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Gambit

Page 5

by Karna Small Bodman


  “All right. Keep focusing on the groups and the weapons. And, Iggy, see if your people can prod those defense contractors to get their asses in gear on adapting those military technologies and work with Frank on the timetable.”

  Jay then looked over at the secretary of transportation. “And Trent, I want you to ride herd on the FAA and NTSB to get results from those crash sites. We need a thorough analysis, and I mean right now.” Trenton nodded. The vice president continued, “And do you think you can tamp down the controllers for a while?”

  “I’ll do my best, sir.”

  “Good. Finally, I hear the senator from Vermont is about to call for hearings on the crash investigations and everything else we’re doing,” Jay said. “As if we needed that kind of distraction.”

  “Yeah. It’ll probably be a group grope in terms of looking for somebody to take the fall for all of this.” Iggy remarked. “It sounds like your likely opponent wants to turn this crisis into a political circus.”

  “And if I fall off my high horse,” Jay said with a wry look, “I’m sure the senator will have a camera crew on hand to record the moment.”

  “They won’t need any prodding,” Iggy said. “The press always shoots the wounded.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA

  Lieutenant Colonel Hunt Daniels cradled a large cup of coffee in his hands as his guest sipped tea and looked nervously around the comfortably appointed living room. They were meeting in the private residence of the U.S. ambassador to South Korea, a house built in the traditional Korean style that stretched outward in long, clean lines but had a roofline that curved up at the sides.

  It was rare to hold a private meeting in a place usually reserved for diplomatic dinner parties and family gatherings. But Hunt had pressed the ambassador to invite this important scientist to a place where he could feel absolutely safe. And safety was a top priority right now.

  “Don’t worry, sir, everyone in this household has been cleared by our security forces. You can relax here.”

  The older gentleman took another sip of his tea and settled back in his chair. He glanced over at the interpreter who nodded reassuringly. “I am sure you are right, Col. Daniels. It’s just that I fear for my life, for my family, for all of us who have managed to escape from Pyongyang.”

  “We understand completely. And let me assure you that we will do everything in our power to maintain a safe place for you to live, and to work. For as you have said before, you want to continue your work on nuclear research for the benefit of mankind. Not the north.”

  “What I meant was,” the gentleman reiterated, “I am willing to help this government in exchange for a promise of safety and a promise that they will work to disarm the maniac who rules my home. I have no wish to work on weapons systems that may be trained on innocent people. Ours especially have suffered enough. They are weak and starving while the government is strong and eating well. They made us work in the tunnels built deep into the ground where their weapons are stored. Yes, they fed us to keep us going, but the rest have nothing. In fact, they lowered the height limit for soldiers to four feet eleven inches. The people are so malnourished, they cannot grow.”

  “We know,” Hunt said, his deep blue eyes focused on his guest. “But what’s important now is for us to learn as much as we can about their systems, their continued miniaturizing nuclear warheads as well as new missile delivery systems and who is buying them.”

  “You have seen their tests of the Taepodongs as well as others,” the man replied. “Now there is so much more. I never thought I would get out. When the South Korean agents put me on that raft and floated me down the river to safety, it was a miracle. But I came with nothing on my back, only what’s in my head.”

  Hunt leaned his six foot two inch frame forward and said, “That’s exactly what we’re interested in. We know that North Korea has helped both Pakistan and Iran with missile technology, but we also need to know what they are exchanging with China and other countries. We have now had three attacks in the United States, attacks on our commercial airplanes. Hundreds of innocent people have been killed, and in addition to my work here to investigate nuclear proliferation, I’ve been asked to follow every lead to discover who might be responsible for these crimes. Any help, any thoughts you may have about ground-to-air or even air-to-air missiles would be most helpful.”

  “I understand your concern. My work was focused on nuclear warheads, but I do know that some of my colleagues were exchanging other technology with China and Russia.”

  “What kind of technology?”

  “Some of it involved smaller missiles, I believe. But I have no details. On my nuclear issues, it was work I was forced to do, and now I must atone for my contribution to their madness,” he said lowering eyes.

  Hunt motioned to a steward to pour some more tea and then said reassuringly, “We understand the pressures you were under. We know about the threats, the intimidation. But now you are free, and we’re going to do everything we can to keep it that way.”

  “Will you stay here and help me, Col. Daniels?” the scientist implored.

  “I’m afraid I’m being recalled to the United States to work on our own problems.”

  “The airline attacks?”

  “Yes. But I’ve been working with our staff here as well as the president’s staff at the Blue House to ensure your safety. They have set up a safe house for you in the Itaewon shopping district. It is a busy area. Not a place where anyone would look to find a famous nuclear scientist. You will blend in well and be surrounded by people who care about you. So do not worry.”

  Hunt reached in his pocket and pulled out a small cell phone. “Here. We want you to keep this.”

  The man inspected the device. “Can I keep in touch with you this way?”

  “Yes. We have this number, and here is a list of contacts. Someone will come to you if you need anything. And when it is time for another meeting, they will call you on this phone.”

  The scientist stared at the small cell. “Very good., This is good. I just hope their agents cannot listen in.”

