Battle Born (20 page)

Secretary of Defense Chastain was thunderstruck. He examined the photographs, scanned the translations of the field agents’ reports and observations. “This is . . . this is incredible,” he stammered. “I had no idea North Korea had so many WMDs in their possession.”

“All the same, General, even if we verify all this evidence, we can’t rush into anything,” Vice President Whiting said. “We need to confront the North in a global forum, show the world the evidence, and gauge the reaction of China, Russia, and the other Asian powers. There may be a way we can defuse this thing peacefully.”

“This will also give us a chance to start organizing our own forces,” Secretary Chastain said worriedly. “If you start a war now, with a lot of our forces ready to participate only in an exercise, we’ll be scrambling to respond if a general war breaks out. If we move forces
into the region slowly and gradually, we can have a sizable force in place and ready to prevent the conflict from spreading and to give you maximum assistance—and we won’t look like we’re itching for a fight.”

As the translator finished, it was obvious that General Kim didn’t like what he heard. As the translation progressed, he had lowered his head so that his emotions were concealed.

“I promise you, General Kim, Minister Kang,” the President said, “that I will use all the forces in our arsenal to protect and defend the Republic of Korea. But an attack against the North is out of the question. The risk of China entering the conflict and retaliating with special weapons is too great. They’ve already proved their willingness to use them outside their borders. I think they would use them against anyone who dared stage a preemptive attack on North Korea.”

General Kim spoke again, and the translator said, “The general has asked Minister Kang to explain about our special forces apparatus, already in place.”

“What special forces apparatus?” the President asked.

“I have not been authorized to divulge this,” Minister Kang explained nervously. But General Kim barked at him in Korean, which everyone guessed meant, “Go ahead, damn you, tell them.” Kang swallowed hard and went on, “The general speaks of our newly formed Reconnaissance and Operations Department. It is a mirror group to North Korea’s Reconnaissance Bureau of the General Staff. It is composed of Regular Army soldiers and elite special operations forces, trained”—he swallowed hard again—“trained by Russian intelligence officers.”

“
Russians
!” Chastain exclaimed. “You have a clandestine military organization trained by
Russians?
”

“Why in the world would you do that?” Vice President
Whiting asked incredulously. The President was silent; the appearance of the two famous silver locks of hair curling across his forehead was the only sign of his anger and concern. “What makes you think the Russians aren’t passing along information on this group to the North Koreans?”

“Because we pay them far more than the North Koreans could ever possibly hope to,” Kang replied matter-of-factly. “The Russians gave North Korea billions of rubles’ worth of training, equipment, and expertise in setting up their infiltration, sabotage, subversion, and terrorist network, and they were given nothing in return. We now get even better assistance from the Russians, and they receive millions of dollars’ worth of aid in return.”

“We . . . we knew nothing about this,” Vice President Whiting exclaimed. “This should have been approved by us in advance, Minister Kang. This could compromise all of America’s intelligence operations in Asia—perhaps even all over the world.”

“We have also used our new sources and agents to back-check and cross-check the North Korean government,” Kang responded. “I assure you, no American or allied intelligence sources or methods have been compromised. No information on the Reconnaissance and Operations Department exists in North Korea . . . or China.”

“China?” Chastain asked. “You’ve infiltrated China too?”

“At the highest levels, civilian and military,” Kang said. “We know the exact disposition of Chinese military forces within a thousand miles of the Korean peninsula, and we know exactly the chain of command, communications routing, codes, and procedures for relaying orders from Beijing to the field units. We can
shut down the Chinese command and control system and all links to North Korea in a matter of minutes.”

Kang turned to President Martindale, true excitement building on his face. “Sir, we have operatives spread throughout North Korea and China, in the most sensitive and valuable locations. Over the past several months, they have created a vast network of informants, activists, propagandists, and agents in every level of society, government, the universities, and the military. It is not merely meant to destroy and kill, although we can do this if we wished. It is primarily meant to reassure our North Korean brothers that we are ready to help them unify the peninsula and the Korean people.

