Robert Ludlum's (TM) the Patriot Attack

by Kyle Mills

  Morrison started to open the folder in his hand but then seemed to lose strength. Finally, he just laid it on the table between them. “May I ask where you got the analysis you gave me, sir?”

  “No,” Castilla responded simply.

  The soldier nodded. “Well, it was a hell of a job. I wish whoever did it worked for me.”

  The president had had plenty of time to prepare for this meeting so he was able to keep his expression impassive. He’d hoped that Morrison was here to tell him that Klein and Takahashi were completely full of shit, but the truth was that neither man ever had been before.

  “Tell me about Takahashi,” Castilla said. This was one of Klein’s few blind spots. He could lay out the intel better than anyone, but he’d never worked with the Japanese general. Never gotten drunk with him.

  Morrison chewed his lip for a moment. “Masao is a complicated man. He’s brilliant—there’s no question of that. He has an encyclopedic knowledge of history but manages to avoid getting bogged down in it. He’s always leaned toward a progressive view of the military…” His voice faded for a moment. “But I wasn’t aware it was this progressive.”

  “Let me ask you a question, Keith. Do you like the man? Do you consider him a friend?”

  Morrison shook his head. “I’ve always admired Masao, but when you get to know him, you come to understand that he has a dark side.”

  “Explain.”

  “First of all, let’s be clear that he blames the US not only for the defeat of Japan, but for what he sees as Japan’s weakness over the last three-quarters of a century. And on a personal level he holds us responsible for the deaths of a number of his family members during and after war, including his mother.”

  “So the fact that after everything the Japanese did, we helped rebuild them into a major economic power doesn’t hold any water with him at all?”

  “He doesn’t see that as generosity. He sees it as fear.”

  “Fear of what?”

  Morrison didn’t respond immediately, obviously wanting to choose his words carefully. “In addition to history, Masao has a keen interest in genetics. And while he’s never come out and said it directly, I can tell you that he believes the Japanese people are—”

  “Please don’t say the master race,” Castilla said, starting to feel a little ill. The world had been down this path before.

  “As much as I want to say no, that’s an accurate portrayal. In his mind, we singled out Japanese Americans for internment during World War Two because we subconsciously acknowledge that they’re a homogeneous, superior group that has to be suppressed. He sees our rebuilding of their country as a desperate attempt to control them. To make them dependent on us and prevent them from reestablishing a military capability.”

  “Jesus, Keith. Why am I just hearing this now?”

  “Because Takahashi’s personal feelings were never important before. He doesn’t run the country and Japan is an ally with virtually no offensive capability. Or so we believed.”

  Castilla didn’t immediately respond. The thought of Takahashi using his new arsenal against the American mainland had made his mouth go dry. “If he thinks the Japanese are at the top of the genetic hierarchy, can I assume that he thinks the Chinese are at the bottom?”

  “Unquestionably.”

  “So where do we slot in, Keith?”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know the answer to that, sir. My gut says that we aren’t in his crosshairs. The Chinese have a deep hatred for the Japanese and they’re pushing the entire region hard.”

  Castilla nodded knowingly. If he’d been the prime minister of Japan instead of the president of the United States, it would be an issue that consumed him. The situation between China and Japan was starting to parallel that of the United States and Soviet Union during the Cold War. Except that Japan had to trust the US to intervene on its behalf. A very precarious position to be in.

  “Okay. But why escalate this, Keith? Why not demonstrate their capabilities publicly—put China in its place?”

  “That would just maintain the status quo, sir. Takahashi is more ambitious than that. With his only real rival in Asia out of the way and a demonstration of his military superiority, he has the ability to take control of the entire region. Japan is a resource-poor island with a relatively small, aging population. He needs territory, people, and raw materials.”

  “What’s his endgame?”

  “Based on what I know about the man, I would say that his goal is to wipe out China and overtake the US as the world’s primary superpower.”

