Code Word: Paternity, A Presidential Thriller (30 page)

Chapter 52

 
“Aaron, any positive signs . . . Kim . . .
coming to his senses?” said Martin, tone and expression revealing his optimism
making its last stand against despair.

 
“Mr. President, the military appears to have
completed movement into positions to attack the ROK. Overhead shows initial
launch preparations at several ballistic missile sites but no sign of missiles
themselves. The motorized infantry regiment we first observed near Pyongyang a week ago
remains there. Imagery of sub bases shows empty, so the boats must be at sea.”

“Aaron, what I
asked was do you have any evidence of a move against
Kim?”
said Martin, loudly.

Impassive, the DNI said, “None, sir. The
movement of that regiment to Pyongyang
last week was probably a precaution in case of unrest, but we’ve seen nothing
on overhead. If there were street demonstrations, we’d see ’em.”

“And the U.S. Interest section of the
Swedish embassy in Pyongyang
tells us there’s no political activity,” interjected Battista.

“Yeah, but it’s not mobs of peasants
waving pitchforks or Pyongyang’s
citizens marching with placards: it’s the calculation of a few powerful men in
Kim’s inner circle!”

 
“Sir, we can’t see into the minds of those
men. That information is simply not available to us.”

Guarini’s heart hurt for his friend as
the DNI’s reply left him twisting in the wind. Feeling like witnesses before an
execution, the NSC and advisors sat fidgeting, watching the president, who
would address the nation at nine that night, the zero hour. Everything was
ready: if he signed the attack order, three neutron bombs would detonate above
Sinpo as he spoke to the world.

Dully, Rick said, “So what can you tell
us about China,
Aaron?”

“Mr. President, overhead imagery and
communication analyses paint a picture of Chinese preparations to move into North Korea. As
we’ve reported, for the past week China has allotted nearly one
hundred percent of all transport—road, rail, and air—to moving troops. And
they’ve put their entire airborne force, about thirty-five thousand soldiers,
on high alert, plus having their largest airborne training exercise ever. That
suggests they plan on more than just putting up a human wall at the Korean
border to stop refugees.”
 

Griffith
said, “Since we weren’t all in on your
conversation with Ming Liu, can you bring us up to speed?”

Rick suppressed his irritation at Griffith’s snarky
question. “Ming is tough, but he’s level-headed and unemotional. I can work
with him, tomorrow and down the road.

“But today . . . the bill comes due for
all we’ve given China
. . . and Ming will pay it. “

“Did he say
that?”

“No, Bruce, but he has no better option
if we hit Sinpo. That would force Ming’s hand. He’d then believe we’d follow up
with a full nuclear attack, and he can’t live with that.

 
“Anne . . . the UN?”

 
“Mr. President, the Russians introduced a
Security Council resolution that a nuclear attack on North Korea would be genocide.
Obviously, that’s not going to pass, but it will get quite a few votes. They’ll
also introduce it in the General Assembly, and there it
will
pass.

“The DPRK UN ambassador’s invitation to
President Clinton to come to Pyongyang
in the interests of peace was a pretty predictable and cynical move. Clinton’s turn-down is
being cited by some as evidence that you don’t want anything to stand in the
way of nuclear war, Mr. President.”

“Well, Bill might have gone if I hadn’t
convinced him that he was going to be held hostage.” Martin paused and for an
instant they saw the old insouciance. “It may also have helped that I reminded
him about his decision not to reveal Chinese cooperation with Pakistan’s nuclear bomb program, which probably
enabled Khan to help Kim build the Las
Vegas bomb. We agreed it wouldn’t help if that were
raked over while Las Vegas
is still radioactive.”

The president paused, pinching the bridge
of his nose, eyes squinted. “Anything else, Anne?”

“Well, the secretary-general is as
frustrated and furious as his countryman Gwon. He’s trying to create a wave of
condemnation that will make us extend the deadline, climb down from our
ultimatum.”

 
Well, what else did we think he’d do? He’s
just defending his tribe, like I am.

“I guess we have
to expect that.

“Sara, what news from Homeland Security?”
That’s going to make Bruce mad, asking
Sara when I’ve put him in charge of homeland defense, but I don’t care. Sara
will tell the truth. Bruce won’t.

“My people are working their butts off,
but the results are uneven, sir. The truth is, what triggered the first alert,
which eventually led us to that bomb, was a fluke. It was the damn asset
control device that led to the initial inspection,
not
radiation from the bomb.

“So, we plug away, every day, but it
takes time to produce more and better radiation scanners, time to install them,
time to train operators . . . and time works against us. If they get lucky
once, or we screw up once . . . well, that could be another city.”

 
“We’re here to put
that
shoe on the other foot!” said the vice president, unable to
contain himself any longer.