“What we have determined is that the people of North Korea are with us,” Kang went on. “The revolution is growing. It is not just a political revolution, but an ideological, cultural, and religious revolution as well. It is repressed, of course, because of the oppressive Communist regime, but as in the former Communist East Germany and Russia, it is alive and spreading. All it needs is a spark. That spark is the Republic of Korea, and the time to ignite it is
now
.”

“This is incredible, absolutely astounding,” Chastain said. “It’ll take time to assess this extraordinary news . . .”

“Time is a luxury we cannot afford, Mr. Secretary,” said Kang. “The North can launch a devastating attack at any moment.”

“I’m sorry, Minister, but we can’t afford to act rashly,” the President replied. As the interpreter translated for General Kim, it was obvious the Korean commander was growing angrier by the second. Martindale went on, “We need to analyze the information from your Reconnaissance and Operations Department, verify it independently, discuss it here in Washington, formulate
a plan, then present it to our congressional leaders for funding and approval.” General Kim barked something in Korean at Kang, then glared at him impatiently. Kang kept his eyes on Martindale, not reacting; but it was obvious that the two Koreans were not receptive. “You have something on your mind, Minister Kang,” the President said warily. “Let’s hear it.”

“We have, as you say, placed all our cards on the table, sir,” Minister Kang said. “I understand your concerns and your desire to study and discuss this information. We do not wish to inconvenience you any longer with our presence. I thank you for your time and attention. I would be happy to convey your concern and thoughts to my government.”

“We would like to hear what General Kim has to say, Minister,” Martindale said stonily.

Kim shook his head sharply. Kang seemed relieved. “The general seems to have nothing more to add, Mr. President. Therefore, I thank you again for—”

“Hold on a minute, Mr. Minister,” the President said. Addressing Kim directly, he said, “If you have something on your mind, General, now’s the time to say it.”

Kang got up. “Thank you for your hospitality, sir.”

Suddenly, Kim exploded. He shot to his feet, firing words at Martindale, at Chastain, at Kang. Kang shouted something in return, but Kim would not be stopped.

“What did they say? Translate!” the President ordered.

“General Kim says that you have become too timid in the face of the Chinese,” the interpreter said. “He says that you are too concerned with your image and your reelection to risk it all by defending democratic Korea’s peace and freedom. He says you,” turning his head to Chastain, “counsel caution and ‘wait and see’
in safety while free Koreans worry about a nuclear holocaust. And he says that Minister Kang has not the courage to tell the Americans that if they will not help us, we will do what we must to protect our homeland. Minister Kang ordered the general to be silent or he will see to it that he is relieved of duty. The general says he will lead his forces to victory over the Communists whether or not he gets any help from the weakling Americans.”

The angry voices had penetrated outside the Oval Office, and at that moment Secret Service guards burst inside, automatic pistols leveled. Two plainclothes officers reached for the President, ready to shield him with their bodies. “No!” he shouted. “Wait!”

Kang shouted something at Kim, but Kim was already headed for the open door. More plainclothes and uniformed guards were ready to tackle him. “Let him go,” the President ordered. He turned to Kang. “Minister Kang, I want to talk with President Kwon immediately. If you’re considering war with North Korea, you must wait until I have had a chance to talk with him.”

“I assure you, Mr. President, we are not contemplating war with the North,” Kang said. “Many in my government are gravely concerned, but we agree that the best hope we have is calling the world community’s attention to the North’s aggression, backed up with the power and influence of the United States of America. But we must have assurances that America will support my country in our efforts.”

“I’ll tell President Kwon that he will always have the full protection and support of the United States,” Martindale said. “But listen carefully: we must not be blind-sided or railroaded into war because some hotheads in your government like General Kim think they can ignore the Chinese and can whip the North Koreans into submission overnight. We’ll fight by your side, but we
want this to be a partnership. I can’t sell it to the American people any other way.”

Kang looked deeply hurt at that, hurt that the President had to “sell” the idea of protecting South Korea to the American people. His face was grim as he said, “I see, Mr. President.” He bowed deeply. “I am very sorry to have disturbed you and disrupted the peace of this eminent place. I personally apologize and take full responsibility for General Kim’s behavior. If you will excuse me.” And with that he left, neither looking up nor shaking hands.

