“Holy shit,” one of his officers muttered from the table in front of him.
Another said, “Those assholes never saw it coming. I hope they all fucking died in that.”
Smoke quickly obscured the satellite’s view as tons of dirt, ash, and debris was thrown into the air. There was no way anything could have survived such an onslaught, and there were more missiles speeding their way from the United States to wreak further destruction.
“Our satellites won’t be able to penetrate that debris cloud for thirty or forty minutes, maybe even a couple of hours, sir,” Colonel McTaggert said, his face reappearing on screen as the VTC operator switched between views. “I recommend we switch satellites to watch the North Korean attack.”
Neel nodded once more. “Yeah. Good idea. Switch views to the Penn,” he directed, using the military’s shortened nickname for the Korean Peninsula.
“Roger. Switching satellites now. This will only take a second.”
32
TAEDONG, DEMOCRATIC PEOPLE’S REPUBLIC OF KOREA
MARCH 11TH
“I am already sick of this cold climate,” Kasra Amol groaned, allowing her head to roll back against her chair’s headrest. “Everything is cold.” She gestured at the table, and then the air around her. “Why is your pathetic country always so cold?”
Administrator Kim smiled weakly. “I am very sorry for our accommodations, Ms. Amol. Winter is—”
“It’s not just winter, you idiot. This place is always cold. Why am I here again?”
“Because the Ayatollah demands an update on the vaccine’s progress,” Facilitator Sari answered from across the table. “Do not worry, Kasra, I have taken the liberty of ordering our Korean hosts to send a bevy of slaves to your bedchambers—male and female, as you usually demand. Once we have heard what our little friends have to say, you can relieve the stresses of such a long flight.”
Kasra let her eyes linger on the Facilitator. He’d grown bolder over the last few months. It was simultaneously a turn on and sickening to her. On the one hand, she enjoyed using strong men. On the other, she really enjoyed destroying those same strong men. She’d allowed Hamid Sari far too many freedoms. He needed to be brought down a few pegs.
“I will do as I wish, Facilitator,” she hissed. “I was simply remarking how cold this place is.” She turned to the diminutive Korean and said, “Turn up the heat. I need more warmth.”
“I—I can’t, Ms. Amol,” Kim replied. “All heating in government facilities is controlled by the People’s Bureau of Energy. There is no…” His eyes searched upward as if he were scanning a book inside his brain for the correct word. “Um. I cannot remember the word. There is no control for the temperature inside this building.”
“Thermostat,” Kasra spat. “The word you are looking for is ‘thermostat’. Curse this country. Seon!”
“Yes, madam?” her bodyguard replied, moving forward instantly from his position along the wall.
“Bring me a blanket from my luggage.”
“Yes, madam.”
“And slap one of the slaves when you arrive in my chambers. Hard. I want them to be cowering in fear when I arrive.”
“Yes, madam.”
As Seon left the room, Hyuk, her second bodyguard, moved closer to her. She often wondered why the men did this, but didn’t care enough to ask. They were a constant part of her life, with her twenty-four hours a day. One of them always near her, regardless of what she was doing. Most of the time, she forgot they were even there.
Kasra shivered. She hated showing any type of weakness in front of these men, if they could even be called such. “Very well,” she said. “Tell me of your scientists’ efforts to create a vaccine. How have they faired when a joint Iranian and Korean team was not capable of success at Site 53?”
The Korean nodded diligently. “The team at Site 53 was not properly motivated to—”
“Not properly motivated?” Kasra exploded. “You were the administrator for Site 53. It is your job to motivate them.”
“With all due respect, Ms. Amol,” Kim replied, holding up his hands placatingly. “I was only at Site 53 for five weeks total over an entire year. The rest of the time, I was sent back and forth between Pyongyang and Tehran where I established additional laboratories.”
“It is still ultimately your failure,” she stated, daring him to contradict her once again.
Kasra felt a presence behind her, causing her to turn in the swivel chair. Seon had returned with a blanket. He held it out for her. “Did you do as I ordered?” she asked, accepting the blanket and folding it around her legs.
“Yes, madam.”
“Tell me,” she purred.
“Kasra,” Hamid said sharply. “We don’t have time for your base debauchery. Frankly, I’m tired of it and it is unbecoming of a devout Muslim woman.” Kasra’s eyes narrowed and she made a slight gesture with her hand. “I have no choice but to—”
Hyuk backhanded the Facilitator, sending him flying from the chair. The giant lumbered toward him and Hamid cowered in the man’s shadow.
Kasra clucked her tongue and said, “Do not forget whom the Ayatollah has given ultimate responsibility for this project, Hamid. I am the chosen one of Allah. I will lead his people to the Promised Land.”
“You’re nothing more than a common street slut. You’re a gutter whore,” Hamid replied, wiping at his face.
Kasra smiled wickedly. “I am as Allah has made me.”
Once again, her eyes flickered to the big bodyguard. He ducked his chin subtlety and brought his foot crashing down on Hamid Sari. The Facilitator raised his hands at the last moment. The kick impacted against his forearms, smashing them into his face. He screeched in agony as Hyuk kicked him rapidly in the ribs, making him cover his stomach. What followed for several seconds was a comedic game of Hamid alternating to
