by Dale Brown
There was a long pause; then: "How do you suggest we respond, Kun-mo?"
"A chemical weapons barrage, sir," Kim replied immediately. "It should be large enough to do great damage, but not enough to trigger a drastic retaliation or risk spreading to Korean territory. No nuclear weapons, unless the Chinese retaliate-we should not show our entire hand right away."
"General Kim," Kwon gasped, "did I hear you say you are recommending a chemical weapons attack . . , against China'?"
"Sir, they have launched a chemical attack on us--we must respond with equal force," Kim argued. "Besides, they have almost fifty thousand troops poised to attack us right now. There are no other weapons we can use short of nuclear weapons to stop them."
"Kim, listen to yourself!" Kwon shouted. "You are recommending mass murder! I will never agree to this unless our country is faced with imminent annihilation! Never! Now, give me another recommendation, and do it quickly!"
Kim Kun-mo shook his head in exasperation. "The chances of success are far worse, sir, unless we-"
"General, give me another recommendation now, or turn in your resignation!"
Kim swore under his breath, thought for a moment, then said, "Some of our short- and medium-range missiles are armed with fuel-air explosives, designed to clear minefields with overpressure-it creates a devastating punch in a relatively small area. I suggest we use weapons such as these, augmented with high-explosive or cluster munitions."
There was silence at the other end of the phone.
"Sir, we can call an emergency meeting of the cabinet," Kim suggested. "We can do it over the phone, or we can have you transported to the capital. We can wait-"
"We are talking about killing thousands of Chinese troops, General!" Kwon snapped. "Don't you think this requires a little consideration?"
"Sir, killing a few thousand Chinese troops is nowhere near an adequate punishment for the potential deaths of four million citizens of Pusan," Kim said.
There was more silence. In the background, Kim could feel the terror permeating the subway station and wondered what it would be like to die by chemical or biological weapons poisoning. Dead was dead, true, but would it not truly be more humane to die quickly, by a nuclear or fuel-air explosive burst, than die slowly, painfully, from the very air you breathe?
"Yes, I want the attack to proceed, on my direct orders," President Kwon Ki-chae said resolutely. "I take full responsibility for the consequences. The attack will commence against the Chinese forces you outlined immediately."
The attack was swift, concentrated, and deadly. A salvo of thirty Scud-A short-range rockets was fired from
Kangwon Do province south of the burned-out area of Wonsan, and Hwanghae Pukdo province near Songnim, south of Pyongyang. Each Scud-A rocket carried a small nonnuclear warhead weighing a little over one thousand pounds-but the warhead was one of the most devastating nonnuclear devices in the world.
Called a fuel-air explosive, the weapon was simply three bomblets filled with high-energy rocket fuel with an explosive detonator. As the warheads descended toward their targets, the bomblets were ejected one by one and descended via a small stabilizing parachute. An electronic fuse cracked them open, allowing the fuel to mix with air and disperse into a fine mist, and then the cloud was ignited by a small explosive charge. The resulting explosion was hundreds of times more powerful than its equivalent size in TNT, creating a fireball, a shock wave, and a mushroom cloud similar to a small nuclear detonation.
Anything aboveground within one hundred feet of the explosion was instantly incinerated; any unprotected human within one hundred and fifty feet was killed or suffered massive burns. The explosions devastated the Chinese forces garrisoned or bivouacked in the Changbai area, and fires broke out in the town itself, sending thousands of civilians fleeing their homes.
Of the more than thirty thousand troops in the area, nearly five thousand lost their lives instantly; another eight thousand suffered massive burns and other injuries. Death would come mercifully only to some of them; for many others, the agony would continue on for weeks, even months. Doctors would soon become mercy killers.
As had been the procedure since the end of the Korean War, either the president, the new vice president, or the prime minister had to man an underground command center during military alerts or times of crisis. Korean Vice President Pak Chung-chu, the former first vice president of North Korea, was in the Osan military command center with Minister of Defense Kim. Pak was watching in fascination and shock as the attack against the Chinese infantry commenced.
