3.
THE VISITORS
The visit to Culham was scheduled to be over three days, except that now, Dr. Choi Shin would only be there for two. His second day would be spent at the MOD Atomic Weapons Establishment at Aldermaston, leaving his colleague Jang Nam to continue the visit, with their escort and minder, Moon Pak.
The visit to Culham proved interesting and informative for both the Korean scientists, and their English hosts. Jang was the nuclear fusion expert rather than Choi, but neither of them had realised just how far ahead British scientists were in the research field.
Fusion power offered an almost limitless source of energy for the future once the formidable scientific and engineering problems surrounding its development were overcome. Because of this potential, every major nation in the world was pursuing its own research programme to some extent, in a commercially competitive effort to achieve the Holy Grail of meeting the fast-growing world-wide demand for energy. And energy was particularly at a premium in North Korea, where erratic supplies of electricity and frequent power cuts as well as imposed rationing hindered the country’s already slow development. That’s why Choi and Jang were at Culham.
In spite of the commercial imperatives of the research, there was also a great deal of international co-operation, particularly among scientists, even if this was not shared between politicians. Harnessing nuclear fusion would answer the world’s insatiable demand for energy without contributing to global warming, and without producing massive amounts of radioactive waste. What waste there was, quickly decayed. Hydrogen was its main fuel – the most commonly available natural gas in the universe.
To make this dream of endless power a commercial reality meant engineering the fusion together of such nuclei as hydrogen isotopes so as to release energy, which was Jang’s area of expertise. Choi’s speciality was the rather easier technique of splitting atoms in nuclear fission, the process used for weapons.
The fusion process was similar to that which takes place in the sun and other stars, and requires similar exceptionally high temperatures. Energy-producing fusions need gas from a combination of the hydrogen isotopes deuterium and tritium to be heated to some one hundred million degrees centigrade and to be confined for about a second. During this time, the plasma of electrons and hydrogen interact to fuse into helium, and some of their mass is destroyed, releasing huge amounts of energy in the form of heat, light and radiation. Such fusions had been carried out in laboratories around the world for many years, but only for very short durations. Confinement for longer periods would result in a controllable, continuous reaction, which generated more energy than it used.
That was the goal of the scientists at Culham.
Earlier work had suggested that the use of magnetic confinement of the gas was the most promising way to achieve a continuous ‘burn’, and even now a top secret research project being carried out in Nevada, at the Skunk Works of Lockheed Martin, was proceeding on that basis.
However, thanks largely to Culham’s work, research to achieve the same objective using lasers was now well advanced in the UK.
This was of immediate interest to Choi, who was himself working with lasers in an attempt to develop a quicker and more productive means of enriching uranium, rather than use the present expensive and slow system of centrifuges.
The scientists at Culham told their Korean guests of their reasoning that using lasers would provide the ability to maintain a steady flow of fusion blasts, taking research closer to the continuous system needed for commercial power generation. This work had led to the formation of the High Power Laser Programme at the Rutherford Appleton Laboratory at Harwell, but this aspect of their research was considered so important that very little of it was made public knowledge, even within the scientific communities of co-operating countries.
“No wonder we had never heard of this ground-breaking work,” said Jang.
“Is there no more you can tell us or show us?” asked Choi. “Although fusion is not my particular field, I too am experimenting with the use of lasers to develop a uranium enrichment process that could replace the wretched centrifuges.”
Jang frowned, and Choi immediately realised that he had said too much. Fortunately, their minder Moon Pak was in conversation with another scientist across the room, otherwise there would have been real trouble for Choi.
“I promise I will say nothing,” whispered Jang in their native Chosŏnŏ, as one of the team escorting them on their visit moved across to Choi, and introduced himself as Professor Newman.
“As it happens,” he said, “I am from Harwell, which as you know is the centre of the UK’s nuclear research activity. It also happens, Dr. Choi that I have heard of your work in this field in collaboration with the Chinese.”
“How could you possibly know?” demanded Choi. “It is a very closely guarded secret, and I should not even have mentioned it at all, but I was so excited to discover about your work with lasers. How did you know?” he repeated.
“I really can’t remember the source of this information,” lied Newman. “Perhaps it was from an American colleague at the Lawrence Livermore University, where they are conducting similar work.”
“I have been there,” responded Choi, “and your work with lasers was never even mentioned to me.”
