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CH299 | GSI
🕑 Added 2025-08-27 10:01:53 +0000 UTCSeptember 17, 1996 — 11:00 PM, Gangdong-myeon, Gangneung, Gangwon Province.
Roughly 10 kilometers off the coast, a dark submarine lay quietly on the seabed, its hull settled against the ocean floor.
Weighing in at just under 300 tons, the small vessel was a Sang-O-class submarine, operated by the Reconnaissance Bureau under the North Korean Ministry of the People’s Armed Forces.
Only 34 meters long and 3.8 meters wide, the cramped interior barely allowed room to stand upright. Inside, 19 crew members, including the commander, Lieutenant Colonel Ri Dae-hyuk, were packed tightly together.
“Comrade Commander, it's time for the second contact,” said Sub-Commander Jo Chul-ho.
Ri Dae-hyuk checked his wristwatch and nodded.
“All right, bring us up to periscope depth.”
“Yes, sir.”
As soon as the order was given, Ri turned and gripped the periscope with both hands.
Compressed air was pumped into the ballast tanks at the front and rear of the submarine, forcing the seawater out. The hull, previously resting on the seafloor, tipped slightly as it began to rise.
Once they neared the surface, Ri Dae-hyuk pressed his face against the eyepiece of the periscope.
“Start the timer,” he said.
As the periscope broke the surface, Jo Chul-ho pulled out a stopwatch and hit the button.
Ri spun the periscope in a quick circle, scanning the dark waters through its infrared night vision system. Thankfully, nothing was in sight.
Experienced in stealth navigation, Ri quickly retracted the periscope before risking detection.
His face unshaven after several days at sea, he gave the next order.
“Good. Surface. Sub-Commander, try contacting the infiltration team.”
“Yes, sir.”
Moments later, white foam bubbled to the surface as the hidden submarine rose from the depths.
Wearing a black raincoat, Ri opened the hatch. Seawater that had pooled on the conning tower spilled into the vessel.
Soaked in cold seawater, he climbed up the ladder and emerged on the bridge.
The night was pitch black—no moon in sight and heavy clouds above—perfect for a covert landing, except for one thing: the waves were brutal.
Frowning as he surveyed the churning sea, Jo Chul-ho climbed up beside him.
“Contact made with the infiltration team.”
“Where are they?”
“As planned—Aninjin-ri Beach.”
“Hmm.”
Ri wanted to suggest delaying until the waves calmed, but they had already failed one infiltration attempt. There was no turning back.
With no better options, he forced his anxiety down.
“We’re approaching the coast. The waves are strong, so tell the helmsman to stay sharp.”
“Understood.”
Jo Chul-ho climbed back down to relay the command, while Ri Dae-hyuk stared grimly at the stormy East Sea.
Although the East Sea was known for its deep waters, the seabed rose sharply near shore. So, the Sang-O-class submarine, now fully surfaced, moved toward the Aninjin-ri coastline, where the infiltration team waited.
But in the face of powerful waves, the under-300-ton vessel struggled to maintain stability. It was being tossed around like a toy.
“Damn it! Chief Engineer, boost engine power! We’re getting tossed too hard to hold a steady heading!”
Clutching an overhead pipe to keep from falling, Ri brought the wired microphone to his mouth and barked into it.
A flustered voice responded through the speaker.
[We can’t, sir! The engine’s too old—if we push it any more, the pistons might blow!]
“God damn it!”
The submarine was powered by a smuggled German-made MTU diesel engine, but after more than twenty years of use and a chronic shortage of replacement parts, it broke down more often than it ran properly.
If the engine failed in the middle of enemy territory due to pushing the output too hard, they’d be doomed. All Ri Dae-hyuk could do was curse under his breath, unable to yell at the chief engineer.
Clutching the memory of the photo of his wife and family tucked inside his service notebook, he prayed silently that they would somehow make it through the mission safely.
That’s when it happened.
The vessel suddenly lurched violently to the side—then, a tremendous impact slammed into it, and the internal power cut out completely.
KA-BOOM!
“Aaagh!”
“Urgh!”
Some time passed before Ri Dae-hyuk regained consciousness. He’d been thrown to the floor and hit his head—blood trickled from a gash on his forehead as he slowly got up.
“Ugh…”
Inside the hull, now dimly lit by the emergency red lights, crew members who had been scattered by the impact groaned as they slowly got to their feet.
“Comrade Commander, are you all right?” asked Jo Chul-ho, rushing to his side and helping him stand.
Ri grimaced at the sight of the disheveled, chaotic interior.
“What the hell just happened?”
Jo’s expression turned grim as he reported the situation.
“We were pushed by a wave and hit a reef.”
“What?!”
It was exactly the disaster Ri had feared—and now it had become reality. His face contorted with frustration.
Ignoring the pain from his split forehead, he barked out a command.
“Reverse engines—get us off that reef immediately!”
But Jo didn’t move. He hesitated, clearly unsure what to do.
Seeing that, Ri snapped.
“What are you waiting for? That was a direct order!”
Jo finally spoke, his voice heavy.
“The collision… it completely destroyed the stern plane and the propeller. We can’t move.”
“You’re serious?”
“Yes, sir.”
“God damn it!”
Ri clenched his eyes shut. This was the worst possible scenario.
Meanwhile, near Aninjin Beach in Gangneung, at a coastal guard post manned by the South Korean Army’s 68th Division.
Private First Class Pyo Hyun-gu, on night watch with his K2 rifle slung across his shoulder, noticed something unusual floating in the sea near the shoreline. Alarmed, he shook the soldier next to him awake.
“Sergeant Jung! Wake up, sir!”
“Ugh… What is it? Is it shift change already?” groaned Sergeant Jung Yeon-tae, who had been dozing off, slumped against the concrete wall of the outpost.
