8.
THE AMERICANS
News of the execution soon reached London – and Washington.
The Americans were less than amused at the increased level of vitriol directed towards them because one of ‘their’ spies had been caught red handed. They knew the man wasn’t one of theirs, and immediately guessed that he was from the UK, who, like them, had been taking a close interest in the North Korean nuclear programme. Also like them, the UK has been particularly interested in the work of Dr. Choi Shin, who had not been interested in defecting to either country.
In London, however, they had more urgent matters to attend to.
A ‘Flash’ message was sent to Kang Soo to evacuate as fast as possible.
Having watched the North Korean television, he already had, although not as fast as London might have wished. He had decided that it was best not to draw undue attention to himself, so he was gently pedalling his way towards the Chinese border on his old bicycle.
***
James Piper needed to see Lee Cooper immediately. At the moment in London, everyone needed to see everyone else – immediately.
For a change, Cooper knocked on the door marked ‘James Piper, Head of S.7’, but went in without being asked just the same.
“I’ve had the Americans on,” Piper announced.
“Again? About Choi Shin?”
“Right. You’ve heard about the American spy being shot in North Korea?”
“The chap from the SAS you mean?”
“Right again. The Americans know he wasn’t one of theirs, and think he must have been one of ours.”
“How do they work that out?”
“They’re guessing and pointing the finger.”
“The North was bound to suspect the yanks. Everything that goes wrong in the world is the American’s fault,” said Cooper.
“They’re bastards, aren’t they, in the North. Uncivilised, doing a thing like that, even if they did think he was an American spy.”
“Never mind him for a minute. Sad though it is, he’s dead. What about the other bloke they sent?”
“Pedalling his way slowly to China,” replied Piper.
“Pedalling?”
“On his bike, trying not to attract too much attention. He’s Korean anyway, even if he is from the South, so he might just get away with it.”
“I’ll never understand what possessed the Army to send those chaps. Or why they were allowed to, either. It had failure written all over it before they started.”
“Somebody on high must have thought it was worth a try. And the military are desperate to get their hands on what they’re doing over there in relation to their nuclear weapons programme.”
“But it’s not what the Army is good at, getting information like that. Not even the SAS. It’s our job to do that sort of thing.”
“I’ve been on to Colonel Owen at Hereford. Apparently the man doesn’t have any next of kin in this country – not that they know of, anyway. And they reckon that with a fair wind the other chap will make it home.”
“Are we helping?”
“Of course. I told Owen we’ve been in touch already with our contacts over there, on his behalf. The plan is for one of our people to intercept him on his way to the border if they can find him, provide him with papers, and get him across into China by bribing a couple of their favourite border guards,” explained Piper.
“Then what?”
“Then he gets to Shanghai by train. Our Defence man at the Consulate there will meet him there, dress him up like he belongs here instead of there, give him a passport and all the papers he needs, and put him on a plane for the UK.”
“And a hero’s welcome in London, I suppose.”
“Birmingham, actually. And a damned good de-briefing session once he gets to Hereford!”
“I hope we’ll be at the de-brief. Sounds as if our contacts, as you call them, have done this sort of thing before.”
“Plenty of times. That’s what people smugglers do.”
“I hope the Army realises the fuss they’ve caused,” said Cooper”
“At least they were both able to make contact with Choi, which was what they were sent out there to do.”
“But Choi didn’t respond,” Cooper pointed out. “He always told me he trusted nobody over there, so it’s not surprising if he chose to ignore two perfect strangers.”
“Even if they did have your photograph with them.”
“If there are any of those prints left floating about over there, Choi is in very real trouble. I hope he realises the danger he’s in, thanks to the Army.”
Piper shrugged.
“You too, probably.”
“And what about the Top Secret SC19s we provided them with so they could keep in touch? Where the hell are they?”
“The guy on the bike still has his, which is how we know what’s going on. The other one should be buried in a paddy field somewhere. Those were the orders. Dig it up when you need it, and don’t keep it in your hip pocket.”
“Bloody amateurs!” grumbled Cooper.
“Owen has already admitted that it was a long shot, and that it should really have been left to us.”
“Our turn next then, I guess,” said Cooper.
“That’s why I wanted to see you.”
M16’s Head of Section 7 sat back, looking tired.
“I need you to help me think,” he said to Cooper. “You know Choi – got on quite well apparently, while he was here. What’s he going to think now? What’s he going to do?”
“God knows.”
“Ask him then, will you, and if he won’t tell you, then we need to guess. Quickly. I have been summoned to meet ‘C’ any time at all, and he’s already talking about Plan ‘B’.”
“That is us, then.”