"When . . , when will we know how many casualties there are?" Pak asked.
"In Pusan? In Tonghae?"
"Linjiang, the Chinese troops along the border. The ones you are firebombing."
"You care more about the Chinese invaders than you do our own people, Mr. Vice President?" Kim asked derisively. "What is this infection of cowardice spreading through Government House these days? What is going on with you politicians? You all want to roll over and play dead."
"Don't be an ignorant pig-fucker, General," Pak retorted. "I want to see Korea protected from invasion as much as you!"
"Then why don't some of you damned politicians ever show it?"
"If this politician recalls correctly, you are a damned politician," Pak pointed out.
"In name only, Mr. Vice President-in name only." Kim looked at Pak for a moment, then nodded as if recognizing something in the vice president's face. "You were a military man yourself, if I remember correctly. Navy, right?"
"Correct," Pak said. "Moved from commanding a bilge in a little coastal patrol vessel to commanding the Yellow Sea fleet."
"Sent a few Communist commandos into the*South, I'll bet."
"Seventeen sorties in two years. Lost only one minisub and nine men. The Korean People's Army was much better then-and your forces were much worse. What is this all about, General?"
"Then you know what I'm talking about, sir," Kim said. "You know better than all of us that we cannot appear weak to the Communists, or they'll crush us. We have to say what we mean and act on it. Do you agree?"
"I have always said we should negotiate from a position of strength, yes," Pak said. "You have something on your mind, General? Spit it out."
"Do you think we should be tougher on China? Do you think we should be content with firing a few gasoline bombs into their encampments . . ."
"Fuel-air explosives are not exactly gasoline bombs, and you know it," Pak pointed out.
". . , or should we be targeting their air bases, their rear-echelon maintenance and logistics bases, and especially their command and control facilities, with special weapons? That's exactly what they tried to strike in Korea-and then added Pusan for good measure!"
"We still have not proved it was the Chinese who launched those attacks," Pak pointed out. "I agree that targeting the infantry at Linjiang is a good idea and a good preemptive strike, but don't try to paint this as a retaliatory strike. The Chinese probably didn't attack Pusan, and you know it."
"But China is the adversary! They need to fear us as they fear Russia and the United States. And the only way to force that is to strike at them with weapons of mass destruction. Don't you agree?"
"I agree that if we promise to use weapons of mass destruction if we are invaded, then yes, we should use them," Vice President Pak said. "The deterrence factor doesn't work if you don't deliver what you promise or threaten. And if China indeed attacked Pusan and the other cities, then yes, we should retaliate similarly. But President Kwon was correct not to use special weapons now! Why on earth did you push to launch a chemical weapons attack before we have all the facts?"
"Because acting timidly never works," Kim said. "If we are attacked, we retaliate, swiftly and powerfully. We need to be able to do that. But with Kwon, we may never be able to do it. The one problem we military leaders face is that all too often, war is left to the politicians, to men like Kwon Ki-chae."
"President Kwon is a great m
an, a great leader!"
"But he tempers his military decisions with political calculations that have nothing to do with the strategic or tactical realities," Kim said quickly. "A perfect example is the employment of our special weapons. With one-half of the necessary execution codes in Kwon's hands, we are all but assured that we will never get to use them. That is a monumental tragedy for our country, is it not?"
"I get it. I understand now," Pak said. "You want the codes. If the president balks at giving you authority to launch the next time, you want to be able to do it anyway. Correct?"
"If I did truly believe that Kwon would launch a nuclear attack against China if the time came, I would never suggest such a thing," Kim said. "But I cannot say that. I truly believe Kwon would hesitate-in fact, I think he has absolutely no intention of ever firing or even testing a special weapon. He would call an emergency cabinet or National Security Council meeting, perhaps even put it before the leadership in the legislature-but in the end, he would never do it."
"But you think I would."
"I know you would," Kim said resolutely. "Look what you have sacrificed to be standing here now. You would not want to see the Chinese march through
Pyongyang or Seoul again, as I'm sure you have seen once before. I don't think the Chinese would deal with you very gently."
