Code Word: Paternity, A Presidential Thriller (22 page)

Chapter 40

Human beings usually oversimplify and
then misapply lessons of a notorious disaster. Katrina-driven lesson number one
in Mayor Funk’s head was ‘evacuate at the first sign of serious trouble.’ The
second was ‘if you don’t know the risk, overstating is better than
understating.’

He put both lessons to use, announcing
that a nuclear bomb had been discovered in the port of Baltimore
and people in the area should immediately evacuate to a distance of at least
ten miles. He promised further updates when available and introduced the
director of public safety, who read evacuation routes and other instructions in
a frightened voice.

Rick watched in helpless fury.

Soon every building and parking area in
Baltimore’s Inner Harbor district was gushing people and cars, but quickly the
gush became a trickle as vehicles and humans filled all available streets and
sidewalks, congealing in a heaving, shouting mass that pulsed angrily but went
nowhere.

Guarini’s phone rang. Samantha Yu
exploded in his ear: “Bart, I need a statement to release or somebody at policy
level to speak to the press, and I need it
now
!”

Guarini agreed and was about to tell her
he was on the way. Click!
How about the
vice president?
said a voice in his head. He asked Yu.

“Bart, that’s
crazy! He’s in Nevada
today.”

“So what? We can patch him to the press
room and he can answer questions. He’s the guy the president put in charge of
homeland security; let him face that wolf pack!”

“Bart, don’t you
get
it? He’s out there with his own coterie of reporters. Guess
which group will get the lion’s share of his attention! He’ll marginalize the
White House press and play to his pack of wannabes. The White House reporters
will never, ever forgive the Martin administration. It’s a non-starter!”

Shit,
I should have thought of that!

“Sam, you’re
right. OK, I’m heading your way.”

“Thanks, Bart.”

“Sam needs help
and you’re going, right?” said the president.

“Yes.”

“Right decision, wrong guy. You stay here
and help John pull together the NSC and work up some options. I’ll help Sam.”

The chief of staff’s disagreement was so
sharp he forgot protocol: “Rick, you
can’t
do that! You don’t know any more than John and I do, which is not jack shit!
They’ll skin you alive and then fight over your bones!”

“I don’t know more than you do about this
bomb, but I do know this: I’m the president. I’m the one with the red button.
I’m the one who will make the decisions about how we respond, so I’m the best
one to go live now and calm things down. We just defeated a major attack
without the loss of a single life—unless someone gets trampled in Baltimore. People need to
hear me say that.”

Guarini
nodded and hit speed dial to Sam.
              

“Ladies and gentlemen, the president!”
Sam barely had time to utter the words before Rick was at her side. The room’s
uproar dropped to a low hum.

Martin stood at the podium, the White
House logo visible behind him. He had about him the calm of absolute certainty.

“Ladies and gentlemen . . . Ladies and
gentlemen! I want to give you and the American people a brief report on what
just happened in Baltimore and what it means for
America.”

The immediate, total concentration of
dozens of journalists seemed to suck all extraneous sound from the room.

“A few hours ago, alert and courageous
homeland security forces in the port
of Baltimore detected a
nuclear bomb being smuggled into the country inside a sea container. The
various security systems worked correctly, people responded alertly and
bravely, and we now have the bomb under examination aboard a military aircraft
out over the Atlantic. I am sure you join me
in prayers for the safety of that air crew and the bomb experts, who as I speak
are doing their duty at the risk of their lives.”

Rick leaned over the podium, projecting
himself into the room, eyes hard and certain.

“Although some will try to tell you
otherwise, this is a great victory for the United States of America! We have
defeated an attack that was intended to push us into panic and despair,
without—so far—the loss of a single life. We have taken from those who tried
this attack an irreplaceable asset: the nuclear weapon they intended to use.
From that weapon we will determine its origin, its paternity if I may say so,
and take appropriate action. We will take that action deliberately and calmly,
bearing in mind both the safety of Americans and our country’s ideals. Our
defenses are strong, as demonstrated today, and our resolution is even
stronger. We will not only prevail over nuclear terrorism—this nation will work
successfully with other nations to put measures in place that will end this
twenty-first-century scourge!

“I must go now.
May God bless and protect those in that airplane and this country!”

Martin left swiftly, ignoring questions,
buoyed by a belief that in this moment the country had turned the corner.

