Tom Clancy's Op-center_ Op-center Part 8

Replacing the key around his neck, Major Carter returned to his desk to get an order fulfillment form while Major Lee supervised the careful loading of the two-foot-high orange drum onto a dolly. These dollies, specially designed to cradle different sized containers, hung on a rack on the back wall: if an enemy ever got through security and made it this far, they might not know that the dollies contained chips that sounded an alarm when they were taken more than two hundred yards from the HMV.

The drums were strapped to the dollies and taken outside, in turn, to the waiting truck. As each was loaded, an armed guard from HMV stood watch; she remained behind with the Korean driver each time Lee and his men returned to get another.

When they were finished, Lee went back in and signed the fulfillment order.

Carter gave Lee his copy. "You know to take this to General Norbom's office for his stamp. Otherwise, they won't let you out the gate with this."

"Yes. Thank you."

"I wish you luck," he said, offering Lee his hand. "We need men like you."

"And you," he replied flatly.

CHAPTER TWENTY.

Tuesday, 6:25 A.M., Op-Center

Paul Hood and Liz Gordon arrived at the Tank at the same time. Hood ushered her in with a sweep of his hand and then entered behind her. The heavy door was operated by a b.u.t.ton in the side of the large oval conference table, and he pushed it when he was inside.

The small room was lit by fluorescent lights hung in banks over the conference table; on the wall across from Hood's chair, the countdown clock flashed its ever-changing array of digital numbers.

The walls, floor, door, and ceiling of the Tank were all covered with sound-absorbing Acoustix; behind the mottled gray-and-black strips were several layers of cork, a foot of concrete, and more Acoustix. In the midst of the concrete, on all six sides of the room, was a pair of wire grids that generated vacillating audio waves; electronically, nothing could enter or leave the room without being utterly distorted. If any listening device did somehow manage to pick up a conversation from inside, the randomness of the changing modulation made rea.s.sembling the conversations impossible.

Hood sat down at the head of the table and Liz sat to his left. He turned down the brightness on the monitor that sat beside a computer keyboard at his end of the table; a tiny fiber-optic camera was attached to the top of the monitor, and a similar setup was located at Mike Rodgers's position, across the table.

Liz slapped her yellow pad on the table. "Listen, Paul. I know what you're going to say, but I'm not wrong. This wasn't his doing."

Hood looked into the hazel eyes of his Staff Psychologist. Her medium-length brown hair was pulled back by a black headband; a white streak on a lapel of her smart red pantsuit was the residue of a carelessly brushed ash from one of the Marlboros she chainsmoked in her office.

"I wasn't going to say you were wrong," Hood replied evenly. "But what I have to know is precisely how sure you are. The President put me in charge of the Korean Task Force, and I don't want to tell him his North Korean counterpart is talking peace in our time while he's trying to egg us into crossing the DMZ."

"Eighty-nine percent," she said in her raspy voice, "that's how sure I am. If Bob Herbert's intelligence is accurate and we factor that in, our confidence level is ninety-two percent." She pulled a stick of Wrigley's from her pocket and unwrapped it. "The President of North Korea does not want a war. The short of it is, he's thrilled with the way the lower cla.s.s is growing and he knows that the way to remain in power is to keep that cla.s.s happy. The best way to do that is end their self-imposed isolation. And you know what Herbert thinks."

He did indeed. His Intelligence Officer believed that if the DPRK generals were opposed to the President's policies, they'd have thrown him out. The sudden death of long-time leader Kim II Sung in 1994 left enough of a power void that they could have moved in if they didn't like what was happening.

Liz folded the gum into her mouth. "I know you don't think the psych division is very scientific, and you'd be happy as an elf if we were shut down. Okay. We didn't figure on the police overreaction in Philly. But we've worked on the North Koreans for years, and I'm sure we've got this right!"

A computer monitor to his left beeped. Hood glanced at the E-mail message from Bugs Benet: the other Task Force members were ready for the teleconference. Hood pushed the ALT key to acknowledge, then regarded Liz.

"I believe in first impressions, not in psychology. But I've never met the North Korean leaders, so I have to rely on you. Here's what I need."

Liz uncapped her pen and began writing.

"I want you to go back to your data and give me a fresh profile of the top North Korean leaders factoring in the following: even if they didn't endorse that attack, how will they react to a Defcon 5 mobilization on our part, to a possible South Korean reprisal in Pyongyang, and whether any of the DPRK generals are crazy enough to have authorized something like this without a presidential okay.

"I also want you to recheck that study you gave the CONEX people about China. You said that the Chinese wouldn't want to get into a war on the peninsula, but that a few officials might push for it. Write up who and why and send a copy to Amba.s.sador Rachlin in Beijing so he can do whatever stroking he feels is necessary."