***
Charles J. Haines Jr was in bed and asleep. He never liked being woken up by the phone, which was one reason why it was on his wife’s side of the bed instead of his. Sure, it woke him when it rang OK, but his wife was usually at her smartest when that happened and could usually get rid of the caller until a more sociable hour.
Not the President, though.
Charles J. Haines Jr. Director of the CIA, got the sharp elbow.
“It’s for you,” said his wife.
“Who the hell?”
“Only the President,” she replied, passing over the phone. “He’s just watched the TV news after dinner in Hawaii and a good day’s golf, and wants to know what the hell’s going on.”
“Going on?”
“In North Korea. Apparently, something is going on in North Korea,” she added helpfully. “Something to do with one of our spies being executed.”
“What?!”
“That means one of yours, I guess honey.”
“Gimme the phone,” he said, struggling to sit up.
There was a short but animated conversation between the two men, one of whom had just had an excellent dinner, while the other still had a few hours to go before breakfast - or did have.
Immediately the call ended, the phone rang again. This time, the Director took it himself.
It was the duty officer at the CIA Headquarters in Langley, Virginia.
“Sorry to disturb you, boss, but the North Koreans are jumping up and down again.”
“I know! So is the President. He just called me from Hawaii to ask what the hell’s going on!”
“No wonder I couldn’t get through,” said the man at Langley.
“So what the hell’s going on?!”
The man told him.
“Are we absolutely sure it’s not one of ours?”
“No doubt whatsoever.”
“Then whose?”
“Our guess is that the man could have been from Japan or South Korea. We’re checking.”
“Let me know,” demanded Haines.
“On the other hand, he could just have been from the UK.”
“What makes you think that?
“Like us, they’ve been taking an interest in that nuclear scientist, what’s his name - hang on – ah, yes! Dr Choi Shin. He was over here if you remember, and we tried to turn him.”
“And failed,” said the Director.
“Quite. But he’s been to the UK since, and they seem to have got on with him rather better than we did. Our guys on the case think they may have chased after him.”
“Well, find out! Get on to that guy Piper at MI6. Not that he’ll tell you much over the phone, but it’s worth a try. I’ll get dressed and get to the office.”
“OK chief.”
“And make sure you have something I can tell the President when I call him back.”
Haines looked at his watch.
“With any luck, I can get him out of bed this time.”
***
Jack Salisbury, Head of the Joint Intelligence Organisation, needed to see the Head of MI6 – immediately.
For his part, ‘C’ had been seeing people of his own ‘immediately’, but managed to tear himself away from his own briefings for a meeting with Salisbury. Sir Geoffrey Sefton told his secretary where he would be, and left instructions that he was to be interrupted if it seemed urgent.
Anything to do with North Korea was urgent, from now on.
Salisbury was standing at his office window, looking out, when Sefton arrived.
“I thought we should swap notes,” he said, without looking round.
“Agreed.”
“I know it’s early,” he said, eventually turning, “but it’s been one hell of a night, for one reason or another.”
He opened the bottom drawer of his oak desk.
“I expect you could do with one of these.”
He poured two glasses of Jack Daniels.
“I don’t often drink this American stuff, although it’s quite pleasant.”
He sniffed at it.
“It seems appropriate today though. We’re giving Uncle Sam a bad time!”
“Have they been on?”
“They’ve rung everyone they can think of, and not just the CIA blokes at the Embassy, either. Langley has been on twice already demanding answers.”
“What have you told them?”
“To take better care of their spies, and if it really wasn’t one of theirs, to try asking someone else, like the Japanese – old foes of the Koreans – or even Moscow. Why pick on us, I asked.”
He grinned, and raised his glass.
“All that lot out there,” he thumbed towards the window, “should be drinking our health, and thanking their lucky stars we don’t have a regime here like the one they run from Pyongyang.”
“Half of them wouldn’t even know where that is,” said Sefton.
Salisbury sat down, wearily.
“There are serious things to discuss,” he said. “I’ve been on to Col. Owen in Hereford and General Pearson-Jones and the Defence Ministry; just to say sorry, really. But I’ve left them in no doubt that the last thing we want is any fuss. The Americans must continue to be in doubt as to the nationality of the ‘spy’ for as long as possible. They can point the finger at us if they like, but we must not ever admit that he was one of ours.”
“My people think the whole military thing was a disaster waiting to happen,” said ‘C’, “and that it should have been left to us to sort out.”
“Now we shall have to,” replied Salisbury.
“Sort it out?”
“Exactly. And when I say ‘we’,” Salisbury paused, and scratched his balding head, looking at Sefton. “When I say ‘we’, I mean you and your people, Geoffrey.”
“Plan ‘B’, you called it sometime ago.”
“I knew we’d need one,” he admitted, “So it’s a good job we started thinking about it when we did. Not that I think the military altogether failed. In fact, in many ways, their operation was a total success.”