Martindale, Whiting, Chastain, and Hale looked at one another as if in a daze. “What the hell was
that?
” Chastain asked incredulously.

“Let me hear it, folks—are the South Koreans planning anything?” the President asked. “Will they actually attack these targets?”

“I’d want to get some briefings from Central Intelligence,” Chastain offered, “but offhand, I’d say the Korean government is certainly leaning toward taking some kind of action. Kim seemed ready to charge across the DMZ by himself right this minute.”

“There is no way on God’s green earth that President Kwon can actually believe he could successfully stage an attack against North Korea unless we were totally behind him and ready to step in,” Vice President Whiting said. “He knows he wouldn’t stand a chance. North Korea’s military outnumbers his forces three to one. And China must have more cooks than Kwon has troops in his entire military. I think this incident with the nukes just spooked them. Kim’s was the voice of the hotheads wanting revenge—Kang’s was the voice of moderation. I don’t see a war happening.”

“Don’t guess, Mr. President,” Jerrod Hale said. “Call President Kwon. Ask him point-blank. Tell him how you feel. If you find he wants war, tell him to wait
and suggest a peaceful alternative. If he still cares about one.”

At that moment, Joint Chiefs of Staff Chairman Admiral George Balboa and Director of Central Intelligence Robert Plank entered the Oval Office. “That looked like South Korea’s foreign minister leaving the White House,” Plank said. “Was he here?”

“He was here—and he dropped a bombshell on us,” the President said, returning to his desk. “I want a full rundown of the military situation on the Korean peninsula, including a complete accounting of all of South Korea’s forces, and I needed it an hour ago.” Then he picked up the phone, called the White House Communications Center, and ordered a call placed to President Kwon Ki-chae of South Korea.

111TH BOMB SQUADRON RAMP,
RENO-TAHOE INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT,
RENO, NEVADA
TWO DAYS LATER

I
mpressive as hell, Muck,” said Dave Luger. “That’s it in a nutshell. Very damned impressive.”

Patrick McLanahan took a sip of coffee and raised an eyebrow in surprise as he sat in the back of a large blue StepVan, used by his evaluation team as their mobile headquarters. It was a couple of hours before dawn, right at the twelve-hour safety-of-flight crew rest time limit prescribed by regulation for all fliers. It was damned early, much too early, but Patrick was determined not to let his team leaders—who certainly had had much longer days than he—see how tired he was.

With him inside the van were Patrick’s old friend and partner Lieutenant Colonel David Luger, acting as chief of the maintenance and weapons inspection team; Lieutenant Colonel Hal Briggs, chief of the security and administrative inspection team; and Lieutenant Colonel Nancy Cheshire, chief of the command and control and services inspection team. They were parked on the Air National Guard ramp, just outside the entry control point of the long aircraft parking ramp. The line of sleek, deadly B-1B bombers, illuminated in the harsh yellow glow of overhead “ball park” lights, filled the place with excitement. Maintenance vehicles and crews
moved around purposefully. To this unit, this was no exercise—it was the real thing. Aces High was going to war, and every man and woman in the small unit, from the airman basic cook in the in-flight kitchen to the commander, knew it.

“All of the planes came up with only minor squawks,” Luger went on. Dave Luger was a tall, lanky Texan, a former B-52 navigator who now worked as chief project engineer under Patrick McLanahan at the supersecret Dreamland research facility. “Seven bombers fully configured and ready to fly. The biggest hitch was getting weapons from the Navy depot at Creashawn, but once they showed up, they uploaded them without any deficiencies.”

“None?” Patrick asked incredulously.

“None,” Dave assured him. “Seven B-1s with mixed payloads—twenty-eight Mark 82 AIRs in the forward bay, a rotary launcher with eight GBU-32 JDAMs in the mid bay, and ten CBU-87s in the aft bay—all went up on time without a major glitch. I’m going to have to nitpick to find something to ding ’em on.