Jeffrey Stephens
Targets of Opportunity
For Hoccos, who never left a man behind
PROLOGUE
On the eighth floor of a nondescript office building overlooking the harbor in Pyongyang, two men faced off across a small table. Hwang Hyun-Su, host of the meeting, was one of Kim Jong-Il’s most trusted advisors. His guest from South America was only identified to him as Adina.
The Great Leader maintained a strict need-to-know policy, even among his closest and most prominent associates. All that was required was for Kim’s deputy to attend this meeting, hear what the man had to say and report back.
The view from the austere conference room offered a revealing portrait of North Korea’s industrial dilemma: the warehousing and docks, with their antiquated equipment and vessels, appeared largely deserted — the port was far too quiet to comport with Kim’s claim of national prosperity. In sum, the harbor evinced all the activity of a New Hampshire lake in January.
Nevertheless, Hwang pointed to the port with pride, claiming it was proof of Kim’s true genius.
Responding without irony or sarcasm, the Latin man said, “We very much respect the spectacular growth of your economy,” then waited for his host’s interpreter to explain his statement. “If we are to make progress in these discussions, however, we must be candid about your dependence on foreign sources of oil.”
Hwang stared at his guest. “The Democratic People’s Republic of Korea is an independent nation. We are not reliant on any other government.”
The man called Adina could not resist a thin smile. “I am well versed in your Great Leader’s Juche ideology, his commitment to total autonomy, and the impressive strides he has made to ensure the success and the security of your beloved nation.”
Hwang nodded his approval as the statement was translated.
“But sir, the DPRK consumes more than thirty-five thousand barrels of oil every day, an extremely conservative estimate based on a damaged economy. Even at those numbers, your country produces less than two percent of its requirements. If that is not dependence, what is?” The Asian winced slightly. “If you are uncomfortable with the word dependence, then perhaps we should speak of cooperation.”
“Cooperation with whom? We already have friends who help us to meet our needs.”
“Ah, yes. But your so-called friends engage in wars with the imperialists of the West, then withhold production of oil and intentionally cause the price of crude to skyrocket. What sort of friends will they be when the cost has doubled again? Who will offer you protection?”
Hwang sat silent.
“The Korean People’s Army you have assembled cannot rely on the promises of those who are consumed with their own difficulties. You cannot run your tanks and ships on those questionable assurances. And what of your financial infrastructure? Your people have suffered great deprivation in the name of industrial progress, but how will that end if you cannot afford the oil you need to grow?”
“The people are devoted to following our Dear Leader.”
For the first time, Adina did nothing to disguise his impatience. “It is difficult for people to remain in lockstep when they are starving to death. Let’s be frank, shall we? Your country has suffered food shortages for over a decade with no end in sight. You have chosen to cut off foreign aid, even from nongovernmental agencies such as the World Food Program. This has only worsened the situation. Your stranglehold on the people is enforced not through devotion, but through martial law. Your policies have resulted in famine, chronic poverty, and a decline in productivity. As the price of oil climbs, your troubles will only increase. Your military remains strong, but to what purpose? You have two million men in uniform doing nothing more than guarding a border that separates you from your own brothers in the south. How will that end for you?” Hwang stood up as the translation was completed, but before he could speak, Adina said, “Sit down, I’m not finished.”
The Korean stared at him in disbelief. “Do you understand that I am here on behalf of the Great Leader? Do you realize, that if I so choose, you will never leave this room alive?”
Adina remained utterly composed as he replied, “And to whom do you think you are speaking, some fool toady you can intimidate with your threats? Kim would not have sent you to meet with me unless he believed I had something important to say.”
“Insulting my glorious country, is that what I should find important?”
“No, my friend,” the Latin replied, speaking slowly so that nothing would be missed by the translator. “What I have come to say is that I have a solution to these problems. A strategy, if you will, that will benefit your country and mine.”
Hwang hesitated for a moment, then sat back down. “Well?”
“What if we could arrange a means of using your military intelligence and capability to deal a mortal wound to our common enemy? What if we could do it in such a way that the blame was not laid at your doorstep or mine? What if we work together to ensure that you will have access to oil at a fair price for decades to come, while crippling the United States in the process?”
“You want us to go to war against the United States?”
“Quite the contrary. I want to help you avoid a war with the United States, a war that is inevitable if your economic issues worsen and your flaunting of their demands increases. Let’s be frank in our assessments for a moment. Try to put aside the patriotic claptrap you’re forced to recite for the masses and look at the realities here.” The Korean translator visibly flinched as he delivered this sentence, but Adina went on. “Where will all the hunger and oppression in your country inevitably lead? Eventually you will be left with a disenchanted people and a huge army with war as the only rationale for its use. Just as the United States needed the Second World War to lift itself from the Great Depression, the DPRK will be left with no alternative but bloody conflict. Then who will you fight? The Chinese? The Japanese? The Americans? With their resources, it will spell disaster for you.” Hwang began to protest, but Adina held up his hand. “Right now our enemies in the West face an ongoing battle with the extremists in the Middle East. Instead of becoming entangled in those hostilities, let us embark on a mission that will use the fanaticism of the Islamic lunatics for our benefit. Let them escalate their conflicts with the United States, let them deflect all attention away from us while we actually deal the Americans a crushing blow. Let our two nations become the core of a great new alliance for this young century.”
“Who are you?” Hwang said, regretting the question as soon as it was uttered.
Adina waved the question away as if swatting at a noisome insect. “Who I am is of no consequence for now. What is important is that we are already moving ahead, swiftly and secretly and effectively. We already have men in place to begin the first part of this mission.”
“Already moving?”
“Yes, with the approval of your Great Leader.”
Hwang appeared stung. “Where?”
“In the Caribbean.”
Hwang would have laughed, if humor were any part of his limited emotional arsenal. “The Caribbean? What sense does that make?”
“All the sense in the world,” Adina said with a smile. “As you will come to see, once you are prepared to listen, it makes all the sense in the world.”
CHAPTER ONE
Seyed Asghari was a true believer. He had dedicated much of his adolescence and all of his adult life to the glory of Allah, pursuing what he perceived to be God’s purpose — the destruction of all Western infidels. He was devoted to this calling and therefore honored to have been recruited for his latest assignment, serving Iran in a multinational assault upon the United States.