“Perhaps because they are so far behind us in their research!” joked Newman. “I realise you are from a very closed society, but I can tell you that even in the very specialised world of nuclear physics, a good deal of news gets out. Naturally, I am as keen to learn more about your work as you are to learn about ours.”
“I am sworn to secrecy,” replied Choi, now extremely cautious.
“So am I,” replied Newman, “but I shall be with you throughout your tour, including your visit tomorrow to Aldermaston, Dr. Choi, so I will answer any of your questions if I can, within the bounds of security. But now we must move on. We have a buffet lunch arranged, and after that a demonstration of our how our work is developing.”
“Shall we see an actual live fusion experiment in your laboratory?” asked Jang.
“Of course.”
Choi was hugely impressed, not only by the work being carried out by the people he had met so far, but also by their openness and apparent willingness to talk about their work to a stranger from an alien and aggressive foreign power. He was becoming more and more convinced that he should help them in their work, and that they would be able to prevent the world catastrophe which he was sure would eventually result from his own work with the Chinese.
***
Valuable and stimulating though his visit to Culham had been, Choi was greatly looking forward to his day at Aldermaston, not least because he would be free of the company of fellow scientist, Jang Nam, who knew little about uranium enrichment, but especially because that nuisance Moon Pak, their minder, would also be left behind. That meant that he would get the chance to be frank and open with his hosts, and perhaps finally decide whether or not he should betray his country in the interests of world peace. He was already in no doubt that, if he did so, the United Kingdom would be the recipient of his knowledge rather than America. He had not yet worked out how he would accomplish this transfer of technical data, since he certainly had no wish to defect and remain abroad. He was, however, sure that the people he had already met would be able to devise some means by which he could give them the information they wanted, if that was what he eventually decided to do. But that decision was a long way off yet, and it would not be an easy one for him to take.
He was taken to Aldermaston by Lee Cooper, and he was delighted to find on arrival that others who he had met at dinner in Oxford were also there. He had got on well with them, and was surprised at their friendly and relaxed attitude towards him. At no time had he felt himself to be under any pressure to divulge secrets or speak out of turn. Yet, on reflection afterwards, he had to admit to one or two indiscretions, shall we say, and perhaps even to have given away rather more information than he should. It was not the wine, excellent though that had been. He suspected that one or two of his hosts were well versed in the techniques of interrogation.
The same was probably true of those he had met at Culham, where he knew he had already said more than he should about his work. He was worried by the fact at the time, and yet they appeared to know about it anyway, even that he was working with the Chinese. He wondered if they realised that the Chinese were using North Korea and its people as pawns in a deadly game.
The team who would brief him and escort him at Aldermaston was also looking forward to his visit. They were keen to establish for certain several facts, not least of which was whether or not he was a possible candidate for defection. There was still the possibility that he could have been sent over simply to spy on the U.K.’s own nuclear activities and nothing else, but steps had already been taken to ensure that he learnt very little more than he would already know. The tour that he was to be given was much the same as that given quite regularly to first year university students, although the briefing could cut a few corners as he already knew much of the basic science being carried out there, and the mathematics which formed the basis of it. The team had agreed that much could be learnt about his level of knowledge from the questions he asked, and that was one area which they were keen to probe. How much did he know, and was his level of expertise sufficiently high to be of value if he could be persuaded to talk openly?
Choi immediately noticed the heightened security at Aldermaston, and the complex procedure which had to be followed to gain access to the site. He was photographed, his finger prints taken, and images of his irises were captured, so as to make access to various departments at the facility that much easier. He also noticed that he was closely escorted as well – he could not blame them for that.
It proved to be a long day, during which Choi felt free to ask as many questions as he liked, some very technical in nature. His hosts did their best to provide him with equally detailed answers, so far as their national security would allow, and on occasions even conferred between themselves before replying to his query. They were plainly keen to be as open with him as they could be.
For their part, the UK delegation was learning a lot from his questions, which not only revealed gaps in his knowledge, but also gave valuable clues to the work he was carrying out in North Korea.
They had a working lunch, during which a few of his hosts excused themselves to check on what was happening in their offices.
In fact they met privately to discuss their guest.
Their conclusion was that Dr Choi undoubtedly had information about the North Korean and Chinese nuclear research programmes which they would find of vital national and international importance if they could only gain access to the detail.
The problem was how to get it.
By the end of the day, Choi was bemused by the wealth of information he had been given and the facilities which he had been shown, as well as the openness of friendliness of his hosts. He could not help but draw comparisons with his visit to America, which had been so different.
