Chapter 18

Alfred had visited North Korea only a few times before. Obviously, he'd been there during the Korean War, but he didn't really count that. He'd been once around the signing of the armistice, once for the signing of the Agreed Framework, and then the most recent trip—but he'd never been as a tourist. For the longest time, it had been illegal for Americans to tour North Korea anyway.

Visiting as a tourist was something he knew North wouldn't expect. How many Americans had any desire to visit North Korea anyway? Only the adventurous, the thrill seekers—and the crazy, as some would argue. Maybe Alfred was a bit crazy for considering this.

But, he was running out of options. He had to try something drastic if he wanted to get North's attention before it was too late.

All travel to North Korea had to be done through a travel agency, so Alfred began looking for more information on how to travel there as a tourist. Most of the tour packages he found had only an itinerary and promised further details only after he'd signed up. Well, since Alfred had already decided he was going, he decided he might as well.

He began looking at dates, and he found what may have been perfect—a one week tour starting in late February. It was after the Dear Leader's birthday, which was celebrated as a national holiday in North Korea, but before the start of joint military drills Alfred's government had set up with Yong Soo's, which he was sure North was bound to throw a fit over. If he could be in North Korea before those drills happened, perhaps he could keep North calm and prevent a conflict over them, similarly to what he'd done last time he'd been there.

Eager to get the ball rolling, Alfred booked the trip and started getting his affairs in order. A few days after booking, he received an email from the travel agency with more details explaining what not to do in North Korea, as well as how to go about getting to the North Korean embassy in Beijing and getting his visa. It was all stuff he'd been through before, but he read it anyway, determined to have everything go smoothly.

That happened to involve not telling Obama.

Alfred was afraid if Obama ever caught wind of the plan to travel to North Korea, he'd pull the plug. Alfred may have been the United States of America, but Obama was still the president. If he found out Alfred was doing something he didn't approve of, he would try to do something about it, whether that meant sending out the FBI or freezing Alfred's bank account or cancelling his unrestricted access to get pretty much anywhere, anytime. It was like having an overprotective parent—except when Alfred misbehaved, he got grounded by the president.

Knowing this, Alfred kept the plan a secret. He made sure to pay for the trip out of his personal account—which was full of money earned from crop and livestock sales from his ranch down in Texas—to reduce the chances of the president finding out. He continued to do paperwork as normal, neither trying to get ahead nor falling too far behind. He carried on as if everything was normal, though he continued to keep up with North Korea news in secret—just in case something big happened that could jeopardize the trip.

It seemed to be business as usual for the North Koreans—anger over the planned drills, asking for aid to feed hungry citizens, and isolation.

When the day finally came for Alfred to board a plane to Beijing, he did so without telling anyone where he was going. He had packed enough clothes for a few days in Beijing while the visa paperwork got processed, plus a week in North Korea. His phone was in his pocket, but he dreaded checking it, fearing the moment he did would be the moment he got a text or a call saying he was needed at the White House. What was he supposed to say? "Sorry, boss, I'm on an unannounced vacation"? Well, thinking about it, that was probably exactly what he was going to have to say. Eventually, he was going to have to tell someone where he was going, in case something happened and he got stuck. There was no calling for help once his phone got taken at North Korean customs.

His first two days in Beijing went off without a hitch. Alfred's plane landed on time and he got checked into a nearby hotel. On the first day he went to the creepy, prison-like building that housed the North Korean embassy and got his visa paperwork taken care of. The staff must have been rotated since the last time he was there, because no one recognized him. Either that, or they were too busy taking care of other tourists arriving for the same tour to notice. His time after that was spent exploring the less touristy parts of Beijing that he hadn't yet seen.

The trouble came when it was time to go back to the embassy to pick up his visa.

"Denied," the Korean behind the reception desk said as he pulled up Alfred's name on the computer.

"What?" Alfred asked, fearing now that he wouldn't even make it into North Korea. "Why?"

"You're political," the man answered, shoving Alfred's passport back towards him across the desk. "Need special clearance."

Great, Alfred thought. Did all the people at the embassy know who he was now? Did North distribute a "no entry" list to the staff to make sure no one he hated like got into his country?

