Part 28: Force Ten from Panmunjom

The camera clicked, though Shouta was not consciously aware of depressing the shutter release. Probably it was the convulsion of his fingers, reacting to the thunder in his ears, which caused it. A movement at the edge of his vision pulled his eyes to the left, as one of the convention center's police guards went tumbling bump-bump-bump down the steps.

"Get inside!"

Suddenly he was yanked back, spun around and propelled headlong through the open door into the center. Anemic pistol shots sounded behind him as the second officer made a valiant last stand. The reporter stumbled, fumbling to get his glasses back into place. The chevron-shaped reception desk in front of him was already deserted, and the heavy doors at the end of the hall behind it, which had stood invitingly open when he ducked inside to use the restroom an hour ago, were now closed.

Kang Li and her followers were coming from that direction. "They've barred it," she barked, cutting towards Shouta's right. "Over here!" The soldier barreled into the men's room, her aide in the Afghanka and the two rather revolted Arume close behind.

There being no obvious alternative, Shouta ran after them. Yoshimura-senpai, what do I do now?

Are they after me?

Mari possessed no proof of it, but she would rule out nothing after the near-miss in Rovaniemi. If the Arume identified her, she thought, it would not be beyond them to arrange a grand show for the camouflaging of her eradication. Yui had assured her that the aliens would hesitate to attack while she was under the aegis of the man with the single eye and the unpredictable temper, but was it true?

She put the question aside as she chased after Kang, weaving through the S-bend partition which separated the restroom from the hall. Though she loathed to put herself in a dead end, she understood the colonel's thinking: if one's opponents had the range advantage, one's best chances were in nullifying that advantage. When Kang spun out of line and flattened herself against the wall on the right side of the restroom entrance, Mari took the opposite place. Negadael and Eripol wore identical expressions of distress as they ran down the line of toilet stalls and hid themselves at the far end. The effeminate man with the camera and the large glasses copied them, sans the grimace. Those three weren't likely to be much use, but at least they were quick enough to get out of the way.

All right, the hunter told herself, breathing deeply. Now we find out if Sambo actually works.

Koreans?

The gunfire outside ended, and a storm of footfalls and curt shouts took its place. Kang listened intently, to little avail: she had picked up bits of the language during a brief posting in Yanbian, but that was civilian street talk, not military jargon. Even if she were correct, it didn't make sense – Korea might be formally hostile towards the Arume and their clients, but would that peninsular nation go so far as to launch a surprise attack on the soil of its own ally, and in full view of the UN itself?

She would find out soon enough: it sounded like a sweep of the restrooms was imminent. The colonel braced herself and wound up to strike the first blow. Sawakaze ducked, cocking an arm to take second place. Good, Kang thought. She knows how this works. The footsteps grew louder, and her pulse with them. Any moment now...

"HUNGH!" Thwack!

Shouta covered his head at the noise of the blow. There was a scuffle, a burst of gunfire, then another burst. As the man debated whether to steal a peek around the corner of the stall which concealed him, he heard a longer burst and then a harsh silence.

What's going on? Are they coming for us next?

"Eripol, Negadael, are you all right?"

"We're fine, Colonel."

"What about that man?"

The stall door swung open, Shouta having forgotten to lock it. "He's fine too," the Arume on the other side reported. "Is it safe?"

"Not very." There was a muffled thump, as of some object being set down. "Stay in the rear and keep quiet."

Curiosity began to override Shouta's fear, and he climbed down from his perch on the ceramic throne. Leaving the stall, he saw Kang dragging a dead soldier into the corner opposite the sinks, leaving a long streak of blood on the brown tiled floor. A second corpse lay there already, and the Chinese woman had appropriated one apiece of the attackers' helmets and automatic rifles, as well as a pair of bulbous hand grenades. She cast a glance towards Shouta and the two aliens, then disappeared into the entryway, her expression unreadable.

"Well?"

"Maybe ten more in the lobby," the Japanese female muttered. "Didn't get a good look."