“How do you work that out?”
“I have tried to reassure Owen and the General that we regard it as a ‘mission accomplished’. Their remit was to make contact with Dr. Choi Shin. Both their chaps did that. End of story. The fact that Choi – um, how shall we say – failed to react, is not their fault.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
“Neither is it their fault that one of their men was – ‘murdered’, I suppose is the word we’d use. They seem quite confident, by the way, that, given time, the other man will make his way home safely. He is from Korea, after all, even if from the south, and he speaks the language, looks at home – all that. Seemingly, he has got home before from worse places. And we’re helping of course.”
“I hope they’re right – we need some good news at present.”
“I’ve done enough talking,” said Salisbury. “How do you see things, Geoffrey, from where you sit.”
“Not terribly clearly, at the moment, I must admit. The real nuisance – problem, even, is that this affair has raised the political temperature. Ministers and civil servants are starting to ask questions about an operation which you, Jack, insisted should be kept away from them.”
“I agree. Damned nuisance, politicians, but we must continue to play a straight bat until we know whether or not we can use Choi in any way. ‘Nothing to do with us’ must be the line to take, publicly and privately, if only to keep the Americans quiet.”
“My sources say that the Americans think that we were chasing after Choi.”
“A logical assumption, even for the CIA.”
“And accurate.”
“North Korea has really started to kick up dust in the face of the Americans, and they don’t like it. There are no end of dire threats being made, as you know, including war on the South. It wasn’t all that long ago that Kim Jong-un demanded an all-out anti-US struggle. He has never recovered from the UN resolution that demanded his regime be referred to the International Criminal Court for crimes against humanity. He even threatened a nuclear strike against the south if conflict broke out.”
“I remember that. Are you thinking of briefing anyone yet – people who don’t know, I mean.”
“Not yet. Those who don’t know don’t need to know for the time being.”
Sefton nodded his agreement.
“But tell me,” asked Salisbury, “how is plan ‘B’ is going? Are we on track?”
“So far as we can tell,” replied Sefton. “The big unknown is just what Choi is thinking or will do next. If we knew that, things would be simpler.”
“There’s no way of finding out now, either. Not until the new plan gets going, anyway, and perhaps not even then. But there’s only one way Choi can make contact with again now, and we have that covered.
“My guess would be that he could well have decided to co-operate. He was within an ace of doing so while he was over here, as you know.”
“Our two brave colleagues could well have put him off, of course.”
“On the other hand, we said we’d get in touch, and that’s what we did. He may well realise now, after recent events, that the two strangers were sent by us, and were not some sort of trap set by his own regime.”
“He always said he would never trust anyone, so why should he have trusted our guys, who he’d never seen in his life before? Where is your man Northcot, by the way? Is he home yet?”
“Any day now. The new plan is launched in two days, and we should know one way or the other in a couple of weeks.”
Jack Salisbury drained his glass.
“Let’s hope the Americans don’t get in the way. You know what they’re like.”
“I’ll keep in touch.”
***
The Americans were having a bad time. They were vehemently denying that the shot ‘spy’ was anything to do with them, but they had no evidence to suggest where he might have come from, or even if he was a spy at all.
The North Koreans were quite adept at inventing things like this when they wanted to turn the heat up a bit. The man they shot could have been anyone, off the streets so to speak.
But if he was a previous defector, then the finger was almost bound to point to the west. Defectors either made their way to South Korea or to America – in the eyes of Pyongyang, much the same thing - while any who were caught trying to cross China were normally sent back.
But the threats and general belligerent behaviour coming from Pyongyang couldn’t simply be ignored, and at the moment, American denials of any involvement were having little impact. They were trying to table a resolution at the United Nations, condemning North Korea’s actions, but it was being blocked by the Chinese and the Russians, both enjoying America’s embarrassment.
The CIA was under orders to unearth the facts in double-quick time. Their people on the ground were proving of little help, having been caught totally unawares by the sudden public execution. They were all studying the TV footage for clues, but that was getting them nowhere. Furthermore, all their contacts in the area, who might normally have been prepared to give odd scraps if information in exchange for a few dollars, had either gone to ground or were scared witless by the rhetoric and threats pouring fourth.
North Korea was obviously aiming to make the most of the story, and even their Beloved Leader, Kim Jong-Un had visited the scene of the execution, and the farm from which the man had been stealing food. He hailed the farmer and his workers as heroes of the State for catching the man. And to reinforce their threats, they had fired two long range rockets towards the South, which had landed in the sea.
None of this helped America get to the truth of the matter. The UK wasn’t being much help, either.
Haines was beginning to get cross.
