Operation Minnow

I heard them first—the barking. Two dogs. Then I saw the search party. Four troops, a dog handler, and two German Shepherds. They were right on our trail, coming out of the foothills into the two-creek valley where Min-Ji had screwed up her ankle.

A troop vehicle rolled up to them as they reached the road. It stopped. One of the patrolmen spoke to the soldier at the passenger window, and then the truck rolled off to the south.

Hounds to the hunters, I realized. A simple plan. The hounds were in front of me; the hunters were in that vehicle.

The man at the back of the group had a backpack with an antenna shooting out of it.

Radio operator.

How frequently was he calling in their position reports? I wondered.

I watched him closely.

He radioed in when they reached the first creek. They crossed it slowly.

At the second creek, they stopped. The dogs patrolled around the ledge, but eventually, they crossed. The German shepherds came together, sniffing at the place where I had wrapped Min-Ji's ankle. The radioman called it in.

They continued for 600 meters, slowly closing on me.

Finally, they came to the first hill out of the valley. I was 20 meters from them, hidden well, but if those dogs had my scent, too, there would be a firefight very, very soon.

The radio operator had not called in anything since the second creek.

This was good.

The dogs moved in my direction for a few meters before turning and following the route I'd carried Min-Ji.

The soldiers passed me in a diamond formation behind the dog handler. The leader was in front. To his right-rear was a fella with his sleeves rolled up. To the leader's left-rear was a really short guy. The radioman still brought up the rear. I swept in behind them, still off-trail.

It had been twenty minutes since the radioman's last update.

The handler turned, saying something to the team leader. The team leader turned to the radioman and issued some orders. They continued.

And the radioman unhooked the handset from his backpack and called Search Control or the vehicle or both.

That was what I needed to see.

I stepped onto the trail behind the team, weapon at the ready, and closed with them. I had rehearsed this type of situation scores of times. Each of my feet planted into the earth like how someone might lay out a blanket—a reverse peel—for utter silence.

But I stepped quickly, too.

In five seconds, I was three meters behind the radioman. No one looked back. The noses of the dogs were buried in the trail.

The radioman hung up his headset, and I put a bullet in his brain. He collapsed.

The man to his right—sleeve guy—turned first, glancing at the radioman and alerting the team leader.

The team leader never had a chance to turn around. Back of the head, one shot.

Now it was instinct. I had to take the risk that the dog handler was unarmed. He had his dogs for weapons, I figured. So, who would be the first to pull his weapon? Sleeves or shorty?

Sleeves still hadn't drawn his rifle; he glared at me in astonishment.

Shorty was swinging his rifle around, yelling. I cut it off with one shot to the face.

Sleeves didn't move. I stepped toward him. He flinched. One shot to the forehead and down.

The dog handler was hissing at the German shepherds, setting them after me.

I shot him twice in the chest.

One dog came after me, low and snarling; the other seemed unsure.

I shot snarler in the chest.

The other dog saw its companion go down and backed away from me. I shot him in the chest, too.

The whole group had to go down. No choice.

"Sorry dogs," I whispered.

I checked each body. The dog handler had a pair of white women's panties in his coat pocket.

Min-Ji's scent marker, I concluded.

The short guy's pack contained the dirt-encrusted garments that Min-Ji had buried after we left the intersection—the black shirt and pants and the blackened bamboo hat, now a crumpled disaster.

One by one, I hauled each corpse back to the creek, weighed them down with the stones I had gathered earlier, and sunk them. The dogs, too. It took about twenty minutes.

I raced back up the hill and cleared the area of my shell casings, mixed the blood into the soil, and swept the area clear of tracks.

It was 1317 when I began my trip back to Min-Ji.

One way to make a scent vanish, I said to myself, was to get rid of the dogs.

The bonus to this side mission was that I had now destroyed their scent items by sinking them in the creek. A new set of trailing dogs would need a new garment—probably not too difficult to find, but it would give us more time.

Slowly working my way back to Min-Ji, I considered what the enemy would do next.

At first, it would be assumed the radio went bad. The hunters' vehicle would drive back and forth, looking. At some point, a patrol would be sent out to find the team and the dogs. When they were declared missing, I imagined a new scent dog team would be summoned and deployed.

