Skating Free

"Amazing..." she whispered, laying her head on his shoulder.

"Had enough?" Scott chuckled.

"From you? Never." Rolling onto her back, Chin-sun beckoned him to follow her. "Please, love me, Scott. I need you."

There was no way Scott was going to deny her that request. After positioning his body on top of hers with care, he rubbed his swollen tip against her slick entrance and pushed back into her. Chin-sun's eyes never once left his as they made love in the tried-and-true position. Though she felt his weight on top of her, she was far from the submissive little girl she usually had to be, running her fingers through Scott's hair and kissing his neck to urge him on. At one point, he withdrew almost his entire length from her, which Chin-sun answered by refusing to let him out.

"Mine," she said, wrapping her legs around Scott's waist and pulling him all the way back into her.

"If you insist," he chuckled. "Though, I did have one idea. Do you trust me, Chin-sun?"

"With my life, Scott."

Without another word, Scott withdrew from Chin-sun, eliciting a mew of disappointment from her. But she soon realized he was up to something as he rolled back over to his side of the bed, remaining on his side. He pulled her a bit closer to him and gently rolled her onto her side so that her ass was pressed against his cock.

"Scott, what are you... ohhhhh..."

Chin-sun moaned in pleasure as Scott lifted her leg and entered her from behind in a position she would later come to know as spooning. She found that by adjusting her butt a bit, they could maintain penetration without having to keep her leg lifted. This made it easier to keep the covers on top of them for warmth, though their bodies were still pressed together for this purpose, albeit in a back-to-front manner. In spite of the fact that she couldn't see Scott's face, Chin-sun had never felt closer to him. She could feel his hot breath on her shoulder and shivered with excitement every time he planted a soft kiss on her neck. Feeling bold, she reached a hand behind her head and again played with his hair, even finding that she could turn her head slightly to look him in the eyes. Through it all, Scott never missed a beat in his leisurely thrusting.

"I love you, Chin-sun," he whispered.

Smiling back at him, she replied in kind, "Nado neoleul salanghae. I love you, too, Scott Erickson."

Hearing those words seemed to trigger both lovers' orgasms at the same time. They once again sealed their lips together to stifle their moans of pleasure, with Chin-sun writhing as she felt Scott's hot seed fill her up. A moment later, Chin-sun felt his body relax and turned to find him lying on his back, as happy and content as she had ever seen a man. She felt a sense of pride as she rolled over to join him, laying her head on his chest.

"And... that's how lovemaking... is supposed to be," Scott said, still catching his breath.

"It is more wonderful than anything I have ever known," Chin-sun sighed. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, she asked, "Scott... if we get to America, will I ever see you again?"

"Of course, you will," he replied, glancing down at her. "Why wouldn't you?"

"Scott, I love you, but... surely a nice man like you would have an American sweetheart waiting for him, yes? I could never steal such a wonderful man from her. It would be wrong..."

Scott leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Chin-sun, the only ones waiting for me are my mom, my dad, and my brother. You're the only woman in my life."

"You mean that?"

"I do. In fact, to answer your question, when we get to America, I plan to see as much of you as I possibly can. To be honest... I want to see you every day."

"I would like that," Chin-sun smiled.

"And not just every day," Scott continued, "but every morning and every night, too. Wake up next to you, have breakfast, spend our days together, have dinner, fall asleep with you, every day... for the rest of our lives."

Chin-sun's eyes went wide as she realized what he was saying. For a wonderful man like him, she would have happily settled for being his bedwarmer, allowing him to take her for fun outside of his marriage. But what he was describing was far more than that.

"Scott, are you saying-"

"I want you to be my wife, Chin-sun," he whispered, his voice quivering. "I-I want... everything with you. A home, a life..."

"Sons?" she asked hopefully.

"Sons and daughters. As many as you want!" he smiled. "So... what do you say?"

An impish grin spread across her face. "I say... we will have three sons. The oldest we will name for my father and he will grow to become a successful businessman. Our middle son will be named for your father, he will be well loved and become a great leader in government. And our youngest son will carry on his father's name, becoming a renowned athlete like you." She paused a moment before continuing, "And once we have had them, I would wish for a daughter, one I can show everything my grandmother has ever taught me."

