Tom Clancy's Op-center_ Op-center Part 23

"Paul--"

"I know. Orly's got no future with the U.N."

"It isn't that," Sharon said. "I'd rather know than not know. It's the waiting. You know I was never good at that."

"Alex is going to be okay."

"You don't know that. I worked at a hospital, Paul. I know how these things can catch fire."

"Orly wouldn't leave if the situation was serious."

"Paul, there's nothing he can do! That's why he's leaving."

Ann walked in, her hands full of lunch; she stopped just inside the door when she saw Hood's expression.

Bugs sent an E-mail message crawling across the screen: Defense Secretary Colon wanted to talk to him.

"Listen," Sharon said, "I didn't get on the phone because I want you to drop what you're doing and come here. I just needed an anchor, okay?"

Hood heard the catch in her voice; she was fighting not to cry. "Of course it's okay, Sharon. Call me if anything happens-- or I'll call you as soon as I can."

She hung up, and Hood switched from the regular phone to the secure computer phone. He felt less than a husband, less than a father, and considerably less than a man.

"Paul," Colon said sullenly, "we've just learned that your man Donald sent an unauthorized radio transmission to the North, requesting a meeting with General Hong-koo."

"What?"

"Worse, they accepted. If it gets out, we'll spin it that the North contacted him, but you'd better get on the blower and try to talk him out of it. General Schneider gave it his best shot, but Donald intends to be at the meeting."

"Thanks," Hood said, and buzzed Bugs. He told him to contact the DMZ on the secure line and get Gregory Donald on the phone. Then he rang Liz Gordon and asked her to come in.

"You want me to leave this and go?" Ann asked.

"No. I want you to stay."

Her expression brightened.

"We may have a PR nightmare on our hands."

Her expression darkened.

"Sure," she said. She sat across the desk from Hood and set the lunches between them.

"What happened with Alex?" she asked.

"Trias said he's got a lung infection. He thinks he's got it under control, but you know Orly-- doesn't read people very well."

"Hmmmm," Ann said, her eyes darkening even more.

Hood picked up the fork and jabbed at a slice of tomato. "Any word from Matt on his own virus hunt?"

"Not that I've heard. Want me to check?"

"No thanks. I'll do it when I'm finished with Gregory. Poor guy must be going through h.e.l.l. We get so wrapped up in events here, we forget the people sometimes."

The secure phone beeped just as Liz Gordon and Lowell Coffey walked in. Donald's prefix appeared with the number at the display along the bottom. Hood motioned for Liz to close the door. She sat and Coffey stood behind Ann, who shifted uncomfortably. Hood hit the speaker phone.

"Gregory-- how are you?"

"All right. Paul, are you on the secure line?"

"Yes."

"Good. And you're on speaker?"

"Yes."

"Who's there, Liz, Ann, and Lowell?"

"That's the list."

"Of course. Then let's get right to it. I did radio Hong-koo, and he responded. I'm to meet him in five and a half hours. Why shoot bullets when you can shoot off your mouth, that's always been my motto."

"It's a good one, Greg, but not with the DPRK."

"That's what General Schneider said when he read me the riot act. He's going to leave me twisting in the wind. So is Washington, I'm told." He hesitated a moment. "Are you, Paul?"

"Give me a minute."

Hood hit the Mute b.u.t.ton and looked at Liz. From the corner of his eye, he saw Ann nodding solemnly. Lowell stood motionless. The Staff Psychologist sucked on her upper lip and then shook her head.

"Why not?" Hood asked.

"As his ally, you have a chance of changing his mind. If you're his adversary, he'll shut you out."

"What if I fire him?"

"It won't change a thing. He's a man who's had a severe shock today, who thinks he's behaving with restraint and compa.s.sion-- a common reaction-- and won't be dissuaded."

"Lowell, what if Schneider charges him with something-- misappropriation of government equipment when he made the radio broadcast, something like that-- and arrests him."

"It'll be a h.e.l.l of a messy trial, and we may have to reveal things we don't want to about the way we work."

"What if they only hold Greg twenty-four hours? Security reasons, some bulls.h.i.t like that."

"He may sue you. Same result."

"But he won't," Liz said. "I went over his file when you appointed him, Paul. He's never done anything vindictive. That was one of his problems, as far as his diplomatic career was concerned. He was a true Christian."

"Ann, what kind of press is up there?"

"As a rule, no one, they're all based in Seoul. But I'm sure reporters are scrambling for credentials and are on the way. They'll be looking to file any and all kinds of stories. Especially the holding of a former high-level diplomat."

Lowell said, "And what will the press do to us if Donald goes to the meeting and they find out that he's connected with Op-Center? We'll be portrayed as a bunch of kooks working outside the establishment."

"I hate to agree with Lowell," Ann said, "but he has a point."

"Donald won't say anything," Liz said. "Not even in anger. As far as the world is concerned, he works only for the U.S./Korean Friendship Society."

"But Schneider knows the truth," Lowell said, "and he can't be happy about this."