Martin sighed. “No, Bruce, we’re here to
decide
. I haven’t signed the order.” The
president’s voice was tired but firm.

Guarini said, “Mr. President, Americans
want Kim gone,
now
! Today most of
them don’t care as much about
how
that’s done as they do about
getting
it done. Later, when they feel safer, they
will
care and you’ll be subject to criticism, maybe a lot of criticism. But right
now . . . well, we’ve seen people vote on this administration with their feet.”

Even
you, Bart?
Martin seemed
to shrink, to accept that his desperate hope of avoiding a slaughter was gone.

Hurriedly, Dorn said: “What about asking
Congress for a declaration of war before launching the attack? I know this isn’t
the first time we’ve considered this, but I think it could be very important.”

Leaning forward, Griffith pounced. “Congress will
not
take responsibility for this
decision, but they may encumber it with conditions. Like no use of nuclear
weapons without separate congressional approval! Like only purely military
targets may be attacked! No matter what, the Martin administration owns this
decision, so let’s not waste time and energy—maybe even tie our hands—trying to
duck it!”

In a moment of kindness to the man he had
leaned on during what he now thought of as the first day of the rest of his
life, Martin said, “John, you told me—when Paternity first implicated Kim—I
should announce our course of action right then. You were right. That was the
time to go for a declaration of war, back then, while we had diplomatic avenues
to pursue as Congress debated. That wasn’t the course I chose. And because of
my decision then, the time is past to go for a declaration.”
 

Dorn bobbed his head.

The president’s gaze swept the room.
Zimmer said, “I’ve said my piece, sir.” MacAdoo shook his head and the two
intelligence leaders returned his gaze inscrutably.

Numb, light-headed, feeling overpowered
by dark, bloody forces, Rick said, “OK, now the principals.” He looked at Anne
Battista.

God
he looks bad!
she
thought.
I’ve never seen Rick Martin with
all the hope drained out of him, but that’s how he is now. He looks like my
uncle, at the end, when the cancer was eating his guts.

 
“Mr. President, force always waits behind
diplomacy, and Kim has now left us no choice but force. When Kim’s gone, the
new partnership we’ve built with Ming and his government will allow us to
return to diplomacy and, with Ming, end the threat of both North Korean nuclear
weapons and aggression.

“My recommendation, Mr. President, is to
carry out our plan to remove Kim.”

“No second
thoughts, Anne, no doubts?”

 
“Of course I have doubts, Mr. President! But
those doubts can’t be resolved now. We must act in spite of doubts.”

Martin nodded, whether in agreement or
just in submission to the inevitable she couldn’t tell.

“Eric?”

 
“You can’t leave Kim in position to attack
with nukes when and where he chooses. He’s left you no means but force to stop
that. And you have, correctly in the view of us all, chosen to remove him with
the method that poses least risk to Americans and by far the greatest chance of
success: our nuclear weapons. It’s also the way that poses least risk to South Korea and Japan, because it’s certain Kim
would nuke them if we invaded. Not to mention that if we invade, China will come
in militarily!

“So, Mr.
President, I recommend you sign the attack order.”

I
agree with you Eric, but when your words have died away and become just part of
the record of this meeting, my signature will still be on that order. I will
always know I killed fifty thousand people.

Rick was sweating heavily, feeling
nausea, pressure on his chest. He ignored them and turned to Griffith. “Bruce?”

Thinking of his place in history and his
eventual run for the presidency, Griffith
decided the dice had turned against him. Time to leave the table and cash in
while he still had a stake for the next game. The trick was to be a team
player, while leaving a whiff in the air that the president had only done what
he
would have done more quickly, leaving
it to others, others he knew, to paint a picture of the cost of Martin’s
dithering since Six-thirteen.

 
“Mr. President, at this meeting you asked for
and received the best advice of the members of the NSC, advice rendered free of
coercion and not precooked in any way. This is the most responsible form of
presidential decision making and stands in marked contrast to the last
Republican administration.

“We have not always seen eye to eye,
sir—I was perhaps too early to recommend what I urge again now: Sign the order.
Remove Kim immediately.”

Unbidden, Rick’s
brain recalled another Bible verse: “It is finished.” He felt cold and clammy.
OK, do it now, while you can still hold a
pen.

He opened the folder, signed, handed the
order to Easterly. Pain radiated down his left arm. Unsure if he could stand,
he said, “Thank you all for your honesty and support. We’re done now, but I’d
like to have the room for a few minutes with Bart.”

Chairs rustled on the carpet as the
others left, with worried glances at him. Rick felt their sense of purpose—and
fear.
Besides having the duty to get this
right, we’re all afraid of history’s verdict. Are Bart and the others going to
take their places with Truman’s advisors, or Stalin’s? And which of them will I
be compared to?

