That was why Pak Je-San’s plan called for the flight of the Taep’o-dong missile as an essential first step, because if they could convince the Americans that their involvement in the peninsula would lead to nuclear attacks on the superpower itself, there was a very good chance that the invasion of South Korea might succeed. American public opinion would surely force the government not to react?
But Pak Je-San had an additional string to his bow. When he’d explained his overall plan to the leadership in Pyongyang, he’d emphasized that the artillery bombardment of South Korea would ultimately be counter-productive. The ideal solution would be the elimination of a large proportion of the population of the South, but not the destruction of the country’s infrastructure, and he’d therefore tailored his plan to achieve this objective.
It was to be a four-stage process. First, assemble the troops ready to cross the Demilitarized Zone, either on the ground, while supported by tanks and armour, or through the tunnels. Second, destroy the CFC’s ability to repel the invasion. Third, launch an attack using short-duration chemical weapons targeted on the major centres of population in and around Seoul. Finally, send in the occupying force.
The troops were already in position, and the chemical weapons had been assembled and prepared for use. North Korea has always designed its chemical and biological weapons to be fired from howitzers and other artillery pieces, but inevitably these are relatively small and lightweight munitions. To ensure that Seoul suffered a devastating attack that would overwhelm the South Korean government and population, Pak Je-San had planned to use Scud missiles carrying the largest available chemical warheads. Six such weapons, he had calculated, would be enough, but these could only be launched once the North Koreans were certain the American Patriot anti-missile batteries had been eliminated as a viable defence.
And that was now in the hands of the commanding officer at Chiha-ri.
Oval Office, White House, 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington, DC
‘Mr President, we’ve had a message from the Enterprise. The captain reports that one of their Hawkeyes detected a four-aircraft raid approaching the North Korean missile bases.’
‘Good,’ the President nodded. ‘It looks like the Agency’s idea worked, General.’
Donald Sterling shook his head. ‘No, sir. The carrier also reports that the raid turned away from the coast at the last moment, apparently without releasing any weapons.’
‘That’s a fucking disaster,’ interrupted the Secretary of Defense, his voice loud and angry. ‘If those missiles are still on the launch pads, Japan’s at risk, and there’s nothing we can do about it.’
‘We could still—’ General Sterling began, but was interrupted by the ringing of one of the telephones on the President’s desk.
‘Just a moment, Don.’ The President picked up the phone and listened for a few seconds. ‘OK, send them in.’
There was a brief double-tap on the door, and then Walter Hicks and Richard Muldoon entered the Oval Office.
‘You heard about the British chickening out?’ snarled the Secretary of Defense.
‘No. What happened?’
Sterling explained about the signal from the Enterprise. When he’d finished, Hicks and Muldoon exchanged glances.
‘It looks like somebody over there’s a lot smarter than we are,’ Hicks said.
‘You need to explain that.’
‘We’ve got the latest analysis from N-PIC. It now looks like the No-dong missiles on the east coast launch pads are fakes.’
‘Jesus.’
‘We made those bases the highest priority for N-PIC, and we’ve had as near continuous surveillance as is possible within the constraints of the Keyhole system. We’ve analysed the images, and we’re sure the missiles on the pads are real No-dongs, but everything else suggests they’re not armed or fuelled. We’ve seen fuelling apparently taking place, but there’s been no change in the temperature of the missiles, which means although the hoses were connected, no fuel was actually transferred.
‘And we’ve got suspicions about the warheads as well. They looked right in the satellite photographs, but the maintainers handling them weren’t all wearing protective clothing and at Mayang, in particular, mounting the warhead took far longer than we would have expected.’
‘Maybe they had a problem with it,’ the President said.
‘Maybe they did, sir, but the alternative explanation is that they wanted us to see and recognize the warhead, to convince us that the missile was being prepared for launch against Japan. It’s significant that the North Koreans usually keep their aircraft and missiles under cover until they’re ready to actually launch them, but at these four bases the No-dongs have been sitting visible on the pads for the last couple of days. We think these four missile sites were chosen deliberately, because they’re near the coast and relatively easy to attack, and that therefore Pyongyang’s intention was to entice us to hit them, because that would provide the excuse they needed to cross the DMZ into South Korea. They could then claim they were acting in self-defence, following an unprovoked attack by us or the South Koreans.’
‘Devious bastards. So what happened with the British Harriers? Did somebody get a message to them?’
‘We’ve no idea, sir. It’s possible someone on the British carrier put two and two together, or maybe one of the pilots worked it out. That doesn’t matter. What’s chiefly important is that the raid didn’t happen.’
‘So what now?’
‘We’re not out of the wood yet, obviously. The North Koreans may not have obtained the excuse they’d like to start an invasion, but that doesn’t mean they won’t go ahead anyway. In fact, we’re reasonably certain that’s exactly what they’re intending.’
‘You’ve got evidence to back up that assertion?’ the Secretary of Defense asked.
