Tucked in a strip-mall between a gas station and a Dairy Queen, on the outskirts of Minneapolis, the Chun Mee restaurant seemed like any other mid-western family eatery. Booths and chairs were covered in red vinyl, the curtains were floral print, tablecloths and silverware utilitarian, kung pao chicken and wontons on the menu. Yet every so often, a wide-eyed stranger would stumble through the doors and stammer out a question.“Are the rumors true? Are you him?”John Chun’s face would crease into a broad grin beneath the red Cobra cap he inevitably wore. He’d point to a faded photo of a Korean man standing next to a 1967 Shelby Mustang GT350. “That young guy in the picture,” he’d say, “He’s the one who did it.”Slowly, the visitor would realize that the place was filled with cars. Photographs and sketches hung everywhere on the walls, snapshots from a sun-faded California, a birthday card signed by Carroll Shelby. If you leaned in for a closer look, you’d see a signature carefully printed on drawings that would become lasting American icons of speed. John Chun escaped from North Korea twice, and you can still find his coiled cobra on every Shelby Mustang sold today.He…