The Poksu Conspiracy (Post Cold War Political Thriller Book 2)

by Chester D. Campbell

  Burke had read Jerry's personnel file, noting his DEA career that had been interrupted by a gunshot wound, giving Worldwide Communications Consultants an opportunity to recruit him. One point that impressed Burke was Jerry's high scores on his management profile. "You'll do okay. I don't plan to be there very long, anyway. Just enough to get you in full swing. I've got to be back here before Christmas. My wife's expecting around then."

  "I heard about that. Congratulations. I'm afraid I've spent too much time knocking around the back alleys and backwoods of the Far East the past few years. I haven't even thought about a wife, much less kids."

  "No girlfriends to leave behind?"

  "Afraid not."

  Just as well, thought Burke. He'll have his hands full in Seoul with this atomic nightmare. He looked capable of handling the situation, though. Jerry was slightly shorter than Burke, lean and lithe, with muscles that appeared as solid as a chunk of brass.

  "I noticed in your file that you came from around the same neck of the woods as I did," Burke said. "I spent five years up in the Smokies, out from Gatlinburg."

  "The hell you did. Man, that's God's country."

  "I'll buy that. But tell me how a Chinese family came to land in Clinton, Tennessee?"

  Jerry laughed. "Sounds a bit odd, huh? My dad was a nuclear physicist at Oak Ridge National Laboratories. He had the peculiar idea that my sister and I should be reared with the more down-to-earth values and simple approaches to life you'd find in a small rural town. "

  Jerry said the alternative to Clinton was a house among the hills and valleys around Oak Ridge, the Atomic City, that were home to more PhD's, high-powered physicists, chemists and engineers, along with their wunderkind, than an ordinary mortal could imagine. Dr. Chan was inordinately proud of his adopted country. He was determined that his children should be exposed to plain everyday Americans, those pretentiously referred to as "common folk" by the self-declared elite.

  Burke's eyes widened. He had missed the elder Chan's backgrouind. "Ah ha. Let's talk about that when we get back to the office." Jerry wouldn't likely know much about what his father did at the nuclear weapons laboratory, but it might have prompted a curiosity to learn as much as he could about the subject. That would certainly be a plus.

  The small briefing room at the huge State Department complex in Foggy Bottom had large, colorful maps hung about the walls. Otherwise, the furnishings appeared styled in government drab. Gregory Vanderpool, deputy director of the Korean Desk in the Bureau of East Asian and Pacific Affairs, stood behind a lectern in his stylish three-piece gray suit, well-trimmed gray hair, combed and sprayed, spectacles in gray plastic frames. He stared at the two men who sat in front of him. They had introduced themselves as Burke Hill and Jerry Chan.

  "I understand you gentlemen will be opening a branch of your public relations firm in Seoul," Vanderpool said, eyeing them coolly, his arms folded. "I have been asked to brief you on some items of which you should be aware."

  As he spread open his folder, the diplomat considered the two men who sat facing him. The order for the briefing had come down from the senior undersecretary, the number two man in the State Department. Somebody was using heavy influence. As he understood it, the firm these two represented would be launching a campaign designed to encourage Koreans to look more favorably upon American goods and services. That was a laudable goal, but one for which he gave them little chance for success. Vanderpool was a career bureaucrat. He had serious misgivings about non-diplomatic personnel involving themselves in foreign manipulations, areas that should be the exclusive preserve of the Department. Instead of two serious American businessmen devoted to the best interests of their country, he saw seated before him two private sector cowboys about to be loosed in the diplomatic arena.

  "Korean-American relations are currently undergoing serious review on both sides," Vanderpool said with typical understatement. "The new Kwak government has embarked upon what is known as the Seventh Republic. His Democratic Unity Party won election under the banner of reunification with the North and a reduction of outside influence. They have moved fairly rapidly on both fronts. Following the fortuitous deaths of President Kim and his son, Kwak has begun talks with the considerably demoralized remnants of the government of the Democratic People's Republic. We think it very likely he will achieve agreement on some form of unification in the near future. The very fact that the North no longer offers any credible threat has allowed him to lower his guard. This, of course, permitted our government to follow through on a policy we had long desired, that of bringing home the last of our armed forces. As you know, we have maintained a large contingent of troops over there, at great cost, I might add, ever since the Korean War began."

