Code Word: Paternity, A Presidential Thriller

by Norton, Doug

  Do I truly have Martin by the balls? Maybe, but we may actually have each other by the balls. China will suffer if Martin turns North Korea into a radioactive wasteland and the fallout and the survivors come here. There’s also a problem—perhaps more of a problem—if he unseats Kim and unifies Korea under southern rule. Still, the united Korea will be weak for many years; repairing the social and economic devastation the Kims created will be a huge drain. On balance, I’d rather deal with unification.

  Ming’s mind returned to Jia’s skepticism. Yes, they could be lying, but why should they? That would be very risky. And they do have the technology. Albright told our ambassador some of the uranium that produced the Pakistani explosions had come from our enrichment plant in Heping. She was dead right.

  That’s it! It is I who have Martin. Ming smiled at the tomato plant he was spraying. He’ll be desperate for China’s confirmation of his technology! He needs us so badly that I may be able to get him to withdraw American support for Taiwan Province. I could bring them back into the nation, just as Jiang Zemin brought Hong Kong back. Now that would be something!

  Chapter 25

  “Mr. Speaker, the President of the United States.” As the ceremonial announcement ended, Martin began moving down the center aisle.

  He felt the applause as much as he heard it. From the countless times he had proceeded to a podium amidst applause, Rick judged its promise. Some welcoming applause was ebullient, warm, and eager, sweeping under him like a surfer’s dream wave and lifting him for a long, exhilarating swoop down its face. Not tonight, he realized. This applause was fearfully expectant. It was brittle, capable of being shattered into splinters of silence or jagged shards of rage by what he was about to say.

  Rick knew this was the speech of his life. There could be others of even greater moment as he brought the nation and the world to a safer place, but those speeches wouldn’t happen unless he got this one right.

  Working down the aisle, through the ritual handshakes, Rick and Wilson shouldered through tension as thick as the crowd of legislators. Keeping his expression solemn and confident, Rick chanted “Hi, Hello, Thanks” and heard the bland greetings of uncertain politicians fearful of uttering anything that might power an attack ad come next election: “We’re with you, Mr. President; God be with you; lead us through this; the nation needs wisdom and prudence, Mr. President.”

  Congressman Ray Morales observed the scrum, thinking that many of those elbowing to get into the TV coverage with Martin would never support him; they just wanted a free ride on his video coattails.

  Reaching the well, the president shook hands with congressional leaders and his cabinet, the joint chiefs, and supreme court justices. He caught Ella’s eye, easily spotting her standing dead center in the balcony, and then climbed to the rostrum. The brittle applause continued; Rick accepted it for only a moment before motioning for silence. Above and behind him he heard the Speaker’s gavel and his call to order.

  Solemnly and proudly, Martin recounted destruction and heroics at Las Vegas, the resilience of the American spirit, and the support of other nations. He acknowledged and praised the efforts of America’s defenders, who were screening cargo, scouring the globe for information, and had so far prevented follow-up attacks.

  Rick paused, scanning the packed chamber. OK, that was the easy part. They’re a jaded bunch, but right now they’re scared enough to be hanging on my words. Now for what I want them to do.

  He took up the theme of balance between civil liberties and measures to uncover and block the next attack. He told them actions like Operation Sudden Touch were bearing fruit and thanked Americans for their cooperation.

  Before leaving the topic, Martin threw down the gauntlet. “I will say to you and to the American people that the measures in N-SEPA are vital to the protection of the country. But no president rules by fiat; no president is above the laws of this land. So even though I believe we place ourselves at greater risk if I order an end to measures like Sudden Touch, I will do so unless Congress approves the N-SEPA legislation within the thirty days to which I have voluntarily limited my authority to act alone. The president is the commander-in-chief but does not have sole authority or sole responsibility. In their wisdom, the framers of our Constitution also gave authority and responsibility to the legislative and judicial branches. I ask both branches to consider that and act to help your president protect the American people.”

