It was a miserable place to work, not least because it was so remote and desolate. Shin knew that there was a rocket launching site not that far away – he had seen missiles arching into the sky. Even more depressing was the fact that the Hwasong concentration camp was a little over a mile away. He had been told that thousands of the political prisoners from what was officially known as ‘Penal Labour Colony No.16’ had been used in the construction of the tunnel complexes and underground facilities, and he knew that many of them must have been exposed to lethal levels or radioactivity. It was no consolation either that these political prisoners never had any chance of being released from the camp, and that they and their families, who were deemed guilty by association, were there until they died.
He realised that he was lucky not to be in one of these places himself, with his brother and nephew. But he had been too valuable to the State for them to lock him away, so he had escaped the ultimate penalty, and managed to save Yong at the same time. They were both lucky.
Until now, he had accepted all this as a normal part of life. The state propaganda machine made sure of that. Now though, since his glimpse of freedom, he was beginning to have doubts.
His work at the nuclear test site did not help. It was a fascinating venture which was putting all his skills to the test, but he knew that in reality it was a Chinese research project which was extremely dangerous. He knew that there had already been several disasters surrounding the work within China, which was why they had now moved the development and construction of the revolutionary new uranium enrichment experiment to North Korea, where labour was freely available and life was cheap.
Choi Shin knew that the successful conclusion of the work would have deadly consequences, possibly with world-wide repercussions, but he could do nothing about it. Until now, he had barely given it a thought, but since meeting fellow research scientists overseas, he had begun to realise the true nature of what he was helping to create.
He was not a happy man, as he sat in his room in the accommodation block which was part of the research centre. He worried about his brother, who he now knew he would never see again, and he was sad to think that he would soon be without his beloved nephew for four months.
He also now knew that he was a sick man.
He had been diagnosed with radiation sickness, which he knew was often fatal.
He had been exposed to too much nuclear radiation for too long during his career, and there had plainly been too little monitoring of the levels to which he had been exposed and too little protection provided for individuals at the establishments where he worked. He reflected that, at almost any level in the country, life was cheap.
As he sat in his room, pondering his future, he was idly watching the only channel on the state-run TV network, with its never-ending flow of propaganda. At the beginning of the news programme however, was a story which caught his attention, not least because of the flood of vitriol which it had aroused and which was being directed at America, but also because the news reader had mentioned Yongbyon. Not that anti-American propaganda was anything new, but this looked different. The story alleged that an American spy had been caught red-handed in the town which was the home of North Korea’s major nuclear installation. He was apparently intent on trying to infiltrate the site, to provide America with secrets surrounding the nuclear development work which was the envy of the western world, thanks to the brilliant and enlightened guidance of the Supreme Leader.
Suddenly, Choi was interested. An American spy caught trying to infiltrate the place where he worked? Now that was news. It took time for all the facts to emerge from the news item, if that’s what it really was, as there was so much anti-American propaganda contained in it, as well as attacks on the West in general. There was the usual high praise for the Great Leader who had uncovered this traitor, and for the brave and brilliant men who he had led, and who had eventually caught and trapped him.
It did seem as if the man was a traitor, too, if the news was to be believed. He was apparently a defector from North Korea who had been sent back to the country by the Americans with the sole intention of spying on it. Thanks to the diligence of our security police however, he had been caught before he could do any harm. His papers had been badly forged by the Americans, and he had been found with large sums of Dollars and Euros in his back-pack.
Through all the endless stream of vitriol directed at America, Choi eventually gathered that the man had initially aroused suspicion, and then been arrested, for illegal trading. He had been seen going from door to door in Yongbyon selling fruit and eggs without a licence. In North Korea, it was illegal to buy and sell for private gain, and the man was plainly a traitor to the Korean people, whatever his intentions.
Dr. Choi Shin was immediately alert and horrified.
Surely not the man who had called on him a week ago? The man with the photograph of himself at Aldermaston with Lee Cooper?
Choi’s mind was in a whirl. What if it was the same man? What if he had after all been sent as a contact between him and London? Worse still, what if he had been caught with more photographs of Cooper and Choi together?
Choi himself could now be in mortal danger. In the past, he had largely ignored this kind of event, accepting them as part of life. Things were different this time. He had been to the West and knew that this was anything but normal in a civilised society. It was also far too close to home for his comfort. For the first time he could remember, Dr. Choi was frightened.
And what about the man in the canteen?
He anxiously watched the television all that evening, a thing he had never done in his life before, waiting for further developments. But there was nothing new by the time the TV station closed down, when the electricity supply to the transmitter was cut off.
It was not until the following evening that his worse fears were realised.