Alone with his president, Guarini heard a
voice from within, speaking with the clarity and force of both mind and soul:
You’ve got to keep him functioning. He’s got
to make that speech.

 
He
saw sweat on Martin’s forehead and trembling in his right hand. After a few
words, Guarini called the White House physician, Captain Beck, and told him to
come quickly but discreetly to the Cabinet Room.

Chapter 53

Ella, Bart, and Captain Beck watched from
a corner of the Oval Office as the president pronounced Sinpo dead. To Dr.
Beck’s relief it didn’t take long, just over two minutes. He wanted to get his
IV going again, treating the president’s heart attack with a thrombolytic drug
to break up any further clots and prevent a sequel.

As Rick began his
final sentences with a slight quaver, Ella tensed, willing him to hold up.

“America
and our allies, Japan and
the Republic of Korea, will not permit an outlaw regime
to attack us at the whim of its murderous leader, Kim Jong-il. That tyrant has
refused repeated opportunities to turn away the horror that has engulfed Sinpo.
Sadly, his countrymen have been unwilling—so far—to protect themselves from the
consequences of Kim’s actions by forcing him to give up power.

 
“If Kim still refuses to step down, and his
countrymen refuse to make him do so, we will obliterate the nation that has
attacked us twice, killing more Americans than any enemy since World War II. I
pray that will not be necessary, but I promise
you,
and I promise all who dwell in North Korea, that I
will
give the order.

“Good night, my fellow Americans.
Tonight, as on Six-thirteen, I have miles to go before I sleep. I ask for your
prayers.”

Dr. Beck and a navy medic moved rapidly
toward the president, Ella right behind. At his side, she saw tears in his eyes
and took his hand. Bart hovered silently.

Guarini and Easterly intended that after
his speech the president would go to the National
Military Command
Center during this period of greatest
danger, especially to South Korea
and Japan.
If Kim decided to carry out his threats, artillery shells would crash onto Seoul and missiles would
appear briefly on launch pads before climbing skyward with nuclear warheads.

Dr. Beck forbade that move now. He
insisted that his patient sit or lie quietly. Bart didn’t want outsiders to see
the president hooked to an IV line, so they went to the Situation Room.

Guarini thought Rick seemed shattered by
what he had ordered. Taking the Sit Room watch officer aside, the chief of
staff told him not to display video of Sinpo and to give any information about
the city to him alone.

Satellites gazed piercingly at North Korea,
employing high-powered optics by day and infrared radar to see through night
and clouds. If Kim’s missiles appeared on launch pads, Martin could give an
order that would turn every North Korean missile site and city into ground zero
of a nuclear missile. Or, he could spare North Korea and the planet the effects
of so many nuclear detonations and pray that U.S. jets swarming the launch
pads, plus the Asian missile defenses so recently cobbled together, would
prevent Kim’s missiles from incinerating Tokyo, Seoul, Pusan, and other cities
and U.S. bases.

After the initial bustle of the
president’s arrival, compounded by Dr. Beck’s insistence that he lie down, the
room was quiet. Ella sat beside her husband, gently stroking his twitching
hand.

Today
Rick’s lived the destruction of his beliefs, not by someone else, but by his
own hand,
she thought.
He’s not fierce. He can’t wrap himself in a
shield of rage. But he did it anyway, feeling all the pain. He’s not a warrior
like my father or Ray, but he’s brave.

She sat quietly, holding her husband’s
hand and savoring this new dimension of the man she’d loved for twenty-five
years but never trusted, on the primal level that still lurked, as her
protector. Now her doubts were gone.

***

Minister of Defense Chen Shaoshi looked
up from the note passed by an aide.

“Aircraft with our soldiers are flying
toward Pyongyang
but will not cross the border until you approve. Our fighters are on the
highest ground alert and will launch for Pyongyang
at your command.”

Ming nodded and gazed silently at images
from China’s
satellites. Sinpo was very heavily damaged, but not obliterated. As the live
feed swept the DPRK, Ming was relieved by what he did
not
see. He didn’t see any missiles in launch position. Their plan
was working, at least for the moment.

***

It was alarming: even the heavy damage to
Sinpo did not explain the thousands of bleeding, twitching people lying in the
streets or staggering about.
 
Marshal
Young-san read reports impassively but worried. It was clear that that
something more than blast and fire was stalking the surviving citizens of
Sinpo.

He feared that perhaps the unknown killer
was biological, a deadly toxin that would fell his troops and destroy his
strategy for ousting Kim. Then an aide brought him information from an American
press briefing. It was not a toxin, but radiation that produced the
ever-growing flood of vomiting, collapsing, hemorrhaging people.

