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cover they could find—truck tires, empty explosives crates, or bodies—and opened up.
    Chadwick stayed where he was and looked for Lee. The engineer squatted nearby, his face a mask of concentration as he wrapped wire around a lead. Lee finished tightening it and glanced up. He flashed a thumbs-up signal in Chadwick’s direction and reached for another charge.
    Something blared sharp above the gunfire, and Chadwick’s mind rocked. A bugle. My God, he thought, the North Koreans are still using bugles.Suddenly he felt very close to his father, who’d told him about the human-wave attacks launched during the Korean War.
    He clutched his pistol tighter.
    WHUMMP! WHUMMP! WHUMMP! More grenades went off in rapid succession, thundering down the tunnel, showering the defenders with deadly fragments. More dust and smoke followed, turning everything into a hazy nightmare.
    A squad of North Korean soldiers charged out of the smoke, urged on by their bugler. They were cut down by concentrated rifle fire, but there were others close behind them and the bugle kept blaring.
    Chadwick heard screams and yells of defiance rising from the men around him. A burly South Korean sergeant rose from behind a truck, stood braced against the recoil, and emptied his M16’s magazine into the oncoming North Koreans. Four of them were knocked backward, their bodies, faces, and limbs disintegrating as the bullets slammed home. But then the sergeant was down, chopped nearly in half by an AK burst.
    Time blurred as the fighting moved to close quarters.
    Chadwick saw a North Korean run past, helmeted head down, pounding straight toward the engineers still working. He aimed quickly and fired twice. The soldier staggered and then slid dead to the tunnel floor.
    He spun round as another came from the side, assault rifle swinging high to smash his skull. Chadwick dodged right and felt the rifle butt hammer his left arm. He gasped at the pain and fired once into the man’s stomach. The North Korean folded in on himself in agony and collapsed.
    Chadwick sank to his knees cradling his left arm. It felt on fire.
    “Captain Chadwick!”
    He looked up in a daze. There were bodies everywhere in sight, sprawled like torn rag dolls across the tunnel. Lee motioned to him again. They were leaving. Several soldiers were still firing into the haze, trying to pin the North Koreans down, but the others were backing away—hauling their wounded with them and staying low.
    Chadwick scuttled over to the South Korean engineer. “You done?” The smoke hanging in the air burned his throat.
    Lee nodded vigorously. “Everything is wired.” He jerked a thumb south toward the exit. “I suggest that we get out of here while we still can!”
    The bugle shrilled again from down the tunnel.
    Shit. The harsh rattle of AK-47 fire grew louder, and new shapes appeared out of the haze. Another North Korean attack. One of Lee’s men turned to yell a warning and pitched backward, shot directly between the eyes.
    Chadwick grabbed the dead man’s M16 and fired a burst down the tunnel, wincing as the recoil jarred his left arm. One of the North Koreans dropped in a spray of blood. The others scattered, seeking cover.
    “Come on, Captain! This is no time for heroics!” Lee put a hand on hisshoulder and pulled him away. A bullet cracked past his face, bringing him back to his senses. The engineer was right. It was past time to leave.
    Together with the other rearguard troops, they turned and headed down the tunnel—moving as fast as they could without unnecessarily exposing themselves to enemy fire. The bugle continued to sound behind them.
    They reached the first row of T-62s before the North Koreans realized they were going. Rounds started to slam into the vehicles and the rock around them. Jesus. Chadwick and the others all broke into a flat-out run. Something tugged at his sleeve and he saw the man running in front of him fall, a stain spreading across his battle dress.
    He reached