  It was time for a drink. Castilla walked to his desk and pulled out a bottle. Morrison was a devout Mormon, so he didn’t offer, though the man looked like he could use it.

  “Then it’s your opinion that he will attack.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “How?”

  “There’s no question in my mind that he’ll lead with the nanotech. I’d introduce it quietly and by the time the Chinese realize what’s happening, their military and civilian infrastructure will be in full collapse. Assuming they discover who’s behind it and they’re still capable of mounting a counterattack, it’ll be easily handled by Japan’s defenses.”

  Castilla poured himself a glass of bourbon and leaned against his desk for support. It was hard to even comprehend. Hundreds of millions of people going into winter with no electricity or shelter, no food or transportation. Cities full of people fighting for whatever scraps they could find in the rubble. And a planet suddenly robbed of a massive economic power that manufactured an enormous amount of its goods and consumed trillions of dollars’ worth of products and services. In all likelihood the world would be plunged into a massive depression and the United States and Japan would spend the next fifty years battling for supremacy.

  “We’re talking about the extermination of hundreds of millions of people, Keith. Of civilians. Women and children. How do we stop him?”

  “Militarily?”

  Castilla nodded.

  “We can’t, sir. I’m sorry.”

  “That’s not acceptable. America isn’t going to sit by while people are slaughtered. That’s not who we are as a country.”

  “I understand, sir. But it’s my duty to give you my unvarnished opinion.”

  “And that is?”

  “We can’t win. But we can lose big.”

  “You’re telling me that a country that spends more on its military than the next ten countries combined is helpless?”

  “Essentially, yes. We have a number of insurmountable problems in a confrontation with Japan. The first is that we would have to rely heavily on our navy and I don’t think there’s any question that their self-cavitating torpedo technology is what Takahashi says it is.”

  “So all those aircraft carriers the admirals keep telling me I need are useless because of a few video game–controlled torpedoes?”

  “Our fleet wasn’t designed to defend against a swarm of autonomous torpedoes traveling at three hundred knots, sir. In the end, our carriers are as big as cities and move just about as fast. We’d have to keep them well out of range and we aren’t certain what that range is. In a worst-case scenario, all of our carrier groups could be taken out within a few hours.”

  “Submarines?”

  “We assume that these would be much harder for Takahashi to neutralize.”

  “Then we could use their missiles?”

  Morrison nodded. “The only chance I can see of defeating Japan would be a preemptive nuclear strike done in waves, preferably from land and sea and preferably in a coordinated effort with China.”

  Castilla took a long pull on his drink, focusing for a moment on the sensation of it burning down his throat. What Morrison was talking about was the annihilation of every living thing on the island of Japan in an attack that the world would see as completely unprovoked. All on the assumption that Takahashi was indeed going to move against China and that he had the weapons he said he did.

  “There coul
d be drawbacks we’d need to consider, though, sir.”

  “Really?” Castilla said, his voice rising uncontrollably. “Drawbacks to turning Japan into a radioactive cinder? Who would have thought?”

  He caught himself and let out a long, slow breath. “I’m sorry, Keith.”

  “I understand, sir. I think I yelled almost the exact same thing at one of my staff just this morning.”

  “I assume you’re talking about Japan’s retaliation?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “The nanotech.”

  “I’m not so sure that would be in Takahashi’s best interest. The destruction of the US would be devastating to the civil and economic stability of the world—something Japan would feel the effects of for the next century.”

  “Then what?”

  “You have to understand that the US is completely undefended against an attack by a sophisticated enemy. We can assume that Takahashi would know the moment we launched, and based on what he told us we can surmise that his missile defense system will protect Japan for at least a few days.”

  “And in those few days, what could we expect?”

  “Certainly an extremely sophisticated cyber attack. We’d lose communications, Internet, and most of our power grid. If it were me, I’d also have charges set up at strategic points in our grid to make sure it would take months to get power back to the entire country. Further, if Takahashi has a nuclear weapons program, we can assume he’s created suitcase nukes and has brought a number of them into the US.”