It gave us time, but even so, I could see the search commander flooding the area with troops looking for any sign of the dog team or us. But, I wasn't worried about foot patrols or vehicular patrols finding our shelter; I was worried about more dogs.

I made it to the tunnel at 1428.

Min-Ji saw me and the fear on her face melted into relief. She whispered my name.

Clothes dissipated body heat; I took mine off and climbed back into the tunnel under the solar blanket with her.

She turned around, curling her back against my front. I held her and not long after, fell asleep.

***

Having been a part of other covert operations for years, my body was trained to listen, even when I slept, and to rouse the instant I heard something alarming.

That afternoon, I never did, though my mind registered the distance drone of automobiles on streets and occasionally the closer muffled roar of a military vehicle over gravel roads.

I awakened when I heard MIn-Ji moan. She must've been sleeping, too.

I checked my watch—1744. Nightfall approached. Sunset would occur at 1857 tonight.

Then, I noticed it. I had a fearsome erection. Its length squashed into the tender flesh of Min-Ji's butt.

I drew my hips back to create space, and she rolled towards me, eyes open. She whispered something in Korean that included my name.

She was young and beautiful. I wanted to kiss her.

And I wanted to apologize for my erection, but I felt it best to remain aloof. Shit happened. I got a sleep boner. So what?

I pointed to the seven on my watch, and then I signaled that we would go together.

She backed away from me, brought up her knee in what little space we had, and pointed to her ankle.

I nodded and showed her that I would carry her again.

She gave a relaxed sigh, nodded, and when she lowered her leg, it brushed smoothly against the tip of my cock.

She flinched and her eyes darted to mine.

Against my will, I ignored it and rolled away from her.

She put an arm around my chest and drew her front against my back.

Fuck me, I thought. Those fucking tits.

The erection remained.

At 1828, the damned thing subsided when a foot patrol passed nearby. They had been dropped off by a troop carrier on the road to our east. I had heard the vehicle roll off to the north after the drop.

Hiking up the hill toward us, the soldiers did what I expected—they avoided the steep slope and went around us.

Nothing like a steep hill, I thought with a grin, to ward off foot soldiers. Always put your hiding place in a spot common soldiers wanted to avoid.

The closest they passed was 20 meters, I guessed, and they were headed west. Good news.

Surveying my map in the last light of the day, I saw a tank ditch or trench 100 meters south of us that ran just north of east through the next valley. Its exit put us in the next set of foothills.

The risk was that it might be patrolled. The benefit was that it would be a high-speed axis where I could carry Min-Ji unseen.

It was worth the risk.

The key here was separation. Easting would give me that. Plus, the border turned sharply northeast in that direction. Every step would take me further from the main body of bad guys and closer to the DMZ.

I began planning my course beyond the trench.

A helicopter interrupted my thinking. It passed south of us, probably hugging the DMZ.

Gone, I checked the time: 1856. Outside, dusk had set in. Time to roll.

Min-Ji and I dressed together outside the tunnel. I could not stop myself from peeking at her breasts. They were fucking beautiful, like the ends of fat artillery shells jutting from her torso.

To control my urges and focus on important matters, I checked and rewrapped Min-Ji's ankle. The thing was like a bluish-pink softball with toes poking out the front and a heel out the back.

I glanced at her. She nodded determinedly.

Once we were packed out, I covered up the tunnel, took Min-Ji on my back, and began heading south over the fingers and through the draws that led to that tank ditch.

It was probably a remnant from 1953, I decided. The DMZ was located along the exact line of the Korean War front on some date back in that year.

Of course there would be trenches and tank ditches, I told myself. Probably some old foxholes, too.

A few minutes later, I saw it through the NVGs—the trench. We began heading east, moving down the hill and into the man-made ditch. A bridge 80 meters away blocked us.

When we arrived at the crossing, I found a four-foot culvert passing underneath it. I climbed inside it with Min-Ji on my back and crawled through. On the other side, I switched my NVGs to infrared to help me see any heat sources.

None.

We moved quickly through the ditch. At one point a vehicle passed over the bridge behind us, and I had to wait it out. 25 minutes later, we encountered another culvert. This one was at least 30 meters long, and through my NVGs, I could see standing water inside.

The last thing I wanted to do on a 39-degree evening was to get wet. I needed to make distance. Getting wet would put an end to our travels.

