Camp Peary
Clouds drifted below the window as a green sea spread out beneath the plane.
As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but forest, flat land, and the occasional scattered town.
It was a landscape utterly unlike the western United States, where all I’d seen were deserts and rocky mountains.
Thud.
The landing gear hit the runway, and the plane lurched hard.
Washington Dulles International Airport. Fourteen miserable hours of flying were finally over.
When I emerged from the arrivals hall, a white man was standing there holding a sheet of paper with my name on it.
Polos shirt, khakis, a slight belly, a mustache, and horn-rimmed glasses.
He had the kind of face you’d see on the owner of a boardinghouse near a college campus.
“Lee?”
He checked my face, lowered the paper, and broke into a broad smile.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Samuel, but just call me Sam. I was told you had a pretty long flight, and—ha, just hearing that makes my butt ache. Ah, this way.”
He had an easygoing, cheerful way of speaking.
He was definitely different from the CIA people I’d met so far.
He felt less like an intelligence officer and more like a familiar old guy from the neighborhood.
“Nice to meet you too, Sam. It wasn’t as bad as I expected.”
“Well, that’s a relief. Let’s get going.”
Sam took my suitcase and led me to the parking lot.
He opened the rear door of a black SUV and jerked his chin with a grin.
“We’ve got a bit of a drive from here. About two and a half hours? Feel free to sleep if you want, or just enjoy the scenery.”
I got into the back seat and looked out at the passing landscape.
And then, suddenly, I remembered the phone call I’d received ten days earlier.
After finishing my business trip in Japan, I’d returned to my officetel in Seoul.
And then, as always, the quiet, uneventful days of ordinary life had settled back in.
Exercise, meals, sleep...
Sometimes I’d meet up with friends in Seoul too. It wasn’t bad, honestly.
And then, about two weeks later, an unknown number had called.
The man who introduced himself as Elena’s superior told me to call him Hoffman.
Like the people at this so-called “company,” he’d wrapped everything in euphemism and spoke in circles.
But to cut to the point, the reason he’d called was this:
Would I be interested in entering into a formal contract with the CIA?
For the record, Hoffman had even brought up the possibility of me becoming a full-time CIA employee.
But the process was complicated, and above all, there was the issue that I’d have to become a U.S. citizen.
I couldn’t help thinking about how my parents, natives of Cheongju, would react if their only son suddenly came home as an American.
Yeah... they probably wouldn’t just shrug and let it slide.
So the compromise we’d settled on was a direct independent contractor arrangement with the CIA.
Of course, that meant more compensation, more conditions, and a lot more procedures.
And that was why I was now setting foot on American soil.
You need at least minimal training, Lee. Not for us—for you. You can’t keep working like a ninja forever.
At his suggestion, I’d agreed to go through the CIA’s official training program.
I’d already been feeling that if I was going to keep doing this work, I needed professional training.
Like Hoffman said, I couldn’t keep relying on throwing charms at problems forever.
Unlike in my past life, I wasn’t some great warrior, and in the modern age there were guns.
Could someone like me, whose inner force didn’t even reach Third-class, really beat a gun head-on?
No matter who I was, I couldn’t dodge a bullet once it was already flying at me. That was reality.
Guns, huh...
Before long, the car merged onto the highway and picked up speed.
As we headed into the suburbs, the scenery turned into the kind of thing people usually imagined when they thought of America.
Two-story houses with neatly trimmed lawns, shopping mall parking lots, church signs...
After driving like that for a long while, even that scenery began to thin out, and all that remained were trees.
Pine trees packed together at the same height, with white-painted wooden houses visible between them.
Now and then, a pointed church steeple would jut up briefly before sinking back into the forest.
“First time in this area?” Sam asked, glancing at me in the rearview mirror.
“The Williamsburg side has some pretty famous tourist spots, but once you get a little outside town, it’s nothing but forest. If you don’t have a car, you’re basically stranded here.”
“It’s definitely different from Seoul.”
“Haha, of course. Seoul’s a huge metropolis. I visited once on vacation years ago. Compared to that, this is more like a small country town.”
The car was pleasantly cool thanks to the air conditioner, but outside, heat shimmered above the asphalt.
Virginia in July was a furnace far beyond anything I’d imagined.
After driving for a little over two hours, we exited the highway.
A gas station. A fast-food sign. A broad parking lot. And forest stretching endlessly beyond it.