  “What the hell makes you think that?” Castilla said. “He never said anything about suitcase nukes.”

  “Because it’s what I’d do, sir. We developed them years ago but abandoned the technology because we have an incredibly effective intercontinental delivery system. Miniaturized nukes dovetail perfectly with Takahashi’s philosophy of small, cheap, and independent.”

  “Do we have any way to find them? Where would they be?”

  “There is no practical way to find them,” Morrison responded. “And as far as where they’d be, certainly Washington. In order to make it convenient for lobbyists and bureaucrats, we’ve chosen to concentrate our entire government in a very small geographic location. Of course, he’d cover other major cities and major military facilities. Then, too, there’s the possibility of a biological attack, though I would bet against it for strategic reasons. Not fast acting enough.”

  “Jesus” was all Castilla could manage to get out. He was starting to feel numb. “So you’re telling me that we just have to sit back and watch?”

  “We’ve known each other for a long time, Mr. President. You know how hard this is for me to say, but yes. We can’t win this fight. And even if we could, we can’t be certain it would do anything to help the Chinese. The nanotech may already have been deployed. The best thing we can do is start drawing up plans for humanitarian efforts in the aftermath. Beyond that, our hands are tied.”

  54

  Northeastern Japan

  The door slid open and Jon Smith watched it carefully. The procedure was the same as it had been every time before: a single guard standing with his back against the far wall of the corridor, one hand buried suggestively in his jacket. It was always the same man—stocky, rock hard, with a weathered face and dead eyes. Smith owed his life many times over to his gift for sizing up the competition, and this guy was one nasty piece of work. Almost certainly Special Forces, probably significant combat experience, and clearly serious about his job.

  Smith expected—or more accurately hoped—that this was the beginning of another visit from the very conflicted Dr. Ito, but instead Masao Takahashi strode in. The door closed behind him and Smith bowed respectfully. Pretty much everything that could be used as a weapon had been removed from the room, and fashioning one out of the materials at hand was impossible with two cameras watching him.

  “Colonel Smith,” the man said, taking a seat and sliding an Android tablet across the table. “I have something to show you that I think you’ll find interesting.”

  Smith looked down at the tablet. It was split into four videos with touchscreen controls at the bottom. The top left feed depicted a table set up in the woods with camouflage screening above it. Two men were leaning over it, silently discussing something that appeared to be a map. The second feed showed a massive silver cylinder being worked on by a group of young people. A woman stood about ten yards from them, leaning against a tree and watching. The image was too small to make out facial features, but he knew the body language. Randi Russell.

  The other two feeds were just shots of dense foliage. One of them had a few out-of-focus feathers in the foreground.

  “The activity is just on the other side of the mountain this facility is built into. I’m told that the machine you’re looking at is a new kind of nuclear-powered tunneling system. It appears that Ms. Russell is wise enough not to mount a frontal assault and is instead going to try to come up on our flank. I have to admit that I admire her tenacity. And the machine itself is really quite ingenious.”

  “But her plan isn’t going to work,” Smith said.

  “No. And I can’t imagine she doesn’t know that. Ms. Russell has a duty to perform and she intends to do so to the best of her ability. I would expect no less from a woman of her reputation.”

  “So you have the entire mountain wired with cameras?” Smith said, really just to stall. But for what? A sudden bolt of inspiration that would allow him to stroll out of there and warn Randi that her operation had been compromised?

  “No, that wouldn’t be practical,” Takahashi said, tapping the tablet with a finger. “Actually, I think you’ll be quite intrigued by this technology. Your own military has put a great deal of money into small, stealthy surveillance drones. We did the same more than a decade ago but they’re frankly not a very good solution.”

  “No?” Smith said, still desperately trying to calculate a way to stop what was starting to look inevitable.

