Chosin File

Arlington, Virginia

Arlington, Virginia

“He’s way the hell off the reservation.” The man who called himself Bayer dropped into a chair, stared into the electric flames in Chan’s fireplace, and sipped at the stiff scotch Shake had just poured for him. “Mike has run off the edge of the map and that makes me very nervous, for a couple of reasons.”

“That how come you wanted to meet at the house instead of the office?” Shake was fresh off a cross-country flight and drinking ice water to fend off grogginess. He reached down and scratched behind Bear’s floppy ears. The huge Golden Pyrenees nuzzled at Shake’s hand and whined for more attention. “It shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone in Clandestine Services that Mike goes his own way. He always has.”

“Mike’s good at what he does for us—none better in my opinion—but he tends to run too close to the edge. You know that better than I do from personal experience, Shake.”

“He’s got away about him, that’s for damn sure.” Shake decided he was sufficiently recovered for a drink and made his way to the bar thinking about his close calls with Mike Stokey in Vietnam and most recently in the South Pacific. “If you don’t like the way he operates, why don’t you just retire his ass? He’s getting too old for spook games in the field anyway.”

“I’ve been seriously considering that. I was going to discuss it with him personally when he got himself launched on this most recent thing. There comes a time with guys like Mike when they step over the line and either wind up dead or serving time in some dark, dank gulag as a pawn in a very embarrassing international power play.” Bayer polished off his drink and held out the glass. Chan got up to get him a refill, and Bear padded after her hoping for a treat from the jar they kept on the wet bar. Shake just sipped his drink and stared at the fire. There was no use pushing Bayer. He’d drop the other shoe when he was ready.

“You need to get a saddle for that damn dog, Shake.” Bayer watched the gentle giant sit with his muzzle resting on the top of the bar. “Either that or a bigger house so he can get a little exercise.”

“Bear’s a great shitbird deterrent.” Shake waved a hand in the general direction of the neighborhood. “We take him for a walk and he clears the area for blocks. Nobody screws with Mister Bear.”

Bayer thought for a moment and tugged at the knot in his tie. “What I say here goes no further. I guess I don’t have to tell you that. I’m not here in an official capacity because this situation hasn’t been reported up the political chain, and it needs to stay that way if possible.” Bayer leaned forward with his elbow on his knees and took a deep breath. “So, here’s the deal. Mike’s been involved with an investigation into North Korean nukes. He’s been at it for the past six months or so, working out of Seoul, mostly. A couple of weeks ago, he inserted into the Liaoning Province of southeastern China to help set up a drone reconnaissance operation.”

“That’s part of what used to be called Manchuria, right?” Chan handed Bayer a fresh drink and dropped into a chair with a glass of chilled Chablis. “Was this with or without Chinese cooperation?”

“Unofficial all the way. We’ve got a sort of understanding with some people in the PLA.” Bayer sipped his drink and seemed to be pondering how to phrase what he wanted to communicate. “I can’t get into the weeds with you on this but we’ve been running a surveillance program way under the radar—and by that I mean without any Congressional or State Department oversight at all. We’re on the good side of certain high-level Chinese military assets that want no part of a nuclear armed North Korea. They can’t cooperate with us in the open, but they can turn a blind eye to a little drone base just across the Yalu from their troublesome neighbors. We use that secret site to launch a UAV over specific areas we want to investigate, and share the Intel that’s developed. It’s a win-win for the PLA and nothing gets reported officially to their civilian bosses in Beijing.”

“And just as crucial for you, I’d guess…” Chan grinned at Bayer, sharing a little humor among intelligence insiders. “…is that neither the President nor the Secretary of State gets wind of you guys conducting a sub-rosa, non-sanctioned operation with the Chinese—not to mention sharing the Intel dump. They would not be pleased.”

“I think it’s safe to say that’s an accurate assessment of the situation.” Bayer was not grinning. “The thinking at certain levels in the community was that taking the risk involved was better than getting caught with our pants down should the North Koreans do something stupid. The situation in that country is desperate, and they don’t have the best international track record for restraint. The politicians may have other priorities, but Intelligence professionals need to stay focused on real threats. As you’re aware, that sometimes means doing what’s necessary to protect the nation whether those actions are officially sanctioned or not.”

“When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro,” Shake chuckled. “So you guys set up this unofficial recon base and run the op off the record. It ain’t the first time and it won’t be the last, I guess. Aren’t drones mostly flown and controlled from sites here in CONUS? How come you need a base in China?”

“Too few assets and too many demands.” Chan sipped at her wine and got the nod from Bayer. “The long-range, highendurance drones controlled out of Creech in Nevada are major theater combat assets. Everybody wants time on targets within their area of operations, and priority goes to the Middle East right now. The high-level national Intel demands from CIA, DIA and the like get laid off on satellite reconnaissance assets, but that’s usually a cat-fight between the agencies for time on the birds.”

“The quick-fix is to station a smaller UAV nearer the target and control it in theater.” Bayer popped the latches on his briefcase and spread a map of the Korean Peninsula on the coffee table. “We very quietly brought a stealthy, off-the-inventory reconnaissance drone into Seoul with the mission of getting it, plus a small control and support crew, up around the Yalu to over-fly specific areas in North Korea. As our Korean or Chinese assets fed us Intel, we could get the drone over the area and get a good idea of what was or was not happening with the North Korean nuke projects. That’s what Mike was working on—last we heard from him.”