Ten. Two dead in the men's room, plus two more whom Mariko had mowed down in the entrance of the women's room across the hall, and there were still so many left. With these odds, a few grenades were all it would take to flush out the defenders and finish the invasion.

Let's hope they don't know that.

Kang edged closer to the opening, her back against the wall and her weapon gripped tightly. As her ears recovered from the jarring effects of muzzle blast in a confined space, the officer could hear a murmur of voices: enemies communicating by radio. She waited a few seconds, then pulled out her phone. If it were able to access the local cellular network, she could call in some backup of her own. Her thumb was on the second digit when the handset began to vibrate, the little screen filling with a well-known string of characters. "...Schuhart?"

"Colonel, look out – there's twenty Norks coming in through the back."

"We met some at the front," Kang muttered tersely. "Where are you?"

"In the parking garage behind the convention center. They didn't make a thorough sweep. What about you?"

"In the women's toilets beside the lobby. We captured two AKMs and some grenades, but our ammunition won't last long. You need to get away and warn the authorities that KPA remnants – "

"Like hell. I'm not leaving you and Mariko in there."

"There's no alternative," Kang hissed. "You don't have a – " She broke off as a sharp click came out of the phone. "...You do?"

"A Six-P-Nine, a muffler and four mags. I'm moving as soon as I get it assembled." There was another click and a scrape of metal on metal. "Should be enough to swipe something bigger, maybe keep these assholes busy for a bit."

"I can't stop you," the short-haired woman sighed, "can I?"

"No, but I'll be good and call for help before I go in. Can I send someone over to Liaison HQ for co-ops?"

"You can. I'll try to get through and let them know... And Schuhart, please don't do anything stupid."

"I know, I know. Stay alive, y'all."

"He's incorrigible," the exasperated veteran declared. She started to redial the original number, only to falter as an unfamiliar feeling began to well up in the basin of her pelvis. It started as a point and spread in a matter of seconds, until she felt as though her whole womb was being bathed in warm oil. The soldier's eyes widened. It's happening right now?

"Incoming." The brusque announcement was Mariko's only warning before she swung the Kalashnikov around the corner. Pokh! Pokh-pokh-pokh! Pokh-pokh! "...Wounded one," she concluded, withdrawing as return fire blasted tile shards and chips of grout off the wall on the other side of the entry. "Colonel? Colonel, are you hit?"

Kang, caught between the changes within her body and the suddenness of the repulsed attack, could only shake her head.

"Cramps?" Mariko pressed.

"No... No, it's nothing." The mother to be straightened, plastering a mask of composure over her troubled face. On the third try, the call went through.

War Room

SAL HQ, Guangzhou

"...They're being attacked by a country which doesn't exist?"

"In a manner of speaking." Daemon clicked a button on the wireless remote in his hand, bringing up a map of the Korean peninsula on the broad screen in front of Renaril's chair. "The Democratic People's Republic of Korea – which, I should remind you, was neither democratic nor for the people – effectively ceased to function six years ago, when its leader died of complications from a stroke. While his sons and generals fought indecisively for control, the forces of the Republic of Korea crossed the demilitarized zone and occupied the north."

This was all very abstract for Renaril, and being sick with guilt and worry didn't help a whit. If I hadn't been in the shower so long, she lamented to herself, I would have been there when she called!

"Most of the population has grudgingly accepted reunification," the black man continued, indifferent to his audience's anxiety. "However a large portion of the Korean People's Army and Worker-Peasant Red Guard fled across the border into China, taking significant technical and cultural assets of the country with them. It would appear that during the intervening years these exiles have thoroughly infiltrated enemy territory. Since their attacks are primarily directed against the governmental institutes of Seoul and Tokyo-Two, it is probable that retaliation is a factor."

"Then why are they also attacking Shanghai?" the Arume asked. "Korea and Japan I understand, but why their own ally? What did China do?"

"Nothing," Daemon replied, "and that might be the precise cause. North Korea was a small, isolated and impoverished nation, and after Second Impact its defense strategy became dependent on the assumption that China would intervene in the event of a South Korean attack." He paused to brush away a speck of something on his spectacles. "When the attack came, intervention was neither politically nor economically feasible. Beijing did nothing."

