“Look at this,” said David, rising to his feet. “It was hidden under a false bottom in his ruck sack.” He held up a small electronic device about the size of a deck of cards. “What is it?”
“Let me see it,” said Alton. David passed it to him.
Alton turned it over in his hands. Smooth, black plastic obscured the object’s function.
“We’ll need to get the tech guys to take a look,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t recognize it.”
“Maybe that’s a good sign,” said Mallory. “It sure looks like he was trying to keep it a secret. If we find out what that secret is, we might be a step closer to discovering the North’s end game.”
“Agreed,” said Alton. “Let’s get this back to the NIS lab.” He took a final glance at the spy’s unmoving body.
David broke the silence. “One less enemy.”
“Yeah,” said Alton, “but it sucks that he’s dead. He could have answered so many questions. Now we have a problem: as far as uncovering North Korea’s plot is concerned, we’re back to square one. And since the Olchin diversion has already been sprung, the real attack must be imminent—if it hasn’t started already.”
CHAPTER 38
As O’Neil entered the conference room in Seoul’s NIS headquarters building, Alton looked up from the laptop resting on a long, glossy table.
“How’s Silva?” asked Alton.
“Grumpy.”
Alton grinned. “Guess that means she’s improving.”
“Yeah. She said she wanted to get back with the team…wasn’t doing any good hunkered down in a hospital bed…yada yada yada.”
“How long ‘til she’s back in action?”
O’Neil rubbed his chin. “Not for a while yet. The docs say she’s okay for desk duty but not much else. Her wounds were deep and still healing—stitches all the way down to her muscles. If she does anything too strenuous, she could pull out the stitches and bleed out.”
“I hate being short a team member,” said Alton, “but we can’t bring her back into field work…not yet. But there may be something she can help us with…” His eyes unfocused as an idea percolated in his mind.
David plodded into the room. After pouring a cup of black coffee, he fell into the chair next to Alton and rubbed his eyes.
“You okay?” asked Mallory from across the table.
“Yeah.” He sighed. “Is it just me, or does it feel like eight o’clock comes earlier every day?”
“Yeah,” said Alton with a chuckle. He glanced around the conference table at the assembled team. “Now that everyone’s here, let’s get started. First order of business is discussing this.” He held up the electronic device recovered from Nang’s corpse the previous day.
“Did General Zheng’s tech guys figure out what it is?” asked Camron.
Alton turned the device over in his hand. “Yeah—a decryption tool. But not a normal one. This is state-of-the-art. There’s no way the North Koreans could have developed this.”
“So they bought it from someone else?” asked Mallory.
“Yep. China, if I had to guess.”
“I wonder…” said Camron. “Is China technologically capable of pulling that off? Could they really design a decryption product so advanced that a world-class cryptologist like you wouldn’t recognize it?”
“They don’t have to design it,” said Alton. “They just have to manufacture it—which they already do for just about every other electronic product in the world. Once the design specs are in-house with a Chinese company,” he added with a shrug, “the final products can end up anywhere, including Nang’s pocket.”
“This is bad news,” said David. “Our entire military communications network is more at risk than we realized.”
General Zheng swept into the room with his aide in tow. He extended a hand. “Agent Blackwell, good to see you.”
Alton completed the handshake and nodded. “General.”
Zheng lowered himself into a chair at the end of the table and eyed Alton for a moment. “I have to say, I’m impressed. My forensic technicians confirmed it. The man we knew as Nang was, in fact, not Nang. He was a North Korean plant.”
Chegal shook his head. “I can hardly believe it. How is this possible?”
Alton ran a hand through his hair. “My best guess is that when the real Nang left his assignment at the DMZ to report here, North Korean double agents intercepted him and replaced him with a substitute. The false Nang made sure to grab all the real one’s credentials and swap out the photos.”
General Zheng nodded his agreement.
“What’s become of the real Nang?” asked Chegal.
“Who knows?” said Alton, stretching out his bad leg in an attempt to alleviate a dull ache brought on by the previous days’ activity. “If I had to guess, I’d say someone along the border will discover his body when the snow melts.”
“I am saddened at the loss of an experienced soldier,” said Zheng. “But I suppose congratulations are in order, Mr. Blackwell, for cracking this case.”
“Thank you, sir, but we’re not out of the woods yet.”
“What do you mean?”
“We have reason to believe the attack on the Olchin reactor was a feint to draw in whatever South Korean defenses remained so another North Korean attack—their true objective—can begin.”
The general assumed a patient look, the kind a principal bestows on a wayward pupil. “Mr. Blackwell…you’ve done well. You’ve stopped an attack on a nuclear power plant and uncovered the false Nang. You don’t have to prove your competence anymore.”
“Sir, this isn’t about competence. This is about understanding the true North Korean end game…and stopping it.”
“Acquiring a nuclear arsenal isn’t end game enough?”
“As I mentioned on the phone last night, seasoned troops wouldn’t pull back as quickly as those enemy soldiers did. And a North Korean agent wouldn’t have put us on the trail of the power-plant attack at every turn, not if that was his true target. The Olchin attack had to be intended to throw us off the scent of their true objective.”