"I'm just a tourist!" Alfred protested. "I'm not a president or a senator or anything. How is that political?"

The Korean pulled up something on his computer screen. "You came with Richardson. Political visit."

Well, maybe the staff didn't exactly know that Alfred was the literal embodiment of America, but the fact that he'd been to their country on political business once and was back again so soon must have looked suspicious enough to deny him entry. But Alfred wasn't ready to give up yet.

"There must be some mistake," Alfred lied, pulling out his phone. "I should have special clearance. I've got a buddy named—" Shit. He'd never tried to pronounce North's name without hearing it from someone else first. "—Sang Kyu," he said, drawing out the A and hoping it was right. It would be embarrassing to claim North was his "buddy" and not even say his name right. "I should have had clearance from him. I've got his number here if you need to call him."

The man behind the desk stared at Alfred skeptically from behind the rims of his 70's-style glasses. "Please wait here," he said, grabbing Alfred's passport off the desk once more and disappearing into a back room, presumably to make a phone call or ask someone in a higher position than himself if Alfred was supposed to have entry access. Alfred waited patiently, trying to look like he knew he was in the right for any staff members or cameras that might be watching him. He'd come this far, so he didn't want do not make it to North Korea. At least, even if he didn't, it seemed unlikely that North would ignore Alfred specifically saying that it had been him who granted Alfred access. Alfred's phone felt heavy in his hand, and he secretly hoped it would buzz with a call from North. At least it would force North to talk to him.

A long ten minutes later, the man returned with Alfred's passport and a visa, which he stuck in the back.

"You've been cleared," he said in a tone that gave Alfred the feeling he didn't agree with the decision. Alfred smiled and thanked him anyway, then returned to his hotel to prepare to board a plane for Pyongyang the next day.

When the time finally came for him to board his plane, Alfred felt apprehension bubbling deep in his stomach. Had it really been North who had approved his visit? If so, why? As he settled into the rickety seat aboard the old Air Koryo plane, he was suddenly reminded of the fact that his phone would soon be taken from him, and that after that he would be cut off from the outside world. It was time to send that message to the president.

Alfred: by the way, I'm going to north korea for a week. just so you know where I am if I'm not back in a week.

Alfred: and I'm not kidding either.

Possibly against his better judgement, Alfred turned his phone off after that. He didn't want to get a message back that might change his mind about going through with this. He was in too deep. It was radio silence from here on out.

The flight was smooth and so was the landing. It was a clear, sunny afternoon in Pyongyang. The plane, full of Chinese and English and other Americans who were surely in Alfred's tour group, began to unload. Four North Koreans in formal civilian attire approached the group and introduced themselves as guides. Alfred didn't recognize any of them, and he wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. Him talking to North depended a little on someone reporting his arrival. Then again, if North had approved his visit yesterday, he probably already knew where to find Alfred.

After everyone's luggage had been unloaded, the group left the tarmac and entered the terminal, where they lined up to go through customs. When Alfred handed over his passport and phone, the customs official took one look at it and clicked his tongue.

"I know you," he said in a heavily accented voice. Alfred resisted the urge to smile. Someone had clearly been told to look out for him. The official called over another worker, who asked Alfred to step out of line and follow him to a small room off to the side. The other tourists watched with concerned faces as Alfred grabbed his luggage and followed. Alfred did feel a bit bad. His little stunt had probably confirmed for the other tourists their unspoken fears of being detained in this country, which was surely what it must have looked like as Alfred was led away to airport jail.

Inside the room, the second official sat Alfred down across from a desk with a computer, a phone, and some papers scattered about its surface. The official picked up the phone, spoke a few words into the receiver in Korean, then sat back in his chair without speaking a word to Alfred.

"So…why am I here?" Alfred ventured, hoping the second official spoke English.

"Holding," the man answered tersely.

"…For?" Alfred pressed.

A grin spread across the official's face. "Questioning."