"They believe China betrayed them?"

"So it would seem."

"But China was their ally for a long time, wasn't it?" Renaril tried to put a hopeful spin on the facts. "If they capture the colonel, wouldn't they spare her?"

"Unlikely," the Anglo-African opined. "Kang Li despises the Juche ideology. They know she is no friend of theirs... That they have not attacked the Liaison may be purely a problem of opportunity."

Fuck. Renaril slumped, elbows on knees. Why is this happening? Why?

Twenty-three minutes.

The tension was eating away at Shouta's composure like battery acid on steel. There had been three more attacks, twice with rifles and once with grenades. Kang and Mariko repelled each as it came, but it was clear to all parties that they couldn't hold the line indefinitely. And then? the journalist thought morosely. Then it will all be over.

He wondered where Razael was now. Lying in a pool of sickly white, as likely as anything – the fleeing receptionists hadn't saved themselves by blocking the doors. They were probably dead as well, shot in cold blood by the soldiers coming from the rear.

"Stop fooling around. I hate it when people do that."

Shouta smiled to himself weakly: if she were here, she'd be saying exactly that. Razael's attitude was one thing about her which hadn't much changed since the days when she made his life a living hell. She would be right, too: it did no good to sit around and stare at himself in the mirror. Finding motivation in this, he stood up, brushed off his trousers and went to see what was going on.

Negadael and Eripol were crouched behind Kang and Mariko, though to Shouta it looked as if they offered no real help. "Ano..." Oops. "Excuse me..."

Mariko spoke without looking at him. "Problem?"

"No," the man whispered hurriedly. "What is happening?"

"The enemy is agitated, yet holding back. That's all."

"Is there any news from outside?"

"None."

Kang checked her wristwatch. "We're due for a check-in," she announced, taking up her cellphone. Under the cool light of its little display, Shouta saw sudden dismay on the military woman's face. "'Service not available'..? Ni ge gou pi!"

"...They will be dead if you don't get a bloody move on!" A mighty crash resounded throughout the war room as Daemon slammed the telephone handset back into its cradle. "Bureaucrats," he muttered furiously. "Don't know who's in command, won't take the initiative on their own."

That could have been directed at Renaril herself, not just the Japanese, but she opted not to acknowledge it. "The Diet... It's true?"

Daemon nodded. "A slaughterhouse." He fiddled with the remote, placing an archival satellite photograph of the capital square on the big screen. "There's one piece of good news, at least: security troops at the UN tower have prevented the North Koreans from breaking out of the ground floor. Hopefully they will be able to hold out until relieved."

Renaril was still trying to understand where it had all gone wrong. An hour ago she was as happy as she could ever remember being, with a position that was finally accruing respect, a beautiful woman to share her nights with, and the promise of a family on the horizon. Now she stood to lose two of her three prizes, and the third would not endure without the others. Pulling her attention away from the photo, she looked down at the papers scattered on the table. At her elbow was the hot item: a transcript of the Korean exiles' declaration of war, delivered by phone to an Osaka TV studio sixteen minutes ago. To her eyes it was full of garbage, an insane rant about restoring the glory of their 'eternal' leader and his twisted doctrines, but it gave her an insight into Kang's hatred of the Kim regime, those feelings of which the alien's lover had been so reticent in person.

Oh, Li... What can I do?

The answer – she wasn't sure why she imagined it in Daemon's voice – was 'not bloody much'. Even if she ordered the bombers and the paratroopers to take off, and even if they were ready to leave immediately, they wouldn't get to Japan in time to make a difference. The political consequences of that course would be substantial, to say the least.

There was a verbal report from one of the Arume operators stationed at the head of the room, but Renaril didn't register it clearly. Since Daemon didn't prompt her, she assumed it was trivial and went back to staring at the papers. It was probably for the best that Schuhart had loaned her the man: the group commander was painfully aware that she would have been hard pressed to keep up with the crisis on her own. Her promise to Kang that she would try harder was sincere, of course it was, but this trouble came much too soon for the white-haired one to make good on her words.

