happens,” Tang replied as he stood, “don’t do anything stupid just to save my ass.”
“Don’t worry. We don’t do stupid.”
With a smile, Tang took off for the fence. Inside, his heart was already pounding against his chest. He had done a lot of dangerous things over his years of sneaking into North Korea, but this was hands-down the most dangerous.
He had quizzed Jin-Sang about mines, trip wires, and other measures that could be around the perimeter, but the boy had told him none of that existed. “Then how do they keep the prisoners in?” he had asked. “Fear,” was Jin-Sang’s response.
All of the prisoners believed that the fence was electrified. It wasn’t. The small stream that ran through the valley barely generated enough electricity to power camp necessities. Running a lethal voltage of current through the fence was something the prison establishment decided it couldn’t afford.
Despite all of the boy’s assurances, when Tang got within one hundred meters of the fence, he chose his steps very carefully. Through his night vision goggles, he could make out the lightly trod path that ran parallel to the fence. It was at the spot where it cut in that Jin-Sang had told him he would find the hole.
As he moved, Tang made sure to lift his head up every once in a while to scan the interior of the camp for guards, as well as other prisoners. Everyone was a potential alarm ringer. As Jin-Sang had said, the camp operated completely on fear.
Where the path curved to the right, Tang saw the warped part of the fence. It was held together with two pieces of narrow wire—one above and one below. The hole wasn’t huge, but it looked just big enough for him to squeeze through. So far, everything the little boy had told him had been spot-on. The next question was whether he had been correct about the electric current.
When the team had asked Jin-Sang why there were no visible lights in the evening, he said that this was a phenomenon of the Chinese. Whatever hardships they were expected to face in America, lack of electricity was allegedly one of them.
Approaching the fence, Tang crouched down near the opening, reached into his canvas bag, and withdrew his “testing stick.” Fordyce had snapped a piece of metal off his Leatherman tool, which Tang had then lashed with surgical tape to a plastic syringe given him by Tucker, the corpsman. Tang had pulled the plunger, which allowed the syringe to ride on the end of a stick to give him a little distance. It was like having a screwdriver with a long, insulated handle. If the fence was live, the current would cause an arc when the fence was touched by another piece of metal.
Tang made ready and then extended his testing stick toward the fence. His body tensed as the metal made contact, but it was only a psychological reaction. Nothing happened. Just as Jin-Sang had said, the fence wasn’t hot.
He pulled the syringe off the stick, took off his night vision goggles, and dropped everything into his bag. Unwinding the two pieces of wire holding the fence closed, he crawled through and then quickly put everything back as he had found it.
By design, there was absolutely no cover between the fence and the infirmary. It made it easier to identify and shoot prisoners who were trying to escape. That was just one of the many reasons Fordyce hadn’t liked the plan. But the die had already been cast. Billy Tang was inside the wire and now it was time to move.
His dark clothing, the moonless night, and the complete absence of searchlights and perimeter lighting helped to make Tang almost invisible. He covered the ground to the infirmary as fast and as quietly as he could, then pressed himself up against the outer wall. It was a cold, one-story building built of concrete.
He listened for several moments as he took deep breaths and waited for his heart rate to slow. There were no noises coming from inside. He couldn’t hear anything outside either. Not even the nighttime creatures seemed to want to be anywhere near this place.
Fordyce had wanted Tang to carry a radio, but he had refused. If he got caught, the North Koreans would immediately know that he wasn’t working alone. He was willing to risk his own life, but not theirs, not so needlessly. It was yet another thing about the plan Fordyce hadn’t liked. Nevertheless, he had agreed.