January 1, 2020, 09:30

  Blue House State Reception House, Seoul.

  When President Suh Hyun-woo appeared for his New Year’s address, some 300 people at the State Reception House welcomed him with warm applause. Moments later, he stood at the podium.

  His appearance was instantly followed by the shutter sound of dozens of journalists’ cameras going off all at once. Broadcasting crews were also there, and they broadcast coverage of his address throughout the country.

  “Thank you. Thank you. Would you please sit down so I can start my address? Hahaha,” said the president, tongue-in-cheek, when the applause didn’t die down.

  Those present at the State Reception House smiled and took their seats.

  “People might think you are all my close friends and relatives,” joked the president again, probably intending to lighten the atmosphere before starting his speech. The guests responded to his joke by laughing again.

  “First, I want to greet you more properly before I make my New Year’s address,” he said.

  The president stepped to the side of the podium and bowed low to his audience.

  Then, he moved back to the podium and brought the microphone closer to his mouth.

  “My fellow citizens, Happy New Year 2020, the Year of the Rat! Four years have passed since the inauguration of the reform government, and I have less than a year before I leave office. People say time flies, and I never realized how fast it flies until now.”


  The president flashed a little smile before he continued.

  “The Republic of Korea had to endure a time of great suffering in the wake of the 2015 Pyongyang bombing. It was a time when the economy suffered, the country suffered, and the people suffered as well. But the Republic of Korea eventually achieved such remarkable growth that one might wonder if anything had ever happened. I believe this would not have been possible had it not been for the tears, sweat, and firm commitment of our citizens, who have never lost hope. As your president, I wanted to thank all my fellow citizens for their hard work before I address the reform policies that our government pursued, day and night, over the past four years. I promised the people a few things in my inaugural speech as the newly-elected president.

  “Firstly, we have improved the integrity of our government by strengthening our efforts to eliminate corruption in national defense, corruption in government projects, and all other kinds of corruption, such as rogue government officials taking bribes, seeking illegal solicitations, and embezzling public funds.

  “Secondly, we have corrected our distorted history by tracking down and exposing anti-nationalist, pro-Japan Koreans and what they did during the last seventy years. Their assets were retrieved and deposited into the state coffers so that we could use the money to fund long overdue welfare policies for those who fought for our national independence, as well as their descendants. Looking back, I believe it was then that we laid the groundwork for a nation that is truly built for the people and for justice, even though we were going through numerous events that made headlines in the media and press.

  “Thirdly, we were challenged with the recovery of the struggling Korean economy. Dozens and even hundreds of companies and private businesses went out of business or bankrupt on a daily basis due to the recession, and countless people lost their jobs. But the Republic of Korea rose again thanks to the hardworking spirit of the Korean people, not to mention their confidence and strength. In addition, the reform government implemented step-by-step economic recovery policies, and new technologies were developed through the cooperation between the government and businesses, allowing the Republic of Korea to enter the global market again. Eventually, we were able to revive the domestic market and reduce unemployment. All these changes translated into a booming and growing domestic market. I spoke so much at once that I’m thirsty. Please allow me to have a glass of water before I continue.

  “I think it’s time for us to use our remarkable economic growth as a springboard into the outer world. After having lost our sovereignty in 1910, numerous Koreans were forced to leave and work in the bitter cold Siberian regions as lumberjacks, or in Japan as coal miners or laborers for Japanese war criminal companies. They were never able to return home, and we haven’t been able to tell them to come back. Why? Because our country had no power or money. But wouldn’t it be possible now? When I say this, I’m sure some people might ask, Considering how the nation’s economy has only recently improved, wouldn’t it be too soon to think about spending taxpayer money on bringing back Korean expatriates? I want to ask them, Haven’t we developed enough economically to bring them home? Don’t you think we can afford to finally embrace them? They share the same Korean blood with us. Given that, where will they go if we leave them, our own fellow Koreans, abandoned like that?”


  A thunderous applause erupted in the State Guest House, which made the president pause his speech for a while and look at his audience. When the sound of the applause died down, he continued his speech.

  “I think it’s very overdue now. My fellow citizens, even if you had just one day to live, wouldn’t you want to spend that day with your family at home? That said, I would like to propose a policy to support and embrace all Korean expatriates who wish to return to their families and homes in the homeland. I want to ask you, the National Assembly members and fellow citizens who are watching this speech right now, won’t you join and work together as one to make this wonderful thing happen?”


  President Suh Hyun-woo’s New Year’s speech lasted for an hour. Koreans from all over the country, as well as numerous Korean expats overseas, watched the TV coverage of his speech. In particular, his speech brought tears to the eyes of Korean expats in Russia, Japan, and China, who had lived away from home for all those years in deep sorrow, and also made them let go of their equally deep resentments. It also rocked the Republic of Korea, where many social groups voiced their approval and kicked off fund-raising campaigns to support the president’s Korean expat engagement policy.