  Morales joined the applause, but it was scattered and most of Martin’s own party were silent. Not one of the justices applauded. Ray thought Martin was doing the presidency no favors by saying the president’s authority and responsibility as commander-in-chief were shared.

  Well, most of them didn’t like that at all, Rick thought. I wouldn’t have liked it either, as a senator. I just told them that they would be required to share responsibility and couldn’t avoid it by legislative deadlock. Whether they act, or whether they do not, they share this responsibility for balancing civil liberties and public safety.

  The president turned next to the link between terrorists and nuclear weapons. After walking through the collective failure of vision that had allowed the link to be forged, he announced his intention to initiate, through the UN, a program to break it. That got solid applause.

  Of course, he thought, who would be against that and, besides, I’m not asking them to take responsibility.

  Martin let the applause die, then gazed around the crowded chamber. For a moment his eyes became opaque as he looked inward, gathering himself. He felt the wetness in his armpits as his body anticipated what he was about to reveal. Hands grasping either side of the lectern, gripping hard, shoulders back, he saw his listeners reacting, feeling the imminence of a moment of climax.

  Ella kept her face impassive but felt doubts surround her again. He’s still not strong enough on this; he’s going to look weak, out of touch.

  “I close with serious, but fundamentally hopeful, news. Through a technical program whose evidence we will make available to all, a program begun over forty years ago by a far-sighted American president and several times validated by events . . . I can tell you tonight who is responsible for the attack that destroyed Las Vegas.”

  His words seemed to absorb every other sound in the chamber. Martin swept his gaze across the crowd, eyes hard. He gathered them all, held them all, then spoke.

  “Las Vegas was destroyed by a North Korean nuclear weapon and we hold the North Korean government responsible. The bomb derived its nuclear explosive power from plutonium reprocessed in the facility at Yongbyon. I have seen the evidence and I believe it.”

  Morales wasn’t surprised and didn’t join the uproar that filled the chamber.

  Rick paused, letting the moment drain like a lanced boil.

  He spoke into the hubbub: “I promise you . . .” He stopped, waiting for silence.

  “I promise you that accountability for this attack will be stern and certain and appropriate.”

  Rick heard a few shouts of “nuke them.” Concealing his satisfaction, he spread his arms wide and raised them above his head. “No,” he said, “at least not now.

  “To hear this for the first time is to experience rage and the urge to strike back. I know, for I felt that too. I am conscious of the fact that, as commander-in-chief, I could give the order and North Korea would be entirely destroyed within a few hours. But I am aware, as you will become aware when thought replaces rage, as it will, that North Korea is ruled by an absolute dictator.”

  Bruce Griffith fought to keep a poker face. And what will you do, Mr. President, when what you call thought—I call it temporizing—fails to prevent another attack?

  Martin continued: “Responsibility rests with that dictator, Kim Jong-il, not the people of North Korea. He and those who help him enslave the North Korean people are the ones we will hold accountable. That accountability, and ensuring Kim is unable ever again to attack any nation with nuclear weapons, is my first goal. I believe it will becom
e a goal shared by most Americans and indeed by most nations.”

  The president paused and sipped water, creating a moment for his listeners to reflect.

  “We have, therefore, within the last few days begun the process of consultation with North Korea’s neighbors, countries that would be deeply affected by a worst-case resolution of Kim’s threat to the United States. I am pleased to report that their initial responses have been positive. At this moment Secretary of State Battista is in Beijing, where the Chinese government has agreed to host a meeting of the United States, China, Japan, Russia, and South Korea. I expect that this will prepare the ground for a summit meeting of this same group in the near future.”

  Morales, as a junior congressman jammed in far to the rear, watched live video on his smart phone. Seeing a close-up of Ella, he knew they had the same thought: negotiation won’t make Americans safer from nuclear-armed terrorists any time soon.

  “I have also asked the nations of NATO to meet at heads-of-state level immediately and urged UN Security Council action to condemn North Korea for this attack and to develop a work program to address the threat that nuclear terrorism poses to all countries.