The TV news reader was almost hysterical, as instructed by her superiors, in describing the American acolytes who had sent this defector back to spy on the hard working and innocent people of the Republic. He was an enemy of the Korean People who must be punished, in the same way that the people of America would also be punished by the Supreme Leader. He had already decreed that the retribution would be terrible but totally justified, and there was even talk of war between the two countries, starting with an attack on the treacherous people of South Korea who were such devoted allies of the western filth who lived there.
It was claimed that the traitor had been stealing the produce he had been seen selling from a local farm, without the knowledge of the farmer or any of the hard-working and loyal men who laboured there. They had never seen him before, so they said, and this was further evidence of his guilt – he had hidden away to avoid being punished for his anti-state behaviour.
The farmer and his son who ran their stall, as well as everyone who worked on the farm, were among those who were forced to attend a rally in the market square. It served as an example to all decent people in the country that the Supreme Leader must be obeyed without question.
The battered and bloodied man was dragged to the front of the Hall of the Korean People’s Working Party. This was not the first event of its kind in this suburban village square, and neither would it be the last.
The traitor was forced against a wall, already pocked with bullet marks from similar previous events.
The shouting and cheering crowd, gathered together and marshalled by the authorities, was baying for blood and waving portraits of their Great Leader.
The traitor and enemy of the Korean people was publicly executed by firing squad in front of them all.
***
Dr. Choi Shin was horrified by the scenes on the small TV screen.
He knew the place well. It was not far from where he and nephew Yong had enjoyed tea only the other afternoon. Even then, Shin had watched ragged children scavenging scraps of discarded food from the gutters beneath the stalls, as he had done so often before. He had never taken mu
ch notice. It was a fact of life, and he knew no other.
Until his recent visits abroad, that is.
Now he knew that he could no longer accept this as normal. Now he knew that there were better ways, better lives, and better places.
What he had seen on his TV screen at Punggye-ri proved to be a huge distraction to his work on the project there. He was desperate to get back to his apartment in Yongbyon where this tragedy had unfolded and to talk to nephew Yong again before he went to London. He needed to find out whether the man in the canteen at the nuclear plant was still there, or whether his last chance of maintaining contact with his fellow scientists in London had gone for ever. For the man’s sake, he hoped he had gone before he too was caught, but for his own sake, Choi Shin hoped beyond hope that he was still there and that he could pass a message to Lee Cooper.
Dr. Choi Shin had finally decided that he must help to prevent even further tragedy and misery being inflicted on his country, and possibly on others around the world. The civilised world had to know what his work involved.
He needed to get information about his project to his new-found friends. Even during his last few days at the nuclear test site project, before he returned to the relative comfort of his apartment at Yongbyon, he had started to collect and copy sensitive information in the hope that he would somehow be able to get it to Lee Cooper before it was too late.
Not just too late for humanity, but too late for him.
He did not have long to gather together all the information they would need.
He now knew that he had little time to live. It was not just radiation sickness any more.
He had cancer.
***
On his return to the plant at Yongbyon, Choi Shin went straight to the canteen for tea. There was no sign of the man who swept the floor and who had slipped the crumpled photograph into his shoe.
He was not there at supper, either, or at breakfast the next morning, or lunch.
Choi could not ask.
He had gone.
So had Choi’s last chance of ever making contact again with the people in London. They were unlikely to send anyone else – ever. He had twice ignored their approaches, and indirectly been responsible for the capture and death of one of the brave men who had been sent by London to help him.
They would not send anyone else.
He now had no means of making contact again, but the more he thought about it, the more he resolved to keep collecting the information which he knew they wanted.
Just in case.
He cursed the fact that he had trusted no-one, not even the people who had been sent specially to keep him in touch with Cooper and his colleagues in London. But it could just as well have been a trap, as he suspected. He was not to know. Even now he could not be sure.
But now he had started, he would continue to copy the secret information he had at his disposal. If he was caught, so what? He was dying anyway, and did not know how long he had to complete his project.
But he no longer had any means of getting his secrets to London. He could not take them himself, any more than he could go to the compound at Munsu-Dong in Pyongyang, and simply had them over to the people at the British Embassy.
He soon realised, however, that there was only one, but dangerous, option.
The more he thought about it, the more risky it became, but it was his one and only chance.
He eventually concluded that it was a risk worth taking.
***
Choi Shin and Choi Yong were having a special supper in the town square, not far from where the American traitor had been executed. It was Yong’s last night before he departed for London.
The place had more or less returned to normal, although the State TV channel was still pouring out the vitriol against America, and threatening dire consequences for their action. The latest threat had been a missile attack again the American lackey State of South Korea, and indeed Shin wondered if such an event had already taken place. He had seen missiles being launched from the site near Punggye-ri just before he left there.
There was no longer any doubt that the paranoid leadership was capable of doing anything.
