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Authors: Gunnar Duvstig

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BOOK: The Nightmare Scenario
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AUGUST 18
TH
, 9 AM, THE WHITE HOUSE BASEMENT LEVEL, WASHINGTON D.C.

T
he president marched along the subterranean floor of the White House with determined steps, the soles of his shoes clacking against the hardwood floor, echoed by the footsteps of three half-jogging Secret Service agents surrounding him. Behind the posse were the Chief of Staff and Hank Wiley. Hank was struggling to keep up. He was trying to continue his briefing, although he was so short of breath that it was difficult to speak.

It didn’t matter. The president had stopped listening a long time ago. Combining the words “North Korea” and “biological weapons” was all it took. This was unprecedented.

It wasn’t uncommon for the president to be woken by his staff during a crisis, but never, not even when his team announced they had reliable intelligence on
Osama Bin Laden’s location, had he been so quick to leave the residence. It was any president’s worst nightmare. And he was living it.

He pushed through the Situation Room doors and found it bustling with activity. His entire national security team was there, apart from the CIA director, who was not in Washington. They all looked like they had been even more rushed than him. Unshaven faces, yesterday’s wrinkled shirts and bloodshot eyes were all around.

They would have had an hour on him to get briefed, while the CIA worked to verify the intelligence before waking the president, but it didn’t seem like they were on top of it yet. Some were on phones talking hurriedly. Some had staffers leaning over their shoulders pointing at the desks in front of them, guiding them through documents. Yet some were desperately scribbling on papers trying to organize their opinions.

As he entered, the whole room instantly rose, the uniforms jerking into attention.

“At ease,” the president commanded, while choosing not to take a seat himself. Instead he slammed both his palms onto the table and leaned forward.

“Someone, please tell me this is
not
happening?”

The people around the room exchanged nervous glances, but no one spoke. It
was
indeed happening.

“Do we have the WHO Director-General on the line?”

An aide flicked on the screen and Dr. Aeolus Pentecost Hughes appeared with Richard Lane at his side.

The president was once again reminded what a peculiar character the WHO director was.

There was something almost effeminate about the way he continuously adjusted his cuffs, tie-knot and collar to perfection. His blond, slightly unkempt hair and that cane made him look like an aloof philosophy professor. Not the type that would go well down with the boys in the South.

And yet there was something contradictory about his appearance. His erect posture, his extreme economy of movement, and precise, conductor-like gesticulations conveyed great authority. Any doubt of his masculine power was extinguished when you met his gaze: focused, unwavering and unapologetic, with that spark in his eyes that came with supreme mental ability. This was the one man in the room who wouldn’t follow his orders without question. The last time the president met him he had seen this as pompous arrogance, but now it inspired respect. If there was ever a time when he needed an unyielding contrarian as an advisor, it was now.

“Dr. Hughes,” said the president, “you concur with Hank’s opinion that this virus originated in a bio-weapons lab in North Korea?”

“Yes, Mr. President, the source has unimpeachable credibility,” answered Aeolus.

“The CIA has confirmed it via back-channels as well,” added the Secretary of State, “although the Russians will never admit to it publicly.”

“Well, that puts things in a completely different light, now doesn’t it?” the president said.

“As you all know, I have pursued a foreign policy agenda based on the idea that we have undervalued
diplomacy and had an excessive belief in the effectiveness of military solutions. As such, I’ve ordered the withdrawal of American troops from several conflict zones. I think you would all agree this approach has been a success. We’ve achieved our objectives without wasting American lives, while at the same time strengthening our relationships with our allies as well as historical antagonists. But, it has led to criticism against me in the conservative press. Some people have the impression that I am a gun-shy leader. That perception is about to change.

“The difference in this situation is that we are not waging war against states that harbor terrorists, while not themselves being involved in military action against the United States. We’re not talking about nation building to promote democracy. What we are talking about is a premeditated attack with a biological agent banned in international treaties.”

“Excuse me, Mr. President,” interrupted Aeolus, “Just to be clear. We don’t know for sure that it was intentional. It could have been an accidental release.”

“In any case, we’re going to assume the worst,” the president continued, turning to Hank. “Have any of our NATO allies had cases yet?”

“We have a suspected, but not confirmed, case in Greece, Mr. President.”

“That’s all we need. I’m going to invoke Article Five of the NATO treaty. ‘An armed attack against one is to be considered an attack against all.’ That will give us
casus belli
. We will launch a full-scale retaliatory strike against North Korea.”

“Excuse me, Mr. President,” Aeolus interrupted again, “If you’re referring to a nuclear strike, or indiscriminate carpet-bombing with MOABs, I’d ask you to bear in mind that it’s possible the lab from which this virus originates also contains a vaccine or, at the very least, research that we sorely need. We might even find the man behind this atrocity. We don’t know where the lab is and there is, consequently, a chance that an attack uninformed by solid intelligence could destroy it.”

“I doubt there’s much to be found,” Hank interjected. “The scientist in question will be long gone. He was in his fifties when he defected. That would make him one of the oldest men in the world if he was still around.”

“So, it has to be a conventional attack,” said the president, choosing Aeolus’s advice over Hank’s. “Airstrikes against the air defenses, airfields and mechanized units, followed by a ground force. I want a full-scale invasion. Anything but complete and unconditional surrender is an unacceptable outcome.”

