Axis of Evil: Post Apocalyptic EMP Survival Fiction (The Lone Star Series Book 1)

by Bobby Akart

  “Gentlemen, how certain is your intelligence regarding this launch?” asked the president as she twirled a pen through her fingers. She continued to stare at the satellite feeds provided by the Pentagon, which focused on her carrier groups positioning themselves in the Sea of Japan and the missile launch site in Kusong. “This could either be a momentous occasion where our final attempts at diplomacy work, or it could be the start of world war three. Either way, I wanna be in the room when it happens.”

  Acton looked at their CIA chief. “Is the intel rock solid?”

  The longtime CIA director nodded. “Rock solid, sir, within a twenty-four-hour time period. Years of intelligence have brought us to the point where we can identify with relative certainty when the missile launches will take place. Because of weather patterns across that portion of North Korea, the launch must take place either today or tomorrow. It will be sunny and thirty-five degrees today and tomorrow, but after that, a cold front moves through, bringing plummeting temperatures, wind, and snow for days.”

  The president nodded and checked her watch. It was approaching six thirty in the evening in Washington, but eight o’clock the next morning in Kusong, North Korea, a thirteen-and-a-half-hour difference.

  President Harman had aged since entering the Oval Office following the death of President Billings. When she was tapped for the VP slot, she knew there was the possibility of his taking ill, or even dying. He was the oldest president ever elected to the office.

  As president, like her predecessors, she had to make decisions that would have a profound impact on the world. In many ways, the demands and pressures were more than any one human being could carry out, but the Constitution required the post be manned by only one person.

  The room remained quiet as they studied the grainy images from the satellite. The rocket stood upright, ready for launch. Occasionally, a vehicle would scurry across the open space surrounding the launchpad. To the west of the launch facility was the military base and the small town that serviced the soldiers who occupied the facility. Open fields stretched for nearly a mile to the east until a mountain range rose out of the valley. North of the missile launch site, the mountains were closer, allowing for a protective ring to be placed around the launch site in the event of a catastrophic test failure.

  President Harman let out a long breath and mumbled under her breath to her chief of staff, “This better work, Charles.”

  “It will, Madame President, and the world will be much better for it,” he replied. “When you and I first sat down and discussed the issues on our platter, the DPRK problem and Iran were numbers two and three behind our intent to help those Americans who’ve been left behind in our own country. In some respects, this could’ve been considered number one on our priority list.”

  “Because of the nuclear threat?” she asked.

  “Absolutely,” Acton replied. “Iran wanted them and so did North Korea. Now they’re working together to achieve nuclear parity with the second tier of nations like Pakistan and India.”

  President Harman looked at her watch again. Five minutes until launch time. “I’m also concerned about the advancements they’ve made in their delivery capabilities. With each test, they prove to the world their ICBMs can reach the U.S. mainland, Europe, or virtually any target they choose.”

  “Madame President,” said Acton reassuringly, “if you pull this off, believe me, the mullahs in Tehran will sit up and take notice. With your diplomatic maneuvering, we may have solved both problems at the same time.”

  The group sat in silence again, staring at the digital clock’s tick down to the fateful hour. As the clock struck 8:00 a.m. in Kusong, and the minutes started to tick past the appointed hour, the president grew nervous. She wanted to believe her pressure on the Chinese worked. There was little or no activity at this point. The missile sat alone, pointed upward toward the sky and the watchful eyes of the U.S. satellite.

  Today was not the day. Perhaps tomorrow.

  Chapter 43

  November 14

  Mountain above Missile Launch Site

  Kusong, North Korea

  Duncan and Park had reached the summit of the mountain ridge overlooking the Kusong Military base at four o’clock in the morning, allowing them three hours of restless sleep. The mountain ridge overlooking the launch test site was rocky. Their trek was made easier by following a mining road that traversed the face, connecting tunnels to a series of abandoned uranium mines. The sound of wolves howling in the distance discouraged the men from taking up residency in the mines for the night. An abandoned shaft made for a perfect den for the wolves.