  Burke Hill nodded and said, "We're particularly interested in the second part of the Democratic Unity Party's platform, reducing outside influence. What, exactly, does that mean, Mr. Vanderpool?"

  The diplomat began to chart a rather circuitous path to the answer. "From the outset of its efforts to rebuild its economy, South Korea was forced to depend heavily upon outside help. The country has no natural resources. Petroleum is nonexistent. Metal ore deposits are few. Anthracite coal is present in relatively small amounts. Due to the mountainous nature of most of the peninsula, there is limited space available for agriculture and animal husbandry. The nation possessed only a large pool of workers, people willing to give maximum effort over long periods of time, and a cadre of forward-thinking, innovative entrepreneurs."

  He pointed out that GNP growth had reached as high as 12 percent some years, adding that Korea would soon be considered a developed nation if they continued to reach their projections. However, one problem they faced was overdependence on the United States. More than 40 percent of their trade had been with the U.S. The Kwak government appeared to be seeking to resolve that problem by shifting their emphasis toward trade with Europe.

  "They have also concluded a trade agreement with Israel," he said, "although the way I read it, I doubt there will be any great advantage to this."

  "We're all familiar with Nike and Hyundai," Hill said. "And I see lots of Gold Star TVs at K-Mart. Are these the main product lines they export?"

  "Textiles and footwear are being downplayed now. Those are more suitable for less developed countries. In recent years Korea has been targeting high-technology and capital-intensive industries like machinery, automobiles, electronics. The Pohang Iron and Steel Company is the second-largest steel producer in the world. Up to now, the U.S. and Japan have provided the bulk of Korea's sources of supply, private investment, technology, economic assistance and export markets. They apparently want to reduce this influence, shift it to other areas, spread the risk, if you will."

  Jerry Chan spoke up. "Isn't that a reflection of a growing sense of nationalism? Haven't all those student demonstrators been demanding it?"

  Vanderpool frowned. Student demonstrators were unruly and anarchic. He detested anything that interfered with the established order. "The stronger and healthier the economy becomes, the more pressure there is for nationalism," he said, leaning on the lecturn as he considered a further clarification. "The younger generation was not around to observe what America did for them during the Korean War. They are inclined to view their economic success as totally self-produced. Indeed, they do tend to be nationalistic. By contrast, their elders have always painted themselves as downtrodden, demanding preferential treatment from us. As for Japan, the Koreans appear to expect eternal compensation for past aggression."

  By the time they thanked Mr. Vanderpool and left, Burke and Jerry had a pretty clear picture of what they faced. A new government bent on reshuffling the cards, changing the equation among its old allies. Instead of the fair-haired boys that Americans had been for the past forty years, they could expect an uncertain reception in Seoul. The Korean desk man had suggested they contact the American Embassy on arrival and seek a more detailed account of the current situation. The diplomats on the scene, he said,
could provide them a more accurate picture of specific problems they might encounter.

  Chapter 15

  Back at Worldwide's Sixteenth Street sanctum, they took the opportunity to become a bit better aquainted while relaxing in Burke's office over cups of Evelyn's coffee. It wasn't merely an idle boast about hers being better than Toni Carlucci's. Maybe it had to do with the filters, he speculated idly as Jerry related details of an operation he had carried out from Chiangmai, the bustling old walled city in northern Thailand, just below the Golden Triangle.

  Evelyn interrupted on the intercom. "The Chief wants you and Mr. Chan to come meet some fellow he has in his office. Shall I tell him you're busy?"

  Burke winced. "You want to get us both fired?"

  "Just thought I'd test your independence," she said with a snicker.

  "You ready to take me to raise?"

  "Sorry, boss. Not with twins on the way."