That's when Alfred started to think he may have made a big mistake in coming here. If North had any desire to harm him, Alfred had just walked in and handed himself over on a silver platter. If the North Koreans had been in a bad spot before, they might be in a great one now. Alfred had already handed over his phone and had no way to call for help. They could hold him hostage and demand all kinds of things from his government in exchange for his safe return. They could threaten and torture him as revenge for all the things they believed he'd done to them with the satisfaction of knowing he could not permanently die. They could—

Before Alfred could let his imagination run too wild, the door opened. North stood in the doorway, wearing his usual olive drab and an angry scowl. He grunted something in Korean, and the official got up and left, leaving Alfred alone with his communist adversary.

"I should have you deported," North growled, looking down at Alfred with his arms crossed.

"But you won't," Alfred smirked, trying to maintain his confidence. "Or you wouldn't have let them give me a visa."

North continued to glare at him, eyes narrowed. Alfred took his silence as confirmation that North had indeed let him into the country.

"You should have just answered my calls," Alfred went on, smiling wryly. "Now you have to deal with me in person."

"What are you doing here?" North demanded, ignoring Alfred's words and coming a few steps closer so that he was now standing over the American. If he was trying to intimidate Alfred, it wasn't really working. If he stood up, Alfred would be several inches taller, and then whatever physical presence North had managed to procure for himself in this situation would be gone.

"Didn't I just pretty much tell you?" Alfred asked, though it was less a question than a statement. "I came here to talk to you."

"You expect me to believe that? I'm not stupid," North hissed. "You didn't come all this way just to talk."

Alfred felt his cheeks begin to burn. Normally, he wouldn't be at all hurt by North calling him stupid, because Alfred knew it wasn't true. Except this time, he had admittedly done something very stupid. So stupid, in fact, that even North didn't seem to believe Alfred was dumb enough to do it. It was like an indirect insult.

"I, uh, did," Alfred admitted, dropping his gaze for a moment. When he looked back up, North's expression hadn't changed. "You weren't answering my calls so I figured I'd have to do something you couldn't ignore, and you couldn't! 'Cause here we are."

"You're here to spy on me," North said matter-of-factly after a short pause, as if Alfred had somehow admitted to being a spy in his last sentence.

"Uh, no? I'm not." Alfred shrugged. "Look, man, think about it. Why would I bother to have your embassy staff in Beijing call you up and basically tell you I was trying to get in? It's because I wanted you to know I was coming. Would I do that if I was trying to spy on you?"

"You were trying to slip in with a tour group."

"But why would I have your embassy staff tell you that?"

North seemed to tense up the more Alfred spoke. "I don't know!" he said, exasperated. He took his eyes off Alfred for a moment to pace away a few steps. "You're trying to spy right under my nose."

"Geez," Alfred sighed. In the short time between Alfred's last visit and this one, North had gone from being ready to start things over with him to being just as hostile and paranoid as ever. Alfred had to wonder if maybe North's leader had somehow found out about the things said on the roadway and had a word with North about it. Or maybe North had never had any plan to be civil with Alfred and had simply played along until he'd gotten the talks with South Korea like he'd wanted. "Maybe I just wanted to come on a nice vacation to North Korea," Alfred pouted fakely. "And you're giving me a bad first impression of your country."

"You've already seen my country," North scoffed, turning to face Alfred again.

"It was a joke."

"So you are spying?"

"No!" Alfred groaned. There was no winning here. "Look. What do you want me to do? I came here to ask you to keep trying to talk to Yong Soo because, frankly, you're being a jerk."

"…Excuse me?" North asked incredulously.

"Yeah, a jerk."

North stared at Alfred like he was the biggest idiot in the world (a fair assumption). A crack appeared in North's cold exterior as his eyebrows drew together and he racked his brain trying to figure out if Alfred was being serious. Finally, he seemed to come to the realization that, yes, maybe Alfred was dumb enough to actually do that. "You really came here just to tell me that?"

"…Yeah," Alfred said with a frown.

An uncomfortable silence hung between the two nations as they both mentally tried to work through their confusion. North almost looked like he wanted to laugh. Almost.

"What if I said 'no'?" North asked, breaking the silence at last.

"Well…" Clearly Alfred hadn't thought this plan through very well. He was on North's turf. He couldn't make North do anything. He didn't have the backup of politicians this time. North had no reason to take him seriously. He could send Alfred home whenever he wanted. "I'd have to insist."

