The End of the Beginning
Chapter 2: Vengeance Against Death

“So tell me, Lieutenant,” Airman Grace said with a snort, “how is it that the Air Force pararescuer with the most credited rescues in the war so far, and with the most badass group of dudes at his fingertips making him look so good, still single?” The team burst out laughing inside the loud confines of the Valor. William smiled as he held the hand of the young boy sitting next to him.

“Yeah, sir, I think you’re the only one on this bird without a prettier bird waiting for him at home. What are you, like, forty-three?” Darrow joked, his injured leg propped up straight out of his seat.

“Funny,” William said, “try twenty-four. And what’s the rush, boys? I got a long life to lead after this war. Same goes for all of you.”

“I got a bad feeling about this invasion, guys,” Airman Harden said wearily. “People north of the DMZ are nuts. They will die for Kimmy. Think he’s a frigging god. If we go to Pyongyang, they’ll want a slaughter. I heard they ate American prisoners.” “Harden,” William snapped, pointing to the boy, “shut up!”

Harden fixed his glasses. “Sorry, sir.”

“When this thing starts and we go to Pyongyang, we’ll be there for three days or less,” claimed Staff Sergeant Jones. “I’ll bet you my entire collection of vinyls.”

“Better only take that long!” Grace shouted. “I gotta get our fearless leader here a date before he’s old and senile. You keep losing your helmet on these rescue missions, sir, and that might just happen sooner than you think,” he said, pointing to William’s bare head.

William touched his head, realizing that he must’ve lost it while on the bus. This is starting to become a habit, he thought.

“I’ll try and keep it attached to my head next time,” he chuckled.

William loved these men. They were like family to him. By now, they had been on dozens of rescue missions together, saving hundreds of lives. William was addicted to it. The rush that overcame him with each new danger, with each survivor snatched from death, only made his passion grow. He wouldn’t want his life any other way. Being up here, over the smoking hills, mountains, and valleys, over the looted towns and shelled cities, made him remember why he did what he did, whether he wanted to or not… I was so sick after being plucked from my home, a place I never wanted to return to again. Below me was nothing but brown, oil-filled water that inundated everything for miles. What would happen next, I wondered. Where would we go? Where would we live? Would I ever see my friends again? Were they even alive? I didn’t know. I just wanted her back. The motion of the helicopter only made me more nauseous. And there was that sound again. Thump, thump, thump, thump… Turbulence knocked William into focus. His feet were dangling out the right cabin door of the Valor. A gunner with his hands on a .50 cal sat opposite him in the doorway. William looked down several hundred feet to see the plane’s shadow following them. Square fields of crops checkered the valley. He looked over his shoulder at the team’s rookie, Airman Connell, who seemed dazed.

“Was that your first rescue mission, Airman?” asked William, still high on a mixture of jet fumes and adrenaline. “Pretty crazy, aren’t they? Pretty fun, right?”

The airman was a shy young man of twenty-two years from somewhere in Colorado, William didn’t remember where exactly.

“Yes, sir, it was. Training didn’t do it justice,” said the timid airman.

William quickly replied, “Don’t worry, it won’t be your last. That was the sixth one this week. I’d say they get easier but they don’t. But you do start to get a… a routine.” A thunderous echo from the Valor’s chopping blades resonated off the valley walls, making the aircraft sound louder and bigger than it really was. Thump, thump, thump, thump. Low grey clouds clung to the walls. The yellow haze worsened the closer they got to the front. A lush green forest stood on the valley floor below them, but spots like this were rare to see. When the Northerners retreated, they had instigated a scorched Earth policy. A few homes still remained intact, dotting the otherwise barren landscape along roads and rail lines that crisscrossed into the valleys and through mountain passes.

