"I heard that if I come here, I could hear heroic tales of the ghost fleet."
"Hear heroic tales? Are you a Hollywood writer or something?"
"If it's related to my business, everything is a heroic tale. A friend told me that stories about the Liberian ship here would be very interesting."
When I mentioned the Liberian-flagged ship, the old man's expression hardened.
After a long wait, he rummaged through his pocket and pulled out a cigarette.
"Please, Mister."
I saw a match on the table and lit it for him.
"Phew... Yes, it was mid-October 1962, I believe..."
"... It was the Cuban Missile Crisis."
Damn, October 1962 was indeed the Cuban Missile Crisis. It was the event where the Soviet Union attempted to place missiles in Cuba, leading the United States to consider nuclear war.
It was even made into a movie that became a hit in the 21st century.
Back then, I watched it for fun, but now, it's only been about three years since it happened in this era.
"That's right. It was a secret military operation. It was a mission directly ordered by President Kennedy. We completely blockaded Cuba's territorial waters with several aircraft carriers and over a hundred warships."
"You participated in that operation."
"That's right. We were a special operations unit made up of retired soldiers. The plan was to disguise ourselves as a regular merchant ship, approach Cuba via the Panama Canal, and let our allies capture us. The idea was to show the world that while we were controlling Cuba completely, regular merchant ships unrelated to the missile crisis could safely pass."
It was a rigged Go-Stop game.
"You wanted to send a message of peace."
"Exactly. We were willing to endure the disgrace of being captured by our own forces to prevent a nuclear war. We worked like madmen to repair that old junk of a ship! We were just about to head towards the Panama Canal. But then, then!"
Bang!
The old man slammed the table with his beer bottle, still feeling the frustration even now.
"Was the operation suddenly halted?"
"... Yes... It was canceled so abruptly. We didn't even get an official order, just a single phone call saying it was off."
It's understandable in a way.
While the US and Soviet leaders appeared to be in extreme confrontation, neither actually wanted war, so they defused tensions politically.
When the US blockaded Cuba, the Soviet merchant ships voluntarily submitted to American inspections, and the Americans politely searched the ships in uniform, handing out chocolates and cigarettes, and then sent them back.
They exchanged peace messages that way, leading to a rapid resolution of the two-week standoff.
"No matter how secret the operation, just a phone call..."
"Damn it! Those lazy bastards moved like lightning then. But they didn't touch the really important issue."
"What was the important issue?"
"They didn't restore my original status! Instead of a medal, I got hit with a massive fine. I was labeled as the owner of an illegal merchant ship collaborating with a communist state, crossing between Cuba and the US illegally. The fines piled up, and I went bankrupt."
"Damn... How could that happen in the US?"
"Damn Kennedy didn't handle it before he got shot and died! Even if they didn't give me a medal, they should've restored my life! Fuck!!"
The old veteran slammed the table repeatedly, venting his rage. He gulped down beer to calm his anger.
How thorough was his identity laundering for things to get so twisted? Perhaps all the confidential operation documents disappeared when President Kennedy was assassinated?
Was there no one left to take responsibility?
No wonder he became a drunkard.
After retirement, he participated in a top-secret national operation out of patriotism, only to end up being treated as a communist smuggler.
"If only I could sell that old wreck of a ship, I might have done something. But every time I tried to gather money, they seized it for fines, so I couldn't do anything!"
It seemed he couldn't sell the ship without paying the fines. Things were really tangled up.
It was a miracle the old man hadn't died of stress.
At least he met me now.
I will help him.
"How much are the fines?"
"A whopping over a million dollars per ship. Six ships in total, so over six million dollars."
"Alone..."
"Why didn't you do anything to your superiors? I don't even know who was in charge of the operation. It was a secret operation! Damn bastards!! They should've given me a contact!"
In the end, this old veteran was forgotten by his country.
Considering how much was buried in US politics after Kennedy's assassination, it's not surprising. Even the identity of the mastermind behind the assassination remains unclear.
This old man's story, which almost became a part of an aborted operation, is just a speck of dust in all that.
It seems Godell only knew that these ships were left ownerless here.
"A hero who stood up for his country shouldn't be treated like this. I'll help you."
