After closing with the airliner a second time, the fighter began to drop back as KAL 007 crossed over into international airspace. And then the altitude of 1300 suddenly began to fall. Ben noticed that Akiko wrapped her arms around herself, and he realized that he was breathing hard. What must it have been like for the passengers on that plane, the missile strikes followed by the plunge?
Then the plane’s dive slowed. It pulled up at 15,100 feet. Ben had read several accounts of the end of KAL 007. What he was seeing on the screen more or less jelled with them. The generally accepted hypotheses held that the plane had spiraled into the sea north of Moneron Island. As he watched, the plane indeed began a spiral, quickly losing 5000 feet of height. But then the blip straightened its course and leveled out, flying a heading that meandered between thirty-eight and forty-two degrees. It was being flown manually, limping back toward Sakhalin Island.
‘Sweet Jesus wept,’ said Tex softly.
Meanwhile, several Soviet fighters crisscrossed the sky, changing altitude and course, searching for the aircraft their pilots no doubt thought had plummeted into the sea. Several interceptors, probably low on fuel, returned to base.
A few minutes later, 1300 was losing height according to the information transmitted by its transponder and captured on the tape. All of the original fighters in the chase had by now gone home. New fighters were flying into the Wakkanai radar’s horizon, trying to find the 747, but they were looking in the wrong place. KAL 007 was heading north and east.
The time was 18:37:40 and still 1300 flew on. It was over the coast of Sakhalin Island now, on a heading that, extrapolated, would take it to the Soviet Dolinsk-Sokol base, just as Yuudai Suzuki had said in his letter to Akiko.
Then, at 18:38:12, 1300 disappeared from the screen. It was low, just above 5000 feet. More than likely it had merely dropped below the Wakkanai radar’s range.
At 18:39:00, the screen went black, the end of the tape.
‘Well, fuck me,’ said Tex, exhaling.
Ben looked at Akiko; her eyes were red-rimmed. Yuudai Suzuki had been right.
September 1, 1983
Santa Barbara, California. The phones were silent, a brief lull in the storm.
‘You want me to get in some dinner?’ Des asked.
‘I could use something,’ said Meese. ‘I think it’s going to be a long night.’
‘A club sandwich will do me fine,’ Clark replied. ‘And you might ask if we can get a couple more phone lines in here, if that’s possible.’
‘Make that two club sandwiches, Des. And fries,’ said Meese. ‘And whatever you want, of course.’
The phone rang. The National Security Advisor pounced on it. After a moment, he said into the handset, ‘Hang on, Roy. I’m going to put you on speaker.’ Clark pressed a button and announced, ‘It’s Roy Garret.’
‘Sir, I just faxed to you 007’s final passenger manifest,’ Garret said as Des handed Clark several curled pages of facsimile paper hot off the machine.
‘Just got it,’ said Clark, flattening it on the table.
Another phone rang. ‘It’s Bill Casey,’ Meese said, after picking it up.
‘Roy, we’ve got the director of the CIA on the other phone,’ said Clark. ‘Bill, Roy Garret from the NSA is on the line.’
‘Hello, Roy,’ said Casey.
‘Good evening, sir,’ Garret responded.
Clark signaled to Des. ‘Hold all other calls. So what have you got for us, Roy?’
‘Sir, it seems US Congressman Lawrence McDonald was a passenger aboard 007.’
‘Aw, hell,’ Meese swore.
‘Larry McDonald . . . ?’ Clark shook his head, and ran down the faxed manifest with his finger until he got to the Georgia congressman’s underlined name. ‘Why was he on that flight? Why didn’t we know?’
‘According to his press secretary, a guy called Tommy Toles,’ said Garret, ‘the congressman was on his way to Seoul at the invitation of the President of the ROK. He was attending a conference there, as well as celebrating the thirtieth anniversary of the US–Korea mutual defense treaty. Seems the congressman was supposed to be on an earlier flight, but he missed it.’
‘How did Toles know there was a problem with the plane?’ asked Meese.