He wished he could stay longer, and said so.
“You are more than welcome to stay for as long as you wish,” said Paul Sheppard, the MOD man from Aldermaston.
He realised that the longer Choi stayed, the more they would learn.
“Given time,” he said, “we could even arrange for you to visit the Clyde Naval Base in Scotland, commonly known as Faslane, which is home to the core of the Royal Navy’s Submarine Service, including the nation’s nuclear deterrent. No doubt while you’re there, a visit could also be arranged to the nearby Royal Naval Armaments Depot at Coulport, which is responsible for the storage and maintenance of our Trident Deterrent Missile System.”
They could see that Choi was tempted by the bait, but he shook his head.
“I cannot stay,” he said sadly.
He thought for a moment.
“There is much of your work which I greatly admire, even after so short a visit, and there is much more that I would wish to discover, perhaps during our final day at Culham tomorrow. If I dare also say so, there is much more I could – perhaps even should - tell you about our own programmes, without the presence of my two colleagues here, but I dare not.”
“We would also be equally interested to learn more of your work,” said Martin Davis, one of the escorts, who worked in Defence Intelligence. “Your colleagues are still at Culham today, so feel free to brief us further if you wish, while you are here and away from them.”
“I dare not,” repeated Choi, looking anxious. “But there is much which I think you should know, if I had the courage to tell you.”
“Why? What should we know?”
“Before I answer that, let me ask one further question.”
“Of course.”
“You are signatories to the nuclear test ban treaty, and we are not? How do you manage to keep your weapons up to date and modify them to make them more effective without these test?”
“Simple, really,” replied Sheppard. “We carry out computer simulations, and check our results using complex mathematical algorithms which we have developed.”
“In Korea, we use real-time tests on every development.” Choi looked embarrassed. “Our bombs are dirty bombs, and so are our tests. No doubt you have a means of checking the extent of the nuclear radiation which we release into the atmosphere when we carry out tests. I am ashamed of the effects which are being caused, especially on innocent people in my own country, never mind the atmospheric pollution.”
“We are certainly able to monitor such things,” replied Sheppard, guardedly.
Choi looked around at his hosts.
“You should know that, in my view, the work in which I am involved poses a real and present threat to international security, and I believe it should at least be stopped or countered. I can say no more.”
He shrugged.
“I hope you know you can trust us,” said Sheppard.
“I am sure,” replied Choi. “But there is too much at stake personally for me to talk more openly. I have already said too much – enough to send me and all friends and my family, even distant relations, to one of our notorious penal camps. I cannot risk that, for their sake.”
“If you wish to stay in this country, we could arrange asylum for you in such a way that your authorities would not suspect any betrayal on your part,” suggested Davis.
Sheppard thought Davis had gone too far, and shook his head, frowning. Davis got the message.
“I will not stay,” replied Choi with an air of finality.
Members of the Defence team, desperate to know more, had other ideas.
***
In the car back to his Hotel in Oxford with Lee Cooper, Choi was silent.
Thoughtful.
Cooper left him to think.
On the outskirts of Oxford, Choi turned to Cooper.
“Are you a member of the security services here?” Choi asked, out of the blue.
Cooper was taken by surprise. He had no time to think, except that he could not immediately think of any reason to deny it.
“Yes. I work for the Foreign Office in their intelligence section.”
Choi did not respond at once.
Eventually, he said, “That is how you knew about my visit to America?”
“Yes.”
“And my work with the Chinese?”
“Yes.”
“And my work with centrifuges?”
“Yes.”
“And lasers?”
“Yes.”
There was a pause.
“Did you know that the Americans wanted me to stay?”
“Yes.”
“I’m glad I didn’t.”
“So are we.”
“Are you exchanging information with them about me?”
“No. They know you are here, and have asked us to share with them any information you may give us about your work. We have so far declined, not least because they did not share with us anything that they may have learnt during your visit to them.”
“Good. But they learnt nothing. I told them nothing.”
“They nevertheless believed you may have wished to talk more openly. Perhaps even to defect.”
“Defect to America? Never!”
Choi lapsed into silence again.
“Do you know about my nephew?” he asked as they drew up outside the Hotel.
“Choi Yong?”
“Good. You do know.”
“I know nothing about him.”
