by Mike Ramon
***
“That bit at the bottom,” the General said, “is an encoded timestamp. It was sent from General Ma to General Ling on the evening of February the fifteenth, approximately forty-two hours after the attack.”
David cleared his throat, and all eyes turned to him.
“I’m sorry, sir, but I see something called Dragon’s Breath mentioned twice in the report. What is it?”
“Dragon’s Breath is the result of nearly a decade of R&D by the Chinese military-government complex. It started as something called Project Dragonfire; at the time it was just a wild theory by a Chinese scientist--we only know him by a codename, Father Dragon--on the government payroll. The Chinese didn’t think it would ever amount to much, but they were willing to throw a couple bucks at it. Over time, and as Father Dragon’s research began to show interesting results, he was given more money, and he was able to assemble a pretty big team to work on Project Dragonfire. About a year ago there was a breakthrough, and the first--and we believe only--product of the project was created. A weapon. The Chinese call it Dragon’s Breath.”
“What kind of weapon is this?” David asked.
The General gestured to the aide with the laptop again, and a moment later the image on the screen changed. The people gathered around the table leaned forward; some of them squinted--none of them knew what they were looking at. All they saw was a dark object sitting on a table.
“As you can see this photograph is too dark and blurry to make out much of anything, but it’s the only image we have of Dragon’s Breath.”
“But what is it?” someone asked.
“We don’t have the faintest idea about how it actually works,” the General said, “But we know what it was built for. The purpose of Project Dragonfire was to create a device that had the potential to destroy the world.”
He said it so matter-of-factly that for a moment everyone just stared at him blankly, too bewildered to say anything.
“Come again?” David said, breaking the silence.
“For decades China has had its eye on Taiwan, which they consider part of the People’s Republic. The only thing that has stopped them from a full invasion of the island is their fear that the United States will enter the fray and actively assist in Taiwan’s defense. China, as you all know, is a nuclear power, but it appears that there were some in the government and military who thought that the threat of the nuclear annihilation of the U.S. was not a big enough deterrent to keep us out of the fight, especially since we have the power to destroy them the same way. So they concluded that they needed something bigger. They needed something like Dragon’s Breath. The ultimate threat: if you lift a finger against us, we will erase everything--every single thing--from existence.”
A few people laughed nervously; David did not.
“And you believe that they were able to actually create something like this?” he asked.
“We believe they did, yes,” the General answered. “They have another name for it--a less formal one: the Armageddon Machine.”
“They were really willing to pull the temple down around them just to take some land?” David pressed on.
“Maybe so; or maybe it was all a bluff. What we do know is that in the month prior to the attack on the Xining base, a general call had gone out calling up twenty percent of China’s military reserves--that’s about a hundred and sixty thousand men--and at the same time there was an unexplained buildup of forces along the eastern coast. We had their troop movements under constant surveillance. Then suddenly the buildup ceased without warning, followed immediately by movement away from the coast. The gathered forces then spread to the north, and to the interior of the country.”
“They created a machine that can destroy the whole world, and then they left the Keystone Kops in charge of guarding it?” David asked incredulously.
“They were arrogant; they’ve been that way for decades. Despite all the fearsome parades of troops, and the columns of tanks and SAM launchers put on display, the truth is that the Chinese are far behind us in many respects, such as simple organizational structure.”
“Kind of like the Soviets,” a man at the end of the table said, “We were so scared of them, and it turned out that their tanks were being held together with duct tape and Super Glue.”
“Something like that,” General Cromwell said.
“Wait a second,” a blond-haired man spoke up. “If Dragon’s Breath is missing, who the hell has it?”
“The answer to that question--and we have intel that leads us to believe that the Chinese have come to the same conclusion--is that the device was stolen by a rogue group within the DPRK, some of whom are members of the government and military.”
“DPRK,” David said. “North Korea?”
“Yes,” the General replied.
“And what is the nature of this so-called ‘rogue group’?”
Another gesture to the man with the laptop, and the image on the screen changed yet again. Now it showed a hierarchical tree diagram.
“This,” the General said, “is the hierarchy--as best as we can figure--of an organization within North Korea that calls itself Violet Dawn. They are a group of fanatics drawn together by a philosophy of Korean supremacy. Or, more accurately, North Koran supremacy. As I said before, its members include member of both the government and military of North Korea, as well as civilians. We’ve known of this group’s existence for about a year now, although we believe they’ve been around a lot longer than that. If they do have Dragon’s Breath, it’s a terrifying thought.”
“No shit,” the blond guy who spoke earlier blurted out.
General Cromwell threw the man a stony look.
“Forgive my crudeness, sir,” the man said with a sheepish look on his face.
The General went on:
“To call these guys ‘hardliners’ would be a massive understatement. They scare the crap out of the top brass in North Korea. In fact, about six months ago the government began trying to hunt these guys down, with little success. They managed to uncover a handful of Violet Dawn members, and arrested them. Intel tells us that those who were arrested refused to talk, even after thorough interrogation. They were all executed.”
The General directed everyone’s attention back to the screen.
“You’ll notice that the top bracket has the name Mamba in it. That’s who we think is quarterbacking this organization. All we have are codenames.”
David looked over the tree. He took note of some of the other codenames listed in brackets below Mamba: Cobra; Scorpion; Tarantula; Taipan; Black Widow; Adder. The name just under Mamba was Viper.
“As I’m sure you have noticed,” General Cromwell said, “the codenames are all names of creatures that are venomous--charming, wouldn’t you say? These are just the upper ranks; in all the membership of Violet Dawn may number in the thousands. They are very secretive, and they are very loyal.”
