Thunder in the Morning Calm by Don Brown

round of interviews with Army psychiatrists and Communist party investigators, he received the North Korean Army’s prestigious top-secret clearance and was awarded a medal for meritorious service.
    He would never forget the day of the ceremony. They had ordered him to report in full dress uniform to party headquarters in his home city of Chongjin in North Hamgyong Province. His father and mother, both factory workers at the Chongjin Steel Company, were invited. They knew in advance only that he was being promoted to staff sergeant. But when he received the prestigious medal for meritorious service, his parents were shocked
.
His mother, her hands rough from years of glorious labor in service to the party, shed tears when they pinned the dangling medal with the red star on his jacket.
    Of course, his parents never knew the real reason why he had earned the medal, nor did they know that he had received the prestigious top-secret clearance. Indeed they could not know — nor could anyone else know. Perhaps one day his children would know of his new assignment.
    Kang remembered the day they led him into a secure chamber and told him of his assignment to the top-secret camp. He then had spent six months learning English in Pyongyang before reporting to Kim Yong-nam Military Prison Camp.
    At first, Kang had not understood it all. And then it hit him. He had been chosen to be among North Korea’s elite! His star was rocketing upward! This was his chance.
    Kang eyed his comrades sitting there at the table, more interested in their coffee and their bellies than their duty, he thought. Part of the problem was that the two standing guard with him were his superiors, but not by much. They were one stripe and pay grade above him. He
technically
was subject to their orders.
    Kang had decided that the North Korean High Command had erred by bestowing on them the same top-secret clearance that he had just received and now had recognized that mistake. But rather than relieve them of their duties and send them elsewhere or shoot them, they had brought
him
in to clear things up. Yes, Kang Ho-soon planned to take command here. His leadership abilities would propel him to the officer ranks of the Army and, from there, assignment to the highest places of power in Pyongyang. Kang smiled as he envisioned his rise to power.
    He was certain his new commanding officer, Colonel Song Kwang-sun, had high connections within the Army and the party. He hoped Colonel Song had already heard of his no-nonsense discipline of the rebellious prisoner yesterday. What better way to grab attention than a quick whipping to the foot? A slash across the back would come next.
    “Comrades! Time to go get them up,” he snapped.
    Chung looked up at him. “Comrade, why such a hurry? They are old men. They are not going anywhere. So what if they have to pee? They can wait.” He rolled his eyes at Cho, who chuckled.
    “Excuse me, Comrade First Sergeant,” Kang shot back, “but I have examined the regulations, and the regulations require them to be up and marching for morning latrine visits no later than zero-eight-hundred hours.”
    “Regulations. Please.” This was from the other one, Cho, responding in the same lackadaisical, lazy tone used by Chung. “What will they do? File a complaint?”
    “Should we take this up with the colonel?” Kang asked.
    Cho eyed Chung, who shook his head. “Very well, my young and ambitious friend. Let us get moving.”
    “I will wait outside,” Kang said. He marched across the dining area, pushed open the door, and stepped out into the snow. A moment later, Chung came outside. Cho followed him like a sheep following its master, Kang thought.
    Chung headed across the courtyard toward the prisoners’ barracks. He had taken about three steps in a shuffling, nonmilitary bearing when Kang could bear it no more.
    “Halt!” Kang screamed.
    Chung stopped and turned to look at Kang. “What do you mean, ‘Halt’?”
    “Are you not