Code Word: Paternity, A Presidential Thriller

by Norton, Doug

  As each of the agency leaders knew full well, there Griffith would “do a Rudy,” copying the outspoken, decisive style of New York Mayor Rudy Giuliani after Nine-eleven. But though contrived, it wasn’t bad, because it got results and generated great press, for their agencies as well as for him.

  Back in his office at Creech, Arnie Cantwell smiled at a memory. After being hit with survivors’ anger at spoiled food, the VP had ordered the FBI to fetch the CEO of that company. He’d enjoyed his phone call launching agents toward corporate offices in New Jersey, whence the surprised executive was escorted to an FBI Gulfstream. In flight to the undisclosed destination the agents had deli sandwiches; the CEO was served one of his company’s meals. Forty-five minutes after touchdown at Creech, the CEO had received a memorable chewing-out and was back aboard the Gulfstream with Griffith’s list and his forty-eight hour deadline. Cantwell smiled. What a righteous use of power!

  But Griffith’s blunt criticism of the president’s diplomatic activities felt off, a taste of milk going sour. His assumption that they shared his opinion and were his guys was flattering but . . . it’s almost as if he’s holding auditions for a Griffith administration, thought Cantwell, rubbing gritty eyes, then cursing when their sting told him he had gotten sun block in them again.

  Chapter 29

  “Hello, everybody.” Dorn spoke, trying to sound brisk but not succeeding; he was tired. They all were.

  “The president wants an update on international support for his initiatives. I know it’s been a busy forty-eight hours for everyone.” Dorn glanced at the video screen and said, “Ambassador Neumann, first to you.”

  Air Force One was out of Zaventem for the fourteen-hour flight from Brussels to Tokyo. Martin, Easterly, and Dorn sat in the large cabin, which served as dining room and conference room, squarely over the Boeing 747’s huge wings.

  “Good evening, Mr. President. We’ve circulated a draft security council resolution charging North Korea with a breach of international peace and security. As anticipated, we’re running into considerable skepticism, not that a breach occurred, but as to the identity of the offender. As expected, the pushback is about the authenticity of the samples. While we have a chain of custody for the Las Vegas sample, we don’t have one for the Yongbyon sample. We are being told that in such a grave matter the Security Council can act only on the basis of incontrovertible evidence.”

  “Aaron,” said the president, “can’t you give Oscar more to work with?” His tone and gestures milked the cliché ‘What? You can’t do better than that?’

  Hendricks’ video image took that with lips clamped tightly, then spoke: “No, sir. I’m confident the material was obtained from Yongbyon and that it is unadulterated, but our chain of custody began after my agents got out of North Korea.”

  “Mr. President,” interjected Griffith, head bobbing on the screen, “with all due respect to Oscar and the good work he does at the UN, I just don’t think this is worth a lot of your time. Given what happened in 2003, there’s no way we’ll be able to move the focus from U.S. credibility to North Korean culpability. Oscar has to keep trying, but there are much better uses for your time and prestige than trying to get the UN to tackle this.”

  Martin glared at Griffith’s image. “Well, you may be right, Bruce, but getting UN support is almost a necessity, as far as I’m concerned.”

  Addressing Neumann, whose bald head reflected light as he sat before a blue background across which the words “U.S. Mission to the UN” filed, the president said, “Oscar, keep at it. Are you reminding your colleagues that the world changed on Six-thirteen and that ducking this issue will put their own countries at greater risk? What do they say to that?”

  “That slides off like water from a duck’s back, sir. Among the Perm Five, only the UK supports our draft fully. The French, Chinese, and Russians all sing the same song: Each nation must deal with this changed world in its own way; each of them is quite confident it can do so without the UN, and so should we be. In other words, dealing with North Korea is our problem! Unsurprisingly, there is in conversations with the Chinese and Russian a common undercurrent: While this is an American problem, North Korea is their neighbor, and they expect to have a say in their neighborhood. As for the rest of the Security Council,” Neumann’s hands appeared, framing his face, “I don’t think any of them feels threatened by North Korea or by Islamists with nukes, not so long as there are higher profile targets, like us.”

