The Metropolitan Police Department had an anti-terrorist force called SAT, but there wasn't much they could do now that the plane was all the way in North Korea.
Out on the campaign trail, the Prime Minister learned of the incident during a press conference when an NHK reporter asked him about it.
Shrugging, he commented that he didn't have any information and would talk about it as soon as he did. He then, perhaps foolishly, resumed talking about other topics, giving his critics much fuel.
The strangest aspect of this hijacking was that no one claimed responsibility for it.
The U.S. AWACS in South Korea issued an announcement that Flight 903 landed at Sunan's Air Base, about twelve miles north of Pyongyang.
And the whole time, the hostages were ignorant of their predicament.
Something was amiss.
The passengers did not understand why they had been flying over mountain ranges for so long, nor why they weren't already to their island destination.
The stewardess was just as in the dark as everybody else.
"No need to worry," she assured them, smiling, "I'm sure we'll be landing soon—probably has to do with the weather."
Eventually, the plane did prepare to land. Passengers on the port side of the craft could see a town near the runway, but it looked quiet and rundown, lined by old-fashioned factories belching puffs of nasty black smoke. Looking out the window was like looking into a picture of Japan's past.
"I knew something was wrong," asserted Shinji Kazama. "This isn't Okinawa. It doesn't even look like Japan."
"It would seem that way," replied Sousuke.
During the flight, Sousuke and Shinji easily identified the South Korean Air Force F-I6. They knew there was no way that plane would be flying over the Pacific Ocean en route to Okinawa.
Before long, the plane landed. Several hundred feet from the runway, there was a large hangar in which many outdated warplanes sat, waiting for action. The aircraft looked like carps with wings glued on.
"Sagara, those are MiG-2Is. I mean, J7s."
From their vantage point in the plane, they also could see a pair of antediluvian tanks.
"Whoa! Look at those! T-34s!" Shinji nearly crapped his pants. "Those junk heaps are at least fifty years old!"
There were, in addition to the outdated technology, at least a few Arm Slaves. Sousuke and Shinji could make out three.
"Whoa! A new Rk-92! Did they skip everything in between?"
The Rk-92 was a long-armed, Soviet-made AS with khaki– colored armor and weapons, the most popular camouflage in the East. Most Western militaries referred to the Rk-92s as "Savages." Sousuke knew that AS well, for he had piloted one—even fought in it.
Based on the number and type of weapons, Sousuke knew it had to be, without a doubt, a North Korean base.
According to Mao's latest report, Kaname was no longer in danger. However, the latest
This could not be a coincidence. Whoever was responsible chose the most reliable form of abduction—with several hundred hostages, not even Mithril would leap to the rescue carelessly.
To make matters worse, they were definitely in North Korea, a country whose relations with Japan were, to put it mildly, strained. A rescue operation in a semi-hostile area would be much more dangerous. It was a new twist to an old-school hijacking.
"Nicely done," assessed Sousuke.
"Huh?" grunted Shinji inquisitively.
"Nothing."
There was almost nothing Sousuke could do. In accordance with school policy and airline regulations, he didn't even have a gun with him. Even if he did, it wouldn't have done him much good.
Other, slightly denser passengers started to connect the dots and began to clamor.
"Attention, passengers. Thank you for flying with us today," said a male voice. "As you might have guessed, this is not Naha airport. Due to unavoidable circumstances, we have been forced to land at the Sunan airport in the Democratic People's Republic of Korea."
"What? Are you kidding?" shouted Miss Kagurazaka, the rarely fazed homeroom teacher.
"Just listen, ma'am," instructed Shinji.
"Next week, the imperialist American military and their South Korean puppets are holding joint maneuvers to intimidate the heroic People's Army. My brethren in the People's Army must quash U.S. imperialism, even if that means taking all you nice people hostage. Please, take a look out the windows."
Several hundred people pressed their faces against the Plexiglas to see armored vehicles, Arm Slaves, and uniformed soldiers surrounding the plane.
"They are here to welcome you. But if you do not follow our directions, or if you foolishly try to escape, they will shoot you on sight."
Passengers gasped.