Scott laughed a bit. "You've thought this out, haven't you?"

Chin-sun blushed. "It has long been a dream of mine. Well, except the daughter part; that I have only begun wanting tonight."

After pulling her in for another kiss, Scott said, "I'm onboard, with one exception."

"And that is?" Chin-sun asked, cocking her eyebrow.

"I, um... kinda promised to name my firstborn son after my brother," he admitted. "It was how he agreed to help me out tonight."

Chin-sun attempted to appear angry, but she couldn't maintain the façade for more than a few seconds. "In that case... I would love nothing more than to be your wife." She leaned in to kiss him again but stopped just short. "Three sons then a daughter, yes?"

"What if we have a daughter first?" Scott asked with a smartass grin.

"We will just have to keep trying," Chin-sun giggled.

After another short make out session, the pair began to feel the call of sleep wash over them. Chin-sun untied the red ribbon from her ponytail and smoothed out her hair before curling up on her side. Scott then flipped off the light and pulled the covers tightly around them, spooning his body against Chin-sun's back for warmth. Before long, they were sound asleep, dreaming of their new life together.

*****

High in a tree, Song sat in silence and overlooked the small town ahead of him. He had tracked his prey here through most of the night, but his progress had been glacially slow due to the snowstorm. As the first inkling of dawn glowed over the horizon, he scanned the area through a pair of binoculars, looking for any sign of Chin-sun or the American. All the while, he felt sick to his stomach at everything he saw.

"So wasteful," Song muttered. "Even peasants like this have electricity and running water? It is no wonder their government is so soft. Focusing on giving luxuries and comforts... we would crush them if not for those meddlesome bastards."

Though he knew they had to be here somewhere, finding them was still a tall order, one that he would have to take great care in. Even with his secret advantage, Song knew he couldn't just barge in and demand the American. He surmised that these people encountered traitors on a regular basis, rendering aid to them without a second thought. No, he had to know exactly where they were hiding before he could act. For what felt like ages, he saw no movement anywhere, but one house in the sleepy town soon began to stir. After a few moments, he caught a glimpse of someone peeking out the window.

"White face... blonde hair... that's him! Me-gook nom..."

Feeling the adrenaline rush that always came right before a major operation, Song climbed down from the tree and pocketed his binoculars. He did a final check of his equipment, finding it in proper working order. With a deep breath and a slight grin on his face, he began the short walk into town.

*****

Scott awoke first that morning, pleased to have Chin-sun still wrapped in his arms. He disentangled himself carefully and slipped out of the bed, taking a quick look out the window. The sun was still below the horizon, but dawn would break soon. As he was about to slip back into bed, a soft knock came at the door. Though he figured it was their host, he took no chances and grabbed his pistol from the nightstand.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Good morning," came Myung-dae's voice. "Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes, then we will go to the airport."

"We'll be ready. Thank you." Placing the pistol back on the nightstand, he rubbed his hand along Chin-sun's exposed shoulder. "Wake up, gorgeous," he whispered.

"Mm... good morning, Scott," she breathed as her eyes fluttered open. "What time is it?"

"A little before six," he replied, glancing at his watch. "Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes, then we'll go to the airport. Why don't you wash up a bit in the bathroom across the hall?"

"That sounds delightful," she smiled. "I do not have time for a full bath, but it will be so nice to wash my face..."

Scott began to dress himself, slipping on his boots and making sure his silenced pistol was secure in his coat pocket. Chin-sun followed suit, putting on her clothes from the night before. Once they were decent, they opened the door to the hallway and Chin-sun headed for the bathroom. Scott strolled into the kitchen, catching a whiff from the pot of rice cooking on the stove. He then walked into the den and was about to take a seat in a chair when he noticed a cold draft. Looking around, he saw a bit of light shining in from the direction of the front door and decided to investigate in case Myung-dae needed his help with anything. But as he rounded the corner into the entryway, his eyes went wide at seeing their host speaking with a man at the door in military fatigues.

*****

As Myung-dae walked from the guest bedroom and turned toward the kitchen to check on the rice, a knock came at the front door. He approached and looked through the peephole, finding a man about Scott's age wearing military fatigues. After unlatching the door, he opened it to greet his visitor.