  “I recognize that, despite our hopes and efforts, my plan for the peaceful resolution of this deadly threat might not succeed. In that case, let there be no mistake: the United States will . . . act forcefully . . . to protect itself.” Martin emphasized each pause with a slash of his hand. Applause thundered.

  Has he no shame? thought Griffith. He touts what he is least likely to do in order to get at least one sound bite of solid applause. Griffith tasted bile.

  “This appalling situation and the threat it highlights for all nations saddens me but also gives me hope. The community of nations has far too long ignored the growing and inescapable danger of nuclear terrorism, a danger as universal as climate change. It is my expectation—and my prayer—that out of the pain of Las Vegas will come broad and effective international action to break forever the connection that now exists between terrorists and nuclear weapons.”

  New, sustained applause told Rick he was over the hump. They’ve gotten over their first shock. Now for a tip of the hat to Bruce, a nod to the sensibility of the Congress, and out. This is working!

  “These diplomatic initiatives at the highest level will, obviously, require a large share of my attention. The country is fortunate to have a vice president of such ability that he can be my strong right arm in the crucial work of recovery and homeland security.”

  Martin turned to look at the man seated behind him and to his right. “Vice President Griffith, I salute your energy, skill, and patriotism!”

  The vice president preened, disdain swept away by vanity.

  When the applause for Griffith, who had been a popular senator, had died, Martin spoke again.

  “Being sons of the Congress, the vice president and I understand, respect, and value the crucial role that each of you plays in the life of our country. And while we cannot claim personal experience with the role of the judicial branch”—he gestured to the black-robed justices—“we are equally aware of its importance, particularly in keeping America true to herself. I pray that God will give all of us the wisdom and strength to do our duties in this time of unparalleled crisis and unparalleled opportunity.

  “May God bless the United States of America!

  “Good night.”

  Sweaty and elated, President Martin plunged into the departure ritual, working his way up the aisle toward the massive doors.

  On the dais, Griffith leaned close to Speaker Ron Nielsen. “What do you really think, Ron?

  “I think he just handed you the hardest, riskiest part of his job, while refusing your recommendation to attack North Korea. You got screwed without getting kissed, Bruce!”

  Chapter 26

  Fahim was always alert, but especially while driving. Heading north on Interstate 5 from San Diego to Los Angeles, intently scanning the shoulders, Fahim noticed a pair of police cruisers parked perhaps a quarter mile ahead on his right and, across the median, another pair on the shoulder of the southbound lanes. Reacting immediately, he slowed and pulled out of the traffic stream, halting on the shoulder before reaching the cruisers.

  While miming the actions of a conscientious driver pulled over to respond to the bleat of his smart phone, Fahim scanned the highway behind, then ahead, watching the torrent of cars flooding the concrete riverbed.

  Suddenly cops left the cruisers on each side of the median and ignited highway flares. About fifteen seconds later, the cruisers nosed into the traffic streams, matching speeds, and then braking rapidly. Behind them, beside the flares, other police made emphatic “slow down now” gestures. Within a minute Fahim’s car was no longer being buffeted by the slipstreams of vehicles passing at seventy miles per hour. The freeway had become a parking lot.

  Fahim heard the distinctive sound of Blackhawk helicopters. He knew it well from his days in Iraq, and that history was why he was so cautious. Fahim imagined other drivers cursing and muttering about “the idiots” who thought these precautions were necessary, but he was relieved. He had, as the Americans say, dodged a bullet. As he steeled himself for a long delay, he thought things over.

  A Palestinian born and educated in England, Fahim had felt compelled, as if drawn by a magnetic force, to go to the land of his fathers and help his people fight for their land and rights. An electrical engineer with a minor in computer science, Fahim had been, once he convinced the hard men of Hamas of his loyalty, a welcome addition to their relatively small corps of bomb-makers. Eventually he was drawn to al-Qaeda in Iraq.

