Seawolf Mask of Command by Cliff Happy Page B

eye opening experience. Moscow had been devoid of such misery, and while in Iran he’d seen that everything beyond the borders of North Korea were not the wasteland the Supreme Leaders had insisted. It had been in Moscow, while studying the Soviet Union’s rocket technology, that he’d first begun to question. Not that he could voice his thoughts in any way. In North Korea, after all, freedom of thought was the greatest crime. The regime knew what was best for the people who were to simply obey, smile, and be happy.
    “Good evening, Comrade General,” Choi greeted. General Cheong-In wasn’t here to check up on Choi’s health.
    “Might I walk with you this evening?” the general asked. He was short, even for a Korean, but unlike most of the people in Korea, the general clearly ate well as his protruding belly indicated.
    “You would be most welcome, Comrade,” Choi lied. He’d gotten quite good at it over the years.
    The general smiled and waved away the handlers, allowing him to speak privately with Choi as they walked. The handlers didn’t go far; they simply followed from a discreet distance. “How are you feeling, Doctor?”
    Choi had long ago grown tired of the inevitable question. “I am fine.” He gave the same answer he always did, both men knowing full well he was lying.
    The general wasted no time getting right to the point. “We need another test.”
    Choi exhaled tiredly as he turned down a sand and gravel road toward the rocky beach where he walked each night prior to retiring for the evening. “The last test was only partially successful,” he tried to explain.
    “We know,” the general replied.
    Choi was only too aware that the DPRK could hardly afford to waste limited resources retesting a flawed design and he said as much. “General, what would the point be in that? We have retrieved all the test data from the previous launch and have yet to correct the design flaws. The third stage separated, but the rocket barely reached orbit, and was off course when it did.”
    “I am well aware of the flaws,” the general insisted, “but we have our orders.”
    Choi didn’t understand. Not that he truly understood his country any longer. He’d long ago stopped trying to justify the actions of a regime he no longer believed in. But he asked, “Does this have anything to do with the mobilization orders?” He’d learned, quite by accident, that his country was mobilizing their entire army under the pretense of an exercise.
    “That is not your concern, Doctor,” the general reminded him.
    Choi had little to lose, and they couldn’t threaten him anymore. He briefly thought of his wife, and immediately felt the tightness in his chest. He missed her terribly. He looked wistfully out toward the sea, just a few hundred yards away, and again wondered if this night might be the night…
    “What is it, Doctor?” the general asked following the doctor’s gaze.
    “Another test will prove nothing and be a waste of State resources,” he argued gently, not really caring.
    “Regardless, you are to prepare all the rockets currently at Musudan-ri for immediate launch.”
    Choi suddenly felt alarm. As a child, he’d been taught that his country faced imminent invasion. It was the undeniable fact that the United States and their puppet regime’s in the south ultimate goal was to crush the DPRK and enslave the people there under the yoke of capitalism. He’d begun to doubt this rhetoric as he got older when the impending doom of invasion never materialized. But the general’s tone caused the old fear to well up with in him. “What has happened, Comrade General?”
    “Don’t concern yourself about things beyond your control, Doctor,” the general dutifully corrected. He then added in the event someone might be listening, “We all have our orders.”
    Choi had no access to the world outside North Korea. He could only listen to the official news broadcasts and read the government newspaper. None of