“He plans to follow in my footsteps and has joined our new Pyongyang University of Science and Technology. We are very close to one another, and we share similar views about the work I am doing. I have encouraged him to travel if he ever can, but like me, he is reluctant to attempt anything. His parents, including my brother, are already in one of our prisons, and we may never see them again.”
“I understand,” replied Cooper.
“I hope you do,” Dr. Choi almost whispered.
He grinned as he left the car.
Lee Cooper switched off his recorder.
***
The Ministry of Defence members of the party escorting Dr. Choi were in a bit of a flap if they were honest, when he left Aldermaston.
It was plain to all of them now that Dr. Choi was not prepared to defect, but they knew enough from what he had said during the day to know that he had vital information which they were desperate to have.
Soon. The sooner the better, in fact. The problem was how to get it at all, if ever.
They knew they had to do something in double-quick time, but had no idea what. They needed a contingency plan, and only had a day to draw it up and put it into operation. The great difficulty was that they had no real idea what it was that they had to plan to achieve.
Should they plan to prevent his return in some way?
Should they plan to keep him here against his will and interrogate him to get the technical information they wanted about the Chinese role in North Korea’s nuclear research programme?
Should they let him go in peace, and plan to go after him? And if they did, then what?
Follow him into North Korea? That could be very dodgy. On the other hand, it would be the last thing anyone over there would expect.
‘Dodgy’ had never bothered them before. ‘Who dares, wins’ it said on the badge.
They decided they needed a meeting at the Ministry of Defence to discuss the options, and that the meeting should be chaired by General Sir Pearson-Jones, Chief of Defence Intelligence.
He wasn’t too pleased when he was told that he had been selected to take the inevitable buck, when it eventually stopped. For a start he was already dressed in his Mess-kit, complete with medals, ready to attend a dinner at the Athenaeum Club. But a meeting was nevertheless hurriedly arranged for later that evening. Martin Davis and Paul Sheppard from Aldermaston were both there, together with Colonel Seb Owen, Commander of the Special Air Service, and a couple of his colleagues.
Paul Sheppard opened the proceedings, since he had been with Dr. Choi from the outset. He set about briefing the General, inviting the others to fill in any gaps as he went.
Finally, he turned to the General.
“We are of the view that Dr. Choi has information which is vital to our understanding of what is happening in both China and North Korea in relation to their nuclear weapons programmes, and in particular into their research into uranium enrichment. We need that information if we are to plan to counter it.
“We are also firmly of the view that Choi is sufficiently disillusioned with the real purpose of his work in collaboration with the Chinese, and with life in general in his country to be prepared to help us. He seems to be suspicious that the Chinese are using North Korea and its down-trodden people in a deadly nuclear game, rather than carry out the experiments using their own people on their own soil. For various reasons, which we understand, he is not at the moment prepared to defect – to come over to our side and stay here. Also for reasons which we understand, he is not prepared while he is here to brief us fully. Not least this is because he has another scientist colleague with him, who we believe is still totally committed to his country’s ideology, and also because they have with them an official Government minder, whose sole job is to ensure that both the scientists stick to the rules. That makes it impossible for Choi to speak openly to us, even if we could get him away from his colleagues for long enough for him to do so, as we did briefly at Aldermaston today.”
“Did he open up while he was there?” asked Pearson-Jones.
“He certainly began to, but was too afraid to say too much. But it was enough to convince us all that, given the opportunity, he would tell us more. In fact, he as good as admitted it.”
“So why are we here?”
“We are here to decide what our next steps should be. The delegation returns to North Korea later tomorrow after their final day at Culham, and colleagues in MI6 are inclined to let Choi go. Our inclination is to prevent him from leaving, so that we can question him in depth. It seems criminal to us to let such a valuable source of crucially important information simply slip through our fingers, in order to avoid any sort of diplomatic fuss. It seems to us that detailed knowledge of Choi’s work is vital to our national security.”
“So there are two things to decide, then,” said the General. “First of all whether or not to prevent Choi from returning home, and secondly, if we do, how we do it. Right?”
“Correct.”
“There is always the possibility of course that if we prevent him from returning home, he will turn against us and refuse to talk anyway.”
“He is certainly very afraid of the dictatorship within which he lives, and is obviously finding it very difficult to overcome the relentless brainwashing to which all citizens are constantly subjected, so I suspect you could be right, General. An imposed defection could well turn him against us and be counterproductive.”
“And we don’t have long enough to talk him into staying,” mused the General. “Are there any incentives we can offer which might persuade him?”