  Takahashi shook his head. “They’re not particularly stealthy, they’re difficult to land and maneuver, and they have very limited range. Birds, though, have none of those failings. When one of my people came to me with the idea of mounting fiber-optic cameras to birds of prey and controlling them with mild electric shocks, I have to admit I was skeptical. Twelve years later, though, we’ve turned it into an incredibly versatile battlefield surveillance platform. And better yet, even with training the animals, our costs are under three thousand US dollars per unit.”

  “Impressive,” Smith said absently, unable to take his eyes off Randi. The woman was a witch when it came to recognizing that she was in danger. Yet there she was, completely oblivious. He tried to will her to look up but what good would it do? All she’d see was a goddamn bird perched in a tree.

  “I have to admit that I’m not quite sure how to react to Ms. Russell’s efforts and thought I’d ask your advice. My assumption is that by now Keith Morrison has told your president that siding with the Chinese would be suicidal. But is he listening? Is what you’re looking at on that tablet a last, futile attempt to stop me? Or is it the first salvo in a full-scale attack by your country? Is Castilla willing to sacrifice the lives of millions of Americans in order to protect a country that every day becomes more of a threat to you and your standing in the world? From my perspective, that seems…insane.”

  Smith stared down at the video feeds, trying to decide what to say. He’d had a great deal of time to think, and much of it had been spent on how the US would fare in a confrontation with Takahashi’s new military. The conclusion that he’d come to was that America would be decimated and the world would descend into chaos in the aftermath.

  “President Castilla isn’t a stupid man and neither are the people advising him, General. Here’s what I can tell you. If Randi is involved, this is a very quiet, small-scale operation. Virtually no one knows about it and if it doesn’t work, no one ever will.”

  “Then, in your opinion, your country will back down.�
�

  “In my opinion, yes,” Smith said honestly. “There’s a big difference between sacrificing a handful of operatives and sacrificing three hundred and fifty million civilians.”

  Takahashi leaned back in his chair and nodded thoughtfully. “Perhaps he just can’t face the idea that you are no longer the world’s preeminent power.”

  “He’s a realist, General. We’ve known for decades that the era of wars between major powers was over. The destructive force of modern weapons is just too great. There would only be losers.”

  Takahashi smiled thinly. “Until now.”

  It was clear that he was referring to his nanoscale weapon and its ability to throw off the balance of power enough for him to get the upper hand.

  “No, sir,” Smith said. “I believe the potential for blowback from your weapon goes well beyond anything we saw during the Cold War. And I suspect that if you ask Dr. Ito, he’ll tell you the same thing.”

  “Scientists are never certain of anything, Colonel. They hedge, they equivocate, they overcomplicate. As a soldier, I expected more of you.”

  “I’m sorry to disappoint, General, but I’m not just a scientist, I’m one of the world’s leading experts on the consequences of biowarfare. That’s basically what you’re doing here. You’re creating artificial life and weaponizing it. You won’t be able to control it, sir. I guarantee that. If you feel you have to attack China, do it. Nuke them. I imagine you’ve built quite an arsenal and have a way to deploy it that they’ll never see coming. But destroy Ito’s weapon and everything relating to it.”

  Takahashi didn’t react other than to tap one of the feeds on the tablet. It depicted an empty meadow probably only twenty yards in diameter. Smith focused on it but wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be looking for. A moment later a projectile flashed into view at the top of the frame. Dirt and rock were thrown into the air when it impacted the ground and the dust clouded the image.

  For a moment, he wasn’t sure what had happened, but then he noticed the broken metal parts strewn across the clearing: fins, a nose cone, broken chunks of a fuselage. It had been some kind of bomb, probably dropped from a high-altitude drone. But it hadn’t exploded. A dud? Had his side finally gotten a lucky break? Randi sure as hell couldn’t have missed that. She’d know that her operation was blown and get her people the hell out of there.