  Rick, listening with his right hand cupping his chin, thought Damn! That’s what I got from NATO. Don’t they get it? I guess I owe Oscar an apology for the other day.

  “Well, Oscar, I know you’re the best we have for a very tough job. I’ve just experienced something like that, and it gave me a new perspective on your challenges. Let’s both pledge to keep butting our heads against those walls, because unless we knock them down, the world will miss its last chance to put the Armageddon genie, state sponsored nuclear terrorism, back in the bottle.”

  Smiling, Neumann said, “That’s a deal, sir.”

  In a corner of his mind, Rick congratulated himself: Armageddon genie. That’s a great sound bite; I’ll use it at my press conference in Tokyo.

  “So, I might as well go ahead with my update.” Martin paused, looked down and rubbed the back of his neck.

  Looking up, he said, “In brief, my counterparts were sympathetic but just barely willing to invoke Article Five. I really had to do some arm-twisting. That’s pretty shocking, considering the North Atlantic Council invoked Article Five soon after Nine-eleven, without much fuss. But today they were reluctant to go on record that a North Korean attack on the United States is an attack on every NATO nation, even though that’s precisely what the treaty requires.”

  “What’s your take on that, Mr. President?” said Bart Guarini from the White House.

  “Bart, I’d say it’s the usual suspects, self-interest and fear. Our more willing supporters in Brussels see themselves as high enough on somebody’s target list to want NATO backup as a deterrent. The others don’t feel threatened now but fear becoming targets by supporting us.”

  “So, we’ve gotten all the help we’re going to get from NATO!” said Griffith, who was with Guarini in the Situation Room.

  “That’s what it looks like to me, Bruce,” said Martin.

  The president’s smart phone chirped. He glanced at it, then dismissed the alert. He motioned to Dorn, who said, “NATO foreign ministers told me that if we decide to use force, we’re on our own. The French foreign minister, by the way, seemed to take it for granted that we intend to retaliate by taking out at least one North Korean city. He certainly made it clear that’s what France would do!

  “I got some skeptical questions about our analysis of the bomb debris. The Belgians and the Germans think we’re repeating our WMD mistake. The Turkish foreign minister was pleased that we aren’t pointing to al-Qaeda, or another Islamist group, because that would push Turkey into a corner.”

  Martin glowered, shaking his head. When are they going to get over it? I’m not George Bush. The world has changed!

  “So, let’s hear from you, Anne,” he said. “How do things look for the summit?”

  Battista sat up straighter in her chair in Beijing, will overcoming fatigue. “Not great, but not impossible either, Mr. President. As you know, since your speech there’s been violent unrest in South Korea. Thanks to your call to President Gwon, his internal security forces were ready and quickly forced back the protesters storming our embassy.”

  At the bottom of the screen Battista’s right wrist could be seen rocking up and down. Eric Easterly registered the familiar mannerism: She was tapping a pen on the desk.

  “Bottom line on the South Koreans: they are very conflicted. Both the elites and ordinary citizens believe that Kim is difficult but someone they can live with. They believe that he will die soon and his son will be easier. Slowly, they’ll move toward closer ties between north and south. Now, suddenly, t
hey are presented with an alternative universe where Kim has attacked the United States, their own key ally, leaving North Korea open to nuclear retaliation. The consequence of a U.S. nuclear attack on the north is disaster for the south. For most South Koreans this must be like an out-of-the-blue diagnosis of a fatal cancer, ‘Hello, you have only a few weeks to live.’ Not surprisingly, they’re in denial. At the least, they want a second opinion. And, until they accept that second opinion, they’re furious at the U.S. for, as they see it, putting them in danger.”

  Martin rocked his chair back and interlaced his hands behind his aching neck. That felt better. “Do you think President Gwon shares my view that there’s a silver lining here, that it offers an opportunity for unification?”

  “No, sir. Quite the opposite. He doesn’t want to unite the north and the south in a single, chaotic event, liking marching across the DMZ as Kim leaves Pyongyang. He fears that would impose huge costs, both financially and socially, as it did when Germany unified almost overnight. He wants a unification timetable of years.”