  The sun began to rise just after seven and warmed Duncan’s face. He and Park had gathered twigs and crunchy grasses to incorporate into the ghillies provided to them. They had settled into a swale of soft dirt in between two large boulders that still retained some heat from the prior day’s sunshine. By avoiding a soft bed of grass or lichens, they prevented moisture from entering their suits and bodies. Dirt and rocks were the best insulators of heat.

  Park began to stir, and Duncan reminded him to keep his head down. In the darkness, with only the faint moonlight for them to get their bearings, the men ran the risk of positioning themselves within view of base activity in the valley below them.

  Duncan had spent many years growing up hiking throughout the desert southwest. He’d taken trips as a teen through Utah, Nevada and Colorado, where the mountainous terrain was very similar to North Korea’s. The climate reminded him somewhat of the Rockies as well. The famous 38th parallel, which formed the border between North and South Korea, split the United States in half as well, running from the Pacific Northwest, through northern Nevada, Utah and ultimately through West Virginia.

  Duncan peered over the rock outcropping that separated the two boulders. The view below was striking. He took in a panorama of prairie land, complete with tall grasses and the occasional pine tree. It was desolate except for one thing—an eighty-foot-tall intercontinental ballistic missile rose over the next ridge below him, which stood in stark contrast to the peaceful grasslands surrounding it.

  “Rise and shine, Comrade Park,” said Duncan jokingly.

  “Very funny, cowboy,” Park shot back as he made every effort to work out the kinks from sleeping on the uneven ground. He rose to his knees and shook his ghillie suit like a shaggy English sheepdog. Dust flew off and settled around him. Duncan immediately got the visual of Pigpen in the Charlie Brown cartoons.

  “We did a pretty good job of finding our way in the dark,” said Duncan. “The main base is to our right, tucked around the mountain. I can see the tip of the missile from here, but this is still too far away to see the observation area. We’re gonna have to make our way to the ridge below us.”

  Park moved forward to get a better view. “So weird, right? I mean, what’s wrong with this picture?”

  “The Hwasong-18 is wrong in every picture,” replied Duncan. “It’s their newest technology, a hybrid of their prior successes in the portable Hwasong-class of ICBMs with the larger nuclear warhead provided by the Taepodong. This missile can reach any point in the U.S. or Europe with ease.”

  “I wish we could take it out, too,” quipped Park.

  “It would take a lot of C-4 to topple it, but besides, they’d just build another one. They probably have a couple more in waiting.”

  Park shook his head in disgust. “Sadly, they’d rather build missiles than feed their people.”

  Duncan pulled back between the boulders and searched through his rucksack for a protein bar. He didn’t want to feel full as they made their way through the rock formations today.

  “I’m gonna trust the bosses on this one. You don’t just take out a despot like Kim Jong-un because you don’t like him. Clearly, the scumbag deserves to die, and I’m gonna deliver the bullet. I just hope they have a plan in place to keep the nukes from flying. Talkin’ a bunch of BS back in forth in the media is one thing. Intentionally instigating a nuclear war w
ould make zero sense.”

  “You’re still up for this, aren’t you?” asked Park.

  “Yeah, of course. I’m just sayin’ that I don’t want us to be responsible for world war three. Wars have been started on less provocation than this.”

  Park settled in and ate his breakfast MRE consisting of apple maple oatmeal warmed with a flameless ration heater. The packet contained thirteen hundred calories, which would provide him energy for the morning.

  “What’s the plan?” asked Park.

  Duncan took another look over the rock ledge. “It’s impossible to see anything from up here. There are no mining roads to assist us this time, so we’ll have to find our way down to the next ridge without being seen. As we move closer to the base, we’ve gotta move slowly and keep our heads down. I’m sure there are patrols that scan this ridge from time to time.”