  * * *

  January 4, 2020, 11:30 (10:30 EST, U.S.)

  USSC villa outside Washington D.C.

  Thirteen people in black suits and black masks sat around a big round table. They were the members of the United States Supreme Security Council (USSC). The meeting was conducted in a gloomy atmosphere, and there was only one final agenda left.

  “The plan is ready. All that awaits is your final decision. Now, raise your hand if you approve this plan,” asked a female member in a black mask. She looked at the other black-masked members, and a few black-masked people raised their hands.

  “I have eight votes. Then, the decision is made to proceed with the plan as scheduled. Mr. Sphinx, please make sure everything goes smoothly.”


  “Of course. I’ll take care of it as neatly as I did four years ago.”


  “Great. Then I’ll end today’s meeting here.”


  * * *

  January 5, 2020, 10:30

  Jugam Service Area on Gyeongbu Expressway in Cheongwon County, North Chungcheong Province.

  An Yeon-wu, the manager of the Counter-terrorism Investigation Unit 1, parked his car at the Jugam Service Area, then walked to the back of the rest area. A moment later, he reached the back of the building, where he could see another small building, which was guarded by a soldier in state-of-the-art personal gear.

  “Is this it?”


  A first-time visitor, An Yeon-wu awkwardly opened the door and walked in. He was instantly stopped by two soldiers carrying K2 rifles.

  “May I help you, sir?” asked one of the soldiers, who seemed to be the older of the two.

  “My name is An Yeon-wu. This is where I came from.”


  An Yeon-wu gave his name while presenting his NIS (National Intelligence Service) ID. The soldier took the ID and verified it by placing it on a small machine on the desk behind him.

  A moment later, the soldier gave back him back his ID card and said, “Please write down your name in the visitor log, and go to the elevator over there. It’s on the fifth floor underground.”


  “Thank you.”


  An Yeon-wu took back his ID and headed to the elevator, thinking, “Jeez. It’s scarier here than in the NIS.”


  An Yeon-wu took the elevator, went down to the fifth floor underground, and got off. No sooner had he stepped out than he was approached by several soldiers and men in black again.

  “Please let me search you first. Put everything you have in the basket here and go through there,” a man in a black suit said, holding out a basket and pointing to a booth resembling ones found in airport security.

  When An Yeon-wu passed through the booth, another man in black suit returned the basket to him and said, “The bus will be here in ten minutes. You may wait there in the waiting room.”


  An Yeon-wu could see many others sitting inside the waiting room. “Thank you.”


  He walked into the waiting room, which was made of glass panels, and sat there for a while until he saw a minibus arriving. The people in the waiting room quickly went to the bus, and An Yeon-wu followed them.

  “From now on, you are not allowed to use a camera or cell phone to take pictures,” a man in black cautioned.

  An Yeon-wu walked past him and got on the minibus, which then began to move slowly toward a brightly-lit tunnel.

  * * *

  January 5, 2020, 10:50

  Olympus Base on Bongmu Mountain in Cheongju, North Chungcheong Province.

  The minibus moved through the long tunnel for about five minutes before stopping at the entrance to a sprawling underground square. People started getting off the bus, apparently because it was the last stop, and An Yeon-wu got off too.

  “I can’t believe a large underground square like this exists,” An Yeon-wu thought. “And why are there so many soldiers?”


  Dozens of fully armed soldiers, each wearing a K2 rifle and personal gear, stood guard, while men in black suits guided visitors from the entrance to the building.

  Moments later, An Yeon-wu entered the building and stepped into No. 3 screening booth, one of several check points. CCTVs were installed in every corner of the ceiling, in addition to the other strict security measures, such as the men in black suits who stood guard in the hallway, closely watching every move of the visitors like hawks, their eyes hidden by their sunglasses.

  “Show me your ID, please,” the search agent said. “Leave all your possessions in the locker here. You can’t bring anything inside. You can take them back when you leave.”


  In response, An Yeon-wu showed an official request for cooperation issued by the NIS, along with his ID. “This is why I came here. I have an appointment at eleven o’clock,” he said.

  Upon hearing this, the search agent read the official document slowly, called someone up on the phone, exchanged a few words with them, then gave An Yeon-wu his ID back. “Pass through the security booth and take the No.4 elevator,” he told him. “Get off on the seventeenth floor underground. Somebody will be waiting for you there.”


  “Really? Thank you.”


  After giving a short thank you to the agent, An Yeon-wu passed through the security booth. He passed through without any alarms going off, but a few men in black suits searched him from top to bottom with a scanner again before gesturing that he was good to go.

  “The security here is on a whole different level compared to the NIS,” he exclaimed to himself as he followed the search agent’s instructions and started walking toward the No.4 elevator.