The jeep fishtailed and Smith searched for a seat belt that turned out not to exist. He’d originally assumed he’d have to take over driving, but Kyong seemed to know every pothole, ditch, and rock on the compound. The Korean turned off the dirt road and headed across a field of tangled ground cover toward a section of fence that had been crushed by an armored troop carrier.

It didn’t take long for the men pouring from the back of the vehicle to spot them and begin swinging rifles in their direction. That was less worrying, though, than the fact that the vehicle’s driver was starting to back across the opening in the fence to block their path.

“Shiiiiiiiiiiit!” he heard Randi shout from the back as Kyong aimed at the shrinking gap leading to what may or may not have been freedom. Smith slid down in his seat as a few of the soldiers managed to bring their weapons to bear and individual shots became audible over the explosions behind. Their driver didn’t seem to notice, though, and just stared straight ahead as he struggled to keep the jeep under control on the uneven ground.

They were jerked hard to the left when the truck’s rear bumper slammed into their rear quarter panel, but then they were across the fence line. Smith stayed down, preparing to take over if Kyong was hit and not rising again until he calculated they were out of range.

A quick glance back confirmed that Randi was still upright, looking surprised to be alive. Eichmann had crammed himself onto the floorboard behind the driver’s seat and was now struggling to get free. Beyond, the troop carrier was accelerating in their direction with soldiers running alongside, grabbing hold of anything that would let them join the chase.

Kyong threw the jeep right and headed toward a dirt track cutting through the trees in front of them. Their jet was in the other direction, but so were the majority of the tanks. Best to give them a wide berth.

They made it to the main road, but the slightly smoother surface didn’t seem to be translating into speed. Smith looked past Eichmann, who had finally managed to untangle himself, and saw the troop carrier gaining.

“Can’t this thing go any faster?” Smith shouted

“No,” was the only reply.

The Korean seemed to have gone through a profound transformation. The friendly helpfulness was gone, replaced not by panic or despair—but by anger. Maybe even hate.

Not that being chased by the North Korean army wouldn’t ruin anyone’s mood, but this was something more. The change was so complete, Smith had to wonder if this was the real man and the dutiful guide was nothing more than a meticulously crafted character.

“Is there any way off this road?” Smith said. “Onto terrain that will give us an advantage over the truck?”