  “Don’t worry. I doubt if they can.”

  They finished their discussion and Hunt ushered the scientist out to a waiting car. He handed him a satchel filled with new clothes, shoes and toiletries. The gentleman unzipped the top, glanced inside and a broad smile covered his face. “I thank you, Col. Daniels. I will wait for a call to meet with your successor. And I wish you a safe flight back home to America.”

  “Do you think that guy can really help us out?” the ambassador asked Hunt as they sat down to dinner a few hours later.

  “Oh yeah. That was quite a coup when those South Korean agents spirited him out of Pyongyang. I’ll bet that slimy dictator is pretty pissed off right about now.”

  “I’m sure you’re right. And this man seems especially bright. I really liked him. He’s smart, brave, dedicated. Don’t see too many of those coming south these days.”

  “Not for lack of trying, though.”

  “Yes, of course.” The ambassador finished his salad and the steward removed the plate from the right and served a large plate of lamb and rice pilaf from the left.

  “We’re sorry you have to go back to D.C.,” he said. “You’ve been invaluable to us here, interviewing this scientist and working with others who have escaped that regime. The trouble is, I fear for all of them here. The North Koreans who have been able to get away are usually followed by others who are bent on taking them back, or killing them instead. And not only Koreans, I’ve been quite worried about people on my staff and people like you. Word gets around about who’s working on what in this city, and that’s why I assigned that guard to stay with you 24/7.”

  “I know. I appreciate the body guard.” Hunt took a bite of his lamb and then checked his watch. “I think we’ve been able to accomplish quite a lot these past several weeks. We had a meeting with the defense minister’s top guys this morning to analyze the latest intell
igence on the threat of FOB’s from a number of different countries.”

  “You mean Fractional Orbital Bombardment?”

  “Yes. Then we talked about multiple independently targeted re-entry vehicles in the nose of a war-head. You know, if there are fifteen in there, they go out in all different directions,” Hunt said.

  The ambassador picked up his glass of wine and said with a wry smile, “You mean, MARVing their MIRVs?”

  Hunt chuckled. “Well, yes. I’d laugh about it if all of this new stuff weren’t so damned dangerous.”

  “I know. You’re right. But back to our new scientist, since you’re leaving in the morning, how about checking in, see if he’s settling in all right. What do you think?”

  “Good idea.” Hunt pulled out his cell phone, flipped it open and dialed a number.

  After several rings, a gruff voice answered. “You think you can steal our scientists?” the menacing voice announced. “You’re wrong. We’ve taken him back where he belongs and people like you will pay.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  SAN FRANCISCO

  A teenager with chunks of dark hair spiking up haphazardly just above his forehead signed for the two large packages and handed the pen back to the delivery man. He brought the boxes inside where two other men were lounging on a faded divan, picking at a plate of sushi and watching a soccer match on TV.

  “Got the latest,” he announced.

  “Open ’em up and see if they’re any better than the last ones,” the older man ordered. “And while you’re up, get me another can of Jolt.”

  The young man quickly complied, handing over the caffeine laden drink and started to open one of the boxes. He slashed the tape, pushed aside the packing materials and lifted out a long metal case. It occurred to him that it could have carried a couple of fishing rods rather than this particular cargo. Perhaps that’s what the delivery people thought when they transported these things.

  He opened the case and examined the long rods inside. “These look better,” he said, quickly fitting two pieces together.

  “Just make sure you can put those other heads on ’em while you’re playing around,” the boss commanded. “And when you’re sure they’re compatible, split everything up and ship them out. Just like the order says.”

  “Got it. But how do we know the others are going to do things right next time?”

  “We don’t know,” the older man said. “Those idiots already screwed up one operation in D.C. and another one at Logan. Let’s just hope Boston got the message.”

  “Boston was pretty good with the last plane, even if the right people weren’t on board,” the young man countered.

  “Yeah, but this new problem takes a little more imagination. It’s not a point-and-shoot deal any more. This time it’s gonna take more brains.”

  “Are you sure they should be targeting one of our own again?” the teenager asked.

  “Shut up, you fool. You know he’s a traitor.”

  “But …”

  The older man turned away from the TV set, pulled a small .22 from his pocket and aimed it at the young man. “I said shut up! Anyone wants to question our mission here answers to me. You got that?”

  “I only wondered … I mean, as I’ve said before, I don’t think….”

  “You think too much.” A single shot hit the young man in the chest. He staggered and grabbed the edge of the table, sending the metal case and all its parts crashing to the floor.

  “Little bastard never did fit with our program. We’re all part of a big plan here. We all agreed to help our country regain what is ours. Always has been ours. Nobody said it would be easy. But we agreed. And besides, they’re paying us a ton to do things right. I think that little shit has been in this country too long to understand what’s important.” He reached for the can, took a long pull and turned to the other man on the couch. “Get up and get rid of that sorry excuse for a countryman. We’ve got work to do.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THE WHITE HOUSE

  “Hunt, welcome back,” Austin Gage said, motioning to a small round table with four chairs off to the side in his expansive West Wing corner office. Rather than reserving the Situation Room for small sensitive meetings, the NSC advisor’s office was a good venue. It was right down the hall from the Oval Office and sported special glass windows that precluded any eavesdropping microwaves from snooping embassies with a direct line of sight to the building.