“No, sir. There’s something strange out there—by the water.”
Still sitting on the floor, Jung answered lazily, half-awake.
“Probably just your imagination.”
“No, sir,” Pyo Hyun-gu said firmly.
Only then did Sergeant Jung Yeon-tae, noticing the serious look on the private’s face, slowly push himself to his feet.
“Jeez… What’s got you so worked up? If this turns out to be nothing, you’re dead meat,” he grumbled, reaching for the infrared binoculars as he turned toward the sea.
“Over there, 3 o’clock. Just offshore.”
“What the hell am I supposed to be looking at?” he muttered, raising the binoculars to where Pyo was pointing.
And then he saw it.
A dark silhouette, half-submerged, was stuck on a reef just off the coast. A submarine.
He blinked hard, thinking he was still groggy from sleep. But after a second look, there was no doubt—it was a North Korean sub.
“…Holy shit. What the hell is this?”
“It’s a North Korean submarine, right?” Pyo asked, gripping his K2 rifle tightly, the safety now off.
Still staring at the black shape through the binoculars, Jung slowly turned toward Pyo and asked out of nowhere, “How long do you have left in your service?”
The question threw Pyo off. He blinked.
“Fifteen months and nine days, sir…”
Jung chuckled, flicking off the safety on his own rifle.
“Damn kid. Not even a year in the army and you stumble onto something like this? You’re either cursed or the luckiest bastard alive.”
“Sir?” Pyo looked puzzled—it was a crisis, but the sergeant was cracking jokes?
“You ever hear that story about the private in the White Horse Division who killed three infiltrators and got a whole year of vacation?”
“Oh… You mean that legendary private?” Pyo asked, eyes widening.
“Yeah. Took out armed infiltrators and got a one-year break. Now imagine this isn’t some rinky-dink spy boat—it’s a damn submarine. You bag this, they might just discharge you on the spot.”
The word discharge lit a fire in Pyo’s eyes. He immediately edged closer.
“Should we open fire, sir?”
“What, are you crazy?”
Jung lightly smacked the back of Pyo’s helmet.
“There’s just two of us. We don’t know how many guys are on that sub. You wanna get yourself killed before you even go on leave?”
Reality hit Pyo like a bucket of cold water. He sobered up, looking slightly sheepish.
“…So what do we do?”
“I’ll keep eyes on it. You run back to the post and report this,” Sergeant Jung Yeon-tae muttered, still glaring through the binoculars at the motionless submarine.
“Of all times… and now the damn intercom’s broken. Tch.”
The coastal guard post was supposed to be equipped with a wired intercom, directly connected to the main station, so they could report anything immediately.
But the one at their outpost was notoriously unreliable—it went out all the time. And of course, tonight of all nights, it was dead again.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay alone?” Pyo Hyun-gu asked, looking concerned.
Jung scoffed.
“Come on, rookie. You think a seasoned corporal like me can’t handle this? Get your ass moving and report it before those bastards make a run for it. I wanna earn a medal and ride a chopper back home in glory.”
“Yes, sir!”
Pyo nodded sharply and sprinted out of the post into the dark, heading for the main station.
Jung had put on a brave front for the younger soldier, but now that he was alone, the silence and darkness around him seemed heavier, almost pressing in.
He was on edge.
“Stay calm… stay calm…”
He took a deep breath, pulled the bolt on his rifle to chamber a round, and raised the infrared binoculars again to scan the North Korean sub stuck out at sea.
“A damn submarine. Just my luck…”
1:30 a.m., September 18.
A taxi rolled down a coastal road near Aninjin Beach, headlights cutting through the night before it pulled over onto the shoulder.
The middle-aged driver stepped out of the cab.
Earlier, while driving a fare through the area, he’d caught sight of some suspicious-looking men in military gear with closely cropped hair. The whole thing had left him with a bad feeling. He couldn’t shake it—so he’d turned around to check.
As he walked closer to the beach, he squinted into the darkness—and spotted something strange offshore.
A weird-looking vessel, stuck out there on the water.
“What the hell is that?”
Just as the taxi driver, sensing something unusual, began to move closer, a sudden explosion rang out from the mysterious vessel.
BOOOOM!
“Whoa!”
Startled, the driver fell backward with a thud.
At that exact moment, the moon peeked through a break in the clouds, casting pale light over the scene—and revealing that the stranded vessel was, unmistakably, a submarine.
“A… a submarine?!”
The driver cried out in panic, scrambling to his feet.
He ran back to his taxi and floored it, heading straight for the nearest police substation.
As usual, Seok-won got up in the morning, took a shower, and stepped into the dressing room. While buttoning up his shirt, he grabbed the remote and turned on the TV out of habit.
His fingers froze on the buttons of his dress shirt as a breaking news banner flashed across the screen.
[The Ministry of National Defense announced that at around 1 a.m. today, a North Korean Sang-O class submarine carrying multiple armed infiltrators was discovered stranded off the coast of Gangneung in Gangwon Province. In response, a nationwide military alert has been issued. The regions under the 1st and 2nd Army Commands have been placed under the highest emergency level, "Jindogae One," and a full-scale manhunt for the infiltrators is underway.]
[According to the ministry, the discovery was made by a coastal sentry stationed at a guard post 9 kilometers south of Gangneung, who spotted the strange object during his watch. A taxi driver passing nearby at the time also reported...]
“This must be around the time of the Gangneung armed infiltration incident,” Seok-won muttered to himself.
He stared at the screen, his face tightening as memories of the shocking event came flooding back—an incident that had thrown not just Gangwon Province but the entire country into chaos for over a month. Four civilians had lost their lives, along with fourteen others including active-duty soldiers, reservists, and police officers.
His expression turned grim as he silently watched the unfolding special report.
