The captain considered this and said, “If what you say is true, why has the dear leader favored Rhee with such a great honor?”
“I suspect the general has promised him what he cannot deliver,” Duan said. “He thinks he can force us to return them, but that will never happen.”
The captain looked doubtful. “And how does he intend to force you?”
Duan looked over at the marshal, who nodded and said. “Tell him.”
“We gave him six nuclear warheads,” Duan said. “They were to be used to coerce the South into demanding the departure of the Americans and accept Chinese military protection. He has taken the weapons onboard one of our ships at Nampo. I think he now intends to sail it back to the port of Shanghai and threaten to use them if we don’t capitulate to his demands.”
“Don’t you see?” Hwang said. “He is mad. If he is allowed to do this, the Chinese will retaliate. Our country will be destroyed.”
The captain began to walk away, then stopped and returned to the cell. He removed the keys from his pocket and unlocked the door, then did the same for Hwang.
“Rhee has a briefcase,” Duan said. “It’s a remote detonator. I must get to it.”
“Is it a silver case?”
“Yes. You’ve seen it?”
“He keeps it with him at all times,” the captain said. “Come with me.”
They followed the captain back to the main entrance and up the curved marble staircase that led to the dear leader’s apartments on the first floor. When they reached the tall set of oak doors at the end of the long ornate hallway the captain told them to stay back, then knocked.
There was no answer.
The captain drew his pistol and pounded on the door several times with the butt.
“Who is it?” Rhee demanded.
“It’s Captain Shin, sir.”
“What do you want?” Rhee said.
“If I may, sir, I’d like to speak with you.”
There was a long pause, then the door opened a few inches. Rhee took one look at the pistol in the captain’s hand and quickly closed the door again. The captain lunged forward, but he wasn’t fast enough. When he heard the lock turn in the door he ran to the railing of the balcony and shouted an order to the guards below. A moment later an alarm began to bray throughout the premises. A young lieutenant came running up the stairs and handed the captain a set of keys.
“Seal the perimeter,” the captain said. “I want every exit to the building guarded.”
When the lieutenant was gone, Captain Shin unlocked the door. He entered cautiously with his pistol raised and scanned the bedchamber, then crossed to the bathroom. Both were empty.
“Where is he?” Hwang said.
“I don’t know,” the captain said, looking around in confusion. “There is no other exit.”
Before Hwang could reply Duan spotted the briefcase laying open on its side on the floor. “That’s the remote detonator.”
Hwang ran over, picked it up and set it on the bedside table. There was a number pad inside with an LED display set into a metal plate with six red lights above it. His heart sank when he saw one of these was now flashing.
Duan rushed across the room and shouldered him aside, almost knocking the marshal off his feet.
“Well?” Hwang said.
“We need to get your men off that ship,” Duan said. “And I need to make a phone call.”
Hwang walked to the phone on the side table below one of the windows and dialed a three-digit number.
“This is Vice-Marshal Gil-su Hwang of the internal security ministry. I need an international line right away.”
The marshal handed the phone to Duan. “You can dial straight out.”
Neither man lived long enough to know what happened next. Duan was dialing the number to Yew’s office when three gunshots rang out in quick succession. The first shattered the receiver and the hand it was in. The second hit Duan in the neck and tore through his spinal cord. The last thing he saw was Hwang looking down at his own abdomen, where a small hole had suddenly appeared. The captain dropped to the floor just in time to see Rhee standing beside one of the three full-length mirrors on the other side of the room, which was not a mirror at all, but a hidden doorway. Rhee fired three more shots, then turned and disappeared inside.
Chapter 104
The Pandora
Tuesday 26 June 2007
2000 EEST
Everyone was looking at Francis. On the screen the Xilin Gol had turned west and was now steaming at full speed toward the Chinese coast. At its current speed and trajectory it would reach the port of Shanghai in just under sixteen hours.
“What are we waiting for?” Mitch said. “It’s pretty obvious where they’re going.”
“Alright,” Francis nodded. “Do it.”
Mitch needed no further encouragement. He selected the command and executed it. The countdown timer appeared and began its short descent. When it reached zero the marker flashed twice. Unlike the reaction of the jets, there was no immediate sign of any effect. That came a minute later when two figures appeared on the deck above the bridge and stood looking up at the radar scanner as it slowed down and came to a stop. They quickly returned to the bridge, but not for long. A minute later men began streaming out of the superstructure and across the deck. Francis counted nineteen people before he lost track.
“What are they doing?” Richelle said.
The answer quickly became apparent as the figures reassembled in two groups beside the lifeboats on the port side and began to climb in.
“Guys?” Mitch pointed at the screen. “What the fuck is going on? Why are they bailing out?”
The answer to this also became apparent, albeit not right away. The lifeboats were already half a mile away when they saw the ship was no longer moving in a straight line. The curve of the wake was only slight, but the effect was clear. Instead of reaching the port at Shanghai the ship would now strike land further north, and in much less than fifteen hours.