‘He heard a newsflash on the TV that 007 was missing. No details,’ said Garret. ‘He called the Federal Aviation Administration in DC and spoke to the duty officer there, a guy by the name of Orville Brockman. Toles recorded the call. I’ve got a transcript.’
‘Read it to us, Roy,’ said Clark.
‘Yes, sir . . . “We have just received information from our FAA representative, Mr Dennis Wilhelm in Tokyo, as follows: He has been advised by the Japanese Civil Aviation Bureau headquarters, Air Traffic Division, Mr Takano—T-a-k-a-n-o—who is his counterpart in Japanese aviation, as follows: Japanese Self-Defense Force confirms that the Hokkaido radar followed Air Korea to a landing in Soviet territory on the island of Sakhalinska—S-a-k-h-a-l-i-n-s-k-a—and it is confirmed by the manifest that Congressman McDonald is on board.”’
Garret’s voice hung in the air.
Meese massaged his forehead.
‘Leaving Larry McDonald aside for a moment, couldn’t that be considered confirmation of the CIA report?’ Des pointed out.
Meese ran his fingers through his hair. ‘We can’t let that happen.’
‘It sounds to me like someone told someone who told someone who told someone,’ reassured Casey. ‘That’s not a confirmation, it’s Chinese whispers. And by the way, we don’t know where the initial so-called CIA report claiming that the plane was safe on Sakhalin came from. We think it might have been cooked up by a TV station in Seoul.’
‘Though it’s not far from the truth, evidently,’ Meese replied.
‘Anything else, Roy?’ asked Clark.
‘Sir, it’s now clear that the Soviets believed they had an RC-135 on their hands. They didn’t know 007 was a civilian airliner.’
‘That strains credibility,’ said Meese. ‘They got right up and personal with it?’
‘Yes, sir,’ said Garret.
‘Close enough to see what it was?’
‘We believe so, yes.’
‘And they still got it wrong?’
‘Apparently.’
Meese snorted and shook his head. ‘Then they’re even more hopeless than we thought.’
‘Roy, there was no misunderstanding about what kind of plane it was,’ Des insisted. ‘That’s the party line and we’re sticking to it.’
‘I copy that, Des.’
‘Roy, we need you to do something for us,’ said Meese.
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Get in touch with Richard Burt in DC. He’s expecting your call. Dick’s the assistant secretary of state for European and Canadian affairs. He’s put together a task force to control the flow of information. The task force will be meeting daily until further notice, monitoring consular reaction to the shootdown worldwide, as well as the press reports. CIA, Defense and State have seats at the table, and we’d like you to be our inside man.’
‘Yes, sir,’ said Garret.
‘Dick knows you’re NSA, but that’s about where it ends, if you know what I mean.’
‘I think so, sir.’
‘You’ll report back to us after each task-force meeting, keeping us abreast of developments.’
‘Will do, sir.’
‘Roy, we’ll speak again soon.’ Clark cut the connection with Garret. ‘So, what’s happening on your end, Bill?’ he asked the CIA director.
‘We knew about Toles and his congressman. That’s why I phoned,’ Casey replied. ‘Toles has been calling everyone in the known universe about it, which Garret just bore out.’
‘Larry’s a good Christian. I’ve met his wife, Kathryn. They have two nice kids,’ said Clark, shaking his head.
‘Judge, McDonald was also a member of the House Armed Ser vices Committee. There’s not much he doesn’t know about our defense strategies, budget
s and programs—the President’s strategic defense initiative, the MX and so forth. And that means if he is still alive, the KGB knows what he knows, or will know it.’
‘Wonderful,’ Meese said to the ceiling.
‘Calm down, Ed,’ said the CIA director. ‘If you think about it, this is a stroke of luck.’
‘I’d love to know how.’
‘We were going to get a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to bury the Soviet menace without having to fire a shot. That was the plan. It hasn’t worked out quite the way we intended, but we can still pull it off. If you think about what will happen if the Soviets turn around and release those passengers, and especially the crew, we have no choice.’
‘Just to be clear, you’re saying that we give them Congressman McDonald,’ said Meese.
‘Yes, exactly. If they want him, they’ll have to keep everyone. Our challenge now is to make them want him badly.’