Despite the destruction, William had come to see the country below as beautiful. It was sad, really, he thought, as he looked out over the valley, that the unfair actions of a ruthless few could start all this. The farmers that had lived in the valley were a simple group; they had not asked for this. Neither had the fishermen offshore, or the business people in downtown Seoul, or the dockworkers over in Hyundai. William loved flying over this country and its people. He could stare below the cabin for hours and lose himself.

“Excuse me, sir. Once we reach Forward Operating Base Incheon, what will happen?” asked Airman Connell.

William was still staring out the window, daydreaming.

“Sir. Lieutenant. First Lieutenant Emerson, sir!”

William’s head snapped up.

“Yes, Airman,” he said, startled at the interruption. “First, we offload any civilians we’ve got and get them to the field hospital. Then we wait,” he said, turning away from the airman. “Orders will come soon enough. Plenty will need our help…” he trailed off, returning his gaze to the window, “our help…” The airman slumped back down into his seat in the cramped cabin. Across the aisle, Darrow leaned forward. “What’s wrong?” he asked the airman, gesturing to William at the window.

“It’s the lieutenant,” Connell answered. “I feel like he has this need to save everyone. Something happen to him to make him that way?”

Darrow smirked. “No one knows really, but Lieutenant Emerson lives for this job and he has incredibly high standards for everyone on his team. He will push you.”

“Hard,” Grace interjected. “He’ll send you to the edge. Even still,” he continued, “he will always have your back. If you fail, he’ll save you and the person you were trying to save.” The mountains became smaller as they neared the peninsula’s eastern coast, giving way to a mixture of large hills and shallow valleys. Ahead, they could make out the distant skyline of Incheon.

Incheon was the highly modern, booming sister city of Seoul. Just west of the capital and on the coast of the Yellow Sea, it hailed itself as one of the world’s first smart cities. Internet connected infrastructure, autonomous taxis, 3D advertising signs, and renewable energy abounded in its domain. Islands, many of them manmade, poked the shore of Incheon, interrupting what would otherwise be a gradual bowl shaped coastline extending from the border all the way down south to the city of Dangjin, almost forty miles past the city.

The pilots called out to Incheon International Airport, the location of the forward operating base, or FOB, a fancy name for a military base positioned near the action. “Incheon Tower, Valor 36 Zulu. Requesting full stop landing.” Incheon Airport was an engineering marvel, located in an administrative district of downtown Incheon called Jung-gu. Built atop reclaimed land that spanned a once open gap between Yeongjong and Yongyu islands, it was South Korea’s largest airport and often regarded as one of the best in the world. There was even an ice skating rink that was popular with off-duty soldiers.

“This is Incheon Tower to Valor 36 Zulu. Request granted. It’s good to have you home. Ambulances are standing by for your civilians.”

“Thank you, tower. It’s good to be home. We are… sixteen minutes out. Passing outer marker now.”

In a display of aerial acrobatics, the Valor weaved its way between hills and high-rise buildings in the city until it crossed the harbor that separated downtown Incheon from the airport’s island.

Despite the city’s lack of action, the signs of war were still visible. Bullet holes from aerial dogfights perforated high windows and whole corners of office towers were ripped open. Giant buildings lay alone and abandoned, condemned for fear of their structural stability and future attacks. Each one left with nothing but the wind and haze that found their way through the open floors to keep them company until their occupants returned.

Slowly, the rotors turned upwards into a vertical position and the craft descended into the airport. The rudders on the plane’s V-tail swayed back and forth, vying for control. The side doors were opened and tired legs sprawled out over the sides, ready to feel solid earth again. Fine ash from distant fires blew away under the landing plane.

“Touch down!” called one of the pilots.

William stepped out, his boots landing hard on the black tarmac, his gear heavy and hot on his back. The rotors spun to a stop.

“Welcome to our new home, boys!” he shouted as the second Valor landed close by.