"How can you hope to get what you want if you're too timid even to ask for it?"

Was it only two nights since she declared her intent towards the woman on whom she was so fixated? Would the dream die so young?

The Eto Delo operator who had accompanied Daemon suddenly perked up behind his laptop. "Tovarishch Praporshchik!" he cried. "We have communication from Tovarishch Politruk!"

"About time," the Briton replied. "Put it on speaker mode."

"Done."

Daemon cleared his throat. "Daemon here."

"Is that everyone? Great." There was a frayed quality in Schuhart's voice that Renaril hadn't heard since the battle in Hong Kong. "Bad news first – I can't get through to the colonel any more. I don't know if she switched off her phone or there's a problem with the cell net."

"We were waiting to hear from her," Daemon volunteered, "but that may have been a poor judgment. Nereus?"

"The Tokyo-Two civilian network went offline," the Eto Delo chief engineer reported. "We have an unconfirmed report of sabotage."

"Figures," the arms dealer chuckled humorlessly. "Good thing I stuck with satellites."

Renaril wasn't in the mood for this. "What's the good news?" she demanded.

"I'm in, and it's not as bad as I thought. I found a couple of dead cops and a couple of dead secretary-types, but the delegates and the other guards have barricaded themselves in the conference rooms. Looks like the Norks ignored them."

Daemon frowned. "They ignored the delegates?"

"So far, yeah. Heard anything from the sky eyes in there?"

"We had brief contact with three Arume. They intend to stay put until rescue arrives."

"Smart choice... Anyway, the baddies left a four-man MG nest at the back door and the rest went upstairs to the second-floor terrace. I think they're setting up overwatch for the other assault teams."

"Where does that leave you?"

"I took out the nest already – didn't guard their flanks too well. That got me... Just a sec... That got me two AKs, an RPD with three cans, an SKS with a cutoff and spigot, a funny Tokarev and four F-Ones. Stuff's all DPRK-built... Oh, and two five-shot New Nambus from the dead cops. I found some papers on one of the targets, but I can't read 'em."

"It's enough," Daemon stated. "What's your assessment?"

"Well... If we can act fast, I think we could sneak all the delegates out through the back."

"You would need additional transportation."

"Nah – the Norks kindly left me a pristine GAZ Sixty-Six with the tanks three-quarters full... We'll need somebody to keep the jerks on the terrace occupied, but Nereus tells me the local backup is taking its sweet time getting here."

"That does seem to be the major problem."

"Tell me about it. I gather things are worse across the gardens."

Renaril didn't give a damn what was happening across the gardens. "Can't you deal with the enemies on the roof?"

"Sorry, but no. Four-on-one I could handle, but sixteen-plus is too much... I reckon the best thing, now that I've taken this chance to pilfer a goat, is to save Zhao by attacking Wei with a borrowed knife."

"...Huh?"

"I thought Kang was teaching you the classics." Schuhart sounded disproportionately annoyed. "It means I'm going to fight the enemy with their own gear and bail out your beloved colonel, dammit."

The group commander's heart leaped. "You really mean that?"

"Schuhart – "

"It's okay, Daemon, I've got an idea... I'll call you again when I get there."

Daemon looked neither assured nor mollified, but whatever complaint he wanted to file was blocked when Renaril slapped her palms down on the tabletop. "Mister Daemon," she said sternly, "please inform the bureaucrats that if an appreciable response is not made in the next ten minutes, we will disregard all concerns of jurisdiction and act independently."

"Are you sure, Group Commander? Committing Liaison forces would – "

"I'm not going to use forime troops," Renaril interrupted. It was as if a switch had been tripped, converting the alien's despair into purposeful energy. "Tell them that if they won't act, we Arume will."

Daemon shrugged and went to carry out her bidding. The operators just kept their heads down and prayed that this swing towards a resolute mood would carry their leader through to the end of the crisis.

