bloodshed in a deeply unpopular war. And North Korea, under its Great Leader Kim Il Sung, was warning that the Americans could not to be trusted and might attack at any time; in violation of the armistice, the country was smuggling in Soviet-made MiG fighter jets and beginning to fly them on reconnaissance missions.

That fall morning, North Korean fighter pilot No Kum Sok seized his chance to fly away. For years, he had pretended to be a “No. 1 Communist,” but, in truth, he loathed the Great Leader and wanted to live in the United States. At an airfield near Pyongyang, he climbed into the cockpit of a MiG-15. He knew the fighter well, having flown more than 100 missions in one against American Sabre jets during thewar. He also knew exactly where to find Kimpo, an American air base near Seoul in South Korea. He knew, too, how much fuel he would need for his 600-mile-an-hour escape in the gas-guzzling fighter.


He did not know about “Operation Moolah”: a standing offer from the U.S. Air Force of $100,000 (about $900,000 today) to any Russian, Chinese or North Korean pilot with the moxie to swipe a battle-ready Soviet MiG and deliver it intact to the Americans. The offer was made before the armistice by General Mark W. Clark, commander of U.S. forces in the Far East. Clark thought it would vex the enemy and sow suspicion among Communist commanders.

Instead, it vexed Eisenhower, who hated the notion of paying off a Commie thief. He and his administration