‘Yes, sir. We’ve seen troops, tanks and armour at North Korean bases moving towards the DMZ and then holding position, presumably waiting for the word to advance. We’ve detected other foot-soldiers entering what we believe are tunnels running into South Korea, and there’s a lot of activity in the coastal areas on both sides of the peninsula. We think they could be groups of special forces preparing to infiltrate south of the DMZ. But what concerns us most, Mr President, is this.’
Walter Hicks opened his briefcase and took out half a dozen black-and-white photographs. ‘These pictures are less than one hour old. This is the North Korean base at Chiha-ri, just north of the DMZ, and we believe this object here’ – he pointed – ‘is a modified HY-2 Seersucker cruise missile. It’s mounted on a trailer and they’re just moving it into the hardened shelter.
‘The weapon’s a Chinese development of the old Russian P-15 Styx anti-ship missile, and it’s been exported to a number of countries including Iraq and North Korea. Pyongyang’s been playing about with these since the early nineties. Back in ninety-four they test-flew one that covered a hundred miles, and three years later they’d increased the range to over one hundred twenty miles. That’s when our military christened the weapon the AG-1.
‘Until now we’d no idea what else they’ve been doing with the Seersucker, but these pictures suggest they’ve succeeded in developing a land-based variant, and that’s real bad news. It’s an old design, but it’s still a serious weapon. It’s big and bulky, but for the North Koreans that’s actually an advantage, because they can put whatever they like in it – different guidance system, bigger fuel tanks or whatever – without having to modify the basic shape.’
‘What are we talking about here in terms of payload and performance? And will the PAC-3 Patriot batteries south of the DMZ be able to engage it?’
Hicks shook his head. ‘To answer your second question first, Mr President, probably not, because of its flight profile. The Patriot’s very good at intercepting medium- and high-level targets, but it was never designed to engage fast low-flying targets like cruise missiles. It’s not generally known, but in March and April two thousand three, during
the Second Gulf War, the Iraqis fired five obsolete Chinese-built cruise missiles into Kuwait. There were no casualties, and the damage they caused was minimal, but the Patriot radars never even saw them.
‘As for the Seersucker’s performance, the original HY-2 had a liquid-fuelled motor that gave it just subsonic performance – about Mach zero decimal nine – and a range of about sixty miles carrying a thousand-pound warhead. Its avionics were quite sophisticated, with a radio altimeter, TV guidance system, infrared seeker head and active radar guidance as it closed with the target.
‘Those data are based on the Chinese version from the early nineties – I’d be prepared to bet serious money that the North Koreans have made significant improvements in almost all areas. We already know they’ve doubled its effective range.’
‘What do you think they intend doing with them?’
‘If I was running this operation,’ General Sterling answered the question, ‘I’d prepare three or four, strap a low-yield nuclear weapon on each of them and set them to air-burst over South Korea on a line running east–west through Seoul. That would pretty much wipe out the CFC’s computers and communication systems and everything else that runs on printed-circuit boards. Then I’d use artillery to soften up the enemy troops, and send in the army. And there wouldn’t be a damn thing we could do to stop it.’
Cobra and Viper formation, Sea of Japan
‘November Alpha, Cobra Leader. We’re heading back to Mother and leaving the tactical frequency for our discrete. We’ll listen out on Guard.’
‘Cobra Leader, roger.’
‘Cobras and Vipers, stud six, go.’
In a few seconds, all four pilots had checked in on their private frequency.
‘Cobra Two from Leader. You are sure about this? We’re going to look like a bunch of real wimps if you’re wrong.’
‘I’m sure,’ Richter said, with a confidence that was only slightly forced. ‘Nothing else makes sense, as far as I can see. We’ll check out the satellite imagery when we get back, but I’m betting there’ll be no sign of fuel going into those No-dongs. They were just bait.’
‘I hope you’re right.’
USS Enterprise, North Pacific Ocean
‘Where are they now?’ Rodgers asked, as he walked back into the CIC. ‘Here, sir. Just passing to the east of the DMZ. They’re now at high level, around thirty-five thousand feet and doing about three hundred and fifty miles an hour. It looks like they’re just going home.’
‘Right. Where are the Prowlers and Hornets?’
The operator pointed out two sets of contacts, established in holding patterns well outside North Korean radar coverage. ‘Do you want them recalled, sir?’
‘No, keep them out there. This isn’t over yet.’
Chiha-ri missile base, North Korea
With no small degree of satisfaction, the commanding officer looked around the missile preparation area inside the tunnelled-out shelter. The three HY-2 cruise missiles, mounted on trailers that also held the firing control panels, were almost ready. Technicians swarmed over them making last-minute checks, but all the flight and avionics systems – and, most important of all, the payload – had checked out and he was certain there’d be no delays when the order to launch them was given.
And behind the three HY-2s were six Scud type B missiles, each topped by a warhead containing fifty frangible bomblets full of sarin gas. The cluster was designed to be released some two thousand feet above the ground, ensuring that the nerve gas – lethal in doses as low as one milligram for an average adult – would be dispersed over a reasonably wide area. Predicting the likely death toll had been no better than a guess because of the huge number of variables in the equation, but Pyongyang was hoping for between five hundred thousand and one million casualties.