“I don’t know…” said Zheng, raising a skeptical eyebrow. His expression changed to one of resolution. “I tell you what, I’ll give you forty-eight hours to prove your theory. Sergeant Chegal and Corporal Ru will report to you during this interval. After that, I’m returning my soldiers to their regular duties and sending your NSA team home.”
“No problem, sir. The power-plant attack only works as a decoy if the true attack is set in motion at the same time. If we haven’t discovered North Korea’s true objective within your forty-eight hour window, it’ll be too late.”
Fifteen minutes later, the joint team reconvened after seeing the general out of the conference room and grabbing a quick breakfast from the building’s canteen.
Mallory took a sip of coffee and set down her cup. “It’s good we caught the bogus Nang, but now what? How do we uncover North Korea’s true objective?”
“Under the North’s protocol,” said Camron, “Nang would have had orders to check in with his handlers periodically.”
Alton drummed his fingers on the table, deep in thought. “And once the time for the next check-in occurs and he doesn’t report in, the North is sure to accelerate their plans even more. And we’ll lose the ability to monitor their communications.”
“Why?” asked O’Neil.
“If I’m the North, and I just learned my mole has been discovered, the first possibility I’d consider would be a communications leak. We have to assume they’ll try to plug that leak immediately…and deluge their comm channels with false information.”
“In other words,” said Mallory, “once they discover Nang is missing, all their subsequent communications will be meant to confuse us.”
“When do you think will that be?” asked David.
“No idea,” said Alton, “so we’d better get busy.”
CHAPTER 39
Inside the Warren, Com
mander Yun and Agent Kam, his right-hand man, occupied themselves reviewing intercepted South Korean communications.
Yun grimaced. The Southerners’ net around his fleeing Wave One forces was rapidly closing.
Footsteps approached from behind. Both men swiveled in their chairs.
Sure enough, Dr. Tong stood with hands on hips. “What word from Wave Two?”
“Nothing yet.” Both men rose out of respect for the middle-aged man.
The scientist furrowed his eyebrows. “No word? I thought—”
“No need to worry, Doctor,” interjected Yun before the man could work himself into a lather. “Wave Two isn’t scheduled to check in for another two hours. They have to stay under the forest canopy, well off the main roads, to avoid detection from either ground troops or satellites. Wave One, on the other hand, should be checking in any time now.”
“Any time now? Why don’t you call them?”
Yun suppressed the indignity of a civilian trying to school him on the proper way to conduct a military operation. “What would happen if they’re near enemy troops? My call might induce a soldier to speak up without thinking. Or what if Wave One is simply in transit to the next checkpoint? If they heard my signal over the engine noise, I’d force the entire convoy to stop so the mission commander could speak with me.”
Tong’s balloon deflated just a bit. “Yes…I see. We must let the military men conduct their mission without interruption.”
Including me. Yun forced a smile. “Exactly.”
“What about our agent in the South?” asked Tong, a bit more tentatively this time.
“We never reach out to him—too risky. He’s not due to check in until tonight.” Yun checked his watch. “Not for another fourteen hours.”
An awkward silence ensured.
“Would you like to join us for the Wave Two check-in?” asked Yun.
“Yes,” replied Tong. “I’ll be back in two hours.” Without further conversation, he turned on his heel and left.
Kam leaned in and lowered his voice. “How can you let him talk to you like that? I would have—”
Yun held up a placating palm. “My ego is not what’s important—the mission is. Remember that, my friend.”
Kam watched Tong’s receding figure. “I’m surprised he wasn’t more interested in Wave One. He didn’t even ask if they had the uranium.”
Yun squared himself to face his younger colleague. “It’s time you know.”
“Know what?”
How does a person answer that question?
Outside, the wind had abated. The blizzard’s roar had diminished to the occasional creak and groan of aluminum.
Yun spoke at last. “Wave One’s mission was a diversion.”
Kam’s utter astonishment would have been comical under different circumstances. He stood motionless with a perplexed expression and slightly cocked head, looking for all the world like a confounded puppy. “Wait…a diversion from what? Isn’t our primary mission collecting weapons-grade nuclear materials?”
“No.” Yun lowered himself back into his chair and motioned for Kam to do the same. “Wave Two is our primary mission.”
“Attacking Yanggu? Why would we make a country village like that our primary focus?”
“I’ll let Dr. Tong explain that later. It’s his specialty. But I can tell you that we did have a mission at Olchin, just not the one you thought.”
Kam shook his head. “I’m confused.”
“Most people, including you, were told that our primary mission would be extracting uranium from the Olchin plant.” He sighed. “We had to do this to protect the secrecy of the true objective, the one involving Yanggu. If word got out…”
Kam nodded in a resigned fashion. He understood the need for secrecy, even from himself.
Yun continued. “The Olchin objective involved planting a contaminant satchel in the cooling pond and uploading a virus into the plant’s mainframes.”
“Why do any of that if the attack is just a diversion? Why not launch an ‘attack,’” here he held up two sets of fingers in imaginary quotes, “and have the Olchin forces heroically fight them off?”