  “So Gwon is someone else who doesn’t realize the world has changed, that he’s out of his comfort zone whether he wants to be or not?” The president scowled.

  “I’d have to agree with that, Mr. President.”

  “Well, I guess I have work to do, then! What about the Japanese?”

  Battista’s expression said ‘that’s a different story.’ “They’ve been working at acknowledging Kim is a threat for much longer than the South Koreans. They’re worried about what Kim may do to them to force us to leave him alone. Their defense minister told me that, if a decision is made to remove Kim by force, it must be done quickly; otherwise Kim will surely hit them with a nuke. Their price for supporting us is your commitment to take Kim’s government down fast and hard if that’s what you decide to do. Gradualism will cost the Japanese a city; that’s the way Minister Sato put it to me.”

  “Well, I may not give that commitment, if ‘taking Kim’s government down fast and hard’ requires killing a lot of North Korean civilians!”

  Dorn’s eyebrows shot up and he said, “Mr. President, we should think hard about the consequences of failing to prevent Japan from being hit with a nuke. Our larger goal—your initiative—is to put the brakes on nuclear proliferation. If Japan and others see that the result of forgoing their own bombs and trusting us to protect them is not protection, but great pain, there goes nonproliferation!”

  Slapping the table, Martin said, “Well, I’m not going to murder a bunch of people who bear no responsibility for Kim’s actions!”

  In Washington, Griffith looked at Guarini and shook his head. He scribbled quickly and shoved the note to him.

  Chapter 30

  “Mr. President, we need Japan’s support, and we won’t get it unless you make that commitment!” said Battista, her eyes muted by the video screen but compelling nonetheless.

  Silence.

  Guarini stepped into his role as defuser-in-chief. “Anne, what, specifically, do we need from Japan?”

  “A lot! Cutting off funds to Kim’s regime from the significant Korean population in Japan; supporting the blockade; continuing use of our navy and air force bases in Japan, which Kim will undoubtedly threaten to attack. Next there’s supporting us at this summit and in the UN, and then supporting nonproliferation itself.

  “The Japanese could have a nuclear capability in two-three years, wouldn’t you agree, Aaron?”

  The director of national intelligence nodded. “That’s a fair estimate. A nuclear Japan would be a huge shock to China, one that would surely drive them into increasing their nuclear forces.”

  Silence reigned again. Guarini, reading his boss, said, “OK, food for thought. What about Russia and China, Anne?”

  “The Russians, ah, the Russians!” Battista threw up her hands. “They’re the wild card. They’re less affected than the other three; the Russians live in the neighborhood, but not on the same block. Volkov is still angry about America’s part in the dissolution of the Soviet Union. So, I think he’s looking for an opportunity to make you squirm, Mr. President. He probably also sees a chance to get something big in return for Russia’s support. With each of the other four we have sticks to work with; with the Russians, only carrots.”

  “Well, Anne, you and John better work on finding us some sticks!” said Martin, pointing at each. “And China? Anne, what do you and Ambassador Caulfield think?”

  “China will push for the status quo, but President Ming knows we have to do something. Foreign Minister Jia told Barton and me that he fears catastrophic consequences if we attack North Korea. He said under some circumstances, like invasion, China would be compelled to assist Kim. And he said that a nuclear attack on North Korea would be quote unacceptable unquote. But, he implied that a conventional bombing campaign would not necessarily trigger their military intervention. One way to read those comments is that they describe the sticks we have to work with.”

  Battista brushed her hair back and tucked it behind her ears. “As for carrots, I’m sure President Ming will have a list. One could be the withdrawal of our support for independent Taiwan so that they can take control of it as they did Hong Kong. Another might be establishing a preferred status for Chinese investments in U.S. Treasuries.”

  “Do you think Ming will threaten to dump their holdings, or to refuse to buy more?” said Griffith.

