Over the past weeks Prync’s time had been divided between the mines and the rock pile, and during that period he’d overheard enough other tales of wrongful imprisonment to forever shatter his delusions about Kim Jong-il and the DRNK party apparatus he controlled. Far from rehabilitated, Prync had been turned into a revolutionary, and these days he lived for the chance to help wrest Kim from power. First, however, there was the matter of getting out of prison.
None of the others argued Prync’s call to move up the timetable for action. In fact, his closest colleague and confidant at the camp, Vae Jae-Bong, a former college instructor at Kim Il-Sung University in Pyongyang, was quick to second Prync’s motion.
“We have everything in position,” said the one-time professor of anthropology. “I know we said that we were going to wait for the rainy season, but the more we delay, the more deaths there will be.”
“And the greater chance that they’ll learn of our plot,” whispered another of the men.
“There remains the problem of subduing the guards,” Prync replied. He turned to Vae. “Has the trustee come down in his price yet?”
Vae shook his head grimly. “I spoke to Chung-Hee today. He’s holding firm.”
Prync cursed under his breath. Ahn Chung-Hee headed up the camp kitchens and was responsible not only for prisoner rations, but also meals for Lieutenant Corporal Yulim and the entire camp’s security detail. Ahn had access to the black market and claimed it might be possible for him some morning to lace the soldiers’ food with enough morphine and tranquilizers to dull their senses or possibly even incapacitate them for a few hours, greatly increasing the chances of a successful prison uprising. The cost for his treachery was high, however, and no one at the camp had the means by which to smuggle in enough cash to meet his price.
“Tell him we’ll pay him double once we’re free,” Prync suggested.
“I already tried that,” Vae replied. “He agreed, but only if we can come up with at least half the money up front.”
“How does he expect us to do that?” Prync snarled with exasperation.
“We’re shut off from the outside. There’s no way for us to get our hands on that kind of money. He knows that!”
“I’ve told him as much,” Vae said. “He doesn’t care. All he says is, ‘Where there is a will, there is a way.’”
Prync cursed again. For their plan to work it would be necessary to neutralize the guards, especially those that manned the watchtowers and main gates. True, the prisoners could just start a full-scale riot and hope to gain the upper hand in the commotion, but the odds of triggering a massacre were far greater than any chance of success. There was no way around it; they needed the trustee’s help.
A fourth man in the huddle finally spoke up for the first time. “What about him?” he said, gesturing across the barracks.
Prync glanced over his shoulder and saw that the man was pointing at Lim Seung-Whan, who was asleep on the floor next to his wife and daughter.
“What help is he going to be?” Prync asked.
The fourth man—a shoe cobbler named Reir Jin-Tack whose great crime had been the theft of two radishes three years ago from a corner vendor in Haeju—said, “I understand he is from the south. I heard one of the guards say he was kidnapped at sea the other day in a large yacht. He has to be wealthy.”
“So what if he is?” Prync countered. “Here he’s wearing the same rags as us. He doesn’t have money on him.”
“Maybe not,” Reir said, “but if he can finance our back end, maybe we can go back to Ahn with another offer. We can say we’ll triple the price if he’ll lower the amount he wants up front.”
Prync was still hesitant. So was Vae Jae-Bong.
“He might be a plant,” the professor suggested, eyes on Lim. “He was pulled from the rations line tonight and taken to see the commandant. Maybe he’s been placed here to keep an eye on us.”
“Or maybe he was taken to Yulim to discuss ransom matters,” Reir Jin countered. “At least, that’s what I heard the guards say.”
Prync weighed the matter for a moment, then told the group, “Let me talk to him in the morning. I have a good sense about people. I’ll be able to tell if he’s working for Yulim or not.”
“And if he is?” Vae asked.
“If it turns out he’s working with the commandant,” Prync said ominously, “I’ll see to it that he regrets it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Laughlin, Nevada
John Kissinger was ready to do some interrogating.