"It's been forty minutes. How many rounds have you got left?"

Mariko hefted her rifle, then checked the one magazine left in her pouch. "...Maybe fifty. You?"

"The same." Kang tensed, listening for clues to the enemy's next move as the voices outside rose angrily. "More of them..!"

Shouta shrank into a defensive huddle. Oh no...

He wasn't alone in his evaluation. "Colonel?" Eripol whispered. "Whatever happens, I'm glad I was able to serve with you."

"I appreciate the sentiment." Snik-chak! "Get back."

Shouta held his breath. Kenzou-kun, Ma-chan, Kotoko... Razael... goodbye!

"..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

Mariko relaxed slightly. "...Second thoughts?"

"FIRE! IN! THE HOLE!"

Shouta heard a muffled pop, a whizz and then a loud bang. The disturbance brought a sudden end to the Joseon hubbub, but in its place there was a man incongruously singing: "Steh auuuuuf, steh auf du Riesen-land... Herauuuuus zur grossen Schlacht!"

"Finally," Kang muttered.

"Den Naaaaazihorden wieder-stand... Tod deeeer Faschisten-macht..."

The reporter's curiosity again started to subsume his wariness. He scooted forwards to get a better vantage point, bits of tile crunching underfoot, even as a crash of rifle fire blotted out the next stanza. What strange tactic was this?

"...Es bre-che uber sie der Zorn... Die fiiiiinst're Flut hereeeeein..." Now there was even more shooting, but the man only sang louder. "Das soooooll der Krieg des Volkes... Der Kriiiiieg der Menschheit sein!"

Mariko made a lemon-sucker face. "What the..?"

"Den Wuuuuur-gern bieten wir die Stirn... Den Mooooordern der Ideen..."

Somehow the bizarre interlude made sense to Shouta: the singing drew the enemy's fire away from the trapped man and women, and told him and the others where their ally was. It also confirmed that the aggressors' projectiles weren't hitting their mark.

"Die Peiniger und Plunderer..."

And then he saw it: a wide service trolley, slowly rolling broadside-on towards the lobby. It wore a crude armor skirt of metal trays affixed with duct tape, and the inside and top shelves were piled high with garishly labeled sacks of dry plaster. There was a machine gun resting behind the uppermost pile, its barrel pointing at the far wall.

"...Sie mussen untergehen!"

Behind the trolley crouched a large man, blond-haired and round-shouldered. He had a carbine of some sort slung across his back and pineapple-shaped grenades hanging from the front of his brown vest. As Shouta looked on, he stopped pushing and dug in his heels, bringing his shield to a halt. When he looked towards them, Shouta further saw that he had only one eye. "Sound off, Colonel!"

"We're all right!" Kang shouted back. "Do you have ammunition?"

"Brought everything I've got." The man pulled out a large bundle from the bottom shelf, wrapped in what looked like a curtain and tied with a thin rope. "Here!"

He flung the long tail of the rope towards Kang and Mariko, then sprang up and seized the machine gun. Mariko hauled in the bundle as the man raked the lobby with a long stream of bullets. Shouta moved out of her way, a bump against his chest reminding him of his dusty but miraculously intact camera. Might as well finish this roll, he thought gamely, and started snapping pictures as the package was opened. Inside it were two extra assault rifles, magazines with stamped ribs and banana-like curves, and more hand grenades.

"This is good," Mariko called, passing a magazine pouch to Kang as the trolley man ceased fire, "but we could use more!"

"Working on it." The man ducked, gripped the corner struts of the hoplite handcart and dragged it sluggishly sidewards until it was up against the wall beside the women's restroom. He took a few seconds to divest some bags and pouches of his own, tossed them onto the trolley's vacated shelf and scooted over to the dead soldiers in the doorway.

At that moment Shouta came to the end of his roll. Crap! he cursed silently, frantically spinning the film winder. I'll miss something important!

"The reception desk is trashed," the big man casually remarked as he looted the corpses. "Was that you guys?"