When they were finished-- indicated, as always, by the Director's exasperated exhaling, of which he probably wasn't even aware-- Liz stood and Hood buzzed her out. Before the door had shut again, Op-Center's Interpol/FBI liaison Darrell McCaskey stepped in. Hood acknowledged the short, wiry, prematurely gray ex-FBI man and, when McCaskey was seated, Hood tapped the Control key on his keyboard. As he did, the monitor divided into six equal sections, three across and two down. Five of them were live television images of the other attendees at that morning's meeting; the sixth was Bugs Benet who would monitor the transcription minutes of the meeting. There was a black bar at the bottom for messages: if it was necessary for Hood to be updated on developments in Korea, the Op-Center Situation Room would send a concise message crawling across the screen.

Hood didn't understand why it was necessary to see the people he was talking to, but wherever hi-tech was available it was used, whether it was pertinent or not. The whole setup reminded him of the opening of The Brady Bunch.

The audio for each image was controlled by the F b.u.t.tons on the keyboard, and before he turned on the others he hit F6 to talk to Bugs.

"Has Mike Rodgers come in yet?"

"Not yet. But the team has taken the field, so he should be here shortly."

"Send him over when he arrives. Does Herbert have anything for us?"

"Also negative. Our intelligence people in the DPRK were as surprised as we were by all this. He's in touch with the KCIA, and I'll let you know when they have something."

Hood thanked him, then regarded the faces of his colleagues as he tapped Fl through F5.

"Can everyone hear me?"

Five heads nodded.

"Good. Gentlemen, it was my impression-- and correct me if I'm wrong-- that the President wants to be decisive in his handling of this crisis."

"And victorious," Av Lincoln's little image added.

"And victorious. Which means that the carrots we suggest may be a lot shorter than our sticks. Steve, you have the policy files."

The National Security Adviser turned slightly to look at another monitor in his office. "Our policy on the peninsula is governed, of course, by treaty with the South. Within that framework, we are committed to the following: to work toward the stabilization of both sides, politically. To denuclearize the North and promote the NPT; to maintain a North/South dialogue; to follow our historic consultation procedure with j.a.pan and China; to become immediately and closely involved in any initiatives undertaken by either side; and to make sure that no third party takes a more active hand in the foregoing than the United States."

"In short," said the Secretary of State, "we keep all our fingers in the pie."

Hood took a moment to look from face to face. There was no need to invite further comment: if anyone had anything to say, they'd say it.

"Strategies, then," he said. "Mel, what do the Joint Chiefs of Staff feel we should do?"

"We only spoke briefly," he said, using two fingers to smooth down his thin mustache. "But Ernie, Mel, Greg, and I were talking before you arrived at the White House, and we're all of a mind about this. Regardless of whether the bombing was an officially sanctioned act or not, we will seek to contain it through diplomatic channels. The DPRK will be a.s.sured of continuing bilateral talks, of increased trade, and of our help in maintaining the current regime."

"The only caveat," said blond, youthful-looking CIA Director Greg Kidd, "is whether economic and political rewards will be enough to deter them from a land grab. South Korea is the Holy Grail to them, particularly to some of the generals, who may not settle for anything less. Taking the South would also save them a fortune: the nuclear weapons program is a serious drain on the economy, and they could ratchet that down if they didn't have to worry about our nuclear presence in the South."

"So we may have a situation where it makes better fiduciary sense to unleash a conventional war rather than pursue an all-out nuclear arms race."

"Correct, Paul. Especially when they have to play catch-up against the U.S."

"If money is such a large part of this," Hood continued, "what can we do to put the screws to them financially?"

Av said, "I've got the Deputy Secretary of State on the phone with j.a.pan right now, but it's a touchy situation. Both Koreas still harbor a great deal of antagonism toward j.a.pan for atrocities during the Second World War, but the North and South are also trading partners with j.a.pan. If they can't stay on the sidelines, they're going to try very hard to maintain normal relations with both sides."

"Typical," Mel muttered.

"Understandable," Av countered. "The j.a.panese live in dread of war on the peninsula and the possibility that it will spread."

Greg Kidd said, "There's something else to consider. Failing neutrality, it's very likely that j.a.pan will side with the North."

"Against us?" Hood asked.

"Against us."

"Typical," Mel reiterated.

"The financial ties between j.a.pan and the DPRK go deeper than most people realize. The j.a.panese underworld has been investing drug and gambling profits heavily in the North we think with the tacit blessings of Tokyo."

"Why would the government sanction that?" asked Hood.

"Because of their fear that the North Koreans have Nodong 'Scud' missiles capable of crossing the sea. If there were a war, and the North Koreans wanted to play that trump card, the j.a.panese could take quite a pounding. Despite the great PR, our Patriot missiles took out a very small number of Scuds during the Gulf War. The j.a.panese will back us so long as they don't get their hair mussed."

Hood was silent for a moment. It was his job to pull threads and see where they took him, regardless of how bizarre it seemed on the surface. He turned to Deputy a.s.sistant Director McCaskey.