The signs on the occasional shops looked worn, and there were more cars than people on the road.
Soon the SUV pulled up in front of a small, shabby motel by the roadside.
Sam handed me an envelope and a room key from the driver’s seat.
“One of the staff in charge will arrive a little later. Until then, just relax. Oh! And it’s fine to go outside and walk around, but, as you can see, there isn’t much to this town...”
He gestured toward the window and shrugged.
“Just don’t wander too far. I’ll come pick you up tomorrow morning.”
***
I opened the door with the key and stepped into the room.
One queen-sized bed, a wooden table, and a TV. The air conditioner hummed steadily.
Afternoon sunlight slanted in through the blinds.
It was clean enough, but there was a faint, stale odor soaked into the wallpaper.
The carpet gave off a mix of detergent and old dust.
Better than a Hong Kong one-room flat.
I unpacked, then opened the envelope Sam had given me.
Inside were a few simple documents, a paper with tomorrow’s schedule, and an old-model cell phone.
Of course, only one contact had been saved in it.
Ha. I’m starting to get used to this.
I let out a small laugh and skimmed the schedule.
Tomorrow at 9:00 a.m.: camp admission procedures, orientation, housing assignment...
About an hour or two later, there was a knock at the door.
Knock, knock.
When I opened it, a man who looked at least in his forties was standing there.
Tall, lean, neatly combed light-brown hair, and thin gold-rimmed glasses.
He had no expression at all, which made him feel completely different from Sam.
He didn’t bother introducing himself beyond saying that Hoffman had sent him.
He came inside, sat down at the table, and immediately took out the documents.
“Let’s start by confirming the contract terms. The form is an independent contractor arrangement attached to the operations division. Since you are not a formal CIA employee, your name will not appear in the internal personnel system. However, regarding the operations you are deployed to, Lee will have the authority to choose whether to accept or refuse. I was told this much had already been negotiated.”
He slid a sheet of paper toward me.
“In addition, your military service processing has already been completed. The reward for your previous mission will also be transferred to your overseas account according to the schedule listed here.”
I checked the numbers and nodded.
Then the handler pulled out a separate list. It was the one I’d sent in advance.
...
His eyes stopped briefly as he scanned the list.
[Centuries-old wild ginseng, Hasuo.]
These were the things I had strongly requested when discussing the contract with Hoffman.
The CIA would procure the medicinal ingredients I wanted, and the cost would be handled through my mission compensation.
Centuries-old wild ginseng wasn’t easy to get in the United States either.
Rather than go around searching for each item one by one, why not make use of the CIA I’d be working with?
I’d simply pay the money and take the elixirs.
“...Is this everything you need?”
He seemed a little flustered by my out-of-the-blue request for such expensive medicinal ingredients.
I nodded readily, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
“It’s for health management. Essential for maintaining stamina.”
The handler looked at me for a moment.
It seemed like he wanted to ask more, but he kept his mouth shut.
“It’ll take a bit of time, but... yes, we can source them. During the training period, we can have them delivered directly to the camp. However, the contents will be inspected. I’ll need you to understand that.”
They could inspect them all they wanted.
To anyone other than me, they were just medicinal herbs.
“The other requests you made have also been approved. We’ll organize the detailed conditions and brief you again once the training is over.”
After saying that, the handler flipped to another page and continued.
“Next is the training itself. You’ll enter Camp Peary tomorrow morning. Conveniently, that’s the day the July class of new recruits begins, so the timing matches up. However, Lee will not be part of the regular course. Instead, you’ll undergo short-term training on a separate track. You’ll participate in the theoretical and foundational portions of the regular class, while an instructor dispatched from SAC will be assigned separately to conduct practical training alongside that. The total period is three months, after which it will be adjusted depending on the evaluation results.”
The handler paused for a moment, then said,
“For reference, you won’t use your real name inside the camp. In no case should your identity be identifiable, and you should continue using the alias ‘Lee’ as before. Also, external contact will be completely blocked. All communication devices you currently have must be turned in tomorrow upon admission.”
The handler gathered up the papers, stood, and got to his feet.
He gave a short bow, then opened the door and left.
Thunk.
***
Evening, as the sun began to tilt downward.
I opened the motel door and stepped outside.
Whoosh.
Humid heat wrapped itself around my whole body.
I hadn’t noticed it inside the air conditioning, but outside it was practically a sauna.
“Phew... it’s blazing out here.”