So it would fall to the dedicated team at Chiha-ri to strike not only the first blow against the capitalist lackeys in Seoul and their treacherous American friends, but also the second. For the commanding officer, it was more than just an honour: it was the culmination of his life’s ambition.
Pyongyang, North Korea
Kim Yong-Su had one task left to perform, for his own protection. He started the tape recorder running, then lifted the receiver of the red telephone and waited for the soft voice he knew so well.
‘Yes, Kim?’
‘Everything is ready. The commanding officer at Chiha-ri has assured me that the cruise missiles are prepared. Pak Je-San’s Foxbat interceptors are fully fuelled and armed, and are waiting for take-off instructions. This is the last point at which we can stop “Golden Dawn”. Do you still wish to proceed?’
The ‘Dear Leader’ hesitated for no more than a few seconds. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘You may issue the final orders.’
‘Very well.’
But before he used his other telephone to make the calls that would order the assault to begin, Kim Yong-Su removed the cassette tape from the recorder, labelled it and then stored it away in his personal safe. Only then did he consult the paper in front of him and dial the first of the numbers on the list.
T’ae’tan Air Base, North Korea
Pak Je-San put down the telephone with a certain sense of relief. Save for the failure of either the Americans or South Koreans to attack the dummy missiles prepared at the east coast bases, his plan had worked exactly as anticipated. So now it was time for the final act.
He made three short telephone calls to the airfields at Kuupri, Nuchonri and Wonsan in turn, then picked up the microphone and broadcast the order he’d been longing to give for the last six months.
Then he walked across to his office window and stared out. He couldn’t see into the tunnelled-out shelters, but already he could hear the rumble as their armoured doors began to slide open, and a couple of minutes later the first of the Foxbats emerged, towed by a tractor. Ten minutes later, the last of the aircraft was pulled onto the hardstanding, and five minutes after that the first MiG-25 roared down the runway and into the air.
And now all Pak Je-San could do was wait.
Chapter Twenty-One
Monday
Cobra and Viper formation, over South Korea
‘Cobra Lead, November Alpha on Guard. Request you chop back to tactical.’
‘Roger. Cobras, Vipers, stud four, go.’
As soon as all four aircraft had checked in, the AEW Sea King radar operator passed a hostile contact report that was remarkably similar to his previous broadcast issued when the four Harriers had been approaching their targets on the east coast of the peninsula. He had detected multiple contacts taking off from North Korean airfields. The difference this time was that only four air bases were involved, and all the aircraft were climbing to high level.
In all, the bagman reported that he was holding twenty-one contacts on his radar screen. What he didn’t yet know was what those aircraft were intending to do.
MiG-25 Foxbat, callsign Zero Six, over North Korea
Lieutenant Gennadi Malakov levelled his Foxbat at just under thirty-two thousand feet and glanced to his right and slightly behind. His wingman was holding position about two hundred metres away, exactly where he expected him to be.
Malakov was a recruit from the Russian Air Force, lured to North Korea by the promise of financial independence, though the chance to shoot down one – or, better still, several – American aircraft had encouraged his decision to become a mercenary.
He couldn’t see the rest of the formation under his command but he knew they’d be behind and above him. The pilots had been briefed to fly as three groups of seven aircraft, separated by about one thousand feet of altitude, but until the attack order came all twenty-one MiG-25s would operate as a single entity.
When in service with the Russian National Air Defence Force, the MiG-25 functioned as a ‘manned missile’. The interceptor was fitted with Vozdookh and Lazur radio equipment, and these were integrated with the MiG-25’s Polyot inertial navigation system. The combined package allowed ground controllers to ve
ctor the aircraft to a target or patrol area automatically. Only when about to carry out the interception did the pilot switch on the massive RP-25M Saphir radar – second only to the MiG-31’s Zaslon in terms of output power, and known in the West as Fox Fire.
In North Korean service, the same philosophy was followed but, lacking the appropriate ground-based equipment, positive control had to be exercised by the radar stations using radio commands.
‘Zero Six formation, Chunghwa. Make your heading zero one zero, speed six hundred kilometres an hour.’ The voice of the controller was clipped and precise.
‘Zero Six.’
The entire formation turned onto a northerly heading and reduced speed to conserve fuel. The course they were following would take them almost as far north as the border with China before they made the turn towards the DMZ, but this was quite deliberate. Pyongyang had specially instructed that the Foxbats were to remain over North Korea, and well north of the DMZ, until after the first attack had been launched. This was simply to ensure that the MiG-25s would be well clear of the blast radius when the three nuclear devices exploded.
USS Enterprise, North Pacific Ocean
‘Captain, sir, JTIDS is showing multiple launches from four North Korean airfields. Twenty… no, twenty-one contacts presently all heading north. This could be a first wave of bombers forming up to head across the DMZ.’
But in seconds the speed and rate of climb now being detected made it clear that the aircraft had to be fighters.
‘Heading north makes no sense, so once they get high enough they’ll turn south. Where are the British aircraft?’
‘Here, sir, over South Korea, due east of Ch’orwon. But won’t the Brits spot them on their radar?’
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