"Can I help you?" he asked, studying the soldier's face. His eyes gave no hint of emotion, though a prominent scar ran down his left cheek; Myung-dae surmised that this young man had seen significant action in his career.

"Have you seen this man, sir?" the soldier asked, producing a picture from a cellphone. "We believe him to be in the area. He is a dangerous man, wanted for murder and kidnapping. He may have a young woman with him as a hostage."

Myung-dae studied the photograph for a moment. It was clearly Tom, his houseguest from last night, but the elderly man had immediate doubts as to the soldier's claims. If Tom was a criminal with a hostage, why would the young lady have defended him with such vigor? For that matter, why was Tom so willing to accept his original proposal of sleeping arrangements last night? If the girl truly was a defector, this could be an elaborate ruse to return her back to North Korea. While he pondered this, the soldier gave him a questioning look.

"Have you seen him?" he asked again.

As Myung-dae looked up, he at last saw it: the patch on his shoulder which indicated his rank. Myung-dae had served in the army in his younger days. He remembered well the strict regulations they had for displaying one's rank, and number one was that each soldier had to personally stitch the patch to their uniform to ensure optimal neatness and lasting strength. But this patch looked as though it had been tacked on in haste, perhaps even secured with tape on the backside. Such a shoddy display would never be tolerated from a real soldier.

"No, I have not seen him, but I will remain on the lookout," Myung-dae replied.

The soldier at first pursed his lips in frustration, but his eyes then flickered as he noticed movement behind Myung-dae. When Scott Erickson came into view, he knew he was close to accomplishing his mission.

"Wrong answer, old man."

In one fluid motion, Song drew a silenced pistol from his side and pointed it at Myung-dae's face. Before the man could even think to react, Song had pulled the trigger and placed a bullet in his forehead. The light left his eyes in an instant and he fell backward, hitting the floor with a thud.

"NOOOOOO!" Scott screamed in rage.

Song turned to aim for Scott, but the American was already charging his position. Song did manage to squeeze off a shot, but Scott had already lowered his head for a tackle, causing the bullet to fly over his head. Normally, Scott would have drawn his own pistol to match the North Korean, but with Myung-dae in the way, he had hesitated. Now, Song had the clear advantage with a weapon at the ready, forcing Scott to get in close and get him off-balance. Song grunted in pain as Scott slammed the full force of his body against him, pinning him against the doorframe. Before Song could get his weapon in position to execute the American, Scott had already latched his hand around Song's wrist. Scott then began banging Song's hand against the wall as hard as he could until the gun at last dropped from his hand. To Scott's good fortune, the weapon clattered to the ground and fell into an air vent sitting open for repairs on the floor.

"Sekki ya! You will die today!" Song growled in pain.

"Bring it on, bitch!" Scott sneered.

Though Scott had control of Song's wrists, the Korean had the presence of mind to kick his knee up into Scott's gut. This knocked the wind out of him, forcing Scott to retreat a step or two. Now with an opening, Song assumed a traditional Tae-kwon-do fighting stance and stared into Scott's eyes. One might have thought this was for intimidation purposes, but it was actually a means of reading one's opponent. After a moment, Scott's eyes flickered down and to his right, indicating he was reaching for something. As soon as Scott had pulled his own silenced pistol from his jacket pocket, Song was already in motion. His spin kick was so fast and so precise that Scott never knew what happened. One moment, he had a gun in his hand. The next, it was on the ground between the two men.

Both dived to the floor at once, but Song was a hair faster. Knowing he wouldn't be able to get control of the weapon just yet, Song swiped it with his hand and sent it sliding across the floor and into the kitchen. He then swung at Scott's face in an attempt to stun him before leaping to his feet turning toward the gun. Scott wasn't fazed by this, however, and immediately lunged forward to wrap his arms around Song's ankles. The Korean yelped in surprise as he fell face first to the floor mere feet short of the gun. By this time, the commotion had alerted Chin-sun in the bathroom.

"Scott?" she called out.

"Chin-sun, it's Song! He found us!" he shouted, struggling to restrain Song's crawl towards the pistol.

Just as Song was about to reach the pistol, Chin-sun appeared from the hallway and saw them entangled with each other. Not knowing what else to do, she kicked the gun away and under the refrigerator, out of reach of both Scott and Song.

