by Tom Clancy
“Please continue, Colonel Ward,” the President said.
The screen now showed a graphic representation of the launch, and the separation of the first stage of the rocket/missile. “We had a number of sensors in place to track the launch. Measurement and signature intelligence assets. From this we have put together what happened after the rocket cleared the launch pad. The first stage burned for approximately two minutes, burnout took place at one hundred twenty kilometers altitude over the east coastline of North Korea above the city of Tanchon, and there was good separation. The second-stage burnout occurred at three hundred fifty kilometers over the Sea of Japan. The rocket then apparently malfunctioned before third-stage separation, there was a catastrophic failure, and it crashed into the Sea of Japan, eighty miles west of Sapporo.”
Ryan was more than pleased by the failure, but he knew the diplomatic fallout from Japan would be near equal to the nuclear yield of the device if it had been armed.
Scott Adler was thinking the same thing. “I’m sure Tokyo isn’t too thrilled about the wreckage coming so close to their mainland.”
Jay Canfield replied, “I’ll bet they are pissed. As far as I’m concerned, though, that’s better than it plowing into Seattle or San Fran.”
Ryan continued to address Ward. “Any idea what went wrong?”
“MASINT, that’s measurement and signature intelligence, detected an abnormal flare after second-stage burnout but before separation. We will be running tests for some time, but it looks like it was something we call a ‘staging failure.’ It is not uncommon, especially for the DPRK. The last time they launched an Unha-3 they lost it at first-stage separation, so this time they got a little further.”
“What was the duration of the flare?” Ryan asked.
The colonel was obviously surprised by the question. He looked down to his sheet, then quickly began shuffling papers in front of him. The major sitting at her iPad scurried a bit as well, before finding what she was looking for. She pushed a page to Colonel Ward.
“Sorry for the delay, Mr. President. The flare lasted approximately two seconds.”
Ryan made a face. “That sounds a little short to be a staging failure, doesn’t it? Normally with stage fail there will be a partial flameout before the explosion. This, to me, sounds like an instantaneous detonation. Maybe the ground control center saw the rocket wasn’t going to make it into orbit for some other reason so they aborted. Just pushed a button and blew the ICBM up in flight. Does the Unha-3 have a flight termination system?”
Colonel Ward looked at some more papers. “Uh . . . we actually do not know the answer to that, Mr. President. Their mid-range ballistic missiles do not have flight termination systems, but this ICBM is much larger, so we think they might.”
“They might?” Ryan asked. This wasn’t the kind of intelligence briefing he liked getting. And from the look on Ward’s face, this wasn’t the type of intelligence briefing the colonel liked giving.
“I’m sorry, sir. We don’t have any hard intelligence that answers the question, one way or the other.”
“The Russians have flight term systems on their mid-range and larger ICBMs, and so do the Chinese. Right?”
“That is correct, Mr. President.”
“Well . . . the North Koreans are basing their systems off of Russian and Chinese technology, so it should follow they have a similar setup.”
Ward did not reply.
“Yes or no, Colonel Ward?”
“Well . . . yes. But . . .”
“But what?”
“But the North Koreans have taken significant shortcuts with other aspects of the systems they copy. It’s possible they did not put any flight termination systems on their Unha-3. We just cannot make a determination with the raw intel we have on the matter.”
Ryan was dissatisfied, but he changed gears. “Okay. For some reason the missile failed. Let’s talk about what happens next time, when it succeeds. Where are we on determining the efficiency of their nuclear weapons?”
Ward thought he was on firmer ground here. “They have a stockpile of around fifty kilos of weapons-grade plutonium, most of which is disbursed in the existing weapons. They also have uranium enrichment facilities. They have one overt facility at Yongbyon, but we are virtually certain that is just a cover location to show their interest in uranium is for peaceful purposes. They have other clandestine facilities, but the location and efficiency of these are uncertain.” He frowned. “Another function of our poor intelligence out of the country.”