“So much for buying ourselves a little time,” Mitch said in a voice that was now pregnant with the signs of approaching hysteria.
As each of them arrived independently at the same conclusion the atmosphere inside RP One began to grow even more tense.
“Jesus Christ,” Naoko said. “What the fuck have we done?”
“We need to warn them,” Richelle said. “We need to call someone right now.”
“Like anyone would believe us,” Naoko said. “And even if they did, they’d never have enough time. We should have told them about the ship in the email. What if it hits a city? What if the bomb goes off near a city? It’ll kill millions of—”
“Shut up,” Francis said.
Naoko did.
“Get him out of here,” Francis said.
Titov led Naoko away and down the gangway.
“If anyone else is feeling a nervous breakdown coming on they can join him,” Francis said. “What we need here is calm. The way I see it, we’ve only got two options. We can try to contact the Chinese and convince them to blow the ship out of the water. Personally I think it would take us longer to find someone willing to listen than it will take that ship to reach the coast. Even if we managed to get hold of someone connected to what’s going on, there’s no guarantee they would listen. Especially not to a mystery caller with no intention of identifying themselves.”
“And the second option?” Titov said.
“Odin,” Watkins said.
Francis nodded. “And I think it’s our best chance.”
“We don’t even know if it will work,” Mitch said.
“Then I suggest you get busy trying before we all come down with a case of what Naoko has. And don’t think you won’t when the time comes.”
They all looked at Mitch.
“Alright, alright,” Mitch said. “I’m on it.”
“Wait,” Richelle said.
Everyone turned to look at her.
“I appreciate you’re trying to do the right
thing,” Richelle said. “I really do. But this is about more than just that ship. You’re suggesting we put this entire operation and everyone here at risk, and I can’t let you do that.”
“The fuck you can’t,” Mitch said.
“Hey,” Titov said, “you mind what you say, you hear me?”
To everyone’s surprise Mitch stood up and pointed at Titov, “And you can stop treating me like I’m an idiot. Just how many lives do you think this precious facility is worth, anyway? A few thousand?”
Titov appeared too stunned at this rebuke to respond.
“It’s got nothing to do with numbers,” Richelle said. “And don’t start spouting your hippy bullshit about the right to life either. It’s a shitty world, Mitch. You ought to know that better than most.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Mitch protested.
“It means sometimes there are no easy choices.”
“Really?” Mitch retorted, “Because this one looks pretty—”
“Enough,” Francis cut in. “This isn’t helping. The simple fact is that we may well be responsible for what’s going on. For all we know taking Jasper out of the picture could have triggered this. So even if it is a moral choice, it’s a risk we’re obliged to take.”
To this no one seemed to have an argument.
But if the idea was a good one, the timing was not. With Watkins’s help Mitch accessed the dropship interface and selected the option to deploy. What followed was half an hour of trial and error that left the tension on the bridge only a degree or two below the boiling point.
“What’s going on, guys?” Francis said. “Is this happening or not?”
“It’s not going to happen any faster with you breathing down our necks,” Mitch said.
Francis had an answer to this, but Richelle nodded toward the gangway before he could provide it. “Come on. Let’s leave them to it.”
Titov joined them in the hangar. When almost an hour had passed without word, Richelle began to crack. She started pacing back and forth, slowly at first then faster, until Titov finally had to stop her.
“We’re all going to hell for this,” Richelle said. “You know that, don’t you?”
When Titov made no reply, she pointed at Francis. “Wait and see? We’ve been sitting around here on our asses for days watching this happen and all you had to say was ‘wait and see’. Well, we waited and now we can see. We can see what a fucking enormous mistake it was.”
“Whatever,” Francis said.
“What’s that?” Richelle said. “Come again?”
“I said you can think what you like,” Francis said. “Just have your period somewhere else.”
“You watch your fucking mouth,” Titov said to Francis, then turned to Richelle. “And you better calm down. Why don’t the two of you just admit that you’re crazy about each other and spare us all this preschool crush bullshit.”
Mitch was standing at the foot of the gangway with a smile on his face that had no right to be there under the circumstances.
“What is it?” Titov said.
“I’ve got good news and bad news,” Mitch said.
When no one expressed a preference for either, Mitch said. “The good news is that we figured it out. The bad news is that the dropship won’t be in position for another five hours.”
Chapter 105
East China Sea
Tuesday 26 June 2007
0130 CST
While the newly appointed leadership of Aurora was going out of their minds waiting for Mitch and the gang to implement the second of Francis’s two options, the captain of the Xilin Gol was fairing little better in his attempts to unwittingly execute the first.
Making contact with the Chinese coast guard on the radio inside the lifeboat had been easy enough, but things had quickly gone downhill. The young officer dealing with the situation turned out to be both a devout skeptic and a complete idiot. When the captain finally abandoned his no-holds-barred approach and switched to the more subtle art of persuasion the radio operator immediately interpreted this as a sign that he was lying about the condition of the ship and its deadly cargo—not that he had shown any signs of believing it in the first place.