“Diversion was the primary goal but not the only one. We hoped to disable the plant.”
“That’s what the contaminant and computer virus were for?” asked Kam.
“Yes. The computer virus overrode any commands involving the control rods.”
Kam scratched his head. “Control rods?”
“They keep the nuclear fuel from overheating. When the uranium gets too hot, you lower the control rod over the uranium pellets, and the nuclear reaction slows down. When you want it hotter, you raise the rods, and the reaction picks up.”
“The virus keeps the rods raised, right?”
“Exactly!” said Yun. “Eventually, the uranium and the rods overheat into a pile of slag. And the beauty of this particular virus is that it sends false signals to the reactor’s monitoring station in the control room. As far as the technician is concerned, everything is A-Okay.”
Kam nodded. “I like it. But won’t they eventually figure out that the reactor is getting too hot?”
“Yes, but that’s where the satchels come in. Lieutenant Pi’s men dumped thirty kilos of an ionized graphite-and-acid compound into the cooling pond. Because it’s ionized, this stuff sticks to the metal tips of the cooling pond’s thermometers. Once attached, the graphite acts as a thermal shield, keeping the thermometers from registering how much the temperature is rising. It’s not perfect, but it’ll hide the rising temperature long enough.”
Eyebrows knotted together, Kam shifted in his seat. “Long enough for what?”
“Don’t worry. We won’t have another Chernobyl just across the border. The Southerners will detect the rising temperatures eventually, but not before the reactor has been damaged beyond repair. It turns out a nuclear power plant is a high-precision machine; it doesn’t take much to ruin it.”
Kam shook his head. “And all this time, I’ve been so focused on the Olchin mission.…”
The communications panel crackled to life. “Commander Yun, this is Lieutenant Pi. Do you copy?”
The Commander scurried over to the comm panel and threw a switch. “Yun here. Report.”
The strain in the soldier’s voice was unmistakable. “We’ve covered fifty klicks since the last check-in.” He paused to catch his breath. “The Olchin guards continue to pursue. Lost Yi…Kangjon…Namgung. And Maeng is wounded…can barely stay on his bike. Can’t talk long or they’ll catch up.” The man issued his statements in a voice a good octave higher than normal.
“Easy, Lieutenant. Gather your thoughts. You still have men left, and they need your leadership.”
“Yes, sir.”
“The hardest part—your task at the power plant—is over. Let’s get you out of there, and your mission will be complete.”
“Agreed. Sir, can you send reinforcements?”
“Negative, Lieutenant. There’s no time. And even if there were, the American satellites would use the reinforcements’ direction to deduce your course. It would lead their soldiers right to you.”
“With all due respect, sir, the soldiers have already been led to us. That’s why we need help fighting them off.”
No point in telling the man that the option of sending additional troops into South Korean to support Wave One had been ruled out since the inception of this project. Yun grasped the comm panel’s large microphone. “Focus, Lieutenant. You know reinforcements won’t arrive in time to help. Let’s come up with a realistic plan.”
“Yes, sir.” Was that a hint of relief? The knowledge that someone besides himself would help him craft a plan to flee enemy territory?
“Your best chance of survival lies with evasion and escape,” said Yun. “Now that your team is smaller, you’ll have a better chance pulling that off. Let me ask you…can you proceed on alpha route as planned?”
“Negative, sir. It skirts too close to highway thirt
y-one. Any troops using that highway to pursue us could spot us.”
“I see. So we execute our contingency. Head north by northeast, away from the major arteries. Stay in forest cover as much as possible. Use strict radio silence. We don’t want the Southerners triangulating your position.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Once you’re a klick or two past Inje, change your course to a northwest heading. That will bring you back to the tunnel while avoiding the Seoraksan Pass.”
“Yes, sir.” No question now—the panic in Pi’s voice was receding.
“Lieutenant, remember. You and your men have trained for this mission for months. Keep your eyes open and your ass down, and you’ll make it home.”
“Yes, sir. Pi out.”
Yun switched off the encrypted radio and sat back. When he had first proposed this project, the politicians had scoffed at his reference to Wave One as a suicide mission, instead calling for universal success. It appeared Yun’s assessment would, unfortunately, prove to be correct. But really, what did the politicos know about combat? Their perceptions of reality had been clouded by years of propaganda, whereas Yun’s had been tempered with the reality of lost comrades and failed missions.
Now to wait.
In two hours, he would make contact with Wave Two. Only then would he discover whether the mission’s true objective remained on course.
CHAPTER 40
Alton ignored the growing discomfort in his bad leg, unwilling to break his focus from the multitude of North Korean transmissions. Who knew how many hours until the enemy’s end game began to play out—if it hadn’t started already?
He worked furiously to decode the avalanche of messages, then passed most off to Camron to review. If anyone could deduce a subtle reference in the North’s over-the-top propaganda, it would be the Korean specialist.
“Alton!” said Mallory. Why had she raised her voice?
“Sorry,” she said to someone over Alton’s shoulder. “When he gets going on something, it’s hard to break through to him.”
“No worries.”
When the Killing Starts (The Blackwell Files Book 8) Page 12