Chapter 293: On a Different Level (1)
Kang Chan arrived at Athens Airport an hour before evening. Once he had settled into his seat in the civilian plane from South Korea, they began to prepare for takeoff. They drove down the runaway and ascended to a cruising altitude before the seatbelt sign was turned off, signaled by three beeps.
Following Kang Chan's lead, all the agents stood up and began unpacking their large bags, which contained everything they needed—military uniforms, helmets, radios, night vision goggles, vests, and essential weaponry like rifles, pistols, magazines, grenades, and knives.
Click! Click!
Dressed in his usual light-gray military uniform, Kang Chan, as always, strapped a pistol to his right waist and left ankle, then his knife to his right ankle. He put two rifle magazines at the back of his waist and four in his vest along with grenades. Afterward, he put pistol magazines on the sides of his waist and vest.
Kang Chan then looked around, finding Kang Chul-Gyu already done preparing, his rifle casually slung by his side. He was armed with a K7 submachine gun fitted with a silencer and a 30-round magazine.
Both Lee Doo-Hee and the Jeungpyeong special forces armed themselves with sniper rifles, but the Jeungpyeong special forces team also brought C4s, grenade launchers, and specialized equipment with them. This was Kang Chan’s first operation alongside the DMZ team. Unlike the others, they had fastened leather straps around their left shoulders so they could arrange their knives for quick draw, evoking the image of warriors from Chinese films.
Kwon Yong-Hee, the one who had asked the question earlier, pursed his lips tightly, his gaze intently fixed on the South Korean flag attached to the lower part of the leather strap on his left forearm. It wasn’t just him either. Their entire team regarded the South Korean flag in their arms. Some were even gently caressing it gently.
"While the search and rescue teams wore red unit markings and the South Korean flag, we have never gotten the opportunity to wear anything like that until now," Kang Chul-Gyu quietly explained, locking eyes with Kang Chan.
Fully armed and wearing military uniforms, the DMZ team now emitted a sharp, domineering aura. However, they still had one reason for concern among their ranks—Oh Gwang-Taek.
"Woah! To think I would finally get to wear a South Korean flag... Damn!" Oh Gwang-Taek commented.
Although it was only a murmur, everyone still heard him.
Fortunately, Kang Chul-Gyu’s gaze was telling Kang Chan not to worry. They seemed to have suddenly gotten unexpectedly close, but under the circumstances, this level of camaraderie was acceptable.
Drrrrruk.
Lee Doo-Hee and Um Ji-Hwan wheeled two carts of food to the front. Their dinner, composed of white rice, mildly flavored kimchi, and bulgogi, could be considered luxurious. The portions were generous enough for many to have seconds.
After the meal, most of them enjoyed canned coffee except for Kang Chan and Choi Jong-Il, who opted for instant coffee they prepared themselves. Darkness had enveloped everything outside the plane. Considering they'd be heading out into operations as soon as they landed, the atmosphere of the cabin was naturally heavy.
"Can I smoke?" Choi Jong-Il asked.
"Anyone wanna stop him?" Kang Chan replied, giving his tacit approval.
Receiving a nod from Kang Chan, everyone comfortably lit up their own cigarettes. Kang Chan then gestured at Choi Jong-Il to come with him. Together, they headed to the galley at the front.
“Draw the curtains," Kang Chan instructed.
Whoosh. Swish.
He then added, "Give me a cigarette."
Having been in a hospital, it had been a while since he last fully enjoyed the pleasure of smoking.
Click.
Oddly enough, Kang Chan found comfort in drinking instant coffee and smoking with Choi Jong-Il.
"Is it because of Kang sunbae?" asked Choi Jong-Il. When Kang Chan gazed at him, he nodded in understanding. "Given the age difference, we do feel a bit hesitant to smoke around him.”
Damn!
They were on their way to an operation right now. They didn’t even know who would make it back alive. Fussing over age differences when it came to smoking now of all times seemed pointless to Kang Chan.
If it was an issue, it would have been better not to join the same operation in the first place.
Unfortunately, Kang Chul-Gyu was his father. How could he comfortably smoke in his presence? The French, at least, understood how to enjoy a cigarette without concern.
Whoosh.
The curtain was suddenly pulled open, and Oh Gwang-Taek walked in.
"What are you doing here?" Oh Gwang-Taek asked.
"Just smoking," Kang Chan casually replied.
Oh Gwang-Taek glanced back and then moved closer to Kang Chan.
"I came for some coffee. Got any instant ones?" Oh Gwang-Taek sheepishly asked as he peered at the table. He still seemed to feel a bit awkward around Choi Jong-Il.
Choi Jong-Il swiftly prepared a cup of instant coffee for him. "Here you go.”
"I'll be outside, sir," he then added before exiting into the cabin and drawing the curtain behind him.
Kang Chan fetched some hot water and made himself a cup of instant coffee as well. Afterward, he and Oh Gwang-Taek each took a cigarette.
Click.
The flame of a lighter always brought Kang Chan comfort.
