[ WP ] An aging veteran gets dragged to a paintball facility by his grandkids . Another elderly man is there with his grandkids . The two quickly realize they ’ ve faced off on the battlefield before .

`` Enough lies. You gave yourself away when explaining to that boy...'' 
 
 `` My grandson...'' 
 
 ``... when explaining how to use his weapon. You used words that no Southerner ever would. My guess is that you learned how to shoot a weapon somewhere in the Soviet Union. 
 
 `` You're no Southern immigrant. You're one of the Eternal Leader's hand picked operatives. A sleeper agent, sent to the US on a secret mission, unknown to anyone outside the Leader's personal retinue. Not even his successor, or the current regime know of your existence. 
 
 `` You fooled the UNHCR. The ROK refugee office. US Immigration...'' 
 
 `` But not you.'' 
 
 The stocky Asian cuts you off, looks to his gun. 
 
 `` Weapon. This is just a toy. You get shot with this, and you stand up. You wave to your enemy, smile, and ask to leave the battlefield. 
 
 `` That's not real war. Real war. And I do n't mean the kind that cuts your brothers in half, or turns your friends into a shower of red mist and shrapnel. Although I've seen enough of that. 
 
 `` I'm talking about a war that lasts decades. Silent, lonely war that makes you live a lie. Even my dear wife thinks I'm from Incheon, and that I arrived in the states a wretched refugee.'' 
 
 He spat. 
 
 `` And you came close to catching me many times. I'd sit up in my bed, and think that every footstep on every sidewalk was you, coming for me. You know you came very close. Very close.'' 
 
 `` Pittsburgh,'' you interject. He nods. 
 
 `` Miluakee.'' 
 
 `` Birmingham.'' 
 
 You frown. 
 
 `` Birmingham?'' 
 
 He nods. `` Back in'99. Maybe that was n't you?'' 
 
 You chuckle. `` We stopped looking for you in the mid eighties. By then we assumed that the stories were just that. - Stories. Or that you'd been run over by a bus. Or given up. Or been taken back by Pyongyang. But obviously we were wrong.'' 
 
 He looks to the battlefield, where his grandson is still playing. You look into his war weary eyes. 
 
 `` Let us forget what happened before. The next generation needs never know. What we did is in the past. We did terrible things, for old men in distant capitals. The price our boys pay for their wars is paid by credit card, and their wounds are just fluorescent paint.'' 
 
 `` I'm afraid that wo n't ever happen.'' 
 
 `` It will though, Hyeong-un. It will. If we let it be. The past is the past.'' 
 
 `` No, Agent Smith. You misunderstand me. 
 
 `` The Eternal Leader gave me a mission. He trusted me, to a divine duty. I will restore glory to the Fatherland. 
 
 `` The house of Kim will continue. The Fatherland will be victorious. And the Korean family will once again be whole.'' 
 
 He flips his air rifle in his rough, dry hands, grabbing it by the barrel. He obviously is n't pretending to be a South Korean laundromat owner any more. 
 
 `` This toy might make a passable weapon after all.'' 
 
 He looks from it to you. 
 
 `` I ca n't let you go now that you've found me.'' 
 
 You flip your rifle in the same way. 
 
 `` You ca n't win, Comrade Pak.'' 
 
 `` I can and will, Agent Smith.'' 
 
 He raises his weapon high and swings the heavy stock at you. 
 
 EDIT: Punctuation. Ignore it, at your peril,
