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Zero Hour

Allan Onik

    The unit landed softly in the dark. As their parachutes fell behind them, they spread and formed while crouching. The Ryongsong Residence was lit in the distance, and the South Korea Forms Unit equipped Daewoo K1s and K5 pistols, with vision enhancements and cybernetic upgrades.

    Un sat on a golden throne inlaid with multicolored diamonds. The floor was composed of imported Italian marble, topped with antique Persian rugs. His lion paced the room and he finished a last bite of pizza. A flare fell down from the ceiling, creating a neon orange halo. The SKFU then descended on ropes. “Numbers 14872, 89420, 48751, 36028, and 63092 have all been subdued and neutralized. The rest of the guard have been cut off from communication, so don’t bother trying to send a signal.” The officer and the others landed softly and pointed their Daewoos. “I hope you enjoyed your pizza. It will be your last meal.”
    Un’s brow creased. “You know, I knew you would come someday. I was counting on it, and I’ve been preparing to cross over. I’ve always fancied my father and grandfather a bit mad, and the apple doesn’t always fall far from the tree—I’ve been waiting for true freedom. This spectacle? No one in this country really believes it! And everyone just wants to see me fry. But I rode the gravy train while it lasted, and I realized that my line was about as goofy as daffy duck or Space Jam.”
    “No shit.”
    “Have you ever studied American History? I have. Lincoln is my favorite. He had a famous quote: ‘Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man’s character, give him power.’ All I can say is, its been a hell of a ride.” Kim cackled.
    The officer dropped his Daewoo and pointed his K5 pistol. “This is for The Day of the Sun.” He unloaded the clip.”

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