FILE NO. 251

MISSION LOG—CW4 KARA RESNIK, UNITED STATES ARMY

Location: Paju, near the demilitarized zone, South Korea

—Can you hear me, Ms. Resnik? Please cough if you can hear me.

—Cough? How about I just tell you? I hear you loud and clear. I muted my comms with Alyssa. She can’t hear us.

—Good. Where are you now?

—We’re in Paju. We’re walking along the highway toward the border. We took a nice stroll in the river before that.

—Is the South Korean Army following you?

—No. There are some troops behind us across the river, but they’re not moving. This is our show now. Oh, except for that tiny jeep riding next to us on the highway. I think it’s escorting us, silly as it sounds.

—How are you feeling?

—Stiff. I’m sore all over the place.

—Has there been an incident I have not been made aware of?

—No, nothing happened. Absolutely nothing. Do you know how long it took for us to get here? Eleven days! Eleven days in a container ship, sleeping in that sorry excuse for a bunk they gave us.

We really have to do something about transport, or we need to find really patient enemies. It did give Vincent and me a chance to talk, though.

—Have you made any progress toward reconciliation?

—Eh…Can we do this another time? I’m sort of in the middle of something. Where are you calling me from anyway?

—Beijing. I still have a few friends here. I tried to win you a few extra days.

—I doubt you have any friends, anywhere.

—People who owe me favors are called friends. I asked them to stall Pyongyang for as long as they could.

—Seems to have worked. You know, I never knew it was this pretty.

—What is?

—Here. I’d never been to Korea, let alone to the border. I always imagined the demilitarized zone as something—I don’t know—rugged. Some half-plowed mine-filled dirt field with crooked barbed wire all over the place. This looks like a national park. There’s grass everywhere. It’s insanely green. Everything is really pretty, very well kept. I’m sure it would all explode if we walked over it, but still, pretty.

Can you hold on for a minute? I have to report in…

Yes, Alyssa. We’re entering the DMZ. We’re a little over a mile from the—what do they call it?—the MDL. I can see a checkpoint from here. I’ll go out on a limb and say they’ve seen us by now…No, nothing’s happening…Yep. I’ll let you know in a minute when we reach the border…

Are you there? I can’t keep turning my mic off. I can still hear you, but I won’t be able to respond.

—Very well. Just keep this channel open so I can hear you.

—All right. Here goes nothing…

Alyssa, I’m back. Yes, I was talking to Vincent…Things that don’t concern you. I thought you’d like to know we’re almost at the border. I can see troops about a mile away…I don’t know, I see a lot of tanks, maybe two hundred. I’m guessing that’s a brigade. Lots of infantry…

How am I supposed to know? They’re in tents. I can tell you there are no more than fifty thousand men here. They sure didn’t bring everyone. If they’re getting ready to march in, I don’t think this is where it’s happening. My guess is they’re just showing off…

You did ask for my opinion. You wanted to know how many troops there were. And since we’re supposed to be here to stop an invasion, I thought the fact that there just aren’t enough soldiers here to invade anything would be, you know, relevant.

Sure. We can walk to the border, but they can see us just fine from where we are if that’s what you’re worried about…We’re going. We’re going…

Vincent, that’s far enough. OK. We’re there. We’re right at the fence. There are about a hundred men, a couple trucks about two hundred feet from us…No, Alyssa. No one’s doing anything. They’re just staring at us…I’m telling you! No one’s shooting at us!…Where?

Oh, yeah. I see him. There’s one guy about a thousand feet to the side taking potshots at us with an AK…What do you want me to do? Yell at him? HEY YOU DOWN THERE! STOP SHOOTING AT OUR FEET! How’s that?

You’re kidding, right? I’m not walking into North Korea because of some kid with a peashooter. He’s probably just scared shitless…We can’t shoot back, Alyssa. We could squish him if he gets closer, but we can’t reach him from over here. No, Alyssa, we’re not under attack. I don’t care how much you wanna show off your new toy, there’s no imminent threat here…

Do you have bad reception over there? I said no. We’re not gonna pick a fight with fifty thousand men and an armored division for the fun of it…

—Do not cross that border. I do not care what Ms. Papantoniou is telling you. Do not cross.

—An order…Are you sure, Alyssa? It sounded more like a suggestion to me…

Fire me then! We were sent here to prevent something. Now we know it’s not happening. We need to pack our bags and go home…Vincent, turn us around. We’re out of here. Vincent?

—You cannot cross that border, do you hear me?!