"…Anyway," North sighed, his expression hardening again. "I'm not going to believe that. You're here spying. Probably scouting before your 'drills.' Or should I say, 'invasion cover-up?'"

Alfred wanted to throw his hands up in frustration. How on earth had North come up with a ridiculous reason like that? What made him so paranoid that he genuinely believed he was going to be attacked every time someone held a drill?

"What can I do to make you believe me?" Alfred asked, hoping North would actually have an answer for him. "A written statement? A lie detector test? I'll do it, whatever it is."

Another moment of silence passed between the two as North considered his options. "Let me make a call," he said, ducking out of the room. Alfred knew he would still be standing just outside the door.

A few minutes later, North was back. "I'm moving you."

"You're not kicking me out?"

"I can't," North replied. "Only two flights out per week. Today's left this morning. Next one is on Tuesday."

"So…"

"So, come with me," North growled, pulling Alfred up from his chair by the arm.

Maybe Alfred deserved the rough treatment for the nation equivalent of trespassing, but was it really necessary? He wrenched his arm back after he was standing and grabbed his suitcase with a huff. "Thanks for the help there, buddy." North didn't answer to that.

Instead, North led Alfred out of the airport into what must have been the parking lot. Cars were scattered haphazardly across the asphalt because there were no painted lines for them to park between. North unlocked the door to a white sedan that must have been at least 20 years old and motioned for Alfred to get in the passenger's seat, which he did without protest. The upholstery gave off the unmistakable tang of cigarette smoke.

"You smoke?" Alfred asked, raising an eyebrow as North settled himself into the driver's seat.

"Rarely," North answered as the old car sputtered to life. "It's the people who ride with me."

"Tell them it's bad for them," Alfred said. "And you should stop too."

North drove from the airport to the heart of Pyongyang. Alfred gazed out the window absentmindedly. The streets were clear of snow, but it was still too cold for it to melt, so it just sat piled up and dirty on the side of the road. They were the only car on the street. Everyone else was bundled up and walking.

A few minutes later, they pulled up outside of a large building. Alfred looked up at the Korean writing and mentally translated it as "First People's Hospital."

"Why are we at a hospital?" Alfred asked, hesitating to get out of the car. A feeling of apprehension settled into his gut.

"Questioning," North said simply, getting out and going around to the passenger side to make sure Alfred did the same. Alfred stared at him through the window, unmoving. North may not have been smiling, but Alfred's memory flashed back to the official at the airport who had grinned so gleefully when he'd said that same word. What was North not telling him?

After a few moments, North grew impatient and opened the door, continuing to glare at Alfred. "Come on."

"Tell me why we're at a hospital for 'questioning,'" Alfred demanded, keeping his seatbelt buckled and his legs stretched out so it would be hard for North to pull him from the car.

"You said you would do anything to prove you were telling the truth," North replied as if it were obvious.

"I'm not getting out so you can torture me with scalpels and injections and weird brain-washing drugs and god knows what else," Alfred said, settling further down into the seat stubbornly. "Nope. Count me out. That wasn't part of the agreement."

"It's none of that," North said, reaching in to try and unbuckle Alfred's seatbelt. Alfred caught North's hand and shoved it back towards him. He was honestly beginning to get a little scared. Maybe North did bring Alfred here to have him tortured. If he really needed to, Alfred was probably strong enough to fight North off and make a run for it. Regular humans would be no match for him and he could probably run to the border with South Korea, at the cost of a lot of negative publicity and an international incident. It would be a tough one to explain back home, but he wasn't about to let North have the satisfaction of tearing him up.

"You're getting awfully pushy there," Alfred said, still refusing to get out. "Come on. What are we doing here? Spit it out."

Alfred could see North clenching his jaw as he debated whether to give up that information, but finally, he did. "One injection," he said. "Sodium pentothal. Now get out."

Alfred gave North a good, cold staredown, but after a moment, he unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out of the car.