  Fahim considered President Martin’s speech. The movement’s strategy of not claiming the attack was shrewd. It deprived the Americans of an indisputable enemy. Martin had pointed to some scientific program for evidence that North Korea was that enemy, but science could and would be challenged. Shaking his head, Fahim was amazed at Martin’s willingness to spare the country he had identified as the deadliest enemy in American history while he negotiated. His lips twisted, as if he had bitten something foul. It was ludicrous that Martin would not strike back for fear of harming “the people of North Korea.”

  He felt contempt for Martin and America wash over him, carrying away his own fear and loneliness. And he recalled his orders: “Detonate each bomb in a major city. Try for one in the east and one in the west. Do it this year.”

  I destroyed Las Vegas because it was the easiest western target. The fact that it had symbolism as the very epicenter of unrighteous behavior, and that neighboring Creech Air Force Base was the site from which Predator attacks were controlled, was fortuitous, but no more than that. And no one, not even I, knows yet where or when the second bomb will be detonated. This too will be determined by circumstances after it arrives in about three weeks.

  Fahim squirmed into a new position and drank from his water bottle. His reverie broken, he noticed a highway patrolman speaking to the driver of a car ahead of him.

  What’s going on? Why’s he talking with that driver? We’re both outside the inspection area!

  What’s that in his hand?

  Fahim feared several electronic devices the Americans used. One took digital fingerprints and quickly compared them to several databases. Another did a facial scan and compared the biometric indices with its own internal file of the ten thousand “most wanted,” a file updated daily. He knew he had been identified and physically catalogued in Iraq and would be in those files.

  His stomach twisted as the cop walked toward him.

  ***

  The Dear Leader paced and smoked. Martin’s speech continued the American way of ignoring Korea’s kibun, feelings. Martin was as arrogant as all the others, speaking without regard for anshim, the obligation to act in a way that is harmonious. Kim felt his anger rising.

  He and his brave people had been brazenly accused of attacking America and then threatened with retaliation—no, annihilation—before the entire world, as if they had
no choice but to accept this disrespect. Well, thought Kim, Martin would soon learn that the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea is not helpless!

  Unlike the Rogers administration that had ignored him, the Martin administration would be forced into engaging him, and engaging him as an equal. And, in the way of Bush and Clinton, Martin would find out that Korea, like the spiny sea urchin, drew the blood of those who tried to grasp it.

  While one aspect of Martin’s speech had been surprising, it was a mere tactical detail. The surprise was Martin acting as if the Arabs played no part. This was an interesting gambit, but no more than that. Kim paused at the window in the east corner of this office and gazed out at Pyongyang, but what he saw in his imagination was President Martin.

  Martin’s feeble trick did not change the situation because he knew the weak American president was afraid of using the only weapon that could hurt him. UN sanctions? Kim would flood the Internet with video of starving Korean children. He would declare sanctions equivalent to war and mobilize the brave people who loved him so. He would order the relief agencies to leave; then they would exert pressure on the UN to desist from sanctions so that they could return. Attack by American bombs and missiles? He would unleash another flood of video, this time of mutilated children. Kim knew his skill as a dramatist would triumph over sanctions and bombs. He smiled.

  An attack by the American army? His soldiers would outnumber the Americans and would be defending their beloved homeland’s rugged terrain. That alone would be enough to defeat them, but he had even more. He would attack Japan with missiles, and Tokyo would demand that Washington withdraw. His agents would spark rioting in every South Korean city. And undergirding all that was China, which could not, would not allow American soldiers to win, even if they somehow bled their way northward.

  Kim felt a confident glow; his father would have been proud of him now. Like the Great Leader, he would defeat the Americans and shame them. He knew, though, that his father would expect him to take revenge for Martin’s arrogance. And that was the most satisfying of all the opportunities Martin had presented. By his gambit, Martin had ensured that when the second bomb was detonated, it would be seen not as the Arabs’, but as Kim’s, his defiant, crushing retaliation.