The love story between a soldier and a doctor reaches new heights, as their bond strenghtens to a point where it becomes unbreakable. However, as they push ahead through life's treacherous journey together, they realise that there's much that they s...
"War does not determine who is right, only who is left."
(Bertrand Russell)
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Manchuria, China Dae Young woke up to the sound of whispers surrounding him, only to find himself in a dark, dusty room that was lit only by two old fluorescent lamps that shone in an eerie yellow colour. As he blinked his eyes open, head spinning wild as if he had just undergone a realistic flight simulator, he saw in his blurry vision three men–all armed and geared for war. Neither one of them spoke a single word of Korean. It sounded close to Russian.
His senses slowly came back to life. The smell of the room, which was filled by some kind of scent that was so dull and nauseating, made his mind sick. Other than maps and papers tagged to the wall with red lines crisscrossing each other, forming a pattern which was visible under the low light to his far left, there were also ammunition crates–six of them in total and stacked together in a tower. To his right were a stash of weapons–Russian Kalashnikovs, leaning upright next to the wall From the cement walls and floors plus no windows, Dae Young assumed that he was in some sort of a bunker, or an underground shelter. Four pillars supported this large space, and there was a stairway going up.at the far right end of the space.
From the number of weapons In the room, he knew that there were more than just three. Those three were standing next to on of the pillars, smoking and chatting all the way. He didn't like where he was at right now, and the only thing that popped up in his mind was to escape. Only when he tried to get himself free, he realised that he was tied to a chair, hands behind the seat. During the attempt to get himself free, his hand brushed something smooth and warm behind him.
Memories came back to him in a flash. Although he was drunk, he was half-awake. He didn't know how long he was in that state or when it happened, but he did remember hearing and feeling something, or somebody, grabbing his mouth and jabbed him with something by the neck. He was certain too that he heard Myeong Joo fighting back, but that was all he remembered as darkness came in soon after. Mind returning to the present, he realised that he was not alone. Someone was behind him, and probably in the same state as he was.
Myeong Joo.
Unfortunately, tied in a chair and unable to move, he could only turn his head backwards. There were limits though, but through the corner of his eyes, he saw the familiar clothing she was wearing–a brown leather jacket. That confirmed his fear. She wasn't moving at all.
"Myeong Joo." He whispered softly to the woman behind him, his hands brushing the skin of her hands repeatedly. He knew from the touch of her hands that they were tied back-to-back, yet close to each other. All he had to do was to set himself free and escape with her. The problem was, he couldn't do that without making so much noise, which would ultimately attract unnecessary attention. He rubbed her hands again, but she wasn't responsive. "Myeong Joo-ah, get up!" He raised his voice a little, but subtle enough to be heard by those relaxing guards. He rubbed her hands harder this time, using his nails to create some hurt by scratching her skin.
