relations with the DPRK at all.
“We’ll have to go through China,” she said. “Get the message to Beijing and have them relay our intentions to Pyongyang.”
Scheib gave her a disgusted look. “And by the time that’s done ABL-1 will be sinking to the bottom of the Sea of Japan.”
“Maybe not,” Michael Jamil said.
Scheib glared down the table at him, but asked, “What do you mean?”
Jamil licked his lips before answering. “Whoever’s orchestrating this has some pretty good intelligence sources. Maybe they know about ABL-1.”
General Higgins plopped into the chair next to Scheib. “You’ve given the plane a lot of publicity, Brad. I bet there’s some gook intel officer who reads
“Or an intelligence officer in Beijing,” Jamil said.
Higgins gave him a sour look. “You still think the chinks are behind all this? Dr. Fu Manchu, maybe?”
Jamil’s brows knit. “Who’s Dr. Fu Manchu?”
The general rolled his eyes toward the ceiling.
But Coggins headed down the table toward the young analyst. “Do you really believe this situation is being orchestrated by Beijing?”
“Yes, I certainly do.” Jamil started ticking off points on his fingers. “The North Korean nuclear program hasn’t produced anything more than a test device. They don’t have nuclear warheads; they had to get them from somewhere else.”
“China?” Coggins asked, taking the chair next to Jamil’s.
“Or Russia. Second point, Pyongyang’s government is in turmoil, but it would be suicide for a group of their army officers to steal those missiles and launch them at the United States.”
“They’re fanatics,” General Higgins snapped. “Orientals. They don’t have the same values that we do.”
“But they’re not fools. They must believe that they have the backing of someone powerful enough to protect them from their own government.”
“China,” Coggins said again.
Nodding, Jamil went on. “China launched surveillance satellites two days ago. I’m betting that they’re hardened against the North Korean nuke and they’re in orbit to watch the President’s arrival in San Francisco.”
Scheib growled, “Not that again! They can’t hit San Francisco. We know that for a fact.”
Jamil ignored him. “They knocked out our own satellites so we couldn’t see their government leaders heading for their underground shelters.”
“Our milsats are still working,” Higgins objected. “We haven’t seen any such movement.”
“Have you looked?” Jamil challenged. “Have you ordered the NRO analysts to specifically look for a flow of high-up government vehicles out of Beijing?” Higgins fell silent.
“The Chinese have wanted Taiwan since 1949,” Jamil said. “It’s a matter of national pride to them. A matter of face.”
“And they’re willing to risk nuclear war over it?” Coggins demanded.
With a shake of his head, Jamil retorted, “That’s not the question. The question is, are
“Aw, that’s just nonsense,” Higgins insisted.
But Coggins murmured, “I’m not so sure.”
“Look,” Jamil said, almost pleading for understanding, “The Chinese economy is in the toilet—”
“Whose isn’t?” Higgins muttered.
“There’s a lot of unrest in China. People got accustomed to a rising economy, rising expectations. Now they’re sinking. Getting Taiwan would be a great boost to the government in Beijing.”
“And you think Beijing is willing to let a few hundred million of their people die in a nuclear exchange ?”
“You still don’t get it, General. Are
General Scheib spoke up. “But Taiwan’s got nothing to do with this! It’s North Korea that’s threatening us.”
“I know, I understand that. But look at the big picture. North Korea attacks us. We have the option of retaliation or negotiation. If we retaliate, if we hit North Korea, China will come in on their side. They’d have to. They can’t sit and do nothing while we attack their next-door neighbor. Remember how they came into the Korean War when it looked like we were going to conquer the north.”
Coggins nodded slowly, reluctantly agreeing with his logic.
Jamil continued. “If we let the North Koreans get away with attacking us, killing the President—or maybe just blowing out Honolulu or Fairbanks— then our influence in Asia goes down to zero. So we have the choice of nuclear war with China or allowing China to remake the map of Asia.”
Higgins shook his head ponderously. “I just don’t believe it.”
Coggins said, “They’d reunify Korea, with North Korea in command. China would take over Taiwan. They’d force Japan to get rid of our bases there . . .”
“Chinese hegemony in the Far East,” Jamil said. “And we’re humiliated worldwide.”
The conference room fell absolutely silent. Jamil could hear the faint buzz of the air circulation fans in the ceiling.
General Scheib broke the spell. “Okay. So what do we do if they shoot down ABL-1?”
Harry ran his hand along the smooth, cool metal tubing that ran the length of the COIL bay. The mixture of iodine and oxygen gases would flow down the main tube at supersonic speed when the laser was activated, producing more than a million watts of infrared energy once it raced through the lasing cavity. More than a megawatt, Harry thought. Sounds like a lot, but it’s about the explosive equivalent of a lousy hand grenade.
Still, slap a hand grenade against the side of a boosting rocket and you blow it apart. That’s what we’ve got to do, Harry told himself.
Wally Rosenberg sidled up to him with his usual crafty grin.
Ignoring Wally’s sarcasm, Harry said, “A pinpoint leak anywhere along the tubing could louse up the COIL. Maybe blow up the plane and us in it.”
“We ran a nitrogen purge through the system not more’n twenty minutes ago. No leaks.”
Angel Reyes came up, looking intent, totally focused on his job. “Don’t worry, Harry. Everything back here is okay.”
Harry nodded absently. “We’ve got to make this baby work right. The first time. We won’t have the chance to tinker with her and try again.”
Reyes straightened up to his full height, barely taller than Harry’s chin. “It will work,” he said. His voice was soft, but the intensity in his eyes was iron-hard.
Harry looked at the two of them: Reyes standing as if he were facing a firing squad; Rosenberg in his usual slouch, his sly grin fading into something less certain.
“I’ve got to ask you both,” Harry said slowly, “and I swear to you this’ll go no further than the three of us: Did one of you pull the lenses out of the ranger?”
Reyes looked surprised, then hurt. Rosenberg gave Harry a disgruntled huff.
“I haven’t gone farther forward than the fuckin’ galley since we took off, Harry,” said Rosenberg.
Then he amended, “No, wait, I took a piss in the forward toilet.”
“I used the toilet back aft here,” Reyes said, clearly insulted at Harry’s suggestion.
“I’m sorry, guys,” Harry said. “I had to ask. One of us tried to screw up the mission and—”
“It wasn’t me,” Rosenberg snapped. For once he looked serious.