It had, but not the corner he believed.
Panic surged from Baltimore
faster than any flash flood ever roared down a valley. Via Twitter and instant
messaging, MySpace and Facebook, blogs, texts, and
e-mail,
the raw emotions of several hundred thousand
frightened people were
connected directly to the nervous systems of friends, acquaintances, business
associates, and total strangers. Those they touched passed that fear along to
their own contacts, often adding their own concerns.

Panic spread at Internet speed.

A few officials reacted as best they
could, uploading video of the president’s press room appearance to YouTube and
the president’s Facebook page. The keeper of the president’s Twitter account
sent reassuring tweets as fast as she could think of them.

Their efforts were sandbags against a
tidal wave.

***

Fahim turned off the motel television.
The whore he’d brought for cover, so no one would wonder why he was checking in
at 2 p.m., was snoring gently on the bed, unused of course.

He knew he’d
just been touched by the hand of Allah.

How had they found it? Perhaps some new
technology, perhaps just luck. Except it wasn’t luck; whatever happened to the
bomb was the will of Allah. It was not Allah’s will that the United States
be bathed in his fire again. In the instant of Allah’s touch he
knew
that.

I
will continue to fight. I will go to the mountains, perhaps to Idaho, or Montana.
No one will notice me among the panicked Americans fleeing their cities. They
accept loners in those mountains; I will not be unusual or suspicious if I live
by myself in an isolated area. The Base knows I will do that and they will find
me and send me bombers to wear my vests and drive my trucks.

Fahim methodically wiped the room of
their fingerprints. The woman stirred and mumbled.
She’s an infidel whore and she can identify me. Tonight I’ll kill her
and dump her somewhere; it’ll be easy in the confusion.

Allah
made me his instrument for cleansing Las
Vegas and humblin
g
the Far
Enemy.
Now he’s chosen me to serve in another
way. I’m a skilled maker of bombs, not nuclear ones but all sizes and types of
explosive bombs. With the
knowledge in my head, the skill of my
hands, and materials easy to buy or steal, I am a weapon! Not a suicide bomber
but the creator of suicide bombers.

Many
of them!

Chapter 41

The president sauntered toward the Sit
Room after his triumphant statement. He was in no hurry, enjoying his thoughts
in this snippet of time between meetings and public appearances.

It’s
all in how you choose to look at things. Yes, it’s shocking and infuriating
that Kim would try another bombing. Kim? Well, not yet proven, but who else?
Anyway, you could either be furious and frightened that Kim was still trying,
or else be calmed and steeled by today’s success. I know there’ll be plenty of
people who’ll be furious and frightened, but I’m not going to give in to them
or their way of thinking—we won big today!

Rick began whistling, then stopped
because he didn’t want to appear overconfident. Hands in pockets, he nodded to
the Marine holding the door, passed through, and glided athletically into his
seat. Chairs scraped, people rose. He waved them down and looked at Dorn.

“Mr. President,
you were magnificent in there!”

Martin offered his lopsided grin.
“Thanks, but I don’t mind telling you I know those defenses won’t succeed
indefinitely. Time is
not
on our
side. We’ve got to move quickly, not only because we need to put an end to this
danger, but because the momentum of this great success gives us leverage.

“What have you got for me so far?”

“Mr. President.” Sara Zimmer’s voice
interrupted over a bad connection. “The engineers believe they’ve safed the
bomb! I’d like your permission to send them to Pantex.”

“What’s the
risk, Sara?”

“They’ll be routed direct to Amarillo at forty
thousand. If the bomb should detonate at that altitude, ground effects would be
minimal.”

“What’s
minimal?”

“Well, there would be little fallout and
that bit would stay airborne. If someone below should be looking right at the
aircraft when it explodes, there might be some vision damage. Electromagnetic
pulse effect—EMP—would scramble some computers for a while. Radiation is a
non-issue; the ground is way too far below for gamma or neutrons to be a
problem, much less alpha.”

Martin pursed
his lips then said, “What if it blows at Pantex?”

“If that happens, we’re in a whole new
ballgame, but the engineers wouldn’t be recommending delivery there if they
believed it could. These guys
live
near Pantex, with their families.”