"How perceptive of you," Pak said with an exasperated grumble. But he knew it was so. Pak Chung-chu had been a trusted member of the Communist Party in both North Korea and China. He had burned a major bridge behind him when he burned that party identification booklet. It was a formidable act not just of defiance, but of treason to the state-the Chinese would never let him live to forget it. "So. What is it you want to do? Assassinate him?"
"Don't be an idiot," Kim said-but Pak could see his eyes burning with excitement, and he thought, Yes, that's exactly what you want me to do. "But you can get the codes from him. You have joint custody of the codes."
"I only have them if the president is incapacitated, out of the country, out of communication with the command center, or voluntarily chooses to turn responsibility over to me for whatever reason," Pak said. "I do not 'jointly' control them.
"Nonetheless, you want me to march into Kwon's office someday-perhaps someday soon-and get the codes from him using whatever means or justification I care to invent or use. Correct?"
"You act so damn self-righteous about this," Kim said irritably. "I am not talking about treason-I'm talking about defending our country, our homeland. You certainly understand that."
"And because I betrayed President Kim Jong-il, I am somehow predisposed or more willing to do it again to President Kwon Ki-chae, is that it?"
"Dammit, you are impossible!" Kim exploded. "You know what I'm saying!"
"I want you to say it, General Kim," Pak snapped.
"Make no mistake-we are talking treason. We are talking about a violent, illegal overthrow of the legally elected government. We deserve to die at the hands of the people for what we are talking about doing.
"But it so happens, General, that I agree with you. Kwon will never use the weapons we possess. We would then all be overrun and crushed by China, and persons like myself, former citizens of North Korea and especially former Communist Party members, would surely die.
"What I want from you, General, is your word. If it is done, if we betray Kwon, take the codes, retaliate against whatever enemy we face, and somehow survive, I want your word that you will do everything in your power to support me as president of United Korea. I will in turn support you as vice president."
"I'll do better than that," Kim said. He pulled out a sheet of paper from his desk drawer and wrote and signed a message on it. "It's in writing now, Mr. Vice President. Will you do the same for me?"
"Don't you trust me-comrade?" Pak asked sardonically. Kim blanched, then turned angry again. Pak retrieved a piece of paper, wrote a similar message, then signed it with a flourish. "Now we're both condemned to hell, General," he said. "Care to join me in a drink to celebrate?"
THE WHITE HOUSE, WASHINGTON, D.C.
SEVERAL MINUTES LATER
Kevin Martindale was talking with Ellen'*Whiting when the telephone on his desk rang. Chief of Staff Jerrod Hale went over, looked at the flashing button, then froze. "You better take it, sir," Hale said. "It's Cheyenne Mountain."
"Oh, shit," the President muttered as he dashed over to his desk. "Jerrod, make an announcement, let's get a nose count going, alert the Secret Service that choppers may be inbound-you know the drill." Staff members of the White House and Old Executive Office Building had become well practiced lately in the art of rapid emergency evacuations.
The President picked up the phone, motioning for Philip Freeman to listen in on an extension in his study. He did not need to push a button-it was the most important button on the phone and would select itself. "This is the President. Go ahead."
"Sir, this is Lieutenant Colonel Gordon, senior controller, Space Command Missile Tracking Center. DSP 9 missile-warning satellite has detected several ballistic missile launches originating inside North Kor . . , er, sorry, inside the northern part of United Korea. I am secure."
"Damn it to hell," the President swore. "Korea is attacking China?"
"Negative, sir," the controller said. "The tracks are headed south. It appears the launches originated inside Korea and are targeted against the southern half of the peninsula. Fourth Space Surveillance Squadron radars indicate nine tracks total targeted within Korea and three tracks targeted against southern and central Japan." The Air Force Space Command's Fourth Space Surveillance Squadron's radars and tracking sites in Korea were now all manned by Korean technicians. Very few American servicemen still remained in Korea.
