Either the power struggle on the mainland had intensified or his so-called Chinese friends had set him up for a fall. Either way, his situation was untenable.
“What assurances regarding our interests did he give you?”
“None.”
Another surprise. Choi’s gaze held steady. “That’s disturbing news.”
China had always been North Korea’s advocate and shield on the world stage, even when they misbehaved. China shed more than a million lives in the great Fatherland Liberation War after the Americans intervened and threatened to cross the Yalu River. The mutual sacrifice and shared ideology formed a strong bond between the neighboring dictatorships, particularly among the militaristic factions.
Strategically, the North Koreans played a key role in China’s foreign policy, keeping Japan and South Korea on edge and at the same time currying Chinese favor to intervene against Pyongyang’s ambitions.
But two years ago, President Ling and President Ryan had conspired to initiate the overthrow of Ji-hoon and his reckless policies. Fortunately, the replacement of President Ling by President Zhao had given Choi time to consolidate his position.
What were the two great powers up to now?
We must assume, then, that regime change is their unstated goal,” Choi said. “How will they try to overthrow us? War?” War was always on the forefront of Choi’s mind as the commander-in-chief of all military forces and as an ardent student of history.
“We must not preclude the possibility of a full-scale invasion from the south, supported by naval and air assets from the coalition partners,” the Korean People’s Army Ground Force general said. “And perhaps with Chinese troops pouring across our northern border.”
“But it is highly unlikely,” Choi said. “There would be horrible bloodshed and widespread destruction. What would be left for them to take over?”
“Let them try. We’ll smash them all!” one of the generals said. The military heads all nodded in agreement.
“I don’t doubt our military capabilities, gentlemen. But even if we smashed them, they would still surely smash us. War is to be avoided if at all possible, if we want the Revolution to survive.” He sat back in his chair. “But as a precaution, let’s quietly redirect ten additional divisions north. We’ll use the pretense of border security and drug trafficking — no, sex trafficking — but move them at night and under cover whenever possible.”
“Yes, sir,” an Army general replied.
“What other military options do they have, short of total war or invasion?” Choi asked.
The general of the strategic rocket forces leaned forward. “If I were the Americans, I would make tactical strikes on our missile facilities and submarine pens.”
“Our underground nuclear facilities are impervious to aerial bombardment,” a technocrat said. “But the Americans will drop chemical or biological agents around our facilities to slow production and transport.”
The chairman nodded. “I’ve thought of these myself. I want a plan drawn up immediately to relocate as many civilians as we can to surround these facilities — new schools, hospitals, whatever it takes. The Americans won’t dare strike then.”
He scanned the military faces again. “So that’s it? It sounds as if the coalition’s military options are quite limited.”
Heads nodded in agreement.
Choi turned to an economic official. “Besides military action, what else could the coalition do?”
“A total economic blockade,” the minister offered. Clearly Choi already knew what the man’s answer would be.
“That would only be possible with a complete air and naval blockade,” the Korean People’s Army Navy admiral said.
“China and South Korea account for the vast majority of our imports and exports. A blockade would hardly be necessary,” Choi said. “But I would hate to lose our business with Pakistan and Iran.” Some of North Korea’s nuclear and missile technology came from them.
“Our submarines can break the back of any blockade,” the Korean People’s Army Navy admiral said. The KPAN had thirty-five submarines, many of them domestically built, and over seven hundred ships in total.
“I appreciate the gallantry, Admiral, but our subs are vastly outnumbered by their antisubmarine forces,” Choi said. He pulled out a Gitanes cigarette from a fresh blue pack and lit it. He was the only person allowed to smoke in the room. A lead-crystal Baccarat ashtray sat to one side, a gift from one of his young mistresses after her last trip to Brussels. He took a few drags, thinking. His eyes fixed on the oily smoke curling from the end of his cigarette, whisking away into the ceiling ducts by the powerful fans circulating the filtered air — a gift of the Ukrainian Communists decades ago. It gave him an idea. He turned to the foreign minister.
“What will the Russians do if we are blockaded?”
“Given their current status with the Americans, I’m certain they will gladly ignore the embargo if for no other reason than to frustrate President Ryan.”
“Contact your counterpart in Moscow. Confirm this, and find out precisely what items and services they might be willing to provide,” Choi said.
“Immediately, sir.”
Another minister spoke. “There is no question that we can survive an economic embargo. Our people are willing to make the necessary sacrifices for the sake of our country.”
Choi stubbed out his cigarette in the expensive ashtray in small, precise movements. “Agreed. We can survive their economic embargo. But I’m not interested in merely ‘surviving.’”
The paper in front of Choi caught his eye. He picked it up and read it. Another idea came to him. “We have the meeting confirmed, as well as the time and place. President Zhao, President Ryan, Prime Minister Hironaga, and President Yeo-jin will all be in attendance. Does this gathering of heads of state present us with an opportunity?”
Everyone in the room knew Choi was referring to the 1983 Rangoon bombing by North Korean agents. That attack killed several high-ranking South Korean cabinet officials, who had all gathered for a public event. Dozens of other innocent civilians died as well — collateral damage in the long march toward the Idea. The president of South Korea survived only because the bomb went off before his scheduled arrival.
The head of the Ministry of State Security’s foreign counterespionage cadre cleared his throat. “It would be nearly impossible to organize an assassination attempt on Chinese soil, especially in Beijing.”
“Nearly impossible, but not entirely impossible, correct?” Choi asked.
“Anything is possible if one has the will,” the MSS deputy, a cousin, said. “But a successful outcome would turn us into a pariah with our friends in the Chinese government.”
Choi turned to the general of the rocket forces. “What about a decisive blow from one of our missiles, smashing the summit?”
The general froze. Was he serious?
“Would it even be possible?” Choi demanded.
“Yes, it would be possible.”
The chairman shook his head. “But not probable. The Chinese air defenses are impermeable.”
“But our scientists are working tirelessly to defeat their systems,” a civilian offered.
Choi waved a dismissive hand. “Yes, of course. But that doesn’t help us now, does it?”
The man shook his head sheepishly. “No, sir.”
“Do we have any other options available to us? Something that would at least disrupt their planned summit?”
“Did you have something in mind, sir?” one of the generals asked.
Choi suggested, “Another nuclear test, perhaps.”
A civilian technocrat from the nuclear directorate answered. “We might be able to rush one forward, but we risk a failure by doing so, and that would damage our technical credibility in the international community. But if we succeeded it would only reinforce the concerns of the Americans and their lackeys.”