“Excuse me, Mr. President,” the Secretary of Defense interjected. “There’s a snag with a conventional invasion as well. It’s the same problem we have had ever since the armistice. Seoul is within artillery range of the southernmost North Korean positions. They could obliterate the entire city. Were talking about ten million civilian lives. And this is one of our most steadfast allies. What would it say to our other allies? And preemptive evacuation isn’t an option either. The North Koreans would do anything to avoid losing their crown jewel of threats.”

The president sighed in resignation and finally sat down. “You have to wonder, if Truman had realized what would follow, would he have stopped General MacArthur at the Thirty-Eighth Parallel?”

After a brief moment of contemplation he snapped out it. “Enough of this! We are under
attack
and we are
not
going to sit idle. We
will
respond! Draw up a scenario that doesn’t destroy the lab, is a commensurate response and minimizes the collateral damage on our side. Collateral damage on their side is not part of the equation. And I want it in twelve hours. Is that clear?”

“Mr. President,” said the Secretary of State. He was an old friend, and could push advice in situations where the discussion was otherwise over. “We could try to ask the Chinese to intervene.”

“The Chinese have
never
been able to give us any meaningful help with the North Koreans.”

“They might see it differently this time, since it also involves their own national interest.”

“Do the Chinese know about the North Koreans?” the president asked.

“Yes,” said Aeolus, “I’ve been in contact with my counterparts there and they have most certainly passed it up the chain. Let’s just say, they are not pleased.”

The president considered his decision. He didn’t like what they were saying, but there was clearly some logic to it. Was he acting out of rage? Could he be emotionally compromised? His career had advance so rapidly precisely because his brain was in firm control of his heart. At this moment he wasn’t so certain of that.

One by one, he studied the people around the table. The result was as expected. The Secretary of State nodded his head, always against any use of force, while the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, always in favor, shook his head. The rest chose not to weigh in, either by projecting expressions of thoughtful consideration, or by avoiding his gaze altogether.

This meant only thing. It was a difficult call. And it was a big call - call that would decide the course of history. Exactly the type of decision it was his job to make.

He glanced at the screen and thought, although he couldn’t be certain, that the WHO’s Director-General gave an imperceptible nod.

So the president made his decision. Not because he cared about the WHO leader’s opinion. What could that possibly know about politics, military matters or any of the other major considerations that had to be weighed for a decision like this?

No, it wasn’t that. It was the man’s calm and confidence, standing in such stark contrast against the anxiety of his other advisors. It helped him find his own ground.

He announced his decision and asked his staff to set up a call with the chairman of the Communist Party. The person in him wanted to nod back at Aeolus, but the president in him knew that was unthinkable. Instead he gave a dismissive wave for the video link to be terminated, without any acknowledgement of what had just happened.

Half an hour later, the president was at his desk, talking to the chairman on the phone. He’d never understood why they didn’t have a video-link to Beijing, but for some reason they didn’t. It didn’t matter. He preferred it this way. It was by means of phone that presidents before him had averted world-threatening conflicts.

“Mr. Chairman.”

“Mr. President.”

This was not the time for pleasantries. Better to get straight to the point.

“In the opinion of our foremost experts, the influenza virus, which poses a great threat to the population of both our nations, originated in North Korea, in a bio-weapons lab to be more precise.”

“Our experts concur.”

“I’m calling to inform you that we will, within twelve hours, launch a retaliatory strike against North Korea, the primary objective of which will be to locate the lab and retrieve whatever research there is to aid our efforts to develop countermeasures to the infection.”

“I would propose, Mr. President, that you let us handle it. Our way will be quicker and time is of the essence.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Chairman, and I say this with all due respect, but your ability to control North Korea has hitherto not inspired confidence.”

“This situation is different, Mr. President. In this case, I assure you, our interests are completely aligned.”

“You have to understand North Korea, Mr. President,” continued the chairman. “North Korea is
like a naughty child. Whenever his father scolds him, he gets in line for a moment, but is soon playing pranks again. When his father brings out the stick, though, he knows it is serious, and repents. Well, Mr. President, it is time for us to bring out the stick. What is it your Christian bible says, ‘Spare the rod – spoil the child’?”

“Our bible doesn’t actually say that and I generally don’t agree with the sentiment, but in this case I couldn’t agree with you more. Exactly what will this stick entail?”

“The movement of 750,000 troops to the North Korean border.”

“Seven hundred and fifty thousand? That would be, what, your nine northeastern army groups?”

“Yes, and naturally, this leaves us momentarily slightly exposed, and we cannot have
any
problems.”

“Don’t worry about that Mr. Chairman, I’ll make sure the Taiwanese don’t so much as squeak. Also, the Russians and Indians are completely onboard.”

“Well, Mr. President. It will take us twelve hours to move into position. If at that time you decide to move your Seventh Fleet into position for a strike and start evacuating Seoul, we would not object. It will show the unity between our countries, and our joint resolve.”

“Understood, Mr. Chairman. You have twelve hours. Not that I don’t trust you, but we will be monitoring your troop movements on keyhole and if we don’t see what we expect, we will proceed with an invasion of North Korea.”

“Those terms are acceptable to us, Mr. President.”

“Mr. Chairman, I believe this conversation has been one of the most productive held between our countries in modern times, if not ever.”

“I would agree, Mr. President.”

“If we get out of this alive, and you need a favor sometime in the future, say in the UN or at the WTO, you have a check to cash in with us.”

“I would expect nothing less, Mr. President.”

AUGUST 19
TH
, 12 AM, 10 MILES NORTH OF CHOUCH’ON VILLAGE, CHAGANG PROVINCE, NORTH KOREA

BOOK: The Nightmare Scenario
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