“When was that?” Shake bent to look at the map and recognized some of the terrain. It was an area very familiar to Marines who knew anything about the Korean War—and that was all Marines from their first history class in boot camp.

“Six days ago.” Bayer spun the map and pointed at a spot on the Chinese side of the Yalu River. “Mike was the contact guy with our North Korean assets. He cobbled together Intel from agents in Pyongyang, and then helped develop targets for surveillance. Apparently, something tripped his trigger, but he didn’t bother reporting anything to me. I found out he was gone when I heard from our guy running the UAV out there. That’s d**k Liccardi, a former Air Force tech-Intel guy and one of the best drone drivers in the business. d**k says Stokey crossed the Yalu with a couple of Koreans he had on the payroll and headed for this area right here.”

Shake and Chan leaned over the coffee table and stared at the map. “I think I know what tripped Mike’s trigger.” Shake pointed at a patch of blue just east of the spot marked by Bayer’s finger. “That’s the infamous Chosin Reservoir. Back in the winter of 1950, the entire 1st Marine Division was trapped up there, surrounded by a pot-full of pissed off Chinese. They had to fight their way out…” Shake traced a line on the map running in a southeasterly direction. ”…from up here at Yudam-ni all the way back to Hungnam, and then eventually to the port of Wonsan where they were evacuated. It’s a huge deal in Marine Corps history: The Frozen Chosin in the Freezin’ Season, an epic fighting withdrawal. Every Marine studies that fight.”

“Well, all that’s interesting, but I believe Stokey was motivated by something more than a nostalgic trip to an old Marine Corps battlefield. Liccardi reports they ran three missions over the area at Mike’s specific request. I’ve been all over the data and photo-imagery with the experts: Nothing but water in the reservoir and a bunch of snow-capped mountains on either side of it. There’s a hydroelectric plant to the north and a few settlements for the people who presumably keep it running. Some trucks running in and out of there but that’s hardly unusual—or suspicious. I think Mike got wind of something else happening in that area and decided to check it out personally— in defiance of strict orders to the contrary.”

“And the telemetry shows no sign of nuclear activity?” Chan was suddenly in full analyst mode. “I’m presuming you had the UAV rigged with the appropriate sensor packages?”

“Yes—and it was working for the other sites we investigated. There was just nothing suspicious from the over-flights in or around Chosin—or what the NK’s call Changjin. I’m betting Mike was working on human intelligence, something he got from an agent on the ground. And I’ve been hoping for the past week we’d either hear from him or he’d get back across the Yalu for the reprimand he so richly deserves.”

Shake sat back and thought about a very dangerous and nearly disastrous mission he’d run just three years before retiring from active duty. The real reason for Bayer’s unofficial visit was becoming clearer by the minute. “I’m guessing you want someone who is familiar with the area to go looking for Mike. And that someone would have to be both unofficial and deniable if he gets caught operating in North Korea.”

“Whoa—just stop right there.” Chan smacked her wine glass on the coffee table hard enough to crack the delicate stem. “First it was Vietnam, and then it was that deal out on Peleliu. Every time you get your ass in a crack, you reach out for Shake and he damn near gets killed doing dirty work he’s got no business being involved in. Well, I’ve got news for you. Shake Davis is an old retired poop and he’s not about to go into North Korea for you or anybody else. Mike Stokey can pull his own damn fat out of the fire this time!”

“Easy, Chan.” Shake put one hand on her knee and scratched at Bear’s ears with the other. The dog was sensing trouble and, for that matter, so was he. “Let him finish before you tear his head off.”

“I know all about Iceberg, Shake.” Bayer glanced over at Chan to see if she recognized the code word. Apparently, she didn’t. Chan sat with her arms crossed and a very angry look on her face. Bayer shrugged and nodded at Shake. “You want to tell her?”

“Operation Iceberg…” Shake swallowed what was left in his glass and set it down on a coaster. “It was while I was doing a 3rd Force Recon tour out in West Pac. We got sent down to Korea to work with a long-range patrol outfit called the Imjin Scouts, part of the Army’s 2nd Infantry Division. We had some South Korean Special Forces augments, and we were just running little crossborder deals up along the DMZ to keep the North Korean commies honest. The serious recon stuff was being done by Air Force SR-71 Blackbirds and U-2’s flying out of Okinawa. We were fat, dumb and happy until one of the U-2 drivers had to ditch. They got the pilot, but there was a lot of highly classified s**t scattered all over around the Chosin Reservoir area. We got alerted to get up there very quietly, and either recover the important pieces or destroy it all in place.”

“You never mentioned any of that.” Chan got up to replace her wine glass, feed Bear a treat, and try to calm down a little. “I don’t remember anything from any of the classified files I’ve read. And I’ve read almost everything I could about the weird crap you did on active duty. How do you explain that?”

“Well—things did not go exactly as planned. And I’m guessing the potential for an international s**t-storm got most of the official reports dumped into a shredder as soon as they were submitted.”