Chapter 138

(T/N: The following chapter suggests that its a conversation between 2 new characters and not with Kang-hyuk. I find it weird because it suddenly shifted POV but it is what it is espescially if its from the raw itself.)

“Why did Captain Lee Hyun-jong even go that far in?”

Elements of the Ark Unit, stationed in the UAE, had already entered South Sudan. Unlike the Hanbit Unit, the Ark Unit was armed for protection due to the Yemeni civil war.

This meant they were a combat-deployed force, not a humanitarian one, and their armament level was on a completely different scale from Hanbit’s.

“I… understand it was to protect civilians.”

At Colonel Jang Kang-ho’s sharp, almost accusatory question, Major Lee Won-yong answered in a weary voice.

Jang’s tone rose even higher.

“Civilians? What civilians? You don’t mean South Sudanese, do you?”

“Ah… no. The Hanbit Unit’s stationed in a UN zone, as you know.”

“Well… that’s true.”

Jang nodded, recalling the briefing he’d received while moving here overnight. This was a ROK base far closer to home than most, but until the incident broke, he hadn’t known exactly where it was or what it did.

“So civilian aid organizations operate actively there. The military alone isn’t enough, so we have a complementary relationship with them.”

“And?”

“This time, ‘Doctors Without Borders’ was helping with our medical outreach. Since it was Hanbit Unit support, quite a few Korean members came—language and all that, you understand?”

It sounded plausible enough, and Jang simply nodded.

“Then the problem happened.”

“Boko Haram stormed in, is that it?”

“Yes.”

“You weren’t on guard? How does a force that big get right up to you without being noticed?”

According to UN intel, the Boko Haram force involved was over 500 strong. Such a movement could easily be picked up by satellite. That an active military unit failed to detect it was baffling.

“Of course we were on guard.”

Lee had a point to make. The Ark Unit, for all its UAE deployment under the banner of stabilizing Yemen, wasn’t actually fighting—its main role was security and policing in a stable host country.

South Sudan, by contrast, was effectively lawless.

“But they moved mixed in with civilians, making identification nearly impossible—especially in a deliberate case like this.”

Lee recalled the nearby school, emptied in just an hour or two. Hanbit soldiers had built it with support from the Korean conglomerate Chilseong Group.

By Korean standards, it was nothing special, but in South Sudan, it was a major school—with a huge student population.

‘Nearly four or five hundred boys slaughtered…’

Bodies were still being recovered; numbers were uncertain. Almost no girls’ bodies had been found—Boko Haram had abducted them. Boys were killed, girls kidnapped. They’d committed such atrocities many times before in other regions.

“Why’d you stop talking?”

Jang couldn’t know what Lee had seen or was thinking, so he pressed in a curt tone. Soldiers disliked interruptions during a briefing.

“Ah, sorry. In any case, we were on guard but failed. We only realized Boko Haram had struck after they’d already seized the school.”

“That school.”

Jang hadn’t been there yet—only heard of it en route. Once seen as South Sudan’s hope, it was now filled with the cries of bereaved parents.

“They seemed to realize there was an NGO nearby only after taking the school. Had they known earlier…”

They might have targeted ‘Doctors Without Borders’ instead. Locals could be used only for labor, but foreigners could be ransomed for huge sums.

“That’s… fortunate, then.”

Had he seen the school’s devastation, the word “fortunate” would’ve stuck in his throat. But Jang didn’t know the full story, and his duty was to prioritize nationals’ safety.

“Yes… in a way.”

“So some of them broke off and attacked ‘Doctors Without Borders’?”

“Yes. Unarmed, they couldn’t resist. Two local assistants were killed instantly, and ten civilians—including six Koreans—were taken.”

Lee spoke in the past tense for a reason—they’d been rescued and were now under Hanbit’s protection.

“Captain Lee rescued them… and lost his window to escape buying time.”

“Yes. They weren’t out for combat, so ammo was short, and manpower even shorter.”

Lee Hyun-jong had fought well. Without him, the list now on TV would have been full of civilians’ names.

‘If he’d retreated earlier, he wouldn’t have been caught.’

But without his continued fight, civilians—and unarmed Hanbit troops—wouldn’t have reached safety. Most Koreans here owed him their lives.

“At least his location’s known.”

“Yes. Boko Haram probably doesn’t realize every soldier carries a tracker.”

Any African operation meant risking one’s life, especially outside tourist zones. South Sudan was dangerous in itself—and right next to Somalia, one of the most lawless places on earth.

All personnel carried transmitters, and they were working now.

‘Beep, beep.’

They looked at the signal on the monitor—about 50 km from Hanbit base.

“He’s separate from the main group?”

Jang glanced from the monitor to Lee, who nodded quickly.

“Yes. The main force is moving slowly with the girls.”

“What’s the UN say? No rescue there?”

“They’ve judged combat rescue impossible with so many hostages.”

“Any past failures?”

“More that… there’s no unit able to take on 500 armed men head-on.”

“Right, the UN’s not what it used to be.”

The tiger had lost its teeth. Pleas for release would mean nothing to Boko Haram; history had shown that.

“Right now, our priority’s rescuing Captain Lee and his team.”

Sadly, Jang was right—especially when the captive was a hero taken while saving others.

“Yes. First… here’s imagery from a US military satellite.”

Lee displayed crisp satellite photos from the US, whose influence in Africa was unmatched.

“About 20 armed hostiles.”

“Not too many. Is that Lee lying there?”

Even high resolution couldn’t show faces, but ranks could be guessed from insignia.

“Yes, likely.”

“And this mess here—is that blood?”

“Can’t say. But according to an escaped soldier, there’s been little sustained firefight.”

“Why?”

“As I said, ammo was short…”

“Damn it.”

“They reportedly surrendered at the end, so… we expect no serious injuries yet.”

“Not being too optimistic?”

Jang stared at the monitor as if willing it to show more.

“If he’s hurt, we need to move fast. From the image, they’re keeping minimal watch and seem unaware they’re being tracked.”

“As expected. Our men ready?”

“Yes.”

Lee pointed to another monitor, dark except for occasional starlight—showing their troops in pitch-black conditions.

“Currently holding at 1 km out.”

“And the helos?”

“Two Lynx helicopters from the ROKS Chungmugong Yi Sun-sin under Cheonghae Unit. They’re en route with Sudanese approval—secured by direct presidential call.”

Yi Sun-sin—the admiral who’d saved the nation in its darkest hour—was still fighting for it in death.

“Naturally. Public attention’s high…”

With wall-to-wall coverage and reports of Lee’s self-sacrifice, public pressure was enormous. Nearly all Korean forces nearby were mobilized—not by coincidence.

“Lynx helos will enter the AO in 20 minutes.”

“Twenty minutes… commence operation immediately after.”

“I’ll request live UAV feed from the US.”

“Good. That’s reassuring.”

Infrared imagery from the drone appeared on their monitors, also streamed to Ark Unit troops, guiding them swiftly toward the target.

Soon, on-site commander Captain Ahn Byung-joo could see enemy positions with both IR and the naked eye.

“Everyone to positions. On my signal, we go in at once.”