Ben Bova: Able One

“Pyongyang has been on the wire with us for three hours now,” said the Secretary of State. Her normally cool demeanor was gone; she looked just as worried—almost frightened—as the rest of the people in the Oval Office.

“They’re pissing themselves, they’re so scared,” the National Security Advisor added, with a grim smile. A former admiral, he still looked as if he were in uniform, despite his light gray hand-tailored three-piece suit. His silver hair was tousled, though; he’d been running his hands through it since this meeting had begun.

Frowning slightly at him, the Secretary of State said, “The North Korean government is begging us to show some restraint—”

“Restraint?” the President snapped. “They’ve attacked us!”

State raised a brow. “‘Someone has attacked not only us but the whole civilized world. It’s not just our satellites that have been wiped out. But Pyongyang says it wasn’t them.”

“That missile came from North Korea,” said the Secretary of Defense in his heavy, rasping voice. “We traced its launch and its orbital track.”

“But it wasn’t launched from one of their regular launching bases,” State insisted. “Pyongyang assures us that the North Korean government did not authorize the launch or the detonation of that bomb in orbit.”

“What difference does that make?” the President growled. “It came from their territory. It’s knocked out just about every satellite in orbit.”

“Except for our hardened birds,” Defense pointed out. He was the oldest man in the room, a former longtime senator, bald and jowly. He and the Secretary of State had been senators together and rivals for the nomination that the man behind the desk had won.

State raised a manicured hand. “Wait a minute. Since Kim Jong Il died last year North Korea’s been in turmoil, practically civil war.”

“Their military took control of the government,” the National Security Advisor said.

“Yes,” State agreed, “but there are factions within the military. One of the rebel factions must have fired that missile.”

“What difference does that make?”

“Pyongyang tells us they’re sending troops to the site where the missile was launched. They’re asking us to allow them to solve the problem by themselves.”

“Won’t wash,” said the Security Advisor.

“Are you saying we should send in our own troops?” the President asked.

“Or hit that launch site with an air strike?” State added.

The Security Advisor turned slightly toward the oversized television screen mounted on the wall between portraits of Theodore and Franklin Roosevelt. Without asking the President’s permission, he half rose from his chair and reached for the remote control unit on the desk.

The wall screen flickered, then showed a satellite image of rugged, mountainous country. Snowpacks covered many of the peaks; from orbit they looked like bony white fingers stretching across the bare brown mountains.

“NRO satellite imagery, two hours old,” said the Security Advisor. “That’s the area where the missile came from.”

The view zoomed in dizzyingly, then steadied to show a leveled area of ground where a dozen brown military trucks were parked in a ragged circle. At the center of the circle two missiles were standing on portable launch pads. A third pad was empty.

“That’s where the missile was launched,” said the Security Advisor. “As you can see, they have two more ready to go.”

The President sagged back in his chair. “They’re armed with nukes?”

“We’ve got to assume that they are.”

“Hit them now!” the Secretary of Defense urged. “I can get a submarine within range in a few hours. Wipe them out with one missile.”

The President’s eyes never left the image on the screen. “In a few hours they could launch both those missiles.”

“What’s their range?” asked Defense. “Could they hit us?”

The CIA director said, “Our people have identified them as Taepodong-2s. From where they’re sited now they could reach Alaska or Hawaii.”

“The West Coast?” asked the President.

“No, that’s a bit beyond their range.”

The President smiled weakly. “Good. I’m scheduled to give a speech in San Francisco tonight.”

“But they could hit Japan,” said the Security Advisor.

“The Japanese will go apeshit when they see this,”

Defense rumbled, almost as if he was enjoying the thought.

CIA pointed out, “You remember a couple of years ago North Korea launched a whole series of missiles across the Pacific and we didn’t do anything about it.”

“Those were just tests,” said the President.

“Yes, and now they put a bird into orbit. We’ve got to assume those other two missiles they’ve got on their pads won’t be tests, either. They could hit Hawaii, the Philippines, even northern Australia.”

“Screw Australia,” the Defense Secretary snapped. “They could wipe out Honolulu! We’ve got to take them out!” Banging a fist on the arm of his chair, Defense insisted, “We’ve got to!”

“And start World War III?” the Secretary of State countered. “How do you think the Chinese would react if we hit North Korea?”

“Hell, their satellites have been knocked out, too.”

The President asked, “What do the Chinese have to say about this?”

State hesitated a fraction of a moment, then replied, “It’s been difficult communicating with them. The satellites are down and we don’t have a direct cable link with Beijing.”

“They’re being inscrutable, I bet,” said Defense, allowing himself a tight smile.

“They have a fleet of nuclear missiles with the range to reach every city in the United States,” the Secretary of State said firmly.

The CIA director spoke up again. “Do we want to take the risk of starting World War III? A nuclear war?”

“I do not,” said the President.

“But those missiles,” the Security Advisor said, jabbing an accusing finger at the wall screen. “They’re going to fire them. And soon, before Pyongyang’s troops can reach the site.”

Turning to the Homeland Security director, the President said, “How soon can you get Hawaii and Alaska alerted?”

Homeland Security looked startled. He had formerly been the head of one of the nation’s largest construction companies, known to the media as a can-do kind of executive who wasn’t afraid to roll up his sleeves and get his hands dirty.

“We’re talking about evacuating Honolulu?” he asked.

“And Anchorage, maybe Juneau.”

“On a half hour’s notice,” added Defense.

The former construction executive shook his head. “We’d have to start right now.”

“That’s going to cause quite a panic,” State pointed out.

“But you can’t evacuate a city the size of Honolulu in half an hour!” Homeland Security said, almost pleading. “You’ve got to start right away. Now.”

“Wait a minute,” the President said. “What about our missile defense system?”

All eyes turned to the Secretary of Defense, who shifted uneasily in his chair. He and the President had cut funding for missile defense every year they’d been in office.

“Um… the system’s still in a test and evaluation stage.” Defense temporized.

“I was told it was operational,” said the President.

“It was declared operational...” Defense let the implications hang in the air.

“You mean we couldn’t shoot down those missiles if the North Koreans launch them?”

“When they launch them,” the Security Advisor corrected.

“Can we shoot them down or can’t we?” the President demanded.

Defense answered with a shrug and said, “We can try. But we certainly couldn’t stop a full-scale Chinese attack.”