Clark frowned, unconvinced.
‘What do y’all know about Larry McDonald?’
‘Well, I know he accused you of being a commie lover on television a couple of months back,’ said Meese with a humorless chuckle.
‘Yeah, Ed, McDonald’s quite a character,’ said Casey. ‘He also believes there’s a worldwide conspiracy funded by the Rockefellers to create a global government along communist lines. I’m supposed to be part of it, and so are George Shultz and Vice-President Bush. McDonald has been operating his own private surveillance network within various government departments and embassies, looking for communist sympathizers and other “globalist” undesirables.’
‘What?’ said Clark, incredulous.
‘Which bit don’t you believe, Judge? The globalist paranoia or the fact that he was spying on his own government?’
‘Well, all of it, clearly. I had no idea. He has his own espionage ring?’
‘He does indeed. Senator Joseph McCarthy was a left-winger compared to Larry McDonald.’
‘Larry’s ultra-conservative,’ said Clark, shaking his head. ‘As chairman of the John Birch Society, you have to be. But this?’
‘You don’t know the half of it, Judge,’ said Casey. ‘You know that Larry McDonald is General Patton’s cousin?’
‘Yes, of course. Who doesn’t?’
‘Well, it seems Larry inherited the general’s records. What might surprise you to learn is that toward the end of the war, Patton and a German spymaster named Reinhard Gehlen were working toward a plan to re-arm the German army and mount a joint German/US invasion of the Soviet Union. Gehlen’s men—those who are still alive—now work and recruit agents for Larry McDonald’s personal secret service.’
‘That is totally outrageous!’ said Meese, aghast.
‘If McDonald’s still alive, and we have to assume that he is, you know what he’ll be thinking?’
‘What?’ asked Meese.
‘That the downing of 007 was a plot to put him into communist hands—further confirming to him that Washington and the Soviet Union are cooperating in a global conspiracy.’
‘This is mad,’ said Clark.
‘Judge, two weeks ago, Larry McDonald told his staff he was intending to run for the Presidency of the United States in 1988 as a conservative Democrat.’
Clark was shaking his head.
‘He believes Vice-President Bush will run,’ the CIA director continued. ‘He further believes that if Bush wins, he’ll create some kind of international catastrophe that will allow him to proclaim a “New World Order”. McDonald wants to head that off at the pass, if he can.
‘The point is, gentlemen, even without dressing it up, Larry McDonald is a real prize for the Soviets. Not only can he give them an insight into our military’s strategy, tactics and hardware, but thanks to the Patton/Gehlen connection he’ll be able to provide them with a list of every communist sympathizer and enemy within our government, the bureaucracy and big business, along with a whole network of former German spies and their contacts.’
‘Shit,’ Meese murmured.
‘So what do we do?’ Clark asked.
‘It’s simple, really. We salt the mine. We make absolutely certain the Soviets know exactly what they’ve got in Lawrence Patton McDonald; make the man worth his weight in gold. We need to leave them in no doubt as to his value to the KGB and its war on the west. In the meantime, we have the tactical issue of this JDF report Garret just told you about. We need to smother it. Now.’
‘I’ll do that,’ said Clark.
‘What will you tell them?’ Casey asked.
‘I’ll speak to the director of the FAA personally. I’ll say that the FAA is to make no comment whatsoever to anyone about 007. We’re fighting a war with the Soviets and, as such, the downing of KAL 007 is a national security incident.’
‘What about the President? Does he know yet?’ asked Casey.
‘We briefed him half an hour ago,’ said Meese. ‘All he knows is that the plane is missing. We told him that the reports are sketchy and unconfirmed.’
‘When will you give him a fuller picture?’
‘Before he retires to bed this evening. We’ll let him know that we believe it’s in the water.’
‘What about the public?’
‘George Shultz is preparing a full announcement. He’s taking it to the networks tomorrow morning. And we’re going to give it to the Soviets—both barrels—in the United Nations General Assembly tomorrow as well.’
‘Who’s our man on point?’
‘If the President agrees, Charles Lichenstein,’ said Clark.