"Darrell, what's the name of the super-nationalists in j.a.pan, the ones that blew up the Mexico City stock exchange when Bush started pus.h.i.+ng NAFTA?"

"The Red Sky League."

"That's the one. As I recall, they oppose close j.a.panese ties with the U.S."

"True, though they've always taken immediate credit for anything they do. But you've got a point: this may be a third party operation, maybe arms dealers in the Middle East looking to make a killing selling to the North. I'll put some people on it."

The ex-FBI agent went to the computer on the other side of the room and began E-mailing his sources in Asia and Europe.

"That's an interesting notion," Greg Kidd said, "one I had as well. But arms sales may not be what's behind this. I've got people looking into whether someone is trying to draw us into a war while they go hog wild somewhere else, Iraq or the Haitians, for example. They know the American public would never stand for our soldiers fighting in two wars at the same time. If they can get us waist deep in Korea first, that'll leave them free to fight their own war."

Hood regarded Bugs Benet's small image. "Put those in the Options Paper as a footnote under PROBLEM. Whenever the h.e.l.l Rodgers gets here, he and Martha can hammer out an addendum." He looked back at the monitor. "Av, where do the Chinese stand in all this?"

"I spoke with their Foreign Minister just before the meeting. They insist they don't want war on their Manchurian border, but we also know they don't want a unified Korea there either. In time, it would grow into a capitalistic powerhouse that would spur envy and unrest among the Chinese. In the first case, you have refugees streaming into China, and in the second, Chinese trying to sneak into Korea for their bite of the apple."

"But Beijing is still providing money and military support to the North."

"A relatively modest amount."

"And if there's a war, will that increase or stop?"

Av flipped an invisible coin. "Politically, it could go either way."

"Unfortunately, we need a concensus on this for the President. Anyone care to commit?"

"What do you say?" Burkow asked.

Hood thought back to Liz Gordon's psych profile and took a leap of faith. "We a.s.sume they'll continue to support the North at present levels-- even if war erupts. That would allow them to support their old allies without unduly antagonizing the U.S."

"That sounds reasonable," said National Security Adviser Burkow, "but-- if you'll forgive me-- I think you're missing an important point. If the Chinese do increase their support, and the President has relied on our paper, we'll all have egg on our faces. If, however, we urge him to move substantial manpower into the Yellow Sea-- poised to strike at North Korea, but obviously keeping an eye on China-- then he'll be greatly relieved when Beijing does nothing."

"Unless they perceive our sea power as a threat," said Defense Secretary Colon. "Then they might be forced to become involved."

Hood thought for several seconds. "I suggest we downplay the China role."

"I agree," said Colon. "I can see almost no circ.u.mstance that would cause us to attack supply routes in China, so there's no reason to move guns into their neighborhood."

Hood was glad, but hardly surprised, that Colon agreed. Hood had never served in the military-- he lucked out on the draft lottery in 1969-- and one of the first things he learned about officers was how they're typically the last advisers to advocate the use of force. If they did, they wanted to know very clearly and explicitly the exit strategies for their troops.

"I'm with you on that, Ernie," said Av. "The Chinese have lived with our military presence in Korea for nearly half a century: they'll look the other way if war erupts and we use it. They don't want to lose favored nation trade status, not with their economy starting to percolate. And anyway, it will suit them to play the role of Great White Father and try to settle this thing for us."

Hood pushed F6 on the keyboard, then Control/F1 to see the current doc.u.ment. As the transcription had scrolled by Bugs Benet, he had merged the pertinent data with a blank Options Paper file. When the meeting was over, Hood would be able to go over the rough draft of the form, add or detract as necessary, and get it right over to the President.

His quick scan of the doc.u.ment revealed that they had everything they needed-- save for military options and the Task Force's opinion as to whether or not they'd be necessary.

"All right," he said. "Good work. Now let's hammer out the rest."

Relying mostly on Defense Secretary Colon and Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Parker, and referring to on-file policy papers, the team recommended a measured approach to full battlefield integration: continued slow deployment of troops, tanks, artillery, and Patriots, with nuclear, chemical, and biological depots on alert and ready to move.

Without new information from the KCIA and McCaskey's incomplete check on international terrorists, the Task Force recommended in addition that the President work through diplomatic channels to contain and resolve the crisis.

Hood gave the team members thirty minutes to look over the rough Options Paper and insert additional thoughts before he got to work on the final draft. As he finished up, Bugs cleared his throat.

"Sir, Deputy Director Rodgers would like to speak with you."

Hood looked up at the countdown clock; Rodgers had been out of touch for nearly three hours. Hood hoped he had a good explanation.

"Send him right in, Bugs."

Bugs looked like he wanted to loosen his collar; his round face grew red.

"I can't do that, sir."

"Why? Where is he?"

"On the phone."

Hood was reminded of the funny feeling he'd had when Rodgers quoted Lord Nelson. His features darkened. "Where is he?"

"Sir-- somewhere over the Virginia-Kentucky border."