by Van Torrey
Anne’s weak attempts at hiding her sadness about President Braxton had not gone unnoticed to the observant Bernie Lyon. His snide remark came more out of frustration with the overall direction their marriage had taken in the past months than anything of the moment.
Their marriage had survived many years of multiple separations incidental to Bernie’s life as a U.S. Navy SEAL Commander. Anne had made adjustments to accommodate his absences. Then Bernie had gone missing and was declared dead. After a funeral and burial of a coffin at Arlington, Anne had struggled to return to her life alone. Two years later Bernie was discovered to be alive and held prisoner in a Pakistani prisoner of war compound. A daring raid by Navy SEALs and Army Rangers resulted in a dramatic rescue of Bernie and two others.
Bernie and Anne were now together continuously, and artificially so, by virtue of Bernie’s unexpected return to life. This transition had required substantial and difficult adjustments on the part of both.
In spite the good faith efforts at reunification made by Bernie and Anne after his dramatic and unexpected release from the Pakistani prisoner-of-war compound two years earlier, it had been a rocky road negotiating the fits and starts of reforming their life.
Overhanging everything was their mutual knowledge of Anne’s personal relationship with President Jonathan Braxton that had evolved after the notification of Bernie’s presumed death and subsequent posthumous award of the Congressional Medal of Honor.
Anne had struggled with the appropriateness of her timing and the ethics of beginning a new relationship so soon after the notification of Bernie’s death. She frequently assuaged her feelings of guilt by rationalizing that she and Bernie had war-gamed this possibility several times in their marriage, and he had been consistently adamant about insisting that in the event of his death Anne was to go on with her life, even with a new companion. With this most unusual turn of events however, it soon became apparent to both that the gulf between theory and implementation was filled with unintended consequences.
Anne regained her composure and sat upright on the couch, wiping her eyes and swiping back her hair. “That was a low blow, Bernie,” she said softly, almost as an afterthought. “Yes, I’m glad you’re back and, yes, I’m sad that Jonathan Braxton is dead. What point is there in pretending? We’ve been through this a dozen times now. I’m sorry, Bernie. I’ve tried to compartmentalize this, but I guess I’m not doing a very job of that. It’s not fair to you.”
“Well, sometimes I have to wonder about the quality of grieving you did over me...” as he pulled himself up short.
After a moment Bernie continued, “I’m sorry,” he immediately corrected, “that was selfish of me and uncalled for,” he said apologetically.
Anne did not reply to the last remark, instead walking over to a window and looking out absently over the busy street scene below. God, how long will this go on? She thought. We just keep going over the same things day in and day out. It’s like a festering wound to both of us.
After a few silent moments, Bernie said, “Here, Anne, I brought some Chinese take-out. Come get it while it’s hot.”
Anne turned and looked at Bernie with an expression of sorrowful resignation and replied, “Perfect! Here we are watching the funeral of our President who has just been murdered in China eating Chinese takeout! Bernie, your lack of sensitivity is unbelievable.”
“Chinese, pizza, left-overs, whatever! What’s the difference, Anne? Frankly, I’ve had enough of the sentimentality we’ve been experiencing here for the past few days. It just opens wounds that are just beginning to heal after all this time.”
“Okay, Bernie, get the rest of it out. I know there’s more in there, and I want to hear it all. Let’s deal with this one more time,” she demanded.
“I’m just saying that this unwarranted grief you’re expressing for Braxton is creeping me out. If you were so in love with the guy why didn’t you just tell me that when I got back, and we would have both gone our separate ways. I would have adjusted and apparently you would have been a whole lot happier.”
Anne sat down quietly and thought there was a kernel of truth in what Bernie had just said. Careful, girl, this is an ideal time for you to say something you’ll regret later, she thought grimly. Think before you say something ugly. The fact was she had loved Jonathan Braxton and was not apologetic about it. However, to her credit, she had been the pro-active force in determining for certain that Bernie and his comrades were captives and had been instrumental in getting them released. Yes, they would probably have eventually come home, but when and in what condition? Her conscience was as clear as possible in that respect.
“Okay, Bern, I acknowledge your resentment. I guess I could have just gone over to my sister’s and bawled my eyes out for a couple of days, but you would have seen through that, too. So I elected to low-key that here. I’m sorry I couldn’t camouflage it better.”
“Well, at least you’re being honest about it,” he retorted smugly.
“Honest? Honest?! Are you implying that I haven’t been honest up to now? Like all of a sudden I’ve made a decision to be HONEST with you? Puleeze!” Anne responded disarmingly.
“Well, I didn’t mean you hadn’t been honest,” Bernie said defensively.
“Look, Bern, I know I have to be accountable for my actions and behavior, and I accept that. But I can’t be held accountable for my emotional make-up. There’s a difference. I am a woman, perhaps doomed by my DNA and emotional chemistry, just as you men are ruled by, and in some cases doomed by yours. When I knew you were coming home, I blasted through a rat’s nest of conflicted feelings and made the decision to stick with you out of a sense of ethics and, yes, out of love for you. You could write a book about what we have been through and no one would believe it. But here we sit in the here and now trying our damndest to deal with it. There’s a lot of stuff here, Bernie, but lack of honesty isn’t part of the pile.”