"Who the hell is launching those missiles?" the President demanded.
"Unknown, sir," the controller responded.
"Any reaction from China or Russia?"
"None, sir."
"Very well. Please alert me if any more launches occur." He hung up the phone. "Philip?" he called. "Explanation?"
"It's got to be some rogue ex-North Korean missile units," Freeman suggested, coming back into the Oval Office. "Most of North Korea's operational ballistic missiles were mobile. The big ones, the Nodong series, were rail-mobile; the smaller Scud series were all-terrain road-mobile. Apparently, some were able to escape the revolution and transition, find a presurveyed launch point, and fire in a coordinated attack. Mobile missiles are the hardest to find and relatively easy to disguise."
"Get President Kwon back on the phone right away and tell him I want to speak with him at once," Kevin Martindale said. "I don't want him retaliating against the Chinese."
About to call the White House Communications Center, Hale took another incoming call.
"What was that, Jerrod?"
"It's too late," Jerrod Hale said, his anger palpable. "Space Command says the Koreans fired back."
"Damn them all to he111" Martindale shouted. "Where? How many? What kind?"
"Unknown at this time, sir," Hale replied. "I'll get details right away."
"Shit. And we're as helpless as we can be," the President said. "Jerrod, make sure Space Command notifies the Japanese government. I want to talk with the Russians, Chinese, Koreans, and Japanese ASAP. Everyone has got to back off, or Asia is going to blow up in one big red fireball."
Another call came in: "Reports coming in, sir: Chemical weapons attacks against Kunsan and*Pusan. Vx nerve agents. Very high casualties. And State's also issued an emergency report, saying that a thermonuclear warhead exploded at high altitude a hundred miles north of Osaka, Japan," he said. "Japanese Self-Defense Force authorities claim the warhead was large, over three hundred kilotons. An evacuation of the entire area is under way."
"My God," the President said. "What about the Korean retaliation? What about the Chinese?"
"Stand by, sir, we're checking . . ." It took several minutes for further reports to come in. "Looks like Korea launched a small retaliatory s
trike against some Chinese armored and rocket divisions stationed along the China-Korea border," Freeman finally reported. "Short-range ballistic missiles only, a salvo of about twenty rockets, probably Scud- or FROG-7-series rockets-high-explosive, very high-powered, perhaps incendiary devices. No reports of .., stand by ... Now receiving reports of mushroom clouds . . ."
"Mushroom clouds! You mean the Koreans attacked China with nuclear weapons!"
"I'll get clarification of this, sir. Usually, we get more reliable reports than this of nuclear detonations. We also sometimes experience blackouts of nonhardened communications facilities. We got none of that this time."
"What could that mean?" the Vice President asked. "Did they try to hit the Chinese with nuclear weapons, and they didn't go off?"
"Or they weren't supposed to go off," Freeman suggested. "It could be a dangerous game of brinkmanship-threaten China with a nuclear retaliation without producing a nuclear yield."
"But why China?" the President asked. "Did China launch those missiles against Korea? The guy at Space Command I just talked to said the missiles came from inside Korea."
"The Korean military could have made a mistake .., or Kwon did it deliberately," Freeman offered. "We know China had massed several thousand troops along the border, and there were intelligence reports saying that Chinese air forces were conducting more cross-border flights, perhaps probing Korea's air defenses."
"So you think it's possible that Kwon was sending China a message-stay away or else?" the Vice President asked, astonished. "How suicidal can you get?"
"Suicidal, yes-but he succeeded in getting my attention, all right," the President said. "I don't see Kwon's hand in this-this smells like Defense Minister Kim's handiwork. If we had to set up an antiballistic missile system over the Korean peninsula, it looks as though we'd not only have to try to protect Korea from China, but protect China from Korea. There will be no winners in this game."
He turned to Freeman and motioned to the thick document they had been discussing earlier. "Greenlight this project, Philip. What is he calling it?"
"General McLanahan calls it Operation Battle Born, sir," Freeman replied. "That's the Nevada state motto, I believe."