"Hoo. I've got a favor to ask," Oh Gwang-Taek began. When Kang Chan looked at him, he exhaled another long stream of smoke. "Even if I die, my wife and daughter will have enough to live on."
Kang Chan took a sip of his coffee as he listened intently.
"Still, if you can, please check in on them from time to time. Make sure they aren't bullied for not having a dad."
Kang Chan smiled faintly, causing Oh Gwang-Taek to frown. The latter rubbed his cigarette in a paper cup.
"I know, I know. A thug taking care of his kid? Crazy! Even so, my daughter's innocent. I left that life behind for her."
"Oh Gwang-Taek," Kang Chan called.
"What?"
Sizzle.
After extinguishing his cigarette in the paper cup, Kang Chan looked up.
"Don’t stray too far from Director Kang."
"Who do you think I am—"
"It’s not about being cowardly. You have to watch how he moves according to the situation and how he leads the team. Learn everything you can from him," Kang Chan said.
A sense of duty showed in Oh Gwang-Taek’s expression.
"There’s only a few like him in South Korea. Director Kim Tae-Jin and even the Presidential Security Service acknowledge him, so do your best to learn. Survive no matter what happens so that next time, you can lead the younger ones."
"Hoo... got it," Oh Gwang-Taek replied with a nod. He then looked beyond the curtain.
He clearly was not the kind of man they should send to a negotiation table.
Although Oh Gwang-Taek had returned to his seat, Kang Chan remained leaning against the serving table. He had handed maps with the target locations marked to Kang Chul-Gyu and Kwak Cheol-Ho and ensured that they knew how to get there. They would also be assigned a guide who could speak Korean upon arrival at the airport.
Moreover, he had also advised them to either turn back or hold their ground if they ever felt as if something was off about the operation. Was there anything else he had missed?
Kang Chan slowly went over everything once more.
***
Abibu hung up the phone with a troubled expression. The United States had completely turned its back on them, citing the transfer of funds to Brandon's account as the reason.
The Quds, Iran's special forces team, had virtually dried up in Africa, not because they needed help but rather because they needed to provide it. Abibu was annoyed by South Korea, a small country which was an unexpected obstacle as they willingly bowed deeply and tried to lure in oil supply and construction contracts.
They needed a solution—a way to maintain at least a shred of dignity...
Vrrrrr. Vrrrrr. Vrrrrr.
The phone rang, interrupting his thoughts.
"Hello?" Abibu answered.
- It might be best to turn a blind eye this time.
The voice, seemingly trying to soothe him, forced a difficult choice upon Abibu.
- The Tyrrhenian Sea is under France's watch, and the Mediterranean is under the US’. Moreover, as I’m sure you already know, Algeria is France's domain.
"What about Egypt?"
- The UK and Israel are pressuring them due to the Suez Canal situation.
"Chad? Sudan?"
- The Foreign Legion's special forces team has assembled right next to Congo. Pretending to help Libya alone could change the regimes in those two countries. Remember, their commander is Gérard.
Abibu sighed softly. This was the first time the golden decor and goblets on his table felt so powerless.
"What if I offer more money?"
The person on the other end of the call paused for a moment before responding.
- Lanok and Sherman are practically holding hands. Sometimes conceding is not a bad option. Russia, the UK, and Germany also have special forces teams on standby, ready to go to war if anyone intervenes.
"We only killed a few intelligence agents," Abibu stated, clearly infuriated.
- The problem isn’t the death of the South Korean agents. It’s the fact that you attacked the rescue team that the God of Blackfield sent.
"Is there no other way out of this than letting our warriors get killed?"
- It could have ended with just a few casualties back then. Now? We'd be lucky if this ends with only the death of the key UIS personnel in Libya.
"They have less than fifty Korean soldiers! I heard twenty of them have already retired!" Abibu yelled in frustration.
When the person he was talking to didn’t reply, he quickly added, "Hmm, I apologize for raising my voice.”
- I understand.
The voice over the phone was still soft.
- The God of Blackfield, their commander, is what makes those less than fifty Koreans frightening. Should he decide to see this all the way through, the US would bomb Libya, and France would swiftly take over.
"Kill him. I will pay whatever it costs."
- Do you think you can buy us with money?
Abibu was rendered speechless.
- In the not-so-distant future, Korea will become a battlefield. It would be best to conserve your resources and forces for now.
"We’ve already lost Quds in Africa. If I don't help our warriors either, how would I be able to justify it?"
- Sometimes, gold offers more comfort than words.
The call ended in a soft but final tone, informing Abibu that this matter had already been concluded.
- We will bear good news soon.
Before Abibu could even respond, the caller hung up. Abibu’s pride, which he had tried so hard to protect, had been shattered.
***
Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding.
The seatbelt sign flashed on with four beeps. The plane banked left, giving the people on that side a good view of the sparsely lit city.
It was almost time to disperse.
Click. Click.
Kang Chan walked toward the middle seats where Kwak Cheol-Ho and the agents were sitting.
