Free Thunder in the Morning Calm by Don Brown

Gunner said.
    “By blood, that’s right. Although you can’t tell it by looking at him.”
    Just then a half-dozen double doors flew open all at once. The conference attendees began filing into the lobby, heading for the pots of tea and trays of refreshments laid out on tables.
    “That’s our cue,” Jackrabbit said. “Let’s go.”
    Gunner followed Jackrabbit into the back of the half-moon-shaped sanctuary, moving against the heavy flow of humanity pouring out. In minutes they stood in the presence of the charismatic man himself, the Reverend John-Floyd Lee.
    “Reverend, this is Commander Gunner McCormick,” Jackrabbit said.
    “Welcome to Korea, Commander.” The pastor’s English and his accent made Gunner think he could have been from the American Midwest. “And in the name of our Lord and Savior, welcome to Grace Church.” Lee extended his hand to Gunner.
    “Thank you, Pastor. This is a beautiful church.”
    “Thank you.” Lee smiled. “It is beautiful indeed, but only because the risen Lord is at work here.”
    “Amen to that,” Gunner said, feeling a bit awkward. This was the only response he could muster.
    “Commander McCormick is the man that Jung-Hoon Sohn called about.”
    “Ah, yes.” A look of recollection crossed Lee’s face. “Jung-Hoon will be meeting us in my office. Follow me, my brothers,” he said as he headed toward a side door and led the way down a hallway.
    A number of conference goers were milling about in the area, and the pastor smiled and shook their hands, but did not stop to chat. Fifty feet down the hall, they entered an elevator that took them up. A few moments later, the doors opened. Only a few people were standing in the hall.
    “This is the sixth floor. The church offices are up here,” Lee said. They turned right, walked down a blue-carpeted hallway, then through a door into an office reception area.
    A smiling woman sat behind the reception desk. She handed the pastor a note, he looked at it and put it in his pocket, then turned to Gunner and Jackrabbit. “Come into my office.”
    The pastor’s office overlooked the boulevard in front of the church.
    Jung-Hoon, who had been sitting on one of the two blue leather sofas, stood as they entered.
    “Jung-Hoon Sohn.” The pastor bowed at the aging warrior.
    “Nice to see you, Pastor Lee.” Jung-Hoon returned the bow.
    “I look for you every Sunday,” Pastor Lee chided.
    “Perhaps if you come to my bar on Saturday night, I come to your church on Sunday morning, Pastor Lee.”
    Lee chuckled. “I understand you wanted me to meet with Commander McCormick.”
    “Yes, I wanted him to meet you because he is proposing a mission that is similar to the mission that my brother and Jackrabbit’s wife were on.”
    The pastor’s friendly expression changed, and his bubbly countenance went solemn.
    “I thought,” Jung-Hoon said, “perhaps you might provide us some assistance through your network or, better yet, perhaps talk him out of it.”
    “I see,” the pastor said. “Everyone, please sit.”
    They sat down, and the pastor walked over and sat behind the large wooden desk flanked on each side by the South Korean flag and the white-blue-and-red Christian flag.
    “Tell me. How may I help?”
    Jung-Hoon said, “Pastor, the commander wants to finance a small mission into the North. His grandfather and other Americans disappeared there during the Korean War. He has heard the rumors that the Dear Leader may still be holding American soldiers, and he wants to find out for himself.”
    Lee looked at Gunner. “I am sorry about your grandfather. My grandfather was American, and he too fought in the North. But he was lucky. He made it home and married my grandmother, whom he met at the American base. He died twenty years ago, but I got to know him well, and it is his memory that has inspired this special ministry of ours.”
    Gunner looked at Jackrabbit and Jung-Hoon.
    “Pastor, I have not told the commander about your