“If we could guarantee the safety of all his family, then perhaps. But plainly we can’t do that. It is fear for their well-being as much as for his own that prevents him from co-operating. It is fear which is driving him home.”
“And fear of the consequences of his research work into nuclear weapons, on the other hand, which is driving him towards us,” concluded the General.
He thought for a moment.
“Kidnapping the man is obviously out of the question, in my view, and any attempt to do so would not only be counter-productive in achieving our objective, but also do long term harm. My decision, therefore, is that we let the man go home in peace. There may be no harm, however, in letting him know that we had considered the other option, and rejected it.”
“Why tell him?” asked Davis.
“To reassure him that we are a decent civilised society, unlike his own,” replied the General. “This may well help any future thoughts he may have about coming over.”
The Chief of Defence Intelligence considered the options. It seemed to him that there weren’t all that many open to them, especially given the need to act urgently.
“So now what, then? Did I hear a suggestion that we should follow him?”
“It had crossed our mind,” admitted Sheppard.
“With what object in view?” asked Pearson-Jones.
“If not to persuade him to leave voluntarily once he is back in his own familiar surroundings, then, at least to keep in touch with the man. In that way, we may, in time, either be able to give him sanctuary in this country, or perhaps collect other useful information from him about his work.”
“How would you keep in touch?” asked the General. “Since you know the man, do you propose to go to North Korea yourself, Sheppard?”
“No, sir.”
“Who then? Who else do you suggest could just turn up in North Korea, follow Dr. Choi around as he goes about his business in their top secret nuclear research facility and test site, get valuable information from him, and send it back to us? And what had you in mind - a post card, or a telephone call?”
“This obviously needs further thought and planning, General,” said Col. Seb Owen, “but as to who should go, we have two members of 22 Squadron who are fluent Korean speakers. One is a South Korean citizen, and the other a North Korean defector. And I am told that there is already in place in the country a small network of disaffected informers and helpers with whom MI6 is in touch on a regular basis. So anyone we sent would not be operating altogether alone.”
“But they would not know Dr. Choi from Adam, any more than he would know them. And knowing a little of the background to that country and how it operates, I would never be surprised if Choi immediately suspected that your two people were agents of his own dictatorship, sent to keep watch over him. Again, counterproductive.”
“Point taken,” admitted Sheppard.
“It seems to me that none of this has been properly thought through,” said the General, annoyed.
“With respect, sir, we called this meeting so that things could be properly thought through, given that we have so little time to do any planning.”
The General turned to the SAS Commanding Officer.
“How quickly can your chaps move?”
“Immediately.”
“Where are they?”
“In barracks at Hereford.”
“Visas? What about visas – they take up to six months to get hold of, I’m told.”
“They don’t need visas. They both have valid North Korean passports, and papers to get them in and out of China.”
After a moment’s thought, the General said, “Right! Send them over. Get them to Oxford ASAP so that they can at least get a look at Choi before they go, but that doesn’t mean introducing themselves to him outside the Hotel or at Heathrow. They must see but not be seen. We can decide how they should operate once they’re in place over there, and they have assessed the situation. Will communications be any problem?”
“No sir.”
“Good. How soon can you get them to Oxford?”
“Probably two hours.”
“How will you insert them into North Korea?”
“Getting them in is the easy bit, General. Getting them out will be difficult – if not impossible.”
“Do they understand that risk?”
“The will by the time they have been briefed, sir.”
“They will need to make immediate contact with our existing network over there,” said Pearson-Jones, stating the obvious. “Which means I must tell Jack Salisbury, the Chairman of the Joint Intelligence Organisation, and I suppose our own Permanent Secretary as well. They can both be trusted not to tell other civil servants or Ministers, although I guess Jack will want to bring ‘C’ into the equation as it’s his people already over there. I’ll leave that to him. This whole operation needs to be treated with the utmost secrecy, so only those who need to know should be told. And nothing in writing – we’ll sweep up the paper work later.”
As the meeting broke up, Pearson-Jones called over a junior officer who was with Colonel Owen.
“You’ve been making a lot of notes,” he said accusingly. “Hand them over.”
“General?”
“Hand them over,” he repeated. “If you haven’t brain enough to remember what’s been going on this evening, then you shouldn’t be where you are. ‘No paper, no leaks’, I always say. These will go through the shredder when I get back to the office.”
***