  “First, we’ll establish our hide. Then we better think about how we’re gonna get the heck out of Dodge after the shot.”

  “I have an idea for that as well,” said Duncan. “Let’s move out.”

  Chapter 44

  November 14

  Mountain above Missile Launch Site

  Kusong, North Korea

  Working their way down the ridge in their ghillie suits was no small feat. Between the suit itself and the added layers of natural foliage, it was like rock-climbing while carrying a greenhouse. As they reached the valley below the tallest ridge, the base at Kusong came into full view. It was bustling with activity, no doubt making sure they’d pass inspection if Dear Leader requested one.

  “I’m glad they’re spending their time and attention on tidying up for tomorrow’s big day,” said Park as a truck raced across the concrete launch site in the opposite direction of their position.

  He pulled the spotting scope out of his rucksack and surveyed the grounds surrounding the missile. Other than the buildings on the outer perimeter of the base located to his right, there were no other structures except for the supposed location of the observation stand beneath a stand of pine trees below them.

  Duncan used his binoculars to study the area as well. The launchpad sat in a bowl between two mountain ridges before it opened up into a valley. The dual ridges gave them two possible vantage points. The ridge opposite their current location gave them a couple of advantages.

  “Park, if we could make our way to the ridge on the other side of the observation stage, I’d have a better shot without the pine trees negatively effecting the trajectory. Plus, there is the added benefit of our escape route.”

  “Okay, let’s talk about that first ’cause I really don’t plan on dying in North Korea.”

  Duncan settled in behind a rock and gestured for Park to do the same. He retrieved a map from his pack, along with the GPS device.

  Duncan laid out his plan. “Our extraction point is here, at Sinmi-do, to our southwest. The island is connected by this small land bridge, which allows vehicular traffic in and out to the fishing villages.”

  “Our calculations put the distance at twenty-one miles from our current position,” added Park. “If we move to the ridge on the other side of the test site, we cut off a mile or so.”

  “At a twenty-minute pace, that could make all the difference. Launch is scheduled for eight in the morning, we bug out along the south side of the test site instead of backtracking to our vehicle as planned.”

  Park leaned back and studied the map for a second. “You wanna abandon the truck? Whadya mean about twenty-minute pace?” he asked hesitantly.

  “That’s the first thing the patrol guards will be checking. Traffic will be snarled as vehicles are inspected, and I really don’t think our cover will withstand scrutiny. We’re better off walking to Sinmi-do.”

  “Twenty miles? With all of this gear?” asked Park with trepidation in his voice.

  “You can handle it. I’m only talking about carrying our weapons, binoculars, and the GPS. I’ll carry the rucksack with ammo and the rifle. At a steady pace, we can make it before dark.”

  “Duncan, seriously. That’s almost like walking a marathon. I walked eight miles once, ten years ago. There’s gotta be a better way.”

  Duncan thought for a moment. “The only other option is to identify and prepare our hide, then double back tonight to retrieve the truck. We can bring it to this mining town on the other side of the ridge at Anch’ang-dong. We’ll ditch it and then try to make our way through the roadblocks.”

  Park began to calculate the time associated with retrieving the truck. “I don’t think that’ll work either. We don’t have enough time to double back, retrieve the truck, and still have our wits about us to take the shot in the morning. Let’s do it your way, but after we get settled in the hide, let’s study this map again. Maybe we can come up with another mode of transportation.”

  “Saddle up but keep your head down,” said Duncan as he began to move through the rock formations and descended closer to the valley at the next ridge.

  The terrain was treacherous and required them to be careful with their footing to avoid a sprained ankle. All of the variables with this mission raced through his head as they worked their way around the launch site. He wondered if there were any circumstances under which he’d call off the mission. This had never been addressed during their brief meeting with Campbell at Misawa. He got the sense a lot was riding on his successful takedown of Kim Jong-un.