In front of the motel was a four-lane road, and traffic was fairly heavy.
Pines and oaks crowded both sides of the road, with gas stations and small stores scattered here and there.
There were no sidewalks in this town, so I had to walk along the shoulder.
Yeah, there’s really nowhere to go without a car.
Now I understood what Sam had meant.
After walking a bit for the sake of a stroll, I came across a gas station.
[Sunoco.]
It was a tiny station with a blue sign and only two pumps.
I went inside the attached convenience store, picked up a bottle of water and a chocolate bar, and set them on the counter.
The white man who seemed to be the owner looked at me for a moment before speaking.
“Not often you get travelers coming out this way.”
“Yeah. Things just worked out that way.”
I shrugged and answered casually.
“Best not to be wandering around too late. It gets pretty empty out here at night.”
After that, I exchanged a brief greeting with the owner and went back outside.
I sat on the concrete curb outside the gas station, drank some water, and looked north.
Beyond the direction I’d come from, all I could see was forest.
At the far edge of that forest there was barbed wire, and inside it was the place I’d be entering tomorrow.
Now and then, a sharp, booming sound carried out from beyond the trees.
Hearing that sound finally makes this feel real.
One way or another, I was going back into a training camp.
Only this time, it wasn’t in Korea—it was a specialized CIA training facility in the United States.
“Ha.”
A laugh escaped me before I could stop it.
Maybe this had always been my fate, ever since I remembered my past life.
I returned to the motel and sat on the bed.
By now the sun was clearly setting, and thin streaks of orange light were slipping through the blinds.
[20:10]
After glancing at the time, I took out my phone and called my mother.
Considering the time difference, it was around 9 a.m. in Korea.
“Son! You made it to America?”
“Yes, I’ve unpacked at the lodging now. It’s morning over there, right?”
I’d told my parents I was going to the United States for a Korean medicine training program.
Three to six months. I was supposedly selected from the U.S. Forces Korea program they’d sent out before.
My father, as always, had simply said that if it was a good opportunity, I should go. That was the end of it.
And my mother was... the kind of person who always worried that her child might be going hungry.
She asked whether I’d been eating well and whether the food suited my taste, and I answered with a laugh.
“Haha, do you really think a doctor’s son can’t manage his meals?”
That seemed to reassure her at last.
After that came a long parade of worries—whether America was safe, what if I got sick on my own, whether I’d packed enough underwear and socks, and so on.
It looked like this would never end, so I kept saying yes, yes, and quickly hung up.
“Phew...”
If she worried this much just because I said I’d gone abroad for training...
what would she do if she knew her son had actually entered a secret CIA training camp in the United States?
Let’s call it... a kind of omission for the sake of family peace.
Darkness had already settled outside the window.
Small moths circled around the streetlights.
So tomorrow, huh.
With a strangely nervous feeling brought on by the unfamiliar surroundings, I closed my eyes.
Only the buzz of the air conditioner filled the room.
***
Sam’s SUV arrived exactly at 8:30 a.m.
Along with a short knock came his voice.
“Good morning! Hope you slept well.”
The same cheerful greeting as yesterday.
I loaded my suitcase and bag into the trunk and climbed into the back seat.
The old phone that had come with the envelope was handed back to Sam.
“Let’s get moving.”
The car headed north along Merrimack Trail.
We passed the Sunoco station I’d seen during my walk yesterday.
A little farther on, the forest grew denser.
The gaps between streetlights widened, and weeds had begun to creep up over the asphalt at the shoulders.
Aside from the occasional pickup truck, there was almost nothing on the road.
And at the end of that road appeared...
Barbed wire, fencing, and warning signs.
[U.S. Government Property — No Trespassing]
Screeeech—
The car slowed gradually.
Sam rolled down the window and held out his ID.
“Visiting.”
The soldier who took his identification glanced into the car.
I saw him check my face too before speaking into a radio.
A moment later, the barrier gate rose.
“Proceed.”
The car passed through the front gate and entered a two-lane road running through the woods.
There were trees on both sides, and between them, low brick buildings appeared one by one.
The place felt at least several decades old, like some old college campus.
As I looked out the window, Sam spoke to me through the rearview mirror.
“Out in Langley, they call this place The Farm. Back in the day, they really did raise pigs here, haha. Now, well, they’re raising people instead of pigs.”
He paused for a moment, then added in his cheerful voice,
“Welcome to Camp Peary, the CIA’s training facility, Lee.”