"He isn't," Hood said.

"There! And he may leak the news to the press, just to put the brakes on."

"I don't think we have to worry about that," Hood said. "He won't want to embarra.s.s the President by exposing an organization Lawrence himself established." Hood killed the Mute. "Greg, would you put this off if I could convince someone at the Emba.s.sy to join you?"

"Please, Paul. Amba.s.sador Hall would never agree to that without Presidential approval, and you won't get that."

"Postpone the meeting and let me try. Mike Rodgers is en route to j.a.pan. He'll be landing in Osaka around six. Let me talk to him about joining you."

"That's an 'A' for effort, but you know if I delay even a minute, the North Koreans will feel like I'm playing games with them. They're sensitive that way, and they won't give me a second turn at bat. I'm going. The only question remains, are you for me or against me?"

Hood sat perfectly still for a moment, then looked at the faces of his a.s.sociates. "I'm with you, Greg."

There was a long silence on the other end. "You caught me by surprise there, Paul. I thought you were going to shoot me down."

"So did I, for a while."

"Thanks for holding your fire."

"I hired you for your experience. Let's see if I made the right choice. If you want to talk again, I'll be here."

Hood hung up. Noticing the slice of tomato still on his fork, he ate it. Liz gave him a little thumbs-up. Ann and Lowell just stared.

Hood touched the intercom. "Bugs, please get me a progress report from Matt."

"Coming right up."

Lowell said, "Paul, this will finish off Donald and us."

"What would you have had me do? He was going anyway, and I won't leave one of my people out there alone." Hood chewed slowly. "Besides, he may pull something off. He's a good man."

"Exactly," said Ann. "And everyone knows it. When video of Donald and the North Koreans is on the late night news tonight-- video of a man who lost his wife and is still willing to forgive-- we'll all be looking for jobs."

"That's okay," Coffey said. "We can go to work for North Korea. They'll owe us one."

"Have some faith," Hood said. He waved a finger between Coffey and Ann. "And you two have a plan in place in case he does screw up."

The phone beeped and Hood picked up. It was Stoll.

"Paul," he said, "I was about to call you. You'd better come over and see what I've found."

Hood was already out of his seat. "Give me the short of it."

"The short of it is, we've been had-- big-time."

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE.

Wednesday, 2:35 A.M., the Diamond Mountains

The Nodong missiles were modified North Korean Scuds.

The construction was virtually identical, one stage with a payload of up to two hundred pounds and a range of five hundred miles. With a payload of seventy-five pounds of high explosives, the Nodong could fly nearly six hundred miles. It was accurate within a half-mile radius of its target.

Like the Scuds, the Nodongs could be launched from fixed sites or mobile launchers. Silo launchers made it possible to launch multiple strikes within an hour, but were highly vulnerable to enemy retaliation. Mobile launchers could only carry one missile and had to be brought to hidden stockpiles for reloading.

Both the fixed and mobile launchers were operated by a one-key system, once the launch coordinates were programmed into the computer. Turning the key began a two-minute countdown, during which time the launch command could only be stopped with both the key and a cancellation code. The code was known only to the officer in charge. In the event that he was unable to give it, the second in command had to get the code from Pyongyang.

The Nodong was a relatively unsophisticated system as missiles went. But it was effective in its purpose, which was to keep Seoul honest with the threat of sudden destruction from the skies. Even with Patriot missiles in place, the danger was still very real: designed to track and strike at the missile itself, the Patriot often left the warhead intact, allowing it to fall and explode somewhere in the target zone.

Colonel Ki-Soo was the ranking officer at the site in the Diamond Mountains, and when the guard post radioed ahead to tell him of the arrival of Colonel Sun, he was taken by surprise. Resting in his tent, which was situated at the foot of a steep hill, the bald, oval-faced officer rose and greeted the jeep as it arrived. Sun handed him his orders without being asked, and Ki-Soo retired to his blackout tent.

When the tent flap was secure, he switched on the lantern, withdrew the papers from the leather pouch, and unfolded the single sheet: Office of the High Command Pyongyang, June 15, 4:30 P.M.

From: Colonel Dho Oko To: Colonel Kim Ki-Soo Colonel Lee Sun has been dispatched by General Pil of Intelligence Operations to oversee the security of the missiles under your command. He will not interfere with your operation unless it directly affects the security of the site.

Affixed to the bottom of the doc.u.ment were the seals of the General of the Armed Forces and of General Pil.

Ki-Soo carefully folded the doc.u.ment and replaced it in the pouch. It was authentic, but something didn't seem right about it. Sun had come with two agents-- one man to guard each missile, which was sensible enough. Yet something wasn't right.

He looked at the field phone and thought about calling headquarters. Boots crunched on the gravel outside. Ki-Soo doused the lantern and pulled the flap aside: Colonel Sun was standing in the dark, facing the tent. His hands were clasped behind his back and his body was rigid.

"Is everything all right?"

"It appears to be," said Ki-Soo, "though I'm curious about one thing."