NORTH KOREA AIR FORCE
COMMAND CENTER
PYONGYANG
Commander Rok stood above a large rectangular screen which displayed live radar of the moving helicopter—as well as the inbound missile. The two objects were on a collision course.
Several other senior KPAF officers and staff were standing around the satellite console.
“Are backup missiles locked?” said Rok.
“Yes, Colonel. We’re locked and loaded. But the first two missiles are tracking for a direct hit.”
“Nevertheless, I want the backups ready. The Americans have various evasion technologies.”
“Yes, sir. Three missiles are prepared to move at a moment’s notice.”
Rok put his finger against the digital red box—the estimated collision point between missile and helicopter. He drew a line from the estimated collision point to Pyongyang: ninety-two kilometers.
“Dispatch a heavy brigade from the reconnaissance unit,” said Rok, without looking up. “I want a full capability set on-site as soon as possible. That includes fire teams, forensics, emergency medical care, and of course recon. If there’s anyone alive, we are to use all efforts to capture them—alive. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Colonel. I took the liberty of ordering just such a precaution, sir. They are en route to the estimated control point.”
“Very good.”
The voice of Rhee came over the loudspeaker.
“Colonel, we are under twenty seconds until impact,” said Rhee.
The group stood before the screen and watched as the two objects grew closer and closer. Suddenly, they merged.
“Target in five, four, three, two, one…”
A moment later, the screen flashed once, then both lights disappeared.
“We have an affirmative hit,” said Rhee.