It is 1950 and Kim Il Sung, the leader of North Korea, has ordered his troops to invade the South. Can they be stopped?
It sounds like a job for Captain Thomas Fletcher, RAF pilot and unwilling member of the Secret Intelligence Service
When he isn’t chasing the beautiful agent, Lee Ji-min, or passing the time with seductive Japanese waitresses, he is offering advice to presidents and prime ministers alike.
Thrown into the heat of battle, can our reluctant hero survive his adventures?
Also by Ken Donald on Obooko:
I’m used to it now, of course, but back then, when the hand of fate dealt me what seemed like a fatal blow, it took me a few days to recover. It was just as well that it was going to take me that long to get to the blasted place, being on the other side of the confounded planet. The only solace I took was that I was being sent to a town called Pusan, and a quick look at the map reassured me, if that was the word, that I was as far south as it was possible to get. Hopefully I would be well out of harm’s way if the bullets started to fly.
It was already summer when I finally arrived, after a weary journey involving so many changes of plane that I’d lost count. When I finally landed in Korea, the first thing that hit me was the bloody stink, and I found myself gagging as soon as I stepped off the plane. But what do you expect when the peasants use human excrement to encourage the damn rice crop?
I was welcomed to the country by my interpreter – a Miss Lee Ji-min. I’d encountered more than my fair share of Asian beauties, of course, when I’d been part of the army of occupation in Japan - and very nice they were too. But I have to say that Ji-min put the rest of them in the shade. Not only did she have flawless skin and the epicanthic folds over the eyes I always found so appealing, but the rest of her assets got the heart racing too.
She had a pert little nose and full, exquisitely shaped lips that gave her an almost doll-like appearance. Her eyes were a pale green colour that betrayed a sharp intelligence, and when she approached she gave me one of those oriental smiles that you can never really be sure are genuine.
“Captain Fletcher?” she asked in almost perfect English.
“Yes, and you must be Ji-min,” I said, holding out my hand. But she simply ignored it.
“Welcome to South Korea, Captain Fletcher,” she responded, giving a little bow.
“Please, call me Tom,” I said, impatient to get the niceties out of the way so I could start to appreciate this piece of good fortune.
“I have arranged for us to stay at a hotel nearby, Captain Fletcher,” she said, refusing to drop the formalities.
When my eyes lit up at this exciting piece of news, she quickly poured water on my flames of desire by adding that she had booked separate rooms – the little spoil sport. Still, we’d see about that.