  He shook his head with a grin of resignation. "Come on, Jerry. The Chief wants a powwow. No doubt it concerns HANGOVER." Jerry had been briefed on everything about the operation except its origin. Only a handful of people had knowledge of the Korean-Israeli protocol.

  As they walked down the hall, Jerry turned to Burke, his face shadowed by a cloud of uncertainly. "I've only talked briefly with Mr. Highsmith. He asked some pretty sharp questions. I hope there's no problem."

  Burke patted him on the shoulder. Jerry was only thirty-four, but he had a lot of mileage behind him. "Don't worry. Nate picked you for the job. That means he's got the utmost confidence in you."

  Toni Carlucci looked up as they entered. "Hello, Mr. Hill, Mr. Chan. I hope I didn't disturb anything. Mr. Highsmith wants you to meet someone from out-of-town. Please have a seat and I'll tell him you're here." She lifted the phone as they sat in the plush, modern chairs arranged around a low table stacked neatly with magazines and brochures.

  Burke picked up a recent news magazine and started to thumb through it. A headline caught his eye: "President Kwak Says Good-Bye, Thinks Good Riddance." The article told about the last U.S. Forces Korea commander leaving Seoul. There was a photo of the American general shaking hands with Kwak Sung-kyo. Burke studied the picture. The Korean president was certainly not an imposing figure. He was a stooped, elderly man with a face devoid of emotion. The article called him one of a succession of ex-generals who had led South Korea since shortly after the war. Kwak had been in retirement when the new party was formed and chose him as its presidential candidate.

  The electronic tone of Toni's intercom sounded. She lifted the phone, then turned to Burke. "Mr. Highsmith is ready for you.'

  Burke ushered Jerry Chan into the big office, where they found Nathaniel Highsmith and a tall, thin man with a pronounced mustache and a stubby black beard. He had the self-assured, somewhat self-important air that Burke ascribed to academics. He also had a pair of hands that seemed to require constant motion.

  "Burke Hill, Jerry Chan," Nate said, "let me introduce Dr. Robertson Ramsey, senior fellow with the Highsmith Foundation."

  After the smiles and the handshaking, they sat down around Nate's desk.

  "Dr. Ramsey has done considerable study on the subject of nuclear nonproliferation," Nate explained. "I told him that you two are going over to Korea to work on bolstering the American image. I thought it would be a good idea for you to understand as much as possible about the sources of friction between the two countries. Dr. Ramsey can explain what happened in the nuclear field."

  "Yes, thank you, Mr. Highsmith," said the professor, hands toying with the Phi Beta Kappa key that hung from a tie clip.

  Charitably, Burke gave him the benefit of the doubt. The movement was probably unconscious rather than an attempt to call attention to the distinctive adornment.

  "Most people aren't aware of it," Dr. Ramsey began as if addressing a graduate seminar, "but Korea was the site of one of the earliest atom bomb projects. It was located in the hills above Hungnam, a port on the Sea of Japan up around the fortieth parallel. That is part of North Korea now, of course. The Japanese were frantically working on their bomb there when the clock ticked down on them in August of 1945."

  Having established his credentials as a historian, he shifted gears. "As to the events you are interested in, the problem dates back to 1970, when President Nixon announced that he was pulling a division of U.S. troops out of South Korea. The Seoul government had continued to regard the massive military strength of the North as a major threat ever since the armistice. President Park Chung-hee and his generals panicked at Nixon's announcement. Park formed a Korean Weapons Exploitation Committee, and it began to push for development of a nuclear arsenal. Missions were dispatched abroad to seek information and look for weapons components. They found a sympathetic ear in France and negotiated the purchase of a reprocessing plant."

  "What were we doing all this time?" Burke asked. He wondered how it might relate to the current situation.

  The professor was now twiddling a ballpoint pen in his fingers. "We were gradually putting on more and more pressure in an attempt to force them to halt their efforts. It was never really clear just how much the Koreans intended using it as a bargaining chip, a way of convicing us to forego further cuts in troop strength, and just how much was a genuine effort to acquire a defense in case we should pull out."

  "What's your opinion?" Nate asked.