On learning that, the marshal again felt
confident of success and, since he cared not a whit for Sinpo’s inhabitants,
became elated. Stifling that distraction, Young-san directed his rifle regiment
commander to seize the national radio and television facilities. Putting on his
cap bearing five red stars, he moved decisively toward his waiting limo. As he
settled into the rear seat, he checked his pistol.

***

Kim Jong-il’s fury was white hot because
it was fueled by shame. Once again Martin failed to respect him and his dear
people.
The American was such a fool!
This attack meant Martin didn’t believe he would unleash nuclear fire on the
dogs to the south, on the hated Japanese, and on American bases. Such
disrespect must be answered!
Hearing the guards outside his door stomp to
attention, Kim spun around.

Marshal Yong-san burst into the room.
“Your missiles are launching now, Dear Leader! Seoul is crumbling under the impact of your
artillery and rockets. You have stood firm, faced the Americans, and sent them
a fitting response for Sinpo, a response ten times Martin’s minor damage to an
insignificant city!

“Now, Dear Leader, we must follow our
plan; we must go to your war headquarters, because the Americans will surely
hit Pyongyang.”

Kim longed to lead his onrushing army
through the DMZ and into Seoul,
killing and destroying. He wanted to bayonet enemy soldiers a
s his own soldiers watched, awe
struck at their
leader’s courage and raging fury. But, he had to think of his dear people’s
needs. He needed to show himself and his wise leadership to the entire nation.
As satisfying as it would be to slash and stab with his assault troops, he
would be affecting only a tiny part of the battle. No, as he always did, Kim
must push aside his own desires and steadily use his clear vision to care for
his people. He could not indulge himself. He must go to Mount Jamo.

“Then let us go,
Marshal.”

Kim and Marshal Young-san descended to
the sub-basement in the Dear Leader’s private elevator. There before an
unmarked door were Major Rhee Song-il, who had made a career of handling
“special assignments” for Young-san, and two armed soldiers. As Kim and
Young-san passed through, Rhee and the soldiers took positions guarding the
door.

When the two leaders had gone, Rhee
returned to the Dear Leader’s office. He dialed the communications minister’s
direct number, which was answered not by the minister but the army colonel now
controlling all national communications facilities.

Broadcasters soon announced the joyous
news: the People’s Republic of China
Army was once again coming to stand fearlessly beside their younger cousins in
defiance of the Americans.

Kim Jong-il was one of the few in the
DPRK who didn’t hear the joyous news. After passing through the unmarked door,
he and the marshal had entered a high-speed elevator and descended one hundred
fifty meters. An electric vehicle waited to carry them through a tunnel to Mount Jamo.

After standing aside to let Kim enter,
Marshal Young-san shot him. Kim sprawled face down, his lower legs projecting
out the door. The marshal lifted Kim’s legs, bending Kim’s knees until his
heels nearly touched his buttocks, then pushed him in. His body slid easily,
lubricated by gore from his shattered skull. From the platform, the marshal
leaned in and pushed a button, setting the car in motion. Marshal Young-san
walked swiftly to the elevator and returned to Kim’s former office. He had much
to do while Major Rhee’s special security unit dealt with Kim’s body.

***

“Sir! President Ming’s coming up on
secure one. The NMCC is also on the circuit.”

The president had been in the Situation
Room with Ella, Guarini, Battista, and Dorn for eighteen hours. Rick had been
dozing; now he fought to clear the cobwebs.

“Good evening,
Rick.”

His heart
pounding, the American responded. “Good morning, Ming.”

“China has dealt with the terrible
dangers you created by bombing Sinpo. Tell me, Rick, how did you know that Kim
was going to inspect the army garrison at Sinpo yesterday?”

“Ming, I
didn’t
know.”

“Kim’s body was
found in Sinpo a few hours ago.”

Martin,
uncertain, said nothing.

“As you no doubt
already know, China’s
forces are now entering the DPRK. We are responding to the invitation of Kim’s
successor, Marshal Young-san Ho, who asked for assistance in defending against
another U.S.
invasion. I told him China
would stand with him if the DPRK gives up its nuclear weapons and the means of
building them. He agreed.”

The release of tension in the Sit Room
and the national military command center was accompanied by high fives and
backslapping. Amid the hubbub, Martin blurted, “Ming that is very, very good
news! What are China’s
intentions now regarding Korea?”

“To provide the support necessary for the
DPRK to remain a member of the socialist brotherhood and to ensure that neither
Marshal Young-san nor his successors rebuild the nuclear weapons program.
Surely this is important to American security, and America will support it
politically, financially, and militarily!”

“China can count on that!”
 

Rick exhaled in a rush that swept his
fear and weariness away. Sadness and guilt remained, and he knew he would never
be as he was before the deaths of Las
Vegas and Sinpo, but now there were a million hopeful
things to do. He was anxious to begin.