—We’re not crossing that border! Vincent! Move! I’m not gonna say…What was that?…

Yes, I hear you, Alyssa. I think we’ve been shot at, for real this time…I don’t know, an RPG I think. Don’t you have cameras up there? You tell me what hit us…I don’t know where it came from—close, I think. I just saw something in the corner of my eye…

In the shoulder…No, we didn’t feel an explosion, more like a hum. My suit tensed up for a second but that’s about…Wait…INCOMING!!!

—Ms. Resnik? What is happening? Ms. Resnik!?…

—…We’ve been hit! We’ve been hit!…An antitank missile. It came from a launching vehicle on the west side…I felt that one. I don’t think it did any damage, but my suit is giving me some sort of feedback. That felt like an electric shock. Vincent, did you feel that too?…

Yeah. Vincent felt the same thing. Vincent, we better turn on the shield. I don’t know how many of these we can take before we discharge…Oh, and can someone tell that idiot in the jeep to get the hell away from us?

Of course, they’re shooting at us, Alyssa. They have a twenty-story alien robot on their doorstep. They have no idea what…There’s another one! INCOMING!

Turn on the shield! GO! GO! GO!…To the left, Vincent! To the left!…GOT IT!

Did you guys see that?

—I assume that is a rhetorical question? I am on the phone in China.

—No, Alyssa, that was another missile, probably an AT-5. I meant, did you see the light? I raised my arm just in time to catch it on the edge of the shield. It was weird—the shield went flat, and it turned bright, and I mean bright. We couldn’t see through it at all for a second. I wonder why it changes shape like that.

All right. This is a whole lot of fun, but what do you say we get out of here before this gets out of hand?…Yep, take us back the way we came in. Alyssa, we’re heading back…

You gotta be kidding me. How long? OK.

Vincent, there are two MIGs under way. ETA three minutes…Yeah, I say we wait here. Turn us around. If they fire, I’d rather not get hit in the back. Alyssa, we’re about a thousand feet from where we were. We’re gonna sit tight until the MIGs get here. I’m turning my coms off for a minute…

Can you stop this?

—Are you addressing me?

—Yes, Alyssa can’t hear me. Any chance you can get those MIGs to turn around?

—It pains me to say it, but that is beyond my reach.

—OK…So, any good stories to tell? I got three minutes.

—What would you like to hear?

—Anything that’ll get my mind off two MIG 21s.

—I do not believe they can destroy you.

—You’re welcome to come here and take my place.

—I will have to take a rain check on that one.

—Tell me about Beijing.

—I am the wrong person to ask. This city is filled with bad memories. I can no longer see it for what it is.

—Fine. Tell me about your childhood. Talk about dogs.

—You have just disobeyed a direct order from your superior.

—Oh, that…Yeah, if by “disobey,” you mean not do what she asked, I might have done that.

—We talked about this before. You were trained not to question orders.

—Apparently, I wasn’t trained that well.

—…

—I don’t know what to tell you. This isn’t the Army.

—Would your response have been the same had Dr. Franklin given the order?

—Probably not. Look, I’m sorry! I won’t do it again. I won’t have a chance. I don’t think Alyssa’ll send me anywhere anytime soon.

—She may not have a choice. Perhaps this is not the right time, but I fear I may not get a chance to talk to you before you get back to Puerto Rico. There has been a development, and I believe you deserve better than to find out after the fact…

—Well, can you tell me in under a minute and a half?

—Alyssa has found replacement pilots. She will want you and Vincent to start training them as soon as you get back. The person who is slated to take your station is an Israeli pilot.

—Is he any good?

—She is the best they have. I have never met her, but I have read her file, I believe you two will get along. I am more concerned with whom they found to substitute for Mr. Couture.

—Who is it?

—Ms. Papantoniou has been—shall I say—less than forthcoming on the matter, but I have learned that a certain Army pilot has just received an early release from the confinement facility at Fort Carson.

—An Army pi…Ryan? You’re joking…

—I wish I were. Unless you can think of another reason for Mr. Mitchell to book a flight to San Juan the day of his release. I am sorry. I know this must be upsetting.

—You think?! How do you think Vincent’s gonna react?…No, Vincent, it’s nothing! Well, it’s not nothing. I’ll tell you later, OK?…

She’s just nuts if she thinks he’s gonna train him…You were right, though. You picked one heck of a time to tell me…

—I know.

—Oh, shit, they’re here. Gotta go.

—Good luck…

—…

—Ms. Resnik?

—…

—Ms. Resnik. Are you there?