Kim put down the phone and sat in silence for a few moments. But Pak was right: everything was in place. The only difference was that by giving the go-ahead now, North Korea would clearly be labelled the aggressor, rather than a sovereign nation defending its territory against an unprovoked attack. But would that make any difference in the long run? If their plans succeeded, the opinion of any other nation or international body would probably be irrelevant, because Korea would at last be united.
But, ultimately, the decision wasn’t his to make. He reached forward and picked up the red telephone.
Four minutes later Kim Yong-Su ended the call with a somewhat shocked expression on his face. He’d expected that the ‘Dear Leader’ would be disturbed by what he had to tell him, but he’d been completely unprepared for the screaming rage that had resulted.
He’d suggested caution, that the best option might be to try to entice the Americans or the British to carry out an attack somewhere else, or even for the North Koreans to fake an assault themselves, photographing the destruction of one of their airfields by missiles fired by their own military, and then claiming it was an act of aggression by the South Koreans. That would give them the excuse they needed to smash through the Demilitarized Zone.
The ‘Dear Leader’ had rejected this suggestion out of hand, and issued his own very specific instructions, and not for the first time Kim wondered at the man’s sanity. But an order was an order, and despite his personal misgivings, he had no doubt at all what would happen to him if he disobeyed. He sat at his desk for a few moments, collecting his thoughts, then picked up the telephone. His first call was to Pak Je-San, and he simply told him to implement Phase Two of ‘Golden Dawn’, immediately.
Then he dialled the number that gave him direct access to the commanding officer at the Chiha-ri missile base.
North Korea
North Korea’s planned assault strategy against its southern neighbour was simple, effective and comprehensive.
Western analysts believed the initial attack would probably be a form of electronic warfare, with highly trained North Korean hackers disrupting American computer-based communication links. That would be followed by assaults using the 120,000 North Korean special forces against specific American and South Korean military bases, airfields and the like. The main assault would follow, with sustained artillery barrages aimed at Seoul and other strategic targets lying close to the DMZ. And, whilst that was taking place, North Korean troops would swarm across the Demilitarized Zone through pre-prepared tunnels, dug deep underground, and emerge behind the Combined Forces Command lines. Estimates suggest there may be as many as twenty such tunnels running under the DMZ at present, some of them capable of handling up to 15,000 troops per hour.
That was the conventional view, and it was the battle plan that the Americans and South Koreans had formulated their own strategies to counter. In fact, the allied Operational Plan was simple enough in concept: the CFC forces would retreat in the face of the North Korean attack, giving ground as slowly as possible, while American reinforcements would be deployed to the south of the peninsula, and would then advance northwards, driving the attackers back.
The North Korean leadership in Pyongyang had always recognized that the main obstacle to their conquest of the South was America’s involvement. Despite their belligerent rhetoric, in a war with the United States, they knew North Korea would ultimately lose, simply because no small nation, no matter how dedicated and able its forces, can hope to defeat a superpower. The disparity in the sizes of their respective arsenals and military machines ensured this.
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 a
lternative 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 a
ssured 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
Foxbat Page 31