"You... You'll help me?"
"Part of my business involves military supply contracts. I can't ignore a story like this while making money from that."
"You're going to spend that money on me?"
The old man grabbed my hand in surprise.
"If we pay off the fines, you can use the ship to reclaim your life. Leave it to me."
"Oh my. Such a kind Jap... I've been living wrong. Living wrong."
"I told you I'm Korean."
"Ah, right, you said Korean. I once supported the Korean War supplies too, though it was within the US."
"You've helped Korea before. That's all the more reason I should help you."
I held the old man's hand with both of mine.
"You helped Korea. I'm meeting a hero."
Next to me, Captain Yoon Sang-soo stood and saluted, and the old man stood up and saluted back, recalling his lost pride with the disciplined salute.
"First, we need to see the ship to figure out what to do. Is it nearby?"
"Of course. Let's go. My fishing boat will get us there in no time."
The old man ferried us across the bay in a small boat. Though it seemed too old to be seaworthy, it didn't sink.
After a while, we saw the large ships indeed floating there.
They were chained up as a sign of being impounded.
As we got closer, we could see what kind of fines had been imposed.
Rusty water was dripping from the ships, and oil residues leaking from some ships had polluted the seawater.
Fines for illegal territorial intrusion and environmental pollution would have been imposed.
A hundred thousand dollars per ship made sense.
'Mr. Woo, there are tankers as well as cargo ships. This is... This is huge.'
Captain Yoon Sang-soo whispered to me, barely containing his excitement.
'Control your expression.'
'Yes, I understand.'
'The same goes for you, Vice Minister.'
'Yes, Mr. Woo.'
We all focused on calming our excitement.
If all went well, a respectable shipping company was on the verge of being born in Korea.
As long as the ships were in decent condition, I would make sure the old man's life was well compensated. Don't worry.
I promised as I climbed the ladder to the tanker behind the old man.
"This tanker, though rusty, is a Panamax ship. Among tankers that can pass through the Panama Canal, it's the largest. It was once a hero of the seas, providing heavy oil to the US Navy."
The old man, reminiscing, tapped the deck with his foot as he spoke.
It was incredible.
Even in the 1960s, a Panamax tanker meant it was at least 60,000 tons.
While not comparable to 21st-century VLCC tankers, it was sufficiently sizable for this era.
"What about the ship next to it? It looks smaller."
"They may look different, but they're all 10,000-ton cargo ships. They've been modified, so they won't break apart. Very sturdy."
The fleet consisted of one tanker and five cargo ships, meant to be captured in Cuban waters.
They were modified military transport ships from World War II, disguised as merchant ships, making them look like siblings.
"Mr. Woo, the hull and deck are all rusted, with almost no usable parts. I'm not sure if they'll be worth anything."
Captain Yoon, in his typical composed English, pointed out negative aspects calmly.
"Hmm, that's a bit concerning, isn't it?"
The old man's expression grew serious at Captain Yoon's words.
"Still, we should find something of value."
I pretended to be serious but was actually thrilled inside.
When the entire hull is rusted like this, often the interior remains intact.
If only the surface rusts in patches, deep corrosion occurs in specific areas, making it impossible to salvage just by scraping off the surface rust.
When the rust is widespread, you can cleanly scrape it off, reinforce the inner hull with additional material, and repaint the exterior, making the hull usable again.
Moreover, since they said they replaced major components, those parts might still be in near-new condition, preserved by the hull's rust.
My heart raced.
'This isn't just a jackpot; it's a mega jackpot! We're about to acquire a usable tanker!'
Though my mind was filled with fanfare, I maintained a serious expression outwardly.
"Yes, you're right. Even if the exterior is like this, the interior might still have usable parts. Shall we take a look?"
"How about the engine room? There might be salvageable parts there."
"Yes, exactly! We replaced the engine
and major components. They're only about four years old."
The old man, clinging to his last hope, hurriedly led me to the engine room.
Though I felt a bit bad for causing the old man more stress, if he knew these ships were valuable, he might develop greed. So, I had to maintain control.
Vice Minister Yeom and Professor Yoon likely felt the same.
Their expressions as they looked at the old man's back said it all.
