Ah, North Korea. A land of cold stares, even colder temperatures, and secrets so deep, you could cut the tension with a knife.
Getting there was no easy feat. In fact, it called for a certain old friend to help me: Jack Dalton.
Jack and I go back a long way, and while he wasn't exactly known for stealth, he knew how to fly a plane better than anyone I knew. Of course, he had to add his own flair to the mission by playing 80s rock music at full volume on the flight over.
"How's Jared doing?" he asked over the roar of the engine.
"Fine," I shouted back, trying to be heard over the music. "Growing like a weed, keeps asking about your next visit."
"Ah, soon my good man, soon." he said in his casual fake British accent that never failed to annoy me.
We landed in a secluded area just outside of Pyongyang, the North Korean capital, under the guise of a covert mission for an international aid organization. The plane's engine whined down as the cold air rushed in, the stark contrast from the warmth of the cockpit a harsh reminder of the seriousness of what was ahead.
Jack handed me a backpack filled with my gear. "Good luck, Mac," he said, slapping me on the shoulder. "I'll be here when you're done playing James Bond."
"Thanks," I said, zipping the pack closed. "And keep the volume down next time, will ya?"
Jack just grinned, "Where's the fun in that?"
"You know the drill, Mac," Pete's voice crackled in my ear, the static of our encrypted radio communication the only sound in the dense, moonlit night. "In and out, no heroics."
I nodded, though I knew he couldn't see me. The North Korean compound loomed before me, a maze of concrete and barbed wire. I took a deep breath and set off, my boots crunching softly on the snow-covered ground. The mission was simple, or at least it was supposed to be: get in, find the files, and get out. But in my line of work, nothing was ever simple.
Entering was my first problem. Here you couldn't exactly knock on the door and get a warm welcome. At least, not without setting off alarms and finding out what lead from a semi-automatic felt like. So, I had to improvise. Some rope would do the trick.
I scaled the wall, feeling the cold bite through my gloves. It had been a while since I'd done something like this. I missed the adrenaline rush, the thrill of the unknown. But I made sure I didn't let that get to my head. This was serious.
I landed safely on the other side of the wall, the cold air hitting me like a slap in the face. I had to move quickly to avoid detection. The compound was eerily quiet, the only sound being the distant hum of generators and the occasional bark of a guard dog.
Using my trusty Swiss Army knife, I cut through the wire and slipped inside, the darkness of the night my only ally. The layout of the compound was as Pete had described it, a maze of buildings with no clear path to the central command.
The first guard post was easy to bypass. They were too busy trying to stay warm to notice my quiet approach. But the second post was more vigilant, the guard's breath visible in the cold air as he scanned the area. I waited, watching his pattern, timing my move. When he turned away, I struck quickly, disarming him with a sleeper hold and a whispered apology.
The compound grew more complex as I moved inward. Each step had to be calculated, each shadow used to my advantage. The buildings grew closer together, the lights grew brighter. I had to be careful not to cast a shadow that could betray my presence. The chill of the night air was now a welcome companion, keeping me sharp and focused.
Finally, I found what I had come here for, a nondescript building that had to be the central command. I approached it with caution, my heart thumping in my chest. The guards around this area were more alert, more numerous.
As I reached the building's side, I noticed something peculiar. There was a vent, just the right size for a man of my stature to squeeze through. It was perfect for a secret entrance.
The building was as warm and welcoming as you'd expect. Metal walls, the smell of oil, and the constant hum of machines were a stark contrast to the warm, cozy shop back home. But, a job was a job.
I made my way to where Pete had said the files were: third floor, room 314.
The corridors were tight, the air thick with the smell of secrets and sweat. The guards patrolled with a sense of urgency, as if they knew something was off. But they didn't suspect me, just another shadow in the night.
Then, there it was, room 314. I tried to open the door but it didn't budge. Padlock. Of course, it had to be a padlock. But, that's why they chose me I suppose.
See, these types of padlocks are the type that stopped working after a sudden electric charge.
All I needed was something that could generate a quick burst of energy. My eyes fell on a discarded soda can in the corner. It was empty, but the metal was perfect for what I had in mind.
I took out my knife and carefully cut a piece of wire from the can, making sure it was straight and smooth. I then pulled out my multi-tools, which had a tiny battery. The plan was to make a makeshift battery, something that would be strong enough to pop the lock.
I connected one end of the wire to the negative terminal of the battery and the other to the lock's metal plate. I held my breath, and with a silent prayer, I touched the wire to the positive terminal. Sparks flew and the lock clicked open. It was a risky move, but it paid off.
The room was cluttered with files and technical equipment, but the layout was surprisingly organized. Clearly, whoever was in charge here knew what they were doing. I scanned the room with my flashlight, looking for the telltale signs of the documents I needed.
I looked for a few minutes, looking in metal drawer after drawer until I found what I was looking for: a manila envelope, marked 'Project Phoenix' in stark red letters.
This was it.
Tucking it into my bag, I carefully made my way out of room, making sure to leave everything as I found it. I made my way back to my secret entry point, the tension in my body wound as tightly as the springs in a watch. I made my way out, looking both ways so as to make sure I was not seen.
I retraced my steps, until I came to the wall that was the only thing separating me from the plane. But just as I was climbing the rope, I saw guards rushing to me. I thought I was prepared for what was about to happen next, but how wrong I was.