Two army green HUMVEE ambulances, emblazoned with the Red Cross logo, drove over to retrieve their rescued civilians. William picked up the boy and carried him to one of the ambulances. Just before paramedics took him away, William looked at the boy and said, “I’ll come visit you tomorrow to see how you are doing.” The boy nodded and smiled, revealing missing baby teeth. He held the miniature plane out to William trying to give it back.

“No, I need you to keep it safe for me, okay?” William said softly, gently pushing the boy’s hand away. “Protect it.”

The boy wrapped his arms around William’s neck, hugging him tightly.

Even in the midst of war, Incheon still dazzled. Its empty skyscrapers sparkled from across the harbor. To William, it was a symbol of what humanity could do, and should do. War was such a waste. William hated waste. His youth taught him that there was no time for it in one’s life. On this Friday night, a city like the one before him should have been full of happiness and festivities. Instead, the streets lay quiet and bare. Only a few residents were out walking; many had left or been evacuated. Only several hundred thousand remained of what had once been over three million.

William walked casually along the airport apron, his hands in his pockets. He looked to the east, where a harbor breeze was emerging. It blew towards the base, cooling the island and pushing away the yellow haze. So far, Incheon had the nicest air he had yet to experience in his three-month tour. William closed his eyes and listened to the aircraft taking off, a smile playing on his lips.

“Hey, Lieutenant!”

William opened his eyes and spun around. It was Darrow. He was hobbling towards him on crutches.

“Lieutenant Emerson, I thought I’d catch you before turning in for the night.”

William nodded, “How are the new accommodations treating you?”

“Oh, they’re great, sir. Way better than Kunsan. If I had known war could be this comfortable, I’d have flown over here myself ages ago.”

“That’s good,” William said with a slight chuckle.

Darrow lowered his head and let the breeze move through his hair. He looked out with William over the city.

“One day I want to go to Songdo International Business District, over there.” Darrow said, using a crutch to point to an area in the southeast where towers rose out of the darkness. They sat on a section of reclaimed land past the Incheon Bridge, another mega-structure in its own right. “Online, it looked amazing.” “Yeah,” William agreed. “I’m glad it’s still mostly intact.”

They fell silent for a moment. Darrow sniffled his nose in the breeze. It was almost chilly now.

“Something tells me you didn’t limp all the way out here to just look at the night sky with me,” William said. “What’s on your mind?”

He looked at Darrow, expectant. The sergeant looked left, then right, then to William. “Sir, what did you say to that little boy back in the bus?” he asked. “How did you make him want to leave?” “I told him I’d take him on a ride in the Valor with me if he let me take him off the bus,” William replied.

“That’s it?” Darrow asked, incredulous.

“That’s it,” William grinned.

“Huh. Okay,” Darrow said, looking impressed. He shook his head. “I don’t know, sir. With you, sometimes it’s like you have a sixth sense with people.”

William patted Darrow’s shoulder. Softly, he said, “I just do what I can. I do what anyone would.”

“No, you go above and beyond. If you don’t mind me asking, sir, what made you want to become a pararescuer in the first place?”

William looked out over the runways to the black ocean beyond. He sighed deeply, trying to replace any source of light in the veil. He used to enjoy the ocean but then…

In the powerless night all my senses were tortured. I was forced to listen to my life’s destruction. I tasted dirt. I smelt the reek of loss. Through the crashing waves upon the gray sunrise I watched the ocean take her; suffocate her… He cleared his throat and turned to face Darrow. “I, uh… I wanted to make a difference in people’s lives. Help save people, keep a few more families intact.”

Darrow nodded. William shifted his weight from one leg to the other. “I should probably turn in,” he said abruptly, directing his gaze towards the base. “I have a meeting with General Rose at o-nine hundred tomorrow.” “About the invasion?” Darrow asked.

“I don’t know,” William said distractedly, slowly moving towards the barracks. “Probably. I was just told by his office to report to him at that time.”

“Probably about you losing another goddamn helmet, sir.” Darrow said jokingly.

“Yeah, probably,” William said with a half-smile.