“Okay, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Bernie responded with characteristic bluntness that meant that the conversation was essentially over.
The rest of the day passed swiftly as a silent, if uneasy, truce hung over the Lyon household. Both Bernie and Anne were grateful for the backdrop of the last vestiges of Jonathan Braxton’s funeral. The television, in its final stages, consisted primarily of the news media interviewing various politicians eager to stand in front of a camera to make banal remarks about the day’s solemn events that would be well received back home. For today only, as he was so ceremoniously buried, former President Jonathan Braxton had no political foes.
CHAPTER 14
EMISSARIES TO BEIJING
“Any excuse will serve a tyrant.”
Aesop (The Wolf and the Lamb)
*
Word of President Braxton’s assassination had reached General Fhang in pieces as he worked late in his office in the Executive Compound. At first came simply the message the U.S. President had been shot. Two hours later came the word Braxton was dead, and the assailant had been one of the people involved in the arms talks. Paranoia among officials in the North Korean hierarchy being what it was, no one wanted to pass on the bad news that the assailant had been a North Korean aide to Foreign Minister Lee, and that the Minister, himself, had taken his own life shortly thereafter. The lack of coherent information filtering back to General Fhang was a combination of a poorly staffed and functioning DPRK intelligence apparatus and, in the North Korean power culture, the fact that it was not unheard of for the messenger bringing unwelcome news to the Chongs, and now to General Fhang, to be severely punished.
Fhang was now faced with the reality that the talks were in shambles with the reason clearly being gross malfeasance and criminal behavior on the part of members of the North Korean delegation. There could be no rationalization on the part of General Fhang blaming real or imagined enemies of the DPRK conspiring against him to torpedo the talks. In just weeks after seizing power, Fhang was faced with his first diplomatic crisis. Unless h
e could convince members of the international community that he, as the new leader of North Korea, was not involved personally in directing the assault on the U.S. President by his surrogates, there could be dangerous repercussions reaching beyond the indefinite suspension of the arms talks.
One of the few people Fhang felt he could rely on for loyalty and sound advice was his deputy, General Rhee Jo-khi. Even at this late hour Rhee was also working in the executive offices as he was summoned by an agitated General Fhang.
“General, I assume you have heard the news reports filtering in from Beijing,” said Fhang grimly.
“Of course, General Fhang, I have been monitoring the American Internet. The news of Braxton’s death is the only topic at this time. The American media is falsely accusing our own diplomats of this murderous act, but what would one expect from them? They and our brothers to the south conspire against us at every turn, and...”
Fhang interrupted the posturing General Rhee impatiently and interjected, “Unfortunately, General Rhee, the reports of our diplomats being involved are true. There can be no question of that fact. We must now move into a damage control mode and try to contain this before the United States decides to retaliate against us. I think we can count on buying some time by virtue of the fact the new U.S. President must consolidate her position and formulate a strategy.”
“Should we place our troops on a higher state of alert, General?” asked Rhee, hoping to show solidarity with his new leader.
“Not at this time,” replied Fhang thoughtfully. “Such an action would be detected by South Korean intelligence and might be perceived as a further provocative act. In spite of the propaganda exported by the Chong regime, we are certainly in no position at this time to face South Korea militarily. No, we must try to defuse this by reassuring some of our neighbors that this was an act of cowardice by individuals acting independently of my supervision. That will be our excuse, if there is to be one.”
“Well, sir, in all respect, our relations with our neighbors since the...the change of leadership...have not been solidified. We really have no one to speak with diplomatically.”
“Except the Chinese, perhaps,” replied Fhang. “General Rhee, I want you to learn as much about this unfortunate event as you can, by whatever means. Report back to me before I send you to Beijing in two days to speak with their Foreign Minister as a vehicle to get an audience with their Premier. Perhaps one or both will then convey our regrets to the Americans and, in doing so, avoid a confrontation. I’m sure the Americans do not wish to hear from me directly as we have no diplomatic ties with them or the South Koreans.”
The next morning a diplomatic bag from Beijing arrived at the executive compound and was immediately taken to General Rhee. It contained an envelope addressed to General Rhee and sealed with a diplomatic eyes-only ribbon, indicating that whatever was inside came from Foreign Minister Lee. General Rhee quickly opened the envelope and began to read the letter:
Dear General Rhee,
By now you are aware of the events that took place in Beijing involving the American President. I want you and General Fhang to be aware that I orchestrated this entire scheme knowing full well the outcome for everyone involved. I regret the American President had to be the victim, but I felt that was necessary to make a political statement that would cause the greatest amount of difficulty for General Fhang.
Two days after I arrived in Beijing with the proposal I had prepared at the direction of General Fhang, I was in a conversation with one of the security men who were our watchers at the conference. He warned me about improperly socializing with the Americans or the South Koreans as the talks resumed. When I replied he had no control over me as the Foreign Minister, he became very angry and responded that I needed to watch my words and actions or I would suffer the same fate as my brother and, as he caustically described, “My lady friend.”