"Mostly." Kang took a grenade from the delivery bundle, yanked the pin and hurled it towards the front doors. "Frag out!"

The blast rattled Shouta's ears as he popped the back of the Olympus open and dumped out the used film. Dropping it into his breast pocket, he hastily dug up a fresh canister and pried the lid off with his thumb. Come on, come on!

The colonel followed up on the little bomb with a rapid volley. "Schuhart," she grunted, taking cover. "I told you not to do anything stupid!"

"Stupid?" The rescuer threw an unloaded weapon onto his trolley. "What was stupid?"

Looking up from the camera, Shouta saw Kang grit her teeth. "Rifle grenades are not for indoor use!"

"It worked, didn't it? ...Anyway," the self-styled bombardier added petulantly, stuffing a liberated magazine into a liberated pouch, "I like them." He straightened, holding a pouch in each hand. "More ammo for you... Hup!"

Mariko caught the first pack as it sailed across the hall, snatching up the second when it landed. "Take these," she ordered, handing them to the Arume in the back. "Schuhart, what about yourself?"

That person was already unlimbering his carbine. "I'm good."

So am I. Shouta captured a hasty photo as the American – he was pretty sure about the accent, at least – fired diagonally across the plaster bags.

"I think that was the last one." Trolley-man ducked, whipping out a set of cartridges on a metal clip.

"There will be more," Mariko warned.

"I know." The empty clip fell with a high ting-g-g! "Intel says there's Norks all over the gardens. We'd better pull back."

"Agreed," said Kang. "Are you ready?"

"Just a sec." The latecomer re-slung his carbine and picked up the machine gun. Dropping its underslung ammunition can with a loud clunk, he grabbed another from the trolley. "...Okay, done. Let's go!"

Kang and Mariko eased out of their cover, keeping their muzzles aimed towards the entrance of the center. "Spread out," the latter instructed Shouta and the Arume. "Don't bunch together."

Shouta obeyed, still photographing the scene as many times as possible. Negadael and Eripol armed themselves with the spare rifles, their movements clumsy and unpracticed, and placed themselves between the Terran women. The other man, Schuhart, pulled the armored trolley away from the wall and turned it around. "Keep an eye on the front," he cautioned, pushing it back towards the doors at hall's end. "There are still Norks on the roof."

The Chinese woman walked backwards, glancing behind herself every few seconds. "How many?"

"Sixteen, seventeen, maybe a few more."

Mariko shot him an incredulous look. "You just left them?"

"It was them or you," Schuhart snapped. As the trolley passed the troublesome doors, he let go of it and went to swing the left half shut. Eripol closed the other leaf, and Schuhart secured the portal by sliding the shaft of a heavy-looking brass light fixture through the double handles. "That'll slow 'em down for a few minutes," said he. "You there, with the glasses – your name is..?"

"Ya-Yanami..."

"Yakkun. Come over here and push this, would you?"

The offworlder balked at both the nickname and the assignment, but did as he was asked. The trolley was very heavy, even when the one-eyed man removed the machine gun from its load, but the wheels were well-oiled and Shouta's burden lessened once he overcame the starting inertia. Schuhart meanwhile joined the others in checking every corner, alcove and junction for lurking enemies. Thankfully there were none.

"It's quiet," Negadael ventured after a minute.

"Yeah." Schuhart conjured up his phone. "Hey, pretty good signal here." He dialed and put the handset to his ear. "It's me... First mission accomplished. I linked up with the others and we're withdrawing through the convention center. How's that fire support coming along? ...As soon as you can, please. Group Commander, are you there?"

Please have good news!

"I'm here," the alien affirmed, "I'm right here."

"Good. Stand by for the colonel."

"...Renaril?"

Blissful relief washed over the slender female. "You're not hurt?"

"No, I'm all right... Renaril, I – I felt it."

Despite all the excitement, she hadn't for one moment forgotten. "Really? You're sure?"

"Definitely."

There was so much Renaril had intended to say when this moment came, but somehow it no longer seemed important. "I'm glad," she said softly. "Take care, Li."