“You’re just in time,” Jin told him. “We’re cleaning house, and you’re the last bit of trash we need to get rid of.”
“You used me,” Euikon said. “Why?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the major responded. He turned to the guards who’d apprehended the private. “Line him up with the others so we can get on with this.”
As the guards moved toward Euikon, he took a step back from them, shaking his head. “No,” he protested, glancing around at the other soldiers stationed around the compound. “I’ve been set up! I was only acting on orders!”
He was about to explain in detail how Major Jin had ordered him to kill General Oh and Park Yo-Wi, but before he could get the first words out, Jin calmly withdrew his service revolver and fired. Euikon twitched as the shot ripped through his chest. He stared at Jin, eyes filled with rage, but as the life began to fade from his gaze, the major raised his gun higher and put a second slug through the private’s forehead.
Jin watched the private collapse to the ground, then turned to the row of soldiers lined up in front of the prisoners who’d been marked for execution.
“That’s how it’s done,” he told them. “Let’s get on with it!”
As the soldiers slowly raised their rifles in unison, Lim Seung-Whan pulled his family close beside him. Na-Li was sobbing disconsolately and her mother was in tears, as well, as was the family of Ji Lhe-Kan. Prync Gil-Su and the organizers of the failed revolt, however, refused to display any emotion. They solemnly stared down the barrels of the rifles aimed their way, resigned to their fate. Sergeant Dahn did likewise, although he allowed his gaze to stray past the prison yard to the nearby bungalow, where Lieutenant Corporal Yulim had just emerged and was heading down the walkway so that he could witness the executions.
“Ready…” Major Jin shouted.
The executioners steadied their rifles against their shoulders and peered through the sights, lining up their targets.
“Aim…”
The riflemen placed their fingers on the carbines’ triggers and were about to unleash their lethal volley when they were distracted momentarily by the sound of a racing engine.
Major Jin heard the sound, as well, and glanced over his shoulder, puzzled. Seconds later, a jeep roared into view, with a man in the back crouched behind the barrel of a swivel-mounted .50-caliber Browning machine gun.
BEFORE THE COMMANDEERED convoy had resumed its trek to Changchon, Mack Bolan had suggested the ops crew have the Browning-mounted jeep lead the way instead of bringing up the rear. Since both jeeps as well as the missile transporter had sustained broken windows in the firefight, his feeling had been that anyone taking a close look at the vehicles as they approached the old mining facility would be suspicious and, as such, it might be a good idea to be able, if need be, to come in firing.
Within seconds after the jeep came within view of the converted camp, Bolan was glad the Rangers had gone with his instincts. He didn’t know if Akira Tokaido and the other ops team had managed to position themselves around the site, but there was no time to bother with signals or waiting for the transporter and second jeep to catch up with him.
“Hit the brakes!” he shouted to the soldier driving the jeep. He was already swiveling the Browning into firing position, and once the jeep had come to a stop, he opened up on full-automatic. Another Ranger crouched in the rear of the vehicle helped to feed the ammo belt through the machine gun.
The merciless stream of .50-caliber slugs had little problem finding its way through the perimeter fences, and before Major Jin’s firing squad could carry out its executions, the strafing rounds chewed into them with pulverizing force. In mere seconds, half of the men had been killed outright and another three more were down and bleeding from mortal wounds. The remaining four Koreans had suddenly become less interested in carrying out Jin’s orders than making sure that they wouldn’t be the next to fall to the Browning’s brutal onslaught. They turned heel and scrambled desperately for the nearest cover, a trio of empty ore carts. Jin was right behind them, cursing as he yanked out his service revolver. The would-be victims of the firing squad, meanwhile, took advantage of their reprieve and dived to the ground, then followed Lim Seung-Whan’s lead and crawled their way behind the rock pile.
“What’s happening?” Na-Li cried as she joined her father.
“I’m not sure,” Lim confessed, “but let’s pray it means we still have a chance to get through this.”
Soon the entire encampment was alive with gunfire. Sentries who’d just taken over posts in the lookout towers suddenly found themselves being picked off by unseen snipers. Those not killed by the first round of fire ducked behind the thin walls encircling their platforms, only to find themselves targeted by follow-up shots that had little trouble penetrating the wooden planks.