“Anyways, good night, Lieutenant.”

“Night, Sargent,” William said. He turned and made his way back to the base, his hands still in his pockets.

The barracks were long, tented structures lining the once civilian-only terminals, now the property of international forces. Rows and rows of large forest green-colored tents were supported by yellow vertical steel trusses and cables, reminding William of the O2 Arena in far-away London. Containing mess halls, medical offices, aircraft hangars, and even barber shops, Incheon FOB was a fully functioning military machine.

Alongside all of these new wartime structures were the existing airport runways that ran from northwest to southeast, taking the heavy loads of tremendous cargo planes. Watchtowers, barbed wire, and earthen embankments marked the territory of the base within the confines of the airport, walling it off from the surrounding port that was still functioning.

Men and women were everywhere, even at this early hour, moving boxes with forklifts into trucks. It signaled the military was on the move. The airport apron was full of platoons waiting to be seated on aircraft, readying to take part in the largest international invasion force since D-Day over seventy years earlier. On his walk over to the command center, William came across M1 Abrams battle tanks and Joint Light Tactical Vehicles, the classic HUMVEE’s replacement vehicle, revving by in large convoys heading out to the front lines north through Seoul.

On loudspeakers all around the FOB and the terminal buildings, announcements were being made in a multitude of different languages: Spanish, English, French, Korean, even Japanese - after new legislation allowed for the Japanese Self-Defense Force to assist in overseas conflicts for the first time since the Second World War.

Apaches and V-22 Ospreys flew by as William entered the command center. Its coolly lit interior and relieving temperature were a welcoming break from the already sweltering day. It may have been loud and dull out there, but at least this FOB wasn’t in a sandy Afghan dune sea. William was thankful to have missed those wars. The thought of fighting terrorists, masked and unknown enemies that hid in plain sight, did not sit well with William. At least the North Koreans made sure you knew who they were. A clear-cut enemy.

“That rescue you pulled off yesterday was a good one Lieutenant,” said General Rose gratefully, sitting in his Coaster Burgundy office chair. “Excellent work. I see why you have become something of a legend around here. Your team is one of our best; it’s too bad the action is winding down already. Been barely, what, three months since our boys first got here? This little war won’t be another Iraq or Afghanistan.” “No, sir, it won’t,” said William, standing before Rose’s desk.

Rose lit a cigar and puffed it a few times, sipping in its cloud. “Listen, Will,” he said, sitting up. “You’re doing a great job out there but there have been some concerns about your behavior. You’ve rescued dozens of people out here so far and you haven’t lost anyone, yet. However, in doing so, I feel you sometimes put your men at risk in order to complete your missions… Unnecessary risk.” William felt anger welling up inside. He took a deep breath.

“Sir,” he began, his voice shaking ever so slightly, “the passion that I put into completing my missions and saving lives is the same passion I have for the safety of my men. That will never change, no matter the risk.” Automated supply trucks rumbled outside the command center, causing the general’s desk to vibrate. Pictures of the general’s family on his desk jiggled out of place. A pen clattered as it hit the floor.

“I hope you’re right, Emerson,” General Rose said, standing up. He walked over to the window and tapped the cigar against the sill. “Several of members your team have sustained sidelining injuries recently, the latest being just yesterday. I’m starting to wonder if it is the missions or you. I cannot have you making stupid, smart-ass decisions that either you or your men will regret. The way you act sometimes, it’s like you don’t fear death. A man needs a healthy fear of death to keep him in line sometimes, not an arrogance of it.” “Sir, as I said before, the safety of everyone under my command is my top priority. At the end of the day, returning them home is the only thing I want.”

Rose gave William a long judgmental stare, as though unconvinced of his answer. He puffed his cigar once more. William was now able to smell its sweet scent.

“Passion doesn’t matter if you’re dead. You’d do well to remember that, Emerson.”

Rose walked over to his desk and readjusted his pictures. He picked up a file and looked at William.