  “The vice president is going to join us,” Austin said. “He wants to hear about your time in South Korea, and then we’ve got a whole list of things to cover. I trust you had a good flight back?”

  Hunt was tired. He had been away for almost two months on a number of secret missions to try and negotiate safeguards for older nuclear weapons while he also investigated newer systems that seemed to be proliferating at the speed of a NASCAR race.

  He had been in remote places where he was never certain which were the good guys or bad guys. He had been shot at, nearly run over twice and finally had ended up being the hand-holder for that defector from North Korea. At least he had felt relatively safe in South Korea, even though it turned out he couldn’t protect that poor scientist. The ambassador had sent several of our agents to search for him. No luck with that operation. Either they must have quickly returned him north, or they simply eliminated him. What a tragic waste of a good man.

  Yesterday, Hunt had flown in a military plane from Seoul to Hawaii and then onto Andrews Air Force Base. As soon as they landed he had gone into his office in the OEOB to be greeted by stacks of memos and a safe filled with classified documents. He had scanned the latest ones about the terrorist attacks, but was far from feeling up-to-speed on anything.

  He had been relieved to hit the sack in his own home in Georgetown last night, not even caring if the maid hadn’t remembered to restock the cupboard with his favorite brand of coffee. At least he’d gotten a few good hours of shut-eye and then the best shower he’d had since leaving town. He always marveled at the water pressure in Washington. A lot of things were screwed up in this city, but a good shower wasn’t one of them.

  He ran his hand through his sandy blond hair and responded, “I’m fine, sir. Just need a little time to decompress and get through the latest intel, I guess.”

  He turned to see Jayson Keller stroll in, clad in a tailored grey suit and crisp white shirt with a red-striped tie. The man was a couple of inches shorter than Hunt, but his muscular build made him appear to be the most powerful man in the room. Hunt stood up to greet the vice president.

  “Morning, sir.”

  “Good to see you again, colonel.”

  The three men sat down at the round table and opened their leather notebooks. Each one had several pages of notes, and Austin began the meeting. “Hunt, give us a quick run-down of the situation in South Korea and whether you saw anything at all that could be connected to these airline attacks.”

  Hunt told them about the defection of the North Korean scientist who had been debriefed, but later captured, and how the government in Pyongyang was getting more brazen by the hour. He went on to summarize what he had learned about North Korea’s ballistic missile capabilities, and said he heard they may have been exchanging new technology for smaller missiles from other countries such as Iran.

  “With respect to their constant saber-rattling, or rather missile-rattling,” Hunt said, we know the Chinese keep objecting to our deployment of various missile defense system in South Korea and Japan. But I’d like to put a Decision Directive together recommending that DOD assign several of our Navy cruisers and destroyers to the area. Many of those ships are equipped with the Aegis missile defense system. They could patrol the Sea of Japan …”

  “And what? Try to shoot down the next missile North Korea decides to test? Austin asked, raising his eyebrows.

  “Precisely,” Hunt answered.

  “And what if we miss? It would be a humiliation and further embolden that crazy dictator.”


  “First, we wouldn’t announce our intentions in advance,” Hunt countered. “Second, if we miss, of course the world would know we sent up an interceptor. But our commanders could simply say we are testing some new systems to see how close we could come. And third, if we destroy it, North Korea would have to reassess their entire program and all the money they are spending on missiles that won’t be able to hit anybody. Or at least we’d be sowing tremendous doubt into their calculus.”

  “It’s true their economy is so dismal and their people are completely impoverished, except for the chosen ones who live and work in the capital for the government,” Austin said. “I heard that they’re now practically drafting dwarfs to serve in the military. As for their being the ones who are messing around with our commercial airplanes, what would be the point?”

  “Remember what the Lilliputians did to Gulliver?” The vice president muttered.

  Hunt shook his head. “Yeah, but still. I couldn’t pick up any intel connecting North Korea to those attacks. Besides, they’d have to know that if we ever figured out they were responsible, we’d flatten their capital.”

  “True,” Austin said. “And when you talk about a motive, I finally have the manifests here from the three planes that were downed. We’ve been going over these lists to see if there might be specific people who were the targets.”

  “Anything obvious?” Hunt asked.

  “A couple of interesting possibilities. The Spanish ambassador was on the first plane with several of his ministers. They were going to some festival, I believe.”

  “That could be al Qaeda,” Jay Keller suggested. “Remember what they did with those trains in Madrid some years ago?”

  “Yes. We’ve been looking at that. In fact, I had our director of European Affairs give me a paper on that whole history.” Austin pulled out a memo and pointed to a particular paragraph. “Interesting history if you’ll recall. Remember how that Muslim Army came across the Strait of Gibraltar from Northern Africa back in the 8th century? They fought a huge fight against the King of Spain. After a few battles, the Moors were running the place, from the coast to the Pyrenees until they were kicked out in the late 1400’s.”

 

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