  Two hours later, the men emerged atop the ridge facing the far side of Kusong and the launch site. At the lower elevation, the rocket towered into the sky, standing alone waiting its orders. The view of the observation area was much better from this direction with one disadvantage—the shot would have to come from behind their target. If Kim Jong-un was surrounded by his entourage of generals and politburo members, they might effectively shield Dear Leader from Duncan’s shot. The other side of the ridge afforded him a direct, frontal shot, albeit through a stand of pine trees.

  The men studied their options and moved to a rock ledge that dropped nearly a hundred feet to the side of the ridge below. The more Duncan studied the options, the better he liked the ledge.

  “I don’t know, Park. This is pretty dang good right here. It’s like a platform. No obstructions. Also, it gives us a clear path out of here down the other side of the ridge.”

  Park nodded. “I agree. The report from the Barrett will send them in all directions chasing their tails. We’ll get a decent head start out of the camp before our hide is discovered.”

  Duncan looked around and found an area of soft sand and dirt. “Look, we can sleep there tonight. After we take the shot, throw our stuff in the shallow space and dump some rocks on top. In their frenzy, they might just miss it. That’ll help.”

  Park pointed over the edge of the rock ledge toward the observation platform. “Look, we’ve got some activity down below.”

  Duncan slipped the ghillie hood over his face and slithered like a snake to the edge. He shook his head to remove a piece of dead grass that had stuck into his ear. He’d taken shots in a ghillie suit before. They were a distraction and required an inordinate amount of concentration. He wondered if the suit was worth the concealment effort in light of the lack of patrols.

  He morphed into a near-motionless shape and studied the activity through his binoculars.

  “I guess our intel was right. They’re adding a table and chairs to the platform. They’re placing flags behind the table as well as some more chairs. A photographer is milling about, checking various angles to take photos.”

  “Everything is a photo op for this guy,” said Park. “Anytime he can show off his military hardware, he appears in his spiffy pin-striped commie suit, black hair slicked back, and a big old grin to match that big old frame of his.”

  Duncan didn’t respond to Park’s comments, but instead studied the furniture layout. “It looks like he’ll be walking up a few steps nearest to us. Park, I can’t wait until he’s seated because the flag might affect the shot. If there’s ev
en the slightest breeze, the flag will flutter behind his chair.”

  “Do you wanna take him before he gets on the platform? Maybe after he emerges from the car?” asked Park.

  “Either that, or after the launch when he’s being congratulated by his buddies. We’ll have to make the call as the scene develops.”

  “Duncan, this sucks. You’ve got no margin for error. Do you think you’ll be able to take a second shot if necessary?”

  Duncan took a deep breath and looked at the target area again. “Doubt it. It’s gonna have to be one shot, one kill.”

  Chapter 45

  November 15

  Mountain above Missile Launch Site

  Kusong, North Korea

  Duncan had another night of uncomfortable sleep mixed with bouts of restlessness. At times, both men found themselves awake, and they rehashed their plan. Preparation for a shot like this one would usually take weeks at any number of U.S. military installations that matched the terrain. North Korea was an enigma in many ways, which prevented planning. Duncan and Park had to rely upon their experience and common sense to successfully strike their target.

  Just before sunrise, Duncan’s watch vibrated, which brought him out of his semi-slumber. The launch was scheduled for eight a.m., but they expected Kim to arrive earlier for his usual photo-op session.

  Both men had their positions ready. Park, as the spotter, positioned himself close enough to Duncan to provide him accurate information without crowding his movements. Neither man expected to take the second shot, but if they did, Duncan would need to insert another .338 round through the bolt action of the Barrett.

  After filling his rucksack full of sand, Duncan rested the barrel of the rifle on top and sighted in the general area where he expected Kim Jong-un to emerge from his vehicle. The afternoon before, he and Park had determined the optimal position that provided the best line of sight to their target. They had cleared the ground of stones and debris to provide a comfortable place to lay on their bellies as they waited.