“August 25, 2020,” he said as he opened it. “That’s four days from now. That’s when you will be sent north with the invasion. I don’t see this godforsaken peninsula being two separate countries any further. Hell, even the Chinese agree. That’s why we’re taking this all the way to Pyongyang. Things could get rough along the way and I need your assurances that you will act within the confines of your orders and good judgment, understood?” “Yes, sir. I understand.”

General Rose paused, looking William over. He glanced back at the file. “Tomorrow, you and your team are shipping out to Cheorwon. We need rescue teams ready to push in past the DMZ once we retake it.” The young lieutenant quavered with excitement at the news of his orders. “I won’t let you down, sir,” he replied, trying to hide his elation.

The general just gave an appreciative smile and stuck out his hand. William shook it and smiled back.

It was now almost ten o’clock in the morning. William stood inside the base’s command center. OLED flat screens and projections covered the walls of the semi-permanent structure, displaying data, borders, aircraft whereabouts, and local weather. The projections splashed across his weary face accentuating the shadows of his features, aging him. He was holding a copy of the Korean Armistice Agreement that had been signed in 1953 ending the first Korean War. Whenever this new war was over, the UN was going to use it as a template for a peace and unification agreement. William thought it best he understood the basics of the document.

Sitting row after row, tech-savvy soldiers patrolled three, sometimes even four, computer screens at a time. The command center was filled with about fifty people, all-watching, listening. Satellite data was constantly being streamed to the FOB and interpreted before being relayed to the National Military Command Center. William eavesdropped on a nearby conversation.

“Is that earthquake there a nuke or the real thing?” asked a curious soldier to another.

“That one is real,” the second soldier replied. “We haven’t detected any nuke activity since last year.”

Intrigued, William approached their console. “How do you guys know if it’s real or fake?” he asked.

“That’s easy,” said the soldier. “In a natural earthquake, the seismic wave pattern starts out slowly and then gets stronger with time. With an explosion, the opposite happens. The shaking is quick and then gradually starts to dissipate with time. Also, we would detect a unique radioactive signature to the quake, as radiation would disperse into the ground, water, and air. Our sensors are extremely sensitive today and we have a global monitoring network. No one’s lighting off so much as firecrackers without someone knowing.” “That’s incredible,” William said, impressed. He made a mental note to remember that.

General Rose’s office was in a room in the western corner of the command center in a cubicle-like space. Blue light from the various screens illuminated the room through its clear plastic walls, giving it a soft moonlit-like glow. In his office, still puffing a cigar and sitting in his desk chair, the general was looking at some reports when a soldier ushered him out towards his console. Something was wrong. The look on the soldier’s face was that of unmistakable fear.

“Have you double-checked this?” asked the general, unease seeping into his voice.

“Yes, sir, I have, but I’m only going off satellite data. For some reason, we’ve lost contact with all ground-based sensor and radar sites along the front line about a minute before these were launched. It could suggest some kind of EMP device, sir. Maybe another cyber-attack. Two are headed for here and Seoul, the other four for Seongnam, Ulsan, Yongin, and Daejeon.” “Impossible,” the general said. “They don’t have that kind of weaponry anymore. We blew it all to hell. Are there any laser units in the targeted areas?”

“None, sir. They have all been moved to the front for the invasion, and we can’t communicate with them. All comms are dark ten miles north and south of the DMZ.”

“And we don’t have THAAD thanks to Jae-in. Damnit. Prepare a Pinnacle message to send in. Alert PACOM and get the USS Zumwalt on the line now!” said the general impatiently.

“Yes, sir. Right away!”

The soldier turned to head back to his station. Rushing forward, William caught him by the arm. “What’s happening?” William asked him.

The soldier looked flustered. “All our radar detection sites have gone down. Sats picked up six mid-range missiles launched from somewhere north of Pyongyang. They’re nuclear.”