here.” “Tran loud and clear.” He motioned them up to him. “We go straight east into the countryside. Quinn said we should have about ten miles before we hit that highway K-12. Tran out front by forty. Let’s choggie.” The coastal plain turned out to be highly cultivated, with small plots of land hemmed in by dikes where the farmers grew rice and vegetables. They picked their way along the dikes for half a mile before they came to a black topped road that led north and south hugging the coast. Wrong road. Hunter pointed on ahead and they were just off the roadway into some brush along a creek when a convoy of army trucks rumbled along the coast road. It included a jeep in front with ten two and a half ton trucks behind it that could be filled with infantrymen or supplies for some army post. They headed across fields again and ten minutes later, Tran gave them a sharp hand signal to hit the dirt. “Cap, something weird up here,” Hunter’s earpiece sounded. “You best come take a look.” Hunter worked up to here Tran lay in some weeds next to a dike. He peered over the dike the direction Tran pointed. Here they were out of the coastal plain and into some low hills with terraced land cultivated on every conceivable inch of soil. They had seen few buildings. No farm structures as they knew them. An occasional shed perhaps for tools. In a small valley just ahead they saw what could only be a lighted, active bivouac army camp that could hold two hundred men. There were kitchens, large tents for sleeping, a motor pool with jeeps and six by trucks. The purr of generator engines drifted up from the valley. “A training set up out here in the boonies?” Tran asked. “Let’s hope they aren’t on night maneuvers,” Hunter said. Chang bellied down beside the other two and looked into the valley. “Holy shit.” “We’re on the northern edge of their latchup,” Tran said. “I suggest we take a hard northern route for two miles before we head on east.” “Go,” Hunter said. They filed out moving north and soon saw a small group of buildings that looked like it might be a communal center. A dog barked and then quieted. They circled a half mile around the buildings before they went back on the north trek. It was just past midnight when they came to a blacktopped road running generally north and south. “Has to Be K-12,” Tran said. “Not much traffic.” The two lane highway was dark for as far as they could see both directions. “We grab a car or a truck and quicken our time into Sunan?” Chang asked. They saw headlights coming south well down the road. “Give me your MP-5, Cap,” Tran said. “I’ve got an idea. I’ll tell the driver we’re on maneuvers with the army playing foreign spies. Our job is to try to get away from the maneuvers while they try to catch us.” “Might work,” Hunter said. “If it doesn’t we can use other more deadly persuasion.” Tran took the MP-5 sub machine gun and stood in the middle of the road while the other two knelt down just outside of where the splash of the headlights would be. The car kept coming but slowed when its lights picked up the figure in the roadway. Tran held the sub gun across his chest so it would be easy to see. The rig was an old pickup and it slowed, but turned to angle around Tran. Then the driver evidently changed his mind and stopped. Tran walked up to the driver’s side and told his story. At first the driver was suspicious. “Didn’t see any army,” the driver said in Korean. He was in his late fifties, a farmer by the looks Tran figured. Tran answered him in the same language. “That’s their job to stay hidden so they can catch me. I have two others who must get to Sunan quickly. Can you help us?” A few more questions, then the man agreed. “Get in back,” Tran said to the other SEALs. He stepped into the pickup cab and the rig rolled down the highway. The farmer said he’d been in the army when he