I crept to the lip of the trench and surveyed the area. Fields. The road. No heat signatures. No sounds other than distant motor vehicles. I carried her over the bridge at a run, and we continued.

300 meters further along the ditch, I saw two people through my infrared. They were at the back of a farmhouse, smoking cigarettes. We waited for them to finish and continued.

The ditch spanned about 1200 meters in total, but we made good time. It was 1957 when we emerged into the foothills.

Here, we were as close as I'd ever been to the South Korean border, about 2200 meters, by my map estimate. How incredible the prospect seemed—to be able to turn south and get out of country in four or five hours.

But it could not be. That area would be supremely dangerous right now.

More easting.

I sighed.

Min-Ji adjusted her grip on my body.

I moved out.

We stopped and drank water from an irrigation ditch. I pumped it through my filter into our canteens. We ate energy bars. I rechecked my route. I rested.

Min-Ji got my attention and mimicked sleep.

I shook my head and signaled I wanted to pick her up again.

"Ski-pa no," she argued.

"No."

She relented. I took her up, and we continued up and down the hills, up and down.

At 0416, I had made it to our goal. We were on the western side of a hill, looking down at a paved road running north and south. The border lay just under 1500 meters due south of us.

I began cutting a new tunnel into the side of a short cliff when it started raining.

Instantly I stripped down. Min-Ji did the same. I stuffed our clothes into my pack with the rest of my gear and put it under the low branches of a pine to keep it as dry as possible.

Min-Ji watched from under the same tree as I hacked into the soil and clay, chipping away hunks. It rained harder. Soon, we were both sopping. She curled herself into a shivering ball.

I went to her, wrapping my naked body around hers and rubbing. After a few minutes, I went back to work. Back and forth.

Once, when I set down the knife and went to her, Min-Ji reached for me. I fell on top of her, and she wrapped her legs around me. My cock and balls rested between her legs, and I felt the soft pubic hairs of her vagina. Chest to chest, I rubbed her body; she rubbed my back, and we rocked together like lovers on the cold wet earth.

I didn't want to leave her, but I did.

I thought about the dangers ahead as I continued carving out our new home.

No doubt a new scent marker for Min-Ji had been procured along with a new team of dogs. They would have started somewhere near the last check-in point—near where the killing took place.

The rain on our bodies would not help wash away our scent here at this new shelter. In fact, it probably would accentuate it, but those dogs would have to get close to smell it.

The rain on our back-trail, however, might help us a great deal. Scent generally comes from flakes of skin. The rain would tend to wash it away—not perfectly so, but it would definitely delay them, for there would be false trails where little rivulets of rainwater carried our scent downhill when we actually went up.

The progress east I had made through the night would tax not only the men but the dogs, as well. Had I bought us a full day's rest in this tunnel? I didn't know. Maybe.

Absolutely frozen and almost two hours later, it was done, smoothed out, carpeted with our clothes, and camouflaged.

We climbed in. When our bodies met under the solar blanket, Min-Ji sighed beautifully. She rolled her back toward me and we nestled together, my arm over her tummy, her arm over my arm. My nose nuzzled into her hair until I found her neck. She hummed sweetly.

I had carried her over seven kilometers on my back that night up and down hills. We slept.

***

I woke with another formidable erection. The skin on skin contact with Min-Ji's ass did not help. The connection between our bodies was warm and soft. It was like her skin sent thrumming pulses of warm energy into my cock and, from there, throughout my body.

I didn't move. It felt too good.

But, I needed to know the time. I slid my arm free from her and glanced at my watch.

0932.

Min-Ji stirred.

I drew my hips back from her.

She hesitated for a moment, and then she shifted her body, snuggling back against me. Her ass rubbed my cock as she settled.

I gasped in silence at the strength of the sensation, feeling my erection contract against her.

Min-Ji sighed.

I wanted to touch her, to send her a signal that I wanted her.

Not the time or the place, I told myself. I rolled onto my back and threw my arms behind my head.

Drops of rain tapped the sodden ground outside the tunnel—a slow, steady drizzle. I smelled the air. It was clean, cool, and abundant with the freshness of spring.

What next? I thought. What will the enemy do next? What would I do if I were them?

Min-Ji rolled toward me.

I didn't look.

Maybe they would form a picket line, I imagined, but from where? Maybe from the....