Powell Freeman was his Deputy, and getting the rough edge of things at the moment.
“Get people over there,” demanded Haines.
“Where in particular?”
“North Korea, of course.”
“It just ain’t that simple, I’m afraid boss,” replied Freeman. “They’re hostile and a closed society – people can’t just walk in and out. For a start, it takes three months to get a visa, and even if we forge one, that takes days.”
“Find a defector, and send him back then.” Haines wasn’t thinking straight. He was often like that when his sleep had been disturbed.
“And get someone into the UK.”
“We’ve got plenty over there now.”
“No damned good, by the sound of it, else they’d know what the Brits are up to.”
“The Brits, as you call them, say they aren’t up to anything.”
“Well I don’t believe it. Get someone over there who knows his way around, and can find out what’s going on.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“I need better than that. I need to be able to report that we’ve done something when the President rings again. Everyone else is doing something, except us.”
“Like what, for instance.”
“Like the Pentagon is diverting a Carrier Group in the Pacific towards Japan. Like the Air Force is moving an extra squadron of F22’s to Hawaii. Things like that, that’s like what!”
“I suggest you tell the President we’re getting our best people on to it and re-enforcing our operations in the theatre, but for obvious reasons don’t want to go into details, in case they leak.”
“But he’s Commander–in-Chief for God’s sake. He’s entitled to know! Start moving people about, and start finding out what the hell’s going on!”
***
It was late the next morning when Lou Lopez loped into James Piper’s office in MI6.
“Lou! What on earth brings you here?!”
“You do.”
“The last time we met was in Prague, during the cold war. I suppose you still drink black coffee?”
“Please. And Bourbon, if there is any.”
The two men shook hands warmly.
James’s secretary was still hovering in the door.
“Loads of strong black coffee please Carol, and a cup for Lee Cooper.”
He groped into the bottom draw of his desk for a bottle of Jack Daniels as Carol was leaving.
“You’d better get another of these, too, the way things are going!”
“Nice to see you again, James, and I’m sorry it’s all a bit of a rush. But the CIA is in a bit of a state at the moment – or at least Powell Freeman is – because everyone seems to think it’s one of your guys who got shot in North Korea, and we are carrying the can.”
“And they seem to think it’s one of yours,” countered Piper. “They’re so sure, in fact, that they’ve started losing off missiles.”
“And we’re sending a Carrier Group half way round the world, and more of our latest F22 Raptors to Honolulu and all that crap. The President thinks everyone is doing something about it except us, which is why Powell sent me here.”
Lee Cooper arrived.
“Lou is here as a PR exercise for the CIA, with nothing to do for a couple of days,” explained Piper helpfully. “So I hope you’re not busy either,” he said to Cooper. “We could all have dinner tonight, and charge it up.”
“That would be nice,” said Cooper. “I’ve nothing much on at the moment either.”
“Are you guys honestly trying to tell me that it wasn’t one of your people?”
Piper sipped his Jack Daniels, which he didn’t much enjoy anyway, and certainly not before lunch. “I can honestly tell you, Lou, as old operatives together, that nobody from MI6 has been lost in action in North Korea. Lee?”
“Absolutely true, Lou. We only have a couple of people over there anyway, and they aren’t out in the field. True, James?”
“True. Would we lie to you, of all people, Lou?”
“Who the hell was it then?” asked Lou Lopez. “We were sure it was you lot chasing after that nuclear guy, Choi something.”
“Like you, we offered him asylum if he wanted it while he was here, but he refused to defect. End of story,”
“Do you have any int. at all?” aske Lopez.
“As you know, we always believe everything the North Koreans say,” said Piper with a wicked grin, “so we thought it had to be one of yours.”
“On the other hand,” offered Cooper, “it could be nobody at all. Just pure invention on their part to stir up trouble.”
“I’m inclined to agree. One of our people suggested the same,” said Lopez, offering up his glass. “This stuff’s very old, by the way.”
They chatted on for a bit longer.
Lou stood and stretched.
“I’ll get word to Langley, if you’ll excuse me, and get my head down for a bit.”
“Use our coms. if you like,” offered Piper.
“It would save me a trip to the Embassy. Thanks.”
“See you for dinner, then. How about Rules in Covent Garden? About eight be OK? I’ll get Carol to take you down to the Coms Centre, and then book a table.”
When they’d gone, Cooper puffed his cheeks.
“Thank God for the Army,” he said.
“Lopez should be convinced it wasn’t one of ours, at least, and he never asked about the SAS or anyone else.”
“He doesn’t know we had two Special Forces guys over there, either, never mind one.”
“I must get on to ‘C’. I gather Sir Geoffrey has been busy today as well.”
“I’ll bet his Jack Daniels isn’t as old as ours, either.”
***