Mark Greaney - Full Force and Effect

Adam groaned inwardly.

The minder then ran down a list of dos and don’ts that everyone must abide by while here in Korea. Some of them seemed just a little picky. No spitting on the ground, for example. But others delved into the bizarre. They were told they were not allowed to fold, crumple, or discard any picture of the Dae Wonsu. This included newspapers, magazines, and other media, all of which had photos of the Supreme Leader on virtually every page. Adam wondered how newspapers were discarded, but he knew enough not to raise his hand and draw attention to himself.

It was explained that radios were outlawed, unless they had been converted to pick up only certain stations, all of which were controlled by the central government. There were only a few television stations, they broadcast only at certain times, and even their scheduled broadcasts were subject to interruption.

Adam wasn’t in town to watch TV, but some of the others mumbled quietly in annoyance.

After the minder stepped down, a woman took the stage and began what turned out to be a fifty-minute speech about the Dae Wonsu, his father, and their special relationship with China. The North Korean leadership was spoken of in reverential terms, and the woman’s eyes misted over more than once as she talked of the Choi family, claiming it was only through their action that “big brother” China had been saved from wars and famine. She said North Korea had invented several technologies crucial in mining, computer technology, and even air travel, all of which the people in the audience benefited from greatly.

It was complete and utter lunacy, and the small crowd, mostly pulled from China’s well-educated high-tech sector, sat angry and dismayed.

This was the first time Adam had seen up close and in person this level of brainwashing, and it was chilling. These people lived in a closed society, they had no access to the Internet, satellite TV, or even most radio.

Still, Adam’s colleagues knew who was paying their wages, and they also knew who held the guns out in the hallway. While any one of these Chinese technical advisers could have stood up and announced that everything the woman said was wrong, no one did so.

When the lecture on the intellectual, cultural, and historical supremacy of North Korea was over, several armed men entered the banquet room from a door on the right, followed by an entourage of older men in business suits. In the middle of the group a small man emerged, flanked on both sides by uniformed guards. Adam craned his neck to see the top of a bald head. Soon the bald man stepped onto the little stage and up to a microphone.

He spoke in Korean, which the translator converted, but his voice was even and easy to hear, so Adam understood the gist of his words even before they were relayed in Chinese.

“Good morning, and welcome to the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea. My name is Hwang Min-ho, and I am the director of Korea Natural Resources Trading Corporation. It was I who invited you here, so I am very glad to see you all.”

Adam thought the man sounded somewhat meek and pleasant, especially in comparison to the harsh voices from most of the guards and minders he’d been in contact with since his arrival.

Hwang spoke for a while about the mine, the history of North Korea’s partnership with China on other projects, and his respect for both the nation of China and its abilities in the mining sector. His words seemed more literal, less jingoistic than those of the woman who had spoken before him, and Adam could easily read the crowd and discern their sense of relaxation.

Hwang then offered a surprisingly frank assessment of the conditions at Chongju. “You will find this facility to be more rudimentary than what you are accustomed to. We ask your patience while we build a processing facility that is state-of-the-art. It will take time. For now, however, we will start slowly and grow to greatness.”

Yao was surprised that Hwang did not show the same near-psychotic level of reverence for his own nation’s capability. Even the fact that Hwang was here addressing the Chinese workers in the first place was fascinating to the CIA non-official cover officer. He hadn’t expected to see this man in person at all.

Hwang said, “You are guest workers, but you are to be treated well. Your contract says you will work for eight weeks. Then you will be allowed one week for vacation, or, if you prefer, you can continue to work.”

A man near the front raised his hand and asked, “What is there to do around the mine on vacation?”

The director at the lectern shrugged. “Work.”

There was laughter throughout the room.

When he was finished with his presentation, Hwang Min-ho thanked everyone again and then asked, “Are there any questions?”

Adam hoped that the rest of his group would be smart enough to keep their mouths shut, but several hands shot up at once.

A middle-aged man who Adam had been told worked with electromagnetic milling machines was called on by Hwang. He asked, “Director, sir. Can you tell us about the electrical grid we will find at the facility?”

Hwang smiled a little. “We have electricity from a hydroelectric dam nearby. For times when the dam is not generating power, which is often, but not too often, we have oil generators from your country that can keep critical functions up and running. It is not Shanghai, all lights and electric trains, but electricity at Chongju is a priority during the workday.” He smiled again. “At night you must all sleep so you can work the next day. You don’t need light to sleep.”

Adam already knew the facility and even the entire city of Chongju were “lights out” for about twelve hours a day because the electricity didn’t run. He’d seen the sat images.

Another person asked the one question Adam most wanted to know the answer to. “I understand the facility is still under construction. May we know when you expect to be operational?”

Hwang replied, “Construction of the property is complete. We just received a shipment of computers that arrived last week. You all will be responsible for getting them installed and running at your various workstations. Also, there is a new shipment of industrial powder-processing equipment, and some milling equipment at the refinery that needs to be installed and tested. Other than that, there is one shipment of large equipment still on the way. It should be here very soon. My fervent hope is we will be producing refined metals within one month.”

After saying he would be spending a lot of time at the processing facility in the next few weeks to oversee the opening, Hwang left the riser to polite but genuine applause from the Chinese nationals.

—

The bus delivered the technicians to the airport and drove them directly onto the tarmac and up to their aircraft. Adam climbed out of the bus into a blustery wind that foretold a thunderstorm. He looked into the early-evening sky and saw thick dark clouds just west of the capital.

Adam found this ominous, even more so when he turned around and looked at the airplane they’d be flying to Chongju.

It was a Boeing 737 wearing the red, white, and blue markings of Air Koryo.

Adam had read somewhere that Skytrax, the world airline rating service, had reviewed and rated nearly seven hundred airlines over the globe, and they had given out but a single one-star rating.

Air Koryo, North Korea’s national airline, was the recipient.

Adam didn’t remember where he had read this fact, but as he climbed aboard the plane he wished he had forgotten it.

—

The Air Koryo flight was bad, but Adam had been on worse flights in the USA. It landed without incident at Kwaksan Airport in an evening rain shower, and the men and women were led onto another bus, and then were driven on surprisingly good roads to the city of Chongju.