Shock of War

Within a half hour of stopping the truck, Zeus and the others were en route to Hanoi.

26

Beijing

As was his habit, Cho Lai missed the opening curtain at the Huguang Guild Hall in Beijing, settling into his seat a few minutes after the opera had begun. There was a rustling in the audience; the performer on stage turned to the premier’s box and bowed. Cho Lai rose, accepting the applause of the audience, then gestured for the show to continue.

The applause seemed genuine, at least. The people still appreciated his leadership.

He settled back to watch. The opera was a new interpretation of the Qing Ding Pearl, a classic that dated to the Song Dynasty. This was China at its best — the old traditions preserved, yet updated tastefully. It was proof, Cho Lai thought, that the country was moving forward beyond the chains of foreign interference and into the future.

The villains of the play were corrupt officials. As the reviews had noted, one could interpret them as the men Cho Lai had ousted to gain his position.

The premier was just starting to appreciate the lead actor’s strong voice when an aide tapped at his shoulder. Cho Lai sighed, then rose.

He was surprised to see Lo Gong himself in the small antechamber behind the seats.

“The offensive in the east has stalled,” said the defense minister. “Hai Phong cannot be reached.”

Cho Lai had known this would happen and had prepared himself. He closed his eyes and nodded.

“We are ready to resume the attack in the west,” said Lo Gong quickly. “Your nephew will be placed in charge, as you wish. He has been promoted.”

“General Sun will do a good job,” said Cho Lai calmly.

Lo Gong glanced at the door.

“What is it?” said Cho Lai.

“The intelligence services have been speaking with a source in North Korea,” said the defense minister. “We believe the Vietnamese have obtained a serious weapon. More dangerous than we believed.”

“How dangerous?” said the premier.

“It should not be discussed here,” said Lo Gong.

Cho Lai was about to order him to talk, but Lo Gong’s plaintive expression made it clear he shouldn’t.

“Meet me in the war room,” Cho Lai told him. “I will be there within the hour.”

27

CIA headquarters, Virginia

“Five minutes,” Mara told Lucas. “That’s all I need.”

“Five minutes,” said Lucas. “And no haranguing me about getting back in the field. I’m busy as hell this morning.”

“Peter, this is important.”

“All right,” he said reluctantly. “But five minutes is all I got.”

Mara closed the door behind her.

“You have a map of Vietnam?”

“Not detailed.”

“Doesn’t have to be.”

Lucas dug through his papers. He had to be one of the most unorganized station chiefs — make that area chiefs — she knew. Without someone like Gina DiMarco — a cryptography clerk who doubled as his administrative assistant and general gal Friday — he was lost.

“Your BlackBerry,” she said, finding it under the pile. “Aren’t you supposed to leave that downstairs?”

“Mine’s cleared,” Lucas told her.

Damn! She’d forgotten to check her messages. Josh must have called by now.

Had he?

“Will this do?” Lucas asked, pulling out one of the military sit maps.

“As long as it has the Yen Tu Mountains,” said Mara.

“The no-fly zone? Is that what this is about?”

“Partly. You know what’s going on there?”

“The pagoda and the mines.”

“No.”

“No?”

Mara sat down. “North Korea,” she said.

“What North Korea?”

“Two years ago, the Vietnamese bought twenty old MiGs from North Korea.”

“And?”

“Why would the Vietnamese buy old MiGs?”

“Mara, I really only have a few minutes.”

“There’s a series of sat photos in my share queue,” she said. “Can you access them?”

Peter swung his chair around and faced his computer. It took him a while, but eventually he navigated to a secure folder set up so Mara could share items with selected people. She had already set it to allow Peter to open the photos.

“They’re working the mines,” he said.

“Go all the way through.”

Lucas went through the sequence slowly. They showed an old-fashioned mining area, one where miners took a small train down under the ground, being widened into a strip mine. Then the work stopped for two months. At the end of the sequence, the mine entrance had been closed.

“I’m missing this,” said Lucas.

“They closed the mine up at night,” said Mara. “In one night. I checked the sequences.”

“Help me out here.”

“They were working on it all along at night, after the satellite passed. They’re hiding something big there. I don’t think the Koreans sold them old MiGs. I think they sold them missiles.”

“Missiles?”

“And more. Nuclear waste from their reactors.”

“Well, we know that — ”

“Doc File 2,” said Mara impatiently. “Look at that. It’s a design for a sub-nuclear bomb. A kind of dirty neutron weapon. I think they have a bunch of them. And I think they’re getting ready to use them. Go back to that last image; the mine has been reopened.”

28

The White House

President Greene had just picked up the phone to call over to the kitchen for a morning snack when his chief of staff knocked on the door to the Oval Office.

“We need to talk to you,” said Dickson Theodore, poking his head in.

“Who we?” said Greene, trying to make a joke of it.