Mark Greaney - Full Force and Effect

“Yes,” Ri said. Okay, so we are, in fact, going to talk about the problems at Missile Guidance Bureau.

Choi sipped the Cognac. “We must produce better rockets. Able to fly further and more reliably. We must develop, develop, develop!”

“I agree completely,” Ri said. Choi was used to hearing this, of course, no matter the topic. The last time Choi Ji-hoon had heard the words “I disagree,” he was nine years old.

“The plutonium weapons are in our arsenal. Our uranium enrichment is progressing. We have miniaturized the bombs into warheads. Our nation has the power, but not the mechanism to deliver the power. We need a ballistic missile capable of delivering the warhead.”

Now Ri cocked his head in surprise. “I am told the Rodong system performed flawlessly in its most recent test. My eyes have been focused outward at RGB. Have I been misinformed?”

Choi waved a hand. “Rodong has a range of nine hundred kilometers. This makes it merely a defensive weapon. Yes, we can obliterate Seoul, but this will not protect us from America. They would gladly sacrifice South Korea in order to destroy us in North Korea. We need something with the range to reach the continental United States. The Taepodong-2 is not operational, and despite what I am being told by RGB, I don’t think it soon will be.”

Ri assumed his nation’s military leaders had received an earful from their grand marshal. Fortunately for Ri, however, he and his department had not been given responsibility for the development of the ballistic systems.

Unfortunately for Ri, he feared this was about to change.

Choi leaned forward. “Our military, our scientists, they have been unable to provide us with the technology we need. I want you to go out and get it.”

Ri thought of the nonproliferation sanctions. Of the naval blockade that checked shipping cargo in the Yellow Sea and the Sea of Japan. He thought of the tight controls on the manufacture and sale of items involved in the construction of all things rocket, including dual-use items that the West feared might be smuggled into North Korea.

In short, he thought of the dozens of barriers in front of him.

But he said the only thing he could say. “Of course, Dae Wonsu. I will not fail.”

“You have three years.”

Now he thought of the seven dogs of Chongjin and he wondered if they were already hungry again after consuming General Gang.

“Three years? Three years for . . .”

“Three years to see that the Taepodong-2 is operational with our Missile Guidance Bureau.”

A purple vein on Ri’s forehead pulsed a few times, but he made no overt reaction. “That is not much time.”

“Three years is more time than I should give you. Does our nation have three years before our enemies attack?”

In a measured tone the general said, “I confess I do not know.”

“No, you don’t. The only thing that will stop an attack is the Taepodong-2. Operational and dependable. Our nuclear scientists have done their job. They have successfully miniaturized the device. But we have to be able to deliver it to the United States mainland.”

Choi held up three fingers. “Three years. Three years until I find someone else.”

Ri knew what would happen to him if Choi decided to find someone else.

11

Present day

Shortly before nine a.m. three large Chevy Suburbans rolled into the garage under the North Fairfax Street offices of Hendley Associates. The vehicles pulled up to an entrance, and out of view from the street all the doors on all the Suburbans opened as one, and a phalanx of young armed men stepped out. Soon a distinguished sixty-three-year-old woman climbed out of the center vehicle and moved purposefully to the entrance, where she was greeted by Gerry Hendley, ex–South Carolina senator and the director of both Hendley Associates and The Campus.

Gerry thought Director of National Intelligence Mary Pat Foley looked tired and worn. He knew she had been working hard since taking over the DNI job. She was the top intelligence official of the top intelligence community in the world, after all, so there was no surprise the position came with long hours and high stress. But even so, Gerry saw in Mary Pat a deep concern.

Together the two of them rode the elevator up to the fourth-floor conference room. On the way up Mary Pat said, “I like the new place.” She tried a smile, but Gerry had known Mary Pat and her husband, Ed, for years, and he could tell she was just going through the motions of small talk.

He made it easy on her. “Thanks very much. We were lucky to get the place. A private military contractor gave it up, and we moved in. It was stocked for our needs, we basically just switched out the locks and plugged in our computers.”

She nodded politely.

Gerry said, “I’m very sorry about Colin Hazelton. You knew him well, did you?”

Mary Pat nodded again, but made no reply.

A minute later they entered the conference room. The five men sitting at the table stood and came forward. John Clark, Domingo Chavez, Dominic Caruso, Sam Driscoll, and Jack Ryan, Jr., all shook hands with the DNI before sitting back down.

Mary Pat was here this morning because The Campus had been sent to Vietnam on her personal request. As DNI, Mary Pat had every intelligence asset in the U.S. government at her disposal, but she had reached out to Gerry Hendley and his team for help in the matter of Colin Hazelton because she wanted to keep the inquiry sensitive and below official channels.

Needless to say, she now felt that decision to have been a grave error.

John Clark began the meeting by running through everything that had happened between the time the Campus team arrived in Ho Chi Minh City and the moment their Gulfstream took off over the Gulf of Thailand with the body of Colin Hazelton hidden behind an access panel. He had the other members of the unit give their own perspective on specific events. Mary Pat sat quietly throughout the presentations, but she looked nearly overcome with emotion when Domingo relayed finding the wounded Hazelton in the street and his attempts to save him.

Ding had never seen Mary Pat like this, and he quickly toned down the level of detail in an attempt to spare her some discomfort.

Mary Pat seemed skeptical when she heard that Colin had written the letters DPRK in his last note, and she asked to look at the paper herself. Clark handed it over, and she had as much trouble deciphering the letters as the others.

When everyone was finished with the after-action report, Mary Pat took a moment to collect her thoughts. She said, “I could have stopped this before it got out of hand. I didn’t know the stakes,” she said. “Had I known . . . Christ. I thought this was just a corporate intelligence issue. Shady, maybe. Crooked at worst. But not this .”

Clark replied softly, “I wouldn’t be surprised if Hazelton thought it was just a corporate intelligence issue as well. His threat posture didn’t indicate he thought for a second he was in any physical danger.”

Mary Pat then said, “I feel I know the answer, but I have to rule it out so I will ask anyway. Any chance at all this was just random street crime?”

Jack Junior took this one. “None. I was the one watching when he was confronted. These guys were skilled, they locked on to Hazelton and trailed him for blocks. I don’t know why he was targeted or killed, but I do know there wasn’t anything random to it.”

Foley seemed satisfied by the answer, though she was still visibly upset.

Gerry said, “Now, Mary Pat, it should come as no surprise we have questions for you. Why did you have us tail Hazelton? I assumed you suspected him of being involved in something illegal?”