Fist striking palm with a smack, Rick
said, “That sure
would
be a new ball
game! That would turn the tables on us; it would be like they had successfully
targeted our key nuclear facility. No to that plan!”

He looked
around. “Any ideas?”

Easterly and
McAdoo had their heads together. Then Zimmer’s voice: “Well, the bomb’s aboard
a C-130 with aerial refueling. We can send it anywhere you want, Mr.
President.”

Easterly said, “Kwajalein.”

“Surrrre,”
replied Zimmer. Martin looked puzzled at the understanding in her tone.

“Kwajalein Atoll, sir, in the Marshall Islands,”
said Easterly. “It’s the most isolated military base we have with enough
infrastructure for scientists to examine the bomb. It’s perfect!”

“OK, send it there! And have the FAA keep
other planes far enough away that they won’t get zapped if it blows, despite
the confidence of those engineers. Keep the bomb under two-person control and
continuous video monitoring. I’m going to invite the IAEA to send a rep to
participate in the analysis. No further digging into it until IAEA gets there.

“Got that, Sara?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Anne, get with
the IAEA to arrange it.”

“Yes sir . . . Mr. President, I think you
should invite a Chinese scientist to participate.”

“Why?”

“I don’t have a reason. It’s just a hunch
that having them in this from the beginning could turn out to be important.”

“Yeah, like if the bomb turns out to be
one of the Chinese designs that Khan was peddling,” said DNI Hendricks.

“Good!” said
Martin. “Let’s do that.”

“Mr. President, I think it would be a
good thing if you called Ming and made the offer directly,” said the vice
president. “It may get you inside his head a little and also let him know that
we
are aware of the design possibility
and don’t intend to call them on it. We can be pretty confident that if the
warhead design
is
theirs, they didn’t
give it to Kim, knowing him as they do.”

“OK, Bruce. I’ll
do that.”

Martin’s phone bleeped. “Sir, this is the
Sit Room watch officer. Television is showing huge numbers of people leaving
East Coast cities. We’ve seen reports from New York,
Boston, Philadelphia,
here in DC, plus Baltimore of course.”

Instantly, Martin’s stomach flamed.
Shit! It didn’t take long for the fear
mongers to regroup. Should I go back to the press room? No, I don’t want to
overdo that. How about if Ella and the kids and I visit big cities around the
country, spend a day in each, show there’s no imminent danger?

He led a brief discussion of this new
development and his idea, then called Sam and told her to make an announcement.
He looked at Guarini. “Bart, get the show on the road for this! The Secret
Service will hate it, but they’ll just have to suck it up.”

After calling Ella, Martin returned his
attention to the NSC. “OK, John, you have me again. What should we do to
leverage this success and move our agenda forward?”

Dorn was once again astounded, and
angered, by Martin’s relentless optimism. It was hard for him to work for
someone who saw opportunity in every development, when he himself more often
saw problems.

“Sir, we’re all just starting to get our
arms around this thing. We don’t even know yet where the bomb came from, much
less who was trying to smuggle it in or what they intended. We’re going to need
some time.”

Wrong
answer!
thought Guarini.
John still doesn’t understand that you
have to work with Rick as he is: a confident opportunist who wants to run when
he’s feeling good. To bond with Rick, you always have to have something to give
him when he wants to go full throttle.

And
I do: Plan B.

“Mr. President,” said Guarini, “I agree
with John that there’s a lot we don’t know right now. But I think we can make
some assumptions without being irresponsible. For the present, let’s assume the
bomb is Kim’s. Let’s take the same approach: unless there’s a case made
otherwise, North Korea
is once again the perp, acting alone. So the question is, how are we going to
respond to Kim’s second attack?”

Battista saw Martin nod attentively.
Bart’s wrong, but, damn, he’s good with
Rick,
she thought.
Eric and Mac look
prepared—Bart must have put them to work on Plan B already. He kept me out of
the loop. Well, if he figures he can roll me, he’s going to be surprised! She
cut her eyes to Bruce Griffith’s image on the monitor. Is he also out of the
loop? Can’t tell.

“Bart!” He glared at her. “Let’s not
forget that we have the option to call this bomb an attack, or something else;
emphasize increased threat or improved defense. So, we are
not
considering our response to Kim’s second attack
unless
we decide to handle it that way.
Obviously, if we’ve been attacked again, we must respond strongly. But it’s not
a given that this was an attack; we may have caught them before they could set
up the attack.”