Min-Ji's hand cupped my cheek and drew my face toward hers. She whispered to me in Korean. Her voice sounded high and sweet, full of innocence and trepidation.

I glanced at her breasts. They seemed to leap from her body towards me. So full and soft. Her surging nipples bore the color of dark, creamed tea. The two thick, jutting masses on Min-Ji's demure frame made her seem vulnerable. They were like two enormous jewels that could not possibly be protected by the venue upon which they were displayed—there for the taking, but so beautiful that one dared not even try.

She continued to speak to me, and her voice grew in sweet, heart-wrenching dread. Her eyes turned pink. The skin of her face became mottled, and she began to weep.

I rolled on my side toward her.

She said my name, wiping her eyes and breathlessly whispering more words I could not understand.

I put my finger on her lips. "Min-Ji," I whispered. "No."

She searched my eyes, and she was so beautifully forlorn that I wrapped her in my arms and kissed her lips.

She squeaked, but not in shock or anger. It sounded more like surprise and gladness. Her body softened in my arms. Her tiny hand alighted upon my chest.

I groaned into her lips when my hand cupped the broad heft of her breast, feeling the rigid nipple tickle my palm.

I didn't ever want to let go, but I released in order to slide my hand over her ass and draw our bodies together.

Min-Ji gasped when my erection slid up against her little patch of hairs. The tip drove through the fur and slid along her skin until it rested upon her navel. My testicles nestled into her pubic hairs.

Not wanting to part my body from hers, I reached behind her ass and lifted her leg. My fingers crawled there, seeking and finding, rubbing and sliding.

Then, delving.

Min-Ji almost silently moaned on my lips. Her pussy lubricated my middle finger instantly. I inched the digit back and forth in the yielding, but taut grip of her body.

Her hand glided down my tummy. Her fingertips found and tentatively caressed the shaft.

I broke the kiss. I could see in her face every response to my finger. Her eyes closed, her lips parted, she moaned, and she tipped her head back as if lost in ecstasy.

She had forgotten about my cock, drowning in her own pleasure.

When my lips met hers again, she gasped and responded boldly, thrusting her tongue in my mouth as if the kiss was exactly what she desired at that moment. Her body began to undulate upon my finger.

Not long after, Min-Ji voiced a breathless climax into my mouth. Her orgasm was a kind of surrender—languid and yielding. I felt her body contract on my finger, but only there. The rest of her melted slowly. Her arrestingly sexy and feminine orgasm lasted almost a minute, it seemed, and then she broke the kiss with a sweet sigh, relaxing completely.

I kissed her cheek, her chin, her neck, and her chest.

I kissed her breast once. Twice. Three and four times. And then I took a nipple into my lips while my hands explored her thighs and her ass—feeling, rubbing, and massaging. All the while, I gently thrust my cock against her leg.

A minute or so after I had begun, Min-Ji began to speak to me again. I glanced up at her. She kissed my forehead and continued talking. She spoke with mounting energy, always a whisper, but one becoming ever more enthusiastic.

There was amazement in her words—and joy, it seemed. She was like a person absolutely dying to tell her story to someone. At one point, she drew my face from her breast, and cupping my cheeks with both hands, she laughed quietly as if telling me the most jubilant part of her tale.

I resumed licking and sucking her nipples. Then, her voice grew even more hushed. She sounded serious and nervous.

I quit and glanced at her.

She swallowed and whispered my name. She moved, creating space between our bodies. Her fingers pinched at the edge of the solar blanket. She drew it off of us, and she stared at my penis.

Min-Ji glanced at me and spoke. Had it been a question?

I had nothing to say.

She gazed at my cock, still whispering. Then, she curled up her knees and began to scoot further into the tunnel. Down. Down.

I helped her, scooting up toward the opening. Soon, Min-Ji's mouth and the head of my erection were level. She spoke to me.

Tentatively, she reached for my cock and grasped it in her gentle fingers. The tip was fractions of an inch from Min-Ji's lips, and she whispered. I felt the air in tiny pockets, washing over the throbbing head.

She closed her eyes, still whispering, and it seemed to me like a kind of prayer. Not long after, she pursed her lips, and I watched her kiss the very tip of my erection. She drew back and glanced up at me. Her eyes were a mixture of anxiety and excitement.