This charade went on for over half an hour before the supervisor on the other end got involved and quickly adopted the opinion of his subordinate, namely that the captain was a prank caller getting his kicks out of blocking the emergency frequency—a crime punishable by several years behind bars—as he wasted no time pointing out.
Things only started going the captain’s way when the Xilin Gol was identified on the coast guard’s radar and stubbornly refused to answer all calls for identification. From there the matter slowly began to crawl its way up the bureaucracy until the commanding officer was eventually woken up. He arrived an hour later and immediately ordered the deployment of the station’s only vessel, an aging Type 053 frigate with only two of its four diesel engines in working order. By the time she set sail the Xilin Gol was 112 miles from shore.
The frigate’s skipper, a retired tanker captain in the navy reserve, began hailing the cargo ship with increasingly harsh threats, as if the reluctant crew were merely holding out for the worst possible terms before responding.
When the Xilin Gol was only 80 miles away and likely to reach land somewhere between the mouth of Jiaozhou Bay and Tuolou Island—a heavily populated stretch of coast—within less than four hours, the order was given to arm the frigate’s anti-ship missiles.
The first of these was launched half an hour later. It travelled less than a quarter mile before the active radar in the rocket’s nose cone malfunctioned and sent it plunging into the sea. The second faired only slightly better and short-circuited the entire launch system in the process, starting a fire in the battery compartment that nearly took the ship down with it in what would have been irony at its very best.
It was for this reason that only two members of the crew witnessed the arrival of the nearest thing to the son of heaven the Chinese had seen since the abdication of the last Manchu emperor. It was little more than a streak of bright blue light, not unlike a shooting star, but much closer. Both men would later recount the sighting on numerous occasions and on the graves of as many dead relatives as they could think of.
Chapter 106
The Pandora
Wednesday 27 June 2007
0100 EEST
The hours leading up to the launch of Odin were among the most awkward any of those living through them could recall, and for reasons that had little to do with the looming disaster in the East China Sea. Everyone but Naoko, who was sleeping the sleep of the dead compliments of GlaxoSmithKline, had heard Titov’s reprimand of Francis and Richelle. As the only member of the group—and possibly Aurora as a whole—for whom the light bulb had yet to come on, Heinz was perhaps the most affected. You might think that this comparatively irrelevant issue would have been overshadowed by the weight of all others, but human interaction is not mathematics, and thus divorced from logic and free of reason. Mitch found the entire thing highly amusing, while Watkins maintained the fiction that he hadn’t heard anything, and Titov appeared to be praying, more likely than not for a time machine. Meanwhile Francis and Richelle had retreated to separate corners of the universe. It made for five colorful hours.
“Ten minutes,” Mitch said. “Someone better go get Romeo down here.”
Titov glared at him, and for a moment it appeared as if Mitch’s future, too, hung in the balance, but the Russian only grunted his disapproval and walked away.
The Xilin Gol was now 65 miles from shore. No one had noticed the Chinese coast guard’s failed attempt to sink her because the altitude of the current view was too high to make out individual ships. All that was visible on the screen was the rectangular tracking marker and the rapidly approaching coast line.
Titov returned with Francis a few minutes later.
“You better sit here,” Mitch said and climbed down from the command seat.
<
br /> “You ready?” Titov said.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Francis said.
Mitch sat down beside Watkins at the terminal directly in front of Francis. When the timer on the screen finally hit zero, a blue cross appeared on the screen. Mitch zoomed in the view until only the Xilin Gol could be seen and positioned the cross in the empty space between two of the cargo hatches. When he confirmed the location, a compartment in the wall of RP One between the two adjacent terminals popped open with a faint hiss. Heinz reached inside and pulled out a helmet that was similar but not identical to the one they had used on the Isle of Dragons. Instead of covering the eyes, this one had a red visor and was made of a much lighter material. Also unlike the other one, this helmet was attached to something inside the box by a thin cable that appeared to stretch rather than roll out as Heinz walked to the center of the bridge and handed it to Francis.
“Any last prayers?” Francis asked.
When no one offered one he raised the helmet above his head and put it on. He reached for the buttons on the sides only to find there weren’t any.
“So how do I turn it on?” Francis said.
“You don’t,” Mitch said. “I think the other system was a direct link. This one either runs through Gandalf or the dropship. You’re just going to have to trust us.”
“Well… I’m ready when you are,” Francis said.
Mitch selected the launch command and looked at Watkins.
“Do it,” Watkins ordered.
When he executed the command another countdown began.
“You’ve got about twenty seconds,” Watkins said. “That’s assuming the link is instant. There’s a chance it may only come online once Odin is on the ground.”
“I think I’d prefer the latter,” Francis said. “Falling from outer space isn’t exactly—”
When they all turned to look at him Francis was gone. His eyes were shut and his lips pressed together in the frozen m he had been about to articulate.
“I guess that answers that question,” Mitch said.
Origin - Season Two Page 34