“And they are willing to end the world?” David asked.
The General paused for a moment.
“I hope not,” he finally said.
“What’s their angle?” David asked.
“A good question.”
Another gesture, another image on the screen. This image showed a map of the Korean Peninsula. The image zoomed in slowly, showing a closer view of the borderlands. There were markings of different kinds on the map, including red arrows sweeping in different directions, and X’s marking certain towns and villages.
“What you’re looking at, ladies and gentlemen, is a rough draft of a plan for invasion of the Republic of Korea by the DPRK; the exact date that this plan was drawn up is unknown, but we think that it was between three and five years ago.”
“They’re going to invade South Korea?” someone asked.
“They were going to invade” the General corrected. “Thankfully it appears that cooler, more pragmatic heads prevailed, and the plan was scrapped. They knew that we would never stand by and allow them to take South Korea. We
think that this incident--aborting the invasion--was one of the direct causes that led to the formation of Violet Dawn. The group’s ultimate goal is the invasion and subjugation of the South; their motto is ‘One Korea, One Rule’. These aren’t just cartoon bad guys, twirling their mustaches while plotting world domination--these are true believers, zealots. They really think they have some divine right to rule over the whole of the peninsula. They will probably use these plans as a road map, though they will likely have to make some changes to accommodate current conditions--as I said, these plans are several years old.”
“But blowing up the world--or whatever the hell this Dragon’s Breath does--wouldn’t get them South Korea,” David said. “They would be wiped out, too.”
“I agree it doesn’t make much sense,” the General said. “Our best guess at the moment is that they intend to use the device in the same manner as the Chinese intended--as a threat. They invade the South and warn us that if we step in they’ll use Dragon’s Breath.”
“Okay, but how are they going to stage an all-out invasion of South Korea?” David pressed. “These guys are outlawed in the North. As soon as they stick their heads out they’ll be chopped off.”
“There are still many facets of this situation that remain unclear to us,” the General said. “Maybe they intend to take power in a coup prior to the invasion. Or maybe they just intend to take control of a single battalion and cross the border, hoping that once the shooting has started, and it’s too late to go back, the government will go all in. We just don’t know.”
“Any idea of the exact location of Dragon’s Breath?” David inquired.
“No, not an exact location. We believe that the device is likely already inside the DPRK, and under heavy guard. This thing is Violet Dawn’s golden ticket, and they won’t give it up without a fight. They know all too well the dangers of lax security.”
General Cromwell motioned one last time, and the screen went blank; the section of wall rolled back down over the screen, and the lights came up.
“Most of you will be receiving these binders you see here,” General Cromwell said.
He motioned to three aides who were holding several blue binders each. They began handing these out; they all had Post-it notes stuck to them with the name of the person they were meant for.
“Your binders will contain a dossier giving you a rundown of all the information I’ve already told you, as well as instructions on what you’re each expected to do. That is all. This meeting is adjourned.”
The glass wall morphed again, once more becoming clear.
“David, you stay,” the General said.
Most of those in the room left with their binders, leaving General Cromwell, David Diehl, Agent Marquez and one aide alone in the room. The last person out--the man who had been working the laptop--shut the door quietly as he left. The General cleared his throat.
“Stinson...” the General said.
The aide--Stinson, evidently--brought out two more binders; these ones were black instead of blue. Stinson set one each in front of David and Agent Marquez. David flipped his open; Agent Marquez left hers untouched. David had a feeling that she already knew everything that she needed to know. He scanned the first page; it was a rundown of the information they had just gone over during the meeting.
“Congratulations, David,” the General said. “You are now an employee of the United States government.”
David looked up from the report he was reading.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s all been arranged. As of oh-eight hundred hours this morning you are Agent David Diehl of the NTRA.”
David laughed at the absurdity of it.
“Uh, no. I gave up government work years ago. You know that.”
“But you came here, didn’t you?”
“Well,” David said, “I wasn’t given much of a choice. You sent a couple men out to find me and tell me that there was a national emergency, and that you needed my help. What was I supposed to do--tell them good luck, and send them on their way?”
“This is a national emergency, David.”
“I don’t dispute that; but what can I possibly provide that someone else can’t?”
“Peace of mind,” the General replied.
“How so?”
“We’ve known each other a long time, David. I know that I can trust you absolutely. In a world of secrets and lies, that kind of trust is invaluable. Wouldn’t you agree?”
David sighed.
“Yeah,” he said.
“Good. You and Agent Marquez will be leaving immediately for the West Coast. You can review those papers on your way to the airport, and Agent Marquez can answer any questions you may have.”
“Jesus, you don’t waste time around here, do you?”
“We can’t afford to. Hopefully this will all be over quickly, and we can have a drink together, you and I. We can talk about old times.”
”I’d prefer to forget the old times, Hank; I’ve spent the last three years trying to do just that.”
“Then we’ll talk about the future,” the General said with a smile.
Agent Marquez stood, tucking her binder under her arm. She looked at her watch.
“Come on,” she said. “I wanted to be in the air no later than seven-fifteen, and we’re already running late.”
David followed her to the door.
“Where exactly are we headed?” he asked her.
“I’ll explain when we’re in the air.”
“David,” the General said.
David stopped in the doorway and turned back to face General Cromwell.
“Be careful.”
“I will, Hank. Could you do me favor though?”
“What is it?”
“Call me Agent Diehl.”
David hurried after Agent Marquez.
“Smartass,” General Cromwell said to the empty room.