“Yes, sir. What about Beijing? They sure as hell will ask us what’s going on.”
“Stall them. What else can we do?”
“I have a thought,” Radford said.
“Let’s hear it, Karl,” said the president.
“It’s still possible that the Taiwanese may think it was a local issue, a shoot-out between drug-lords.”
“That’s not going to hold up for very long,” said Friedman.
“But it’s better than nothing.”
“The Chinese,” said the president, “are not stupid. And didn’t the Reno rough up one of their subs?”
“Yes, sir, but we’ve done it before and they never kicked,” said Friedman.
“And what about the White Dragon? Scott reported that they annihilated her, vaporized her, I think he said. You can’t hide that.”
“No, sir, you can’t. But Scott confirmed that there was nothing to tie us to her sinking.”
“Nothing but that Kilo trailing them.”
“So we play dumb,” Friedman said. “The Chinese can’t prove anything.”
The president rose, went to the doors, and looked out at his wife toweling off after her swim. “All right, I’ll buy that — for now,” he said over a shoulder. “Paul, you’ll have to work both sides of the street on this one. If Beijing starts asking questions, tell them what you tell Ambassador Hun.”
“Sir, the Chinese ambassador is a bigger prick than Hun.”
“Agreed.” The president turned. “Karl, what’s the next step?”
“As soon as the Reno arrives in Japan, we’ll have a chance to assess the intel package Scott found on Matsu Shan.”
“It’s pretty thin stuff, you said.”
“Yes, a single DVD but better than nothing. Scott will liase with the JDIH.”
“In Tokyo?”
“Yes, sir. Their people are busting their chops to come up with someone we can tie to Marshal Jin.”
“Think we can trust the Japanese on this one?” Friedman said.
“Paul, they’ve worked with us so far,” Radford said. “If it wasn’t for them we wouldn’t even know about Matsu Shan. I don’t understand what your problem is.”
“They think the guy who met with Jin is a Japanese national, and they get squirrelly when one of their own people is involved,” Friedman said. “It won’t surprise me if they bail out on us or simply tell us they won’t cooperate.”
“Nonsense. I know DG Kabe, and he’s committed to helping us. They have a huge stake in stopping Jin from threatening war. They’re right in the middle if something goes wrong. Hell, the PM is at our feet over the missile agreement.”
The president waved a hand. “Forget the agreement. Do what you think best, vis-à-vis the DG, Karl, but keep him on our side. The NKs have upped the vitriol and we may not have much time left to head off disaster. What’s on your mind, Paul?”
“A small thing, but maybe a big thing.”
“Well?”
“I seem to remember seeing a report — Karl, you might be able to confirm this — that Scott’s ex is currently in Tokyo with a Navy captain Rich Sterling, our military attaché accredited to the Japanese Self-Defense Force.”
The president frowned. “Scott’s ex. What of it?”
“Sir, I don’t think it’s a good idea for Scott and his ex-wife to get together at a time like this.”
“Christ, Paul, leave it to you to think about Scott’s domestic arrangements.”
“Sir, someone has to think about it. Scott will have enough to do and doesn’t need any distractions over there.”
“My God, Paul, what makes you think Scott will hook up with his ex-wife? Besides, that’s his prerogative. I mean, who are we…” The president hesitated. “Karl, what do you think?”
“Sir, Paul’s right, Scott’s ex-wife is over there, shacked up with Sterling. But I don’t see a problem with that. Scott’ll be working with Ms. Kida, at JDIH. She’s perfectly capable of keeping his attention focused where it belongs.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked the president.
“It means, sir,” said Radford, “that she’s smart and quite a looker.”
“Ah, I get it.”
Radford gave the president a thumbs-up.
25
“He asks to see you, Dear Leader.”
Marshal Jin, tired from his round trip to Matsu Shan, put aside his breakfast of steamed chicken, rice, and kimch’i and turned his attention to General Yi. “What does he want to see me about?”
“A private matter. He would not elaborate.”
Jin drummed his fingers on his desk, careful not to disturb a paduk — Korean chessboard and pieces — while he studied Yi’s pitted face. “I have no interest in hearing Kim speak of his private fantasies.” He gave Yi a swift appraisal, saw something flicker behind the general’s icy mask of restraint. “You may speak freely, Comrade General.”
“With deepest respect, Dear Leader, I believe Kim wishes to discuss with you certain understandings he had with the United States.”
Jin snorted. “Certain understandings. Which ones — the agreement to disarm, to dismantle our forces so the imperialists can walk into our country unopposed to build shopping malls and McDonald’s and movie theaters that will enrich the Jewish financiers who run America? And was it not Kim Jong-il who promised that if war broke out he would kill thousands of GIs; shoot down thousands of American war planes; sink America’s prized vessels of the Seventh Fleet, their aircraft carriers and submarines; devastate American bases; have all of this broadcast live on international television; and finally, launch long-range missiles at the United States and Japan? I know all about his so-called understandings with the imperialists. But as soon as they took out their checkbooks he turned into a yapping lapdog. That’s why he’s in detention in Chungwa and not sitting in this chair, here in Pyongyang.”
Yi nodded but said nothing as he tired of standing and stepped back to ease himself into a chair. While Jin drummed his fingers, Yi lit a cigarette and inhaled twice before he said, “Perhaps, Dear Leader, there is something we are not aware of despite having total access to Kim’s private files.”
Jin’s gaze bored into Yi. He despised Yi’s tendency to circle endlessly around a matter before coming to the point. How he could command troops in the field was beyond comprehension. “Comrade, you test my patience. Please say what is on your mind.”
“As you know, Dear Leader, rumors still circulate that Kim played the Americans for fools regarding the nuclear freeze agreement.”
“Yes, what of it?”
“That he played them not only for fools but induced them to provide vast sums of money to ensure that the DPRK complied with the agreement.”
“Those rumors have proven true. Five billion dollars have been paid by the United States government to the DPRK through secret Swiss accounts. Yes, Kim the lapdog blackmailed the Americans and they paid. The money went for improvements to our conventional forces and for nuclear engineering studies at Yongbyon. But we have known that for years.”
“There are rumors that the Americans also paid Kim a billion dollars personally, which he has in a private account in Switzerland. Perhaps it is this money he wishes to discuss with you.”
“You mean, Comrade General, that he wants to buy his way out of detention?”
“To buy his way into exile.”
Again, Jin snorted. “He is mad if he thinks he could buy exile. There isn’t enough money in the world for him to buy his way out of Chungwa. And if there was, where would he go? Who would have him?”