"Let's end this with a bang," he said, playfully patting Kwak Cheol-Ho's helmet.
Tap. Tap.
Following their ritual, Kwak Cheol-Ho reached out and tapped Kang Chan's helmet in return. Despite the low morale, Kang Chan went around doing the same thing to the entire Jeungpyeong special forces team, encouraging them to return it.
The last he patted was Yoon Sang-Ki.
"Make sure you walk back this time."
"I'll wipe them all out, sir.”
These battle-hardened warriors had been together in France, China, North Korea, and Afghanistan. The trust between them would be a source of great strength for them during critical moments.
Behind Yoon Sang-Ki was the DMZ team.
Kang Chan looked up and locked eyes with Kwon Yong-Hee.
"It's a good sight," Kwon Yong-Hee murmured, a mix of envy and regret in his voice.
Smirking, Kang Chan sidestepped to stand next to him.
"Please avenge our people who suffered unjust deaths,” he said.
At the same time, he extended his arm to tap Kwon Yong-Hee's helmet. Kwon Yong-Hee, in his mid-forties, cautiously responded. He looked a little awkward doing it.
The soldier sitting next to him was the one who had asked in Mongolia if it was okay to raise the South Korean flag.
"Show the UIS the terror of the DMZ team," Kang Chan said.
He then reached out to the soldier’s helmet. The soldier returned the gesture more naturally than Kwon Yong-Hee did.
Starting with Kwak Cheol-Ho, the Jeungpyeong special forces team stood up and began to follow Kang Chan. The National Intelligence Service agents lined up behind them.
"Sunbae-nim! After this is all over, we'll treat you to something nice.”
"You people are our hope. You all better be alive when we get back.”
Kwon Yong-Hee, with reddening eyes, tapped Kwak Cheol-Ho's helmet.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
While smiling and tapping each other’s helmets, they exchanged a variety of encouragements and engaged in banter typical among close acquaintances.
"You bastard! How do you come up with this stuff?" Oh Gwang-Taek joked as he, too, joined in on their ritual.
Amid the emotional stir, Kang Chan's gaze met with Kang Chul-Gyu’s, who was sitting at the back.
Kang Chan took a step to the side, then another. He could feel awkwardness spreading through him, almost as if ants were crawling up his back. He didn't know how the mission would turn out—who would die and who would return alive. For all he knew, this might even be the last time he and Kang Chul-Gyu would exchange words.
"Old man," Kang Chan called.
Kang Chul-Gyu smirked softly, his expression showing gratitude for the mere attempt at conversation. Seeing his face, which seemed to refuse to ask for more, Kang Chan suddenly remembered Kang Dae-Kyung.
Perhaps Kang Chul-Gyu laughed, considering the hope for a safe return as perhaps too optimistic. What he truly aimed to express was a simple wish—to live and remain cautious.
With Kwak Cheol-Ho tapping helmets with Oh Gwang-Taek, Kang Chan's time to step aside drew nearer. Until the very last moment, Kang Chul-Gyu refused to avert his gaze.
In the end, Kang Chan reached out and tapped Kang Chul-Gyu's helmet.
Tap. Tap.
‘Come back alive.’
Instead of returning the favor, Kang Chul-Gyu just smirked again.
This old man! I went through all that awkwardness and embarrassment from extending my hand just to receive a smirk in return? So damn stubborn!
Kang Chan turned away and moved aside, letting Kwak Cheol-Ho follow him to the front. The alarm rang four times as the plane began its descent. At the same time, the lights dimmed, prompting everyone to finish their greetings and take their seats.
Grrrrrrr.
The flaps of the wings began to fold, decelerating the plane as it prepared for landing.
Vrrrrr. Vrrrrrrrrrr!
Whoooo-ang!
Amid the vibration of the runway and the engine roars, the plane finally began to slow to a stop. Soon, the lights turned back on.
Click. Click. Click.
Immense tension filled the plane as everyone conducted a final check of their weapons. As soon as they disembarked, they would be splitting into the teams they were assigned to. In order, the Jeungpyeong special forces team, DMZ team, and National Intelligence Service team would descend the stairs, board the vehicles waiting for them, and depart immediately.
Whoooo-ang!
As the plane slowly turned at the end of the runway, Kwak Cheol-Ho’s voice, filled with metallic vigor, rang out.
"Sunbae-nim! We will see you all again for sure! Your juniors are proud of you!"
The older members of the DMZ team turned to Kwak Cheol-Ho.
"Show our sunbaes our resolve!"
Kwak Cheol-Ho rallied the soldiers and agents behind him.
“What’s our motto?!"
"If I can!"
Whoooo-ang!
The plane had almost stopped now.
"Protect my country with my blood!"
Kwon Yong-Hee, with tearful eyes, stared at everyone before him.
"I am happy!"
Although it might have seemed somewhat childish, a warm and fervent spirit was shared among them, eliciting a curse from Oh Gwang-Taek.
"Damn it!"
Whoooo-ang!
The plane finally jerked to a stop.
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