"Ssi-bal nyeon!" Song swore.

"Haven't I already warned you about that word?!" Scott scolded him.

As Scott tried to get on top of Song to pin him and end his, the Korean managed to get one leg free and kick him in the face. Scott soon got to his feet, but Song was already charging and tackled him as Scott had done to him before. Scott landed hard against the dishwasher, which Song used as a workbench as he began to pound on Scott. He lashed out with punch after punch to Scott's face, his anger and frustration apparent in each and every blow. Scott managed to defend himself for a few seconds, but he knew he would need way out. He could hear a terrified Chin-sun whimpering in the corner, and a thousand thoughts began rattling through is mind.

Is this really it? Am I really going to die here? No... no, I can't let that happen! Chin-sun needs me, she's counting on me. I love her... and I won't let her down!

Out of the corner of his eye, Scott spotted the steaming pot of rice. After blocking one of Song's punches, he found a small opening reach for the pot with his free hand. By the time Song realized what Scott was up to, he already had the pot ready.

"Breakfast is served, asshole!"

Scott flipped the pot over and emptied its contents onto Song, causing him to cry out in pain from the hot food. A bit of it landed on Scott, though, and he knew right away that the rice wasn't hot enough to end the fight altogether. As Song staggered back a couple of steps, Scott reengaged him, attacking with targeted punches to his ribs, stomach, and kidneys. Unfortunately, the hot food had done little more than make the North Korean angry. Song recovered from Scott's offensive and forced him back with a chop to his neck. He then launched himself at Scott, enraged at the turn the fight had taken, and tackled him to the floor.

"This is where you die," he growled, wrapping his hands around Scott's throat.

On the other side of the kitchen, Chin-sun looked on in horror as Scott struggled against Song. As strong as her hero was, it was clear he would not be able to make it out of this; Song was draining his strength bit-by-bit. She was scared out of her mind, but she knew all that was meaningless at this point. Scott had saved her before, now it was her turn to help him. Collecting her courage, she untied the long ribbon in her hair and ran up behind Song.

"Release him!" she commanded.

Before Song knew what was happening, Chin-sun had wrapped her ribbon around his throat and pulled with all her strength. With the element of surprise, she had enough leverage to yank him off of Scott, who coughed and heaved in an attempt to catch his breath. Shaking his head a few times to clear his vision, Scott then saw Chin-sun struggling with Song. She might have had enough strength to pull Song away from him, but there was no way she could hold him for long. As Scott rose to his feet, Song had already broken free and was turning to take out his anger on Chin-sun. Thinking fast, he suddenly remembered Leon's combat knife hidden in his boot and withdrew it in one swift motion.

"LEAVE HER ALONE!" Scott screamed.

Song's head whirled around, but all too late. Scott charged forward with knife in hand, piercing the Korean right below his ribcage. Song's eyes bulged and his mouth dropped open as he attempted a scream of pain, but no sound came out. Scott caught him as he fell on his back to the floor; there was one matter of business to attend to.

"Song, stay with me," Scott said. "Don't die, not yet. I need to know where you got the uniform. Who gave you a South Korean uniform?"

Song only glared at him in reply. Feeling the last of his strength slipping away, he drew in a breath and spat what little fluid he had remaining in Scott's face. A moment later, Song's body fell limp.

"Fucking bastard..."

"Scott!" Chin-sun cried, rushing up to him. "Are you hurt?"

"I'll be fine," he assured her. "Come on, we need to leave."

"Leave? But... what about Myung-dae?"

"Chin-sun, we don't know if Song was alone or not! We have to leave now, or Myung-dae's sacrifice will be for nothing! Come on!"

A quick search of a bowl in the entryway netted Scott a car key belonging to the Kia K3 parked in the carport. He made sure to take a good look around before they climbed in; the last thing they needed was a nosey neighbor reporting them for theft. Thankfully, the coast was clear; most of the residents were still asleep in their beds. After starting up the car and getting his bearings, they were off to Yangyang International Airport.

*****

"You ready for this?" Scott asked.

"I think so," replied Chin-sun.

"We'll be fine. Just stick close to me and don't speak to anyone unless necessary."