So their supper together was a sombre affair. Not only were uncle and nephew parting for a few months, but, after much soul-searching, Shin had decided that he had to tell Yong about his illness.
“I am sure I shall still be here when you return,” Shin tried to console his nephew. “The prognosis is not that bad, and I shall be able to keep working for a bit longer.”
He looked closely at Yong.
“But I have a favour to ask you. A great favour.”
“Anything,” replied Yong. “Simply ask, and it shall be done.”
“It will be dangerous for you,” warned Shin.
“For you uncle, anything,” insisted Yong.
“We have discussed this before,” Shin reminded his nephew, “but recent events have led me to decide that I must no longer keep my secret work to myself.”
He looked at Yong.
“The man who was shot across there,” he gestured, “was not an American spy. He had been sent here from England specially to help me.”
Yong looked at him in disbelief.
“It is true,” Choi Shin nodded, “but I was too slow to believe him. I trusted no-one, not even him. There was a second man as well, working at the nuclear plant. He has gone - disappeared. So now I have nobody to help me get this information to my contacts in London.”
He looked closely at Yong.
“Only you can help,” he said. “You are going there.”
Yong nodded.
“Of course. But how, exactly, can I help?”
“It will be dangerous for you, but you are my only hope.”
Yong nodded again.
“I don’t mind, uncle. For you I would do anything. Just tell me.”
“I only ask because I trust you.”
“I shall not let you down, I promise.”
Dr. Choi Shin reached into his pocked, and produced a crumpled piece of paper. He flattened it on the table between them.
It was the photograph taken at Aldermaston.
“Find this man,” commanded Shin, pointing. “His name is Lee Cooper. Tell him I shall have all the information he wants in a few weeks, but he must arrange to collect it.”
Without a word, Yong took the paper, put it in his pocket, and left.
8.
THE AMERICANS
News of the execution soon reached London – and Washington.
The Americans were less than amused at the increased level of vitriol directed towards them because one of ‘their’ spies had been caught red handed. They knew the man wasn’t one of theirs, and immediately guessed that he was from the UK, who, like them, had been taking a close interest in the North Korean nuclear programme. Also like them, the UK has been particularly interested in the work of Dr. Choi Shin, who had not been interested in defecting to either country.
In London, however, they had more urgent matters to attend to.
A ‘Flash’ message was sent to Kang Soo to evacuate as fast as possible.
Having watched the North Korean television, he already had, although not as fast as London might have wished. He had decided that it was best not to draw undue attention to himself, so he was gently pedalling his way towards the Chinese border on his old bicycle.
***
James Piper needed to see Lee Cooper immediately. At the moment in London, everyone needed to see everyone else – immediately.
For a change, Cooper knocked on the door marked ‘James Piper, Head of S.7’, but went in without being asked just the same.
“I’ve had the Americans on,” Piper announced.
“Again? About Choi Shin?”
“Right. You’ve heard about the American spy being shot in North Korea?”
“The chap from the SAS you mean?”
“Right again. The Americans know he wasn’t one of theirs, and think h
e must have been one of ours.”
“How do they work that out?”
“They’re guessing and pointing the finger.”
“The North was bound to suspect the yanks. Everything that goes wrong in the world is the American’s fault,” said Cooper.
“They’re bastards, aren’t they, in the North. Uncivilised, doing a thing like that, even if they did think he was an American spy.”
“Never mind him for a minute. Sad though it is, he’s dead. What about the other bloke they sent?”
“Pedalling his way slowly to China,” replied Piper.
“Pedalling?”
“On his bike, trying not to attract too much attention. He’s Korean anyway, even if he is from the South, so he might just get away with it.”
“I’ll never understand what possessed the Army to send those chaps. Or why they were allowed to, either. It had failure written all over it before they started.”
“Somebody on high must have thought it was worth a try. And the military are desperate to get their hands on what they’re doing over there in relation to their nuclear weapons programme.”
“But it’s not what the Army is good at, getting information like that. Not even the SAS. It’s our job to do that sort of thing.”
“I’ve been on to Colonel Owen at Hereford. Apparently the man doesn’t have any next of kin in this country – not that they know of, anyway. And they reckon that with a fair wind the other chap will make it home.”
“Are we helping?”
“Of course. I told Owen we’ve been in touch already with our contacts over there, on his behalf. The plan is for one of our people to intercept him on his way to the border if they can find him, provide him with papers, and get him across into China by bribing a couple of their favourite border guards,” explained Piper.
“Then what?”
“Then he gets to Shanghai by train. Our Defence man at the Consulate there will meet him, dress him up like he belongs here instead of there, give him a passport and all the papers he needs, and put him on a plane for the UK.”
“And a hero’s welcome in London, I suppose.”
“Birmingham, actually. And a damned good de-briefing session once he gets to Hereford!”