Director of National Intelligence Mary Pat Foley chimed in. “The most recent nuclear test performed in North Korea, we think, used uranium and not plutonium, and if this is, in fact, the case, it shows us they are expanding their capabilities.
“They’ve had three successful underground tests. They’ve got a plutonium bomb, that is not in doubt. We estimate they have between five and ten devices. The yield is in question, but suffice it to say they are big enough to pose a threat.”
When Foley finished, Ward picked back up. “As I said before, DIA speculates the DPRK has reached the sophistication for miniaturization of their nuclear weapons to the degree they could, in theory, place a small plutonium-based warhead on one of their Rodong missiles, with a range of one thousand kilometers. If this is, in fact, the case, it isn’t too far-fetched to think they could weaponize a longer, intermediate-range rocket.” Ward hastened to add, “We do think the targeting of the missile would be inaccurate and the efficiency of the warhead to be low.”
Ryan asked, “How low? What is the estimated accuracy of the Taepo-2?”
“Undetermined. There is a twenty-five percent probability of—”
Ryan interrupted. “Are we talking accurate to within a few miles, tens of miles, hundreds of miles? Just a general idea.”
Ward looked back down to his page.
Ryan sighed. “Colonel. You are being too careful. We’re just two guys talking here. We didn’t bring you in to read the damn paper in front of you, I can read it myself. I need to hear what you know, and what you think.”
Ward cleared his throat. “Yes, sir. We think the Taepodong-2, if successfully deployed, would be accurate to within twenty-five to fifty miles.”
Secretary of State Adler broke in now. “It doesn’t have to be accurate. It’s a terror weapon. An instrument of blackmail. Choi isn’t after a tactical advantage. He’s after money, power in his region. The world’s worst nuclear bomb on top of the world’s most inaccurate ICBM still scares the hell out of a lot of people.”
Ryan nodded. “Me, for instance.”
“Me too,” Adler admitted. “Still, it’s important to remember what’s going on here. The entire North Korean nuclear industry isn’t some wacko plot to destroy the world, it’s a wacko plot to earn the respect of the world.”
Ryan said, “I agree with that, but I wouldn’t characterize it as wacko. North Korea’s GDP falls right between those of Kenya and Zambia. If we only had economic factors to consider and not military factors, we wouldn’t be spending any more time concerning ourselves with Pyongyang than we would with Lusaka.”
Chief of Staff Arnie Van Damm glanced up from the papers in front of him with a look of confusion.
“Capital of Zambia, Arnie,” Ryan added.
Arnie nodded and looked back down.
Ryan said, “The DPRK already gets more attention than they would warrant if they didn’t have a nuke, but they want to be treated with all the deference of the other nuclear weapon–holding states. Frankly, once they have a working ICBM that can hit California, I will be forced to give them that respect.”
Ryan turned his attention back to Ward. “So to recap, we know the rocket failed before third stage, we don’t know why, but we’re looking into it.”
Ward replied sheepishly, “Yes, Mr. President. Unfortunately, that’s where we are.”
/>
“Okay,” Ryan said. “Thanks for your report.”
The two DIA employees looked to Mary Pat Foley, who nodded at them and then turned her gaze toward the door. Ward and the major packed up their briefcases and started heading out of the room.
Ryan called after them. “Colonel? Major?”
They both spun on their heels. “Sir?”
“You did the best with what you have. The fault wasn’t the messengers. I just need more to the message.”
“Yes, sir,” the two DIA analysts said.
“And next time you come back, be ready for a discussion, not a presentation. You’ll find I’m pretty easy to chat with when I’m engaged. You guys have the knowledge, and I’m just about the most curious son of a gun you’ll ever meet.”
Another round of “Yes, sir,” and the two left the room.
When they were gone Scott Adler smiled. “That colonel looked like a recruit just off the bus. Did you see the deer-in-the-headlights look he gave you when you asked for the flare duration?”