Sodium pentothal was more colloquially known as "truth serum." Alfred remembered the CIA using it many years ago, both on enemy spies and their own, to loosen their tongues and get them to talk. The drug worked by depressing the nervous system, and in turn, the higher functions that allowed a person to lie. Since lying was more complex than telling the truth, subjects would often get chatty and spill things they hadn't meant to spill. Alfred's country had mostly stopped using the drug because it was found that subjects, unable to think critically under its influence, would often unknowingly agree with what their interrogators were asking them and tell them exactly what they wanted to hear, whether it was true or not.

Alfred followed North through the hospital doors, but he wasn't sure he was ready to resign to this chemical interrogation just yet. If North—or whoever Alfred's interrogators ended up being—phrased their questions right, Alfred might unknowingly confess to something that wasn't true, and then who knew how his own words would be used against him?

"You know that stuff isn't fool proof right?" he pointed out, wondering if it might have any effect on North. It didn't, and North led him straight to the reception desk, where he exchanged a few words with the receptionist before leading Alfred down a long hallway off to the side. "Surely you have a lie detector somewhere."

"In a secret facility I can't take you to," North explained, finally opening one of the doors and holding it open for Alfred.

The room looked like a dentist's room—bare except for a cabinet filled with vials of drugs, a sink, and a dentist's chair. Like the rest of the hospital, it was unheated, and lit dimly by a single lightbulb and whatever small amount of electricity the hospital was allotted. He entered hesitantly, waiting to see if North would follow him. When he did, Alfred relaxed a little and sat down in the chair. If he was going to go through with this, he at least wanted one familiar face around. He had a grim thought about how sodium pentothal was also used in lethal injections, but where would executing him get the North Koreans? He would just revive and they'd be right back where they'd started. And there were much more violent, satisfying ways to kill him anyway. Even after managing to convince himself that he wasn't about to die here, Alfred still fidgeted uncomfortably, grimacing as the cold began to seep through his clothes from the leather below.

Since there wasn't another chair in the room, North had positioned himself near the door, leaning against the wall. After a few moments in silence, he seemed to sense Alfred's discomfort. "It's voluntary, you know."

"The injection?"

"Yes."

"I find that hard to believe," Alfred scoffed. "If I don't do it, I'm probably automatically guilty right? So what's my other option?"

"A heavily guarded cell until I can put you on a plane out of here," North answered completely seriously.

"Why am I not surprised?" Alfred laughed uneasily. Less than an hour ago, he'd stepped off a plane at the airport, and now he was about to be chemically interrogated. This all had to be a joke. All of it. From the fact that he was about to be injected with a drug literally known as "truth serum" to this creepily outdated hospital room—it was like it had all come out of a bad spy movie. Except everything here was real.

The door creaked open and a middle aged nurse entered, holding a single vial and a needle. She asked North something in Korean, and North turned to Alfred.

"Do you consent?" he asked.

Alfred could feel his heart pounding in his chest. This was his last chance to say no. He could spend a few days in a cell and be out of here, knowing he had given up nothing he hadn't meant to, but also that he hadn't achieved what he'd come here to do. Or he could go through with this interrogation and show that his intentions were pure, but possibly give up a national secret or otherwise say something North was sure to take to heart in the process. The two options danced in his head, but he finally found himself muttering, "Yes."

North relayed this to the nurse, who then went to the cabinet to retrieve a cotton ball and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. She said something else to North, who translated it for Alfred.

"Pull down your pants."

Alfred stared. "…What the fuck, man."

"Don't say it like that!" North scolded, clearly embarrassed. "It goes in the muscle!"

Alfred understood, but North getting flustered was so different from his usual cold demeanor that Alfred had to milk it for all it was worth. "Turn around so I don't have to feel like you're looking at my ass then."

"Are you serious?"

"Completely."

North shook his head, but turned around and muttered something in Korean that didn't need translating.

Alfred stood up from the chair and pulled down his pants and underwear enough to expose one butt cheek for the waiting nurse. She swabbed a chosen area with rubbing alcohol, and Alfred felt a prick as the truth serum was injected deep into the muscle. When she was done, Alfred pulled his pants back up, and within seconds he felt something like a welcoming warmth wash over him. The door creaked as the nurse left, and North turned back to face him.