  “Well, Mr. Vice President,” said Barton Caulfield, “that’s certainly a possibility, but the GOC didn’t buy Treasuries to do us a favor. They did it because it was a sound investment. They’ve got a lot riding on our recovery—our success in preventing other attacks and our economic health. They stand to lose not only those billions in Treasuries but also a crucial export market.”

  He paused then said, “Mr. President, as the secretary and I have been discussing, we have another carrot, one I believe is very high on Ming’s wish list! He wants to emerge from this conference as the leader of America’s superpower partner. Since the demise of the USSR, we’ve stood alone. If we now acknowledge China as our equal partner, clearly more important than Russia, it will be a huge feather in Ming’s cap. With that, plus something significant on Taiwan, Ming’s place in modern Chinese history would seem assured, not to mention his ability to stay in power.”

  Martin perked up. Observing, Guarini relaxed. “What do we need from Ming Liu?” said Martin.

  Battista responded: “Mr. President, we need a lot. We need China’s cooperation in the blockade of North Korea, just as we need South Korea’s. Without either one, no blockade. We also need their cooperation at the Security Council—at the very least, not using their veto.”

  Caulfield added, “Also, Ming is in a unique position to help us attain peaceful regime change. China is not only the DPRK’s most important source of support; culturally China is their elder cousin. If anyone can talk Kim into giving up his nukes or going into exile, it’s Ming.”

  Across the table from Guarini, the DCI spoke: “There’s one more thing, something Ming is uniquely able to do.” Hendricks paused for dramatic effect, then continued: “He can validate Paternity. He can recount Albright’s assertion about China providing HEU to the Paks and tell everyone it was true.”

  Martin rocked forward in his chair and planted his elbows on the table. “That would be huge!” he said. “If they did that, and supported us in the Security Council, we could probably get the UN to act.

  “So, everyone, how should I approach Ming?”

  Dorn, who usually waited to sum up, surprised Guarini by speaking immediately. “You need to two-step this, sir. At this meeting you need to get Ming’s cooperation, but you can’t give him that equal partnership. If you do, the Russians will surely block us at the UN. Once it’s clear we are granting China the status that the USSR had, Russia’s main objective will be to block the two of us in everything. They will be obsessed with showing the world they still count. So, we need to get the blockade going and get the necessary UN
actions before you anoint China.”

  Battista leaped in. “I agree, Mr. President. This is going to be very delicate, very subtle. In other words, right up your alley!” She cringed at her blurted words, but Martin loved them.

  “Right you are, Anne! This is a challenge, but we’re up to it. Well, I’ve got a busy thirty-six hours ahead: Premier Kato, President Gwon, and then on to Beijing. I’d better grab some sleep, unless there’s something else right now? . . . Fine. Thanks everyone!”

  The screens went dark.

  Rick tossed, sleepless, in his cabin in the nose of Air Force One. The aircraft rode smooth as silk, but he couldn’t drop off.

  This is a huge opportunity! It’s what I’ve been preparing for all my life. It’s one of those rare moments when world politics shakes free from the web of uncertainties and self-deceptions and short-term imperatives. It’s an opportunity to hit the reset button. Many leaders haven’t realized that yet, and my challenge and opportunity is to show them.

  I can do that! It’s what I’ve always done. And when I’ve done it, the world will be safer and saner than it was before Six-thirteen.

  The secretary of defense sat alone in the senior staff compartment, a nightcap in his hand. Disdaining the spiffy Air Force One leather flight jackets available, he wore an old, olive-drab nylon jacket with a worn leather patch on the left breast displaying the Navy SEAL insignia and “LT Eric Easterly, USNR” in faded gold. His gaze inventoried the cabin: leather upholstery, indirect lighting, polished wood, thick carpet, eagle glaring fiercely from the Great Seal of the United States on the bulkhead.

  Here, we’re surrounded by all the trappings, he thought. It’s easy to believe that if you conceive a plan, the power this airplane evokes will make it happen. But power is situational and IQ won’t stop a bullet. I wish the president had the experience, like me, of being pinned down by an illiterate peasant with an ancient rifle and every intention of canceling my ticket.