Jack shrugged. “I guess I went a little overboard. I’ve been reading a lot of our primary intelligence on the DPRK’s systems. Frankly, I was hoping there was more intel than what was in the reports that make it to me. There are a hell of a lot of holes in our knowledge.”
CIA director Canfield said, “You can’t get too deep in the trees, boss. You are the one everybody relies on to see the entire forest.”
“Yeah. I know.”
Canfield added, “Mr. President. It’s important for you to understand why there are gaps in our knowledge of North Korea. Our SIGINT, ELINT, and MASINT are all fair to good. We have spaceborne platforms, airborne platforms, surface platforms, and even subsurface platforms, and they are all pointed at the Korean Peninsula. We have cyber-platforms too, of course. But our HUMINT is lacking. Most of the human intelligence we have comes from defectors to the south. They are usually of poor quality. Subsistence farmers, laborers, teenagers who make it over.”
Jack said, “You are saying we are in the dark.”
“From a HUMINT perspective, we are nearly that. We have some low-level government officials in our pocket. But the ones in Pyongyang we do hold some influence over are not able to communicate with us regularly, if at all. We don’t have a single, CIA-run government asset in the entire nation. Even at the absolute height of the Cold War, we always had agents in the Soviet Union. But these days we are dark in North Korea.”
“Okay,” Ryan said, then he drummed his fingers on the table. “Getting back to this failed launch. I wish we could all celebrate, but the problem with North Korea”—he held a hand up quickly—“one of the problems with North Korea, is that bad news for them is not necessarily good news for us. We’ve all seen it before, right? They respond to an embarrassing failure with a flexing of their muscles. Saber rattling.”
Mary Pat agreed. “Their long-range missile blows up during second-stage sep so they ‘test-fire’ two dozen short-range missiles into the Sea of Japan.”
SecDef Burgess said, “Or they shell islands, or send mini-subs south of the Thirty-eighth Parallel.”
Ryan added, “The new Choi has been going out of his way to show us he is to be taken just as seriously as the old Choi.”
The national security adviser said, “Mr. President. May I be the voice of perspective here? Even with all this taken into account, the DPRK is not our main problem right now. Even if there is some new low-intensity conflict on the Korean Peninsula, there are other, more pressing issues going on in the world. I think we need to count our blessings they still can’t hit California with a plutonium bomb, and then return our focus to Russia, NATO, China, the Middle East, and all the other more critical issues out there.”
Jack nodded and rubbed his eyes. “Why can’t all the assholes out there just take a number and threaten us one at a time?” There were stressed chuckles around the room. “So . . . what do we do about this?”
Adler said, “I suggest we go back to the Security Council, push for another vote condemning the DPRK.”
“The UN? Seriously? To what end?” Ryan asked. “China will just veto. Russia, too.”
Adler shook his head now. “China and North Korea aren’t the allies they used to be. Now that Choi the son has taken over for Choi the father, his destabilizing is pissing them off in Beijing. Remember China and DPRK had that big blowup over mineral rights last year. We won’t get a vote from China, but it’s possible we’ll get an abstention.”
National Security Adviser Robillio added, “Russia will veto, but it creates another attempt to isolate Russia diplomatically. With a new resolution we can marginalize Russia and censor North Korea. Kill two birds with one stone.”
Ryan answered back, “That’s not killing two birds with one stone. That’s yelling at two birds as they fly on by without a care. Russia will keep doing what they’re doing, and Chairman Choi doesn’t give a damn about condemnation in the Security Council. His focus is on holding and exerting power. Nothing more.”
Adler was unwavering. “The UN might not have teeth, but the sanctions against the North are already as strict as we have any hope of making them without some dramatic new development. Diplomatically speaking, there is little we can do.” He looked across the table at SecDef Burgess. “Unless you are going to send Bob to attack Pyongyang, Mr. President, a UN resolution is about the only weapon we’ve got.”
Ryan dropped his elbows on the table. “Even with the broad sanctions on their weapons development programs, conventional and nuclear weapons and ballistic missiles, they still manage to launch ICBMs and detonate nukes. The Chinese don’t want them armed with nukes any more than we do, so we know they aren’t supplying them. Russia is the one adding fuel to this fire.”