‘Yeah, Chuck’s good on his feet. Well, that about wraps up my end for the moment.’
‘What about McDonald?’ asked Meese. ‘Salting the mine.’
‘Leave that to me. The CIA has contacts.’
‘I’m sure you do, Bill,’ said Meese.
‘We play this right,’ said Casey, ‘and we’ll have the Soviets on the ropes. Things are going badly for them in Afghanistan. They’re starting to get bogged down. This KAL thing is going to totally blindside Moscow.’
‘That’s the idea,’ said Meese.
‘Like I said, we can still pull this off. I’ll call you later,’ the CIA director said and then the line went dead.
There was a knock on the door. Des got up and opened it. A secret service agent wheeled in a trolley carrying two dishes covered with domed, polished-silver lids.
‘Not joining us, Des?’ asked Meese.
‘No, thank you, if you don’t mind. Just lately I seem to have lost my appetite.’
January 24, 2012
Port Charlotte, Florida. They’d run through the Yuudai tape four times, but the sheer impact of it—what it meant—was still almost too big to grasp.
‘They lied,’ Ben fumed. ‘The bastards fucking lied.’
Lucas reached for another two liters of Pepsi. ‘Have you any idea how completely the downing of that plane changed the world?’
‘It changed my world,’ said Akiko, the years of grief drop-forged into hot anger, her fists white and clenched in her lap.
‘When KAL 007 came down, it almost brought the Soviet Union down with it,’ said Lucas. ‘So where does that leave us? Or, rather, you?’ His eyes flicked between Akiko and Ben.
‘We go to the media,’ Ben said bitterly. ‘And we do it now.’
Curtis was the kind of man who pulled children from fires and then dived back into the flames. He was also the kind of man who felt bound by a secret so terrible, the keeping of it destroyed him and his family. And the whole time he knew it was a lie. For the briefest instant, Ben experienced an emotion he’d never felt. He was proud of his father. He also felt loathing for the kind of men who chewed people like Curtis up and used them as fodder for their own purposes. At that moment, Ben wanted revenge. And he wanted to set the record straight.
‘The media? No, I don’t think that’s such a good idea,’ said Tex.
‘I agree. Dumb,’ nodded Lucas.
‘I don’t give a damn what anyone thinks,’ Ben
told them.
‘Look, we don’t know who’s read-in on this,’ the big man said. ‘Some of them could still be alive and kicking. The shootdown of KAL 007 would have involved a wide range of intelligence assets—the mission flown by Curtis Foxx and the crew of Arctic 16, for example, was just a small part of it.’ He raised an eyebrow at Tex.
‘And your silence helped sell this bullshit,’ Ben said, stabbing his finger at his father’s navigator.
‘Curtis and I were not part of this,’ Tex insisted.
‘My point,’ Lucas continued, calming things down, ‘is that without a shadow of a doubt anything that connects American assets to the demise of 007 will be sequestered in a compartment with a SAR code protecting its integrity. Do you understand what I mean by that?’
Ben shook his head, frustrated.
‘You produce that tape and the people who are read-in on this material, the people who know the facts, will do their damnedest to discredit it. You can bet someone will come out and claim the tape is a hoax, compare it to the Hitler diaries. They’ll do a complete hatchet job on the tape as well as everything and everyone connected with it. Can we prove it’s genuine? No. Could a tape like this be fabricated? Yes. Discredit this evidence and it would cement in place forever the real hoax—that Korean Air Lines flight 007 hit the water and all souls aboard were lost.’
‘I agree,’ said Tex. ‘The people read-in on this are going to be powerful enough to get the NSA hunting around on the whiff of a suspicion. But I guarantee you that the investigators who paid us a visit, Lana whatshername and her friend, have no real idea what they’re looking for. They’re far too junior. There’s no way they’d be read-in.’
‘So, what?’ asked Ben. ‘Akiko and I just forget about this and get on with our lives?’
‘Hell, no,’ said Lucas, waving an arm. ‘I’m just saying that I don’t think you should post it on YouTube, or whatever. Yuudai and Curtis would have realized that all this tape does is convince you of one thing.’
The Zero Option Page 22