  He smiled. "I don't think they were bluffing. Nevertheless, with the support of the Canadians, we ultimately pressured Park into dropping all nuclear weapons activities."

  Jerry Chan eyed him questioningly. "Did that put an end to it?"

  "Yes, but we nearly had the same problem again. President Carter revealed he would withdraw another division in 1979. But he wisely reversed himself when he was told the likely result. Park would have been under intense pressure to restart the program." Absently, he took a small black pocket diary from his coat and began to thumb through its pages.

  "Apparently that worry's behind us," Burke said. "The North doesn't appear to be a threat any longer."

  "Yes, quite true. It's a good thing, too. South Korea has been concentrating on a nuclear power program. It's an effort to cut down on the necessity for importing oil. They will soon have completed eleven nuclear power reactors with the help of U.S., French and Canadian firms. With all the spent uranium they produce, a reprocessing plant would give them enough material for an extensive weapons program."

  "Really?" Burke saw that he, Nate and Jerry had leaned forward in their seats, betraying a suddenly heightened interest in the subject. He doubted that Dr. Ramsey had noticed.

  "Certainly. You can reclaim about 500 pounds of plutonium a year from the average commercial power reactor."

  "But wouldn't they need a lot more than just a plutonium supply to build weapons?" Jerry asked.

  "Of course. But high-quality fissile material is the key ingredient. You can find simple weapons design technology on a library shelf. Likewise the physics of fission explosives. It's a near relative to the physics of plutonium-fueled fast breeders. The hardware isn't difficult to come by. With all the components in place, you could have a bomb ready in weeks."

  "A simple weapon?" Burke asked. "Not a complex one?"

  "Yes, I would have to agree there. Highly sophisticated weapons such as the warheads we build would be more difficult. You would need the delivery technology, as well. This would require a supply of knowledgable and experienced scientists and technicians, which I don't believe they possess."

  The three Worldwide Communications people had lapsed into an almost stunned silence when Dr. Ramsey added with a wide smile, "But as you said, Mr. Hill, fortunately that is something we no longer need worry about."

  Burke, Nate and Jerry looked at each other, forced smiles, and nodded.

  "Thank you very much for the information, Dr. Ramsey," Nate said quietly. "I'm sure it gives us a much better understanding of some of the feelings we're certain to encounter over there." When he stood behind his desk
, Dr. Ramsey rose to leave and Burke and Jerry got up to shake hands with him.

  The professor tapped his fingers together rapidly, eyes lighting up as though a bulb had been switched on behind them. "It just occurred to me, Mr. Highsmith, you should bring Dr. Cabot Lowing down to give these gentlemen a more extensive insight. He's been working on a project concerning Korea with a colleague in Seoul."

  "Good idea," Nate said. "I'll call him this afternoon."

  The professor shook his head. "No, no. I'm afraid that won't be possible. Dr. Lowing isn't due back at the Foundation until Monday."

  Nate shrugged. "That will be a bit too late." He turned to Burke. "We've moved your departure up to Saturday. Stay here and I'll explain in a minute."

  Nate ushered Dr. Ramsey out and then returned to his desk.

  "My friend at Foggy Bottom called to tip me off to something he thought might be of interest," Nate said with a smile that said he had found it not only interesting but significant.

  "What's that?" Burke asked, frowning.

  "The Embassy in Seoul is holding a media reception Tuesday evening. It should give you an opportunity to make some good contacts, meet some people who might prove quite valuable in the future."

  "So that's why we need to leave Saturday?" Burke's frown deepened.

  "That's right. I've had your reservations changed." Realizing Burke's frown was more than inquisitive, he asked, "That going to be a big problem for you?"

  "A problem. Not a major one, I guess. I'll have to change some plans." He had intended to fly to Jackson, Tennessee on Saturday and pick up the search for his son. With Lori's delivery date coming up about the time of his return from Korea, it would delay any further pursuit of that search until after the first of the year. He had held out the hope of locating Cliff in time to let him know he was about to become a half-brother. That would have to wait. This operation had begun to appear sure to put his personal life on hold.