Alfred's pounding heart slowed, and he sank back down into the chair. The old padding, as cold and thin as it was, seemed to envelope him like a loving hug. The dim light above him suddenly seemed like springtime sunshine. North was no longer an enemy interrogator, but a long lost friend. What had Alfred been so afraid of? He was clearly in no danger here. In fact, he almost wanted to laugh.

"Why did you come here?" North asked after a moment.

"To talk to you," Alfred heard himself saying. His voice had a distant, echoing quality. "But, man, you make it hard. You're not the easiest guy to talk to, you know?"

"Why is that?" North inquired, his voice suddenly smooth and sweet like whipped cream. Was it the drug? Alfred felt himself smile.

"Well, you're kind of a jerk, but I told you that already." Surely it was obvious. Despite looking almost exactly like his brother in the South, the two Koreas couldn't have been more different. Alfred stared at North. Everything seemed to now be surrounded by a fuzzy halo. "You're the bad Korea."

North visibly frowned. Suddenly, Alfred felt bad for what he'd said. North may have been an enemy, but Alfred wanted them to be friends! They couldn't be friends if Alfred made him sad.

"No, no!" he cried. "Don't get sad! I hate seeing Yong Soo cry and since you're twins, him crying is basically you crying so—so don't do that okay? I don't wanna see it. You'll probably make me cry too."

Even as drugged up as he was, Alfred could see North roll his eyes. Ha! What a fun guy. "Who sent you?" North asked before Alfred could say any more.

"No one!" Alfred proclaimed proudly. "You know how much trouble I had to go through to get here? I had to hide everything because Obama wouldn't let me come if he knew what I was doing. How stupid is that? I'm America and he thinks he can tell me what to do? Sorry, buddy, I'm the embodiment of freedom. Free like an eagle. Caw caw, motherfucker."

He felt bubbles tickling at his chest, and suddenly he was erupting in laughter. Caw caw? Eagles didn't caw. They screeched like harpies flying victoriously into battle. How could he have been so silly? He laughed and laughed until he got the hiccups, which only made him laugh harder.

At some point, he must have passed out, because the next thing he remembered was waking up with a massive headache. North stood over him, helpfully blocking some of the now painful light from the bulb overhead, though Alfred knew it wasn't North's intention to be nice.

"You fucking commie…" Alfred drawled through the pain, whatever affection he'd felt for North because of the drug now a distant memory. He squeezed his eyes shut before opening them again. "It fucking hurts."

"Side effect," North grunted, thrusting a cup of cold water into Alfred's hands. "Be happy. You pass. I suppose."

"Happy birthday to me," Alfred scoffed, accepting the cup, though he nearly dropped it.

"It's February," North reminded him wisely.

"Wow, thanks, I didn't know that!" Alfred shot back. He thought he may have seen North smirking, but he was still so drugged up on truth juice he couldn't be sure. "What now?"

"No cell for you," North confirmed.

"Fantastic," Alfred snorted. "What do I get instead?"

"You signed up for a tour. You get a tour," North said. "But I don't trust you not to beat up my guards and go off on your own, so you get me instead."

Alfred could hardly believe his ears. Well, he had wanted to talk to North, hadn't he? Now it sounded like he would have all the time in the world.

Author's Notes:

- As outlandish as truth serum sounds, it's a real thing. It's not used much anymore, but recently it was almost used in the James Holmes trial to determine whether or not Holmes was legally insane at the time of his crime. In the end, it wasn't used because it was thought to infringe upon his right to remain silent. I can't confirm whether or not North Korea uses it, but it's not a very big stretch of the imagination to see it happening there. There is one account of someone who claims to have had it used on him by the North Koreans in the book Eating with the Enemy, but it's hard to verify.

- It's true that very few flights go in and out of North Korea. The official airline, Air Koryo, only goes in and out on Tuesdays and Saturdays. Arrivals are at 11:30am and departures are at 9:00am. So Alfred's stuck for three days, at least. There are a few other miscellaneous Chinese airlines that do flights to Pyongyang, but I can't find any information on how often they fly, so I think they must be on an as-needed basis.