“Good point,
Anne,” said the president.

Guarini
grimaced, then smiled. “Point taken, Anne. But I think the president has
already characterized this as an attack, in the press room fifteen minutes ago.
We could, I suppose, walk that back. But for now, let’s consider that we just
defeated a second attack.”

Guarini’s glance at the president drew a
nod.

Dammit!
thought Battista,
they’re not taking me seriously!
Her face flushed as she felt her
betrayal.

Guarini said, “We have these options, it
seems to me, to force Kim from control of the DPRK: we can continue our present
line of activity, diplomacy and quarantine, or an augmented version of it—or we
can start really using military force.

“Since we just found a nuclear bomb in Baltimore, I submit that
our current activities aren’t handling the threat we face.”

“They may actually have increased the
threat,” said the vice president. “By not striking the DPRK we may have led Kim
to believe we’re unwilling to do that, so he feels free to take nuclear
potshots at us.”

“Perhaps,” replied Guarini, shocked at Griffith’s open criticism
of the president’s chosen course.

“I know the risks of diplomacy!” said
Martin, slapping his palm on the table. “Proceed, Bart; tell me something I
don’t
already know!”

“Well, sir, I doubt if any of this will
be new to you, but I’d like Eric and Mac to review some military options.”
 

Easterly said,
“Mac, why don’t you walk us through this?”

Nodding, General MacAdoo took a sip of
water and began to speak.

“Mr. President, we’re contending with a
nuclear power ruled absolutely by someone who is, as you have experienced,
given to fits of rage. Our use of
any
military force might cause Kim to go nuclear. The DPRK appears to have the
capability, using
Taepodong-two
or
Nodong nuclear missiles, to hit South Korea,
Japan, Okinawa, and perhaps Guam, Hawaii, or Alaska. We don’t know
this for a fact, but we do know that three of Kim’s nuclear weapons have been
detonated successfully and the DPRK has tested the
Taepodong
to ranges well beyond Korea and Japan. Plus, DPRK aircraft could
nuke South Korea or Japan. We also
know that the north has tons of chemical weapons stocks. We must assume they
have the capacity for large-scale chemical attacks on anyone within aircraft or
missile range. This is the backdrop to anything we may consider.”

Looking at Hendricks, the president said,
“Aaron, how many nukes does Kim have now?”

“We certainly
don’t know, sir, but we think somewhere between three and ten.”

“Mac, haven’t we
got some defensive weapons against Kim’s missiles?”

“Yes, sir. Our navy and the Japanese and
ROK navies have cruisers with Aegis missiles that can probably knock down
Nodongs. We’re less confident about
Taepodongs.
And our Patriot missiles, which both the
Japanese and the South Koreans have too, have some chance of getting them. We
also have one aircraft with a laser able to destroy a missile early in flight,
but the weather must be clear for it to work.”

“I’m not hearing
a lot of confidence, General!” said the president.

“No sir, you’re not. Although Bush Two
withdrew from the ABM treaty that banned our testing, following administrations
decided to observe it, so we haven’t tested against live targets in years. The
Nodong is based on the SCUD, and we downed some SCUDS during the Iraq campaigns.
The ABL—that’s the airborne laser—has a lower probability of success than Aegis
or Patriot. It’s had one successful shot, but in comparison to the others, we
haven’t tested it much.”

“Aaron, how many
Nodongs and
Taepodongs
?”

“We don’t know exactly. Except those
they’ve tested over the past ten years, the missiles have been hidden from our
satellites. We get an occasional sniff from communication intercepts, but since
the DPRK has almost no cell phones and few telephones, there’s not much. We
estimate they have a couple of hundred Nodongs operational. As for Taepodongs,
it’s more likely a couple of dozen than a couple of hundred.”

“Aaron, I have
to say, your intel on the DPRK is awful!”

“Yes, sir, it
is. The DPRK is the toughest intelligence target on the planet.”

“How about
Gwon’s people . . . do
they
have
anything better?”

“Probably, sir, but Gwon’s mad as hell at
the United States; plus
cooperation began drying up early in the Rogers
administration after she outed those detention centers they were operating for
us.”

Cords stood out in the president’s neck
as he said, “What I’m hearing so far boils down to saying
we have no military option!”