Canfield agreed. “That’s right. The Russians don’t care if North Korea has a nuke. It’s another headache for us to deal with, and the DPRK pays in cash. There are only two impediments to North Korea having a deployable ICBM.”
“And those are?” asked Ryan.
“One, the sanctions. Russia doesn’t want to get caught sneaking banned items and technology into North Korea, because that hurts them diplomatically. They do it, but they do it carefully, and that means the technology comes in a slow trickle.”
“And the other?”
“The other, quite simply, is money. North Korea is a hopelessly poor regime, with very little hard currency in the West. If they suddenly found themselves flush with cash, they could up the ante with Russia and unscrupulous private defense contractors and command a lot better service. Russia will sell them anything at any time. If the DPRK ever starts waving around hundreds of millions instead of millions, you’ll see the proliferation increase precipitously, and they will get an arsenal of ICBMs.”
Jack put it succinctly for the rest of his national security team. “A poor DPRK is in U.S. national interests. We can’t go out and say it to the world, because we’ll be accused of starving the citizens of North Korea, even though it is the government of North Korea that is starving its own people. But we have to do whatever we can to prevent Choi’s government from flourishing financially.”
Mary Pat said, “Violations of sanctions allow millions in wealth and goods to trickle in and out.”
Jack said, “We’ve worked for two generations to bleed them dry so they would come to the bargaining table, and still they keep moving on. We need more intelligence out of the North.” He looked to Mary Pat and Jay. “This is a critical need. I know you have a thousand other things to deal with, but after that DIA brief it is clear to me we aren’t going to have a solid handle on DPRK’s capabilities until they demonstrate their capability by dumping a payload onto San Francisco. At that point it will be too late to do anything about it. I want you to improve your HUMINT in the DPRK.”
The meeting broke up minutes later, and Mary Pat Foley stood from her chair, ready to retu
rn to her office at the Liberty Crossing complex in McLean, Virginia. Her President wasn’t satisfied with the intelligence product he was getting, which meant she had a hell of a lot of work to do. She’d meet with CIA director Canfield and discuss it, because they were both feeling the same heat.
She had just left the cabinet room and collected her mobile phone from a wicker basket on the President’s secretary’s desk, when the device vibrated in her hand. She answered it without looking.
“Foley.”
“Mary Pat? It’s Gerry Hendley here.”
Foley stepped into the West Wing hall. She could tell by Gerry’s tone of voice something was wrong. “What is it?”
“Are you where you can talk?”
Mary Pat looked around. Men and women walked all around her. “I’ll be back in my car in a few minutes. I’ll call you then. Just tell me this. Is this about Colin Hazelton?”
“Yes.”
“Is he okay?”
Gerry sighed into the phone. “No. No, he’s not. I’m afraid he’s dead.”
She stopped fully in the hall, her knees weakening in shock as she did so. “Dead?”
8
One year earlier
The office of the Supreme Leader of North Korea is the Ryongsong Residence, also called Residence No. 55. It is located on a small lake in the northern suburbs of Pyongyang, and it serves as one of ten private residences for the nation’s ruler.
The compound is several miles square and surrounded with fencing and gates; the living facility is hardened for conventional and nuclear attack, and two brigades of elite troops reside on the property with the sole mission of protecting the Supreme Leader both from foreign armies and domestic insurrection.
A black limousine arrived at the compound’s outer perimeter checkpoint at ten a.m.; armed guards checked the driver and the occupant in the back, a small, thin fifty-four-year-old bald man in a gray suit. Soon the limo drove north through the hills of Ryongsong, stopped at more checkpoints along the way, until finally the vehicle pulled up to the entrance of Residence No. 55 itself. The bald man climbed out and was led with his small entourage into the building, then he was brought into an ornate sitting area by three female assistants of the Dae Wonsu, and he sat down on a straight-back chair.