"This is an 8000-horsepower steam turbine engine, proudly made by the Czechs. It's quite powerful. And these auxiliary engines on both sides are Czech gas turbine engines. With gas turbines, it can accelerate up to 16 knots. It's a very impressive tanker."
Oh, I see why things got messed up.
They used communist country engines to disguise the ship for Cuban operations.
Publicly declaring it a covert operation wouldn't be an option. This old man wasn't meant to become a retired soldier. He was supposed to be officially captured and have his identity laundered again.
Things got really tangled up.
Should I take this old man along with me?
If he installed these engines, he seems like a skilled technician.
"These engines look repairable. That's a relief."
"Glad to hear it. So, how much do you think we could sell this ship for?"
"Well, Vice Minister Yeom would know best, wouldn't he?"
I pointed to Vice Minister Yeom Won-chul.
"Me?"
"Of course. You know best about the expenses for legal procedures here."
"Well, I don't know much about ships, but I can calculate costs. Including the 100,000 dollars fine per ship, late fees, and various other expenses, it would easily reach 750,000 dollars per ship."
"Gasp! 750,000 dollars!"
It was an amount the old man couldn't handle.
"If you transfer all the documents and rights to me, I'll give you 200,000 dollars for the tanker and 150,000 dollars per cargo ship. That way, you'll make 200,000 dollars."
Even if I give the old man 200,000 dollars, it's still a third of the initial offer from Nancy.
"You... Did you say 200,000 dollars?"
The old man was shocked.
It was the first time he met someone willing to pay 200,000 dollars in exchange for the rights to these ships.
"It's a gesture of respect for a hero who helped Korea. If my offer is uncomfortable, feel free to consult an American lawyer."
"No, no! You do it! You do it!"
The old man waved his hands frantically, entrusting it to me.
It's understandable. He must have tried to find out his situation.
American lawyers probably either refused due to the troublesome nature of the case or demanded a hefty fee to solve the fine issue.
"Then let's make a contract. If you transfer all rights to me, I'll deposit 200,000 dollars. I'll give you an advance with the cash I have on hand."
I pulled out all the money from my wallet.
It was less than a thousand dollars, but to him, it was a significant amount and a token of trust.
"Thank you. Thank you."
"But there's one condition, sir."
"Anything. I'll do whatever I can."
"Could you teach the captain here and my staff how to operate this ship? I need to move the ship to avoid losses."
"Sure, sure. I must."
"And give me all the related documents. We'll head to San Francisco with Mr. Yeom and take care of everything cleanly."
"Of course. Today I've met three precious people. Thank you. Thank you."
The old man seemed to trust us even more, leaving Captain Yoon and his crew by his side.
"Let's head back now."
"Get on the boat, quickly."
The old man swiftly and lightly boarded the small boat, as if flying through the clouds, and I waved a hand kiss as we briefly parted from our boat.
Once we went to San Francisco, paid the fines, and transferred the ship ownership to me, the rest would be handled by Van Flint.
Honestly, these ships must have had their military records cleanly erased the moment they were disguised as merchant ships for the operation, so there should be no issue with the transaction.
Along with Daese 1, I now had six large ships added to my fleet.
Even the smell of oil in the bay seemed refreshing.
"Oh!"
"What is it, Mr. Woo?"
"Isn't that an Extra Master certificate?"
"Gasp! A graduate of King Edward VII Maritime University?"
Seeing the framed certificate hung in a corner of the shabby small boat, I was stunned.
This old man was not only an Extra Master, the master of all captains, but also graduated from King Edward VII University, one of the top maritime universities.
"Captain Yoon, please recruit that gentleman."
"Yes, sir."
I asked Captain Yoon to recruit him.
Running Daese Shipping with just Captain Yoon was a burden, and now I felt I had another valuable helper.
"Yes, yes! 200,000 dollars!!! I'm rich!"
The old man, unaware we were looking at his certificate, couldn't hide his excitement, waving his arms and steering the boat.
Honestly, giving him 200,000 dollars was enough to cover the scouting fee.
"Congratulations, Mister!"
"Congratulations."
"Old soldiers never die. They just retire wealthy."
"Hahaha!"
It was a joyful day for everyone.
Isn't this the American Dream?