I assured him General Fhang himself had told me he was sending both of them to visit me soon here in Beijing. To that he simply laughed and said, “The dead do not travel.” Then he told me he doubted General Fhang knew the fate of a great many of those caught up in the purges he, himself, ordered after his rise to power.
Of course I was greatly saddened by this revelation and fell into deep despair, as I have no other family. As the days passed I soon began to realize I have nothing to return to in the DPRK, and I wanted to seek revenge as a response to General Fhang’s Brilliant New Light. The reality is General Fhang’s new regime will be nothing more than a warmed-over version of what the Chongs imposed on our people. All but a select few will remain nothing but malnourished slaves.
I was able to steal two guns from the Chinese Security office. It was a simple thing for me to bypass the American Secret Service checkpoint into the conference area because I was carrying a bag marked Diplomatic, which by mutual agreement, could not be opened. From there I hid a gun under the table where I was dining at the dinner and enlisted my aide in the conspiracy. His family had all died in the Korean War, and he had nothing but hatred for the Americans.
This letter was written before the dinner and placed in the diplomatic bag that was to go to Pyongyang the next day. I am assuming the plan worked and the President is dead. I plan to take my own life after the attempt on the American President’s life. I am proud of what I did for my country if this causes you pain.
Finally, for all the insults I endured from you and the disrespect I received from General Fhang, I wish you both long and painful deaths.
Lee Rho-yim
As difficult as it was for General Rhee to accept the contents of the letter he held in his hands, there now could be no question that what he had been told by General Fhang was the truth. Those few high-ranking members of the People’s Party and other notables who had access to the Internet and listened clandestinely to South Korean radio would know the truth regardless of the propaganda machine of General Fhang expressing North Korea’s non-involvement, and the rest of the world would now hold the DPRK in greater contempt diplomatically than ever before.
*
Two days later General Rhee, at the command of General Fhang, arrived in Beijing and was greeted by the North Korean Ambassador.
“Ambassador Jung, I hope you have been able to secure us an appointment with the Chinese Premier. General Fhang is most anxious to have me explain our reaction to these tragic events involving the U.S. President,” announced Rhee.
“In spite of the fact I requested an emergency meeting with the Foreign Minister, my efforts have met with only a stony silence by his office. Numerous calls to his Appointments Secretary have gone unanswered. I am afraid we are being ignored,” reported Jung.
General Rhee knew, intellectually, why the DPRK diplomat’s request was being ignored. The Chinese government had been monumentally embarrassed, and had lost face, by such a heinous act being perpetrated on their soil by rogue operatives of a rogue nation, viewed by many skeptics in the international community as nothing more than a client state of the Chinese. Still Rhee was, by nature of the culture in which his career evolved, unable to acknowledge that fact. Instead, he gave in to his baser instincts and lashed out at the DPRK Ambassador. “Ambassador Jung, General Fhang is being faced with many challenges as he presents the Brilliant New Light of a future Korea, unified under his leadership, to the world. He is counting on your expertise and diplomatic skills to maintain an open door with our most important ally. Apparently you have failed General Fhang and your duty to the Brilliant New Light! He will not be pleased when he is informed of this.”
“But General, up until the incident my...our...relations with the People’s Republic of China were quite good. Toward the end of the Chong regime we were frequently admonished by their foreign ministry to be less bellicose, but when I forwarded these communiques to Minister Lee they were not well received. In some respects I am simply a messenger,” Ambassador Jung responded defensively.
“Nothing more about the Chongs or Minister Lee!” shouted General Rhe
e. “That is an order from General Fhang, himself. You have not been sent here to be a lowly messenger, Jung. If you see yourself as one, perhaps we should end this charade right now.”
Ambassador Jung, knowing he was now on thin ice with Fhang’s second in command, and with the knowledge he and his family could be on their way to one of North Korea’s infamous labor camps at the slightest whim of General Rhee, was now beside himself with anxiety over his alleged misfeasance as ambassador. “General, I understand the importance of arranging a meeting with the Premier. I will redouble my efforts and attempt to make this happen as soon as possible. Perhaps if I could carry a written note from you suggesting the need for urgency...”
“Very well, Jung,” interrupted an agitated Rhee. “I will give you something when we reach the embassy. I am very tired and need to rest. You must, however, be relentless about getting me a prompt audience. Your job depends on it.”
Ambassador Jung knew that not only did his job depend on his success, but perhaps his life.
*
The Chinese were playing a waiting game with the North Koreans. In spite of the loss of face they had suffered at the hands of the conspiratorial North Korean Foreign Minister, the Chinese Premier and his deputies knew it was important to begin a dialogue with the new North Korean regime and this requested meeting represented a perfect occasion for a number of reasons. North Korea was requesting the meeting, not the Chinese. The Chinese would be talking from a position of strength as they knew that General Fhang’s emissaries were anxious to mend fences with their greatest benefactor over an event that had apparently been completely out of Fhang’s control. Establishing a dialogue with the DPRK leadership and then engaging the United States with solid information would help establish convincingly that the Chinese were not in on the plot that killed President Braxton. They saw this as an opportunity to use their good offices to help reduce the tensions incidental to that grotesque event.