joke too...?”
“Yes.”
“Ha...”
A short, incredulous sigh escaped Seong Ha-yeong’s lips, and a moment later she smiled for the first time since they’d climbed the mountain.
She was grateful.
To Kang-hae.
For carrying her on his shoulder for hours without letting on how hard it was.
And for tossing out awkward jokes just to ease her mind.
Before they set out, Kang-hae rummaged through the bag he was carrying.
Inside were various weapons and communications devices he had brought from the SmartFix office.
He dug through the bag and searched for a magazine.
He had planned to replace it before they resumed climbing.
And then something caught in his hand.
A CW transmitter, small enough to fit in the palm of his hand.
And a thought flashed briefly through Kang-hae’s mind.
Maybe...
Kang-hae turned on the CW transmitter.
A moment later, the transmitter powered up.
He adjusted the frequency by turning the dial.
Then he sent Morse code.
* * *
6:00 p.m.
Pangyo Techno Valley, K-SIGNAL Research Institute, Bundang-gu, Seongnam, Gyeonggi-do.
K-SIGNAL Research Institute was the South Korean Intelligence Command’s interception and crypto-analysis base, where not only North Korea’s military communication networks but also the mobile phones and encrypted data of North Korea’s top officials were decoded.
And in the third-floor CW interception receiving room, the staff were staring at their monitors with faces more serious than ever.
A moment later, Brigadier General Yoon Gi-hun, the Fourth Division Chief of Intelligence Command, who had received the report, entered the CW receiving room.
Before the people in the room could even salute, Yoon Gi-hun asked urgently, “Delta-0 channel?”
“Yes, sir.”
Colonel Choi Do-hyun, the head of the CW interception analysis room, answered without even remembering to salute.
“……”
Yoon Gi-hun said nothing, his expression grim.
Intelligence Command operated two frequency channels named Delta. They were channels reserved for Intelligence Command personnel who had joined an operation and never returned.
Naturally, only Intelligence Command personnel involved in those operations knew the frequencies.
Delta-0 was for domestic operations.
Delta-1 was for overseas operations.
And in the past ten years, not once had a signal ever come in on either channel.
“The code?”
“1, 7, 4.”
One meant return to domestic territory.
Seven meant rescue request.
Four meant threat.
“Signal location?”
“It’s coming up in Inje County.”
At the word Inje County, Yoon Gi-hun immediately remembered the report he had received that morning.
The Jumunjin Team from Intelligence Command was training in Inje.
Yoon Gi-hun immediately called the team commander and ordered him to move toward the signal’s location.