Battle Born (34 page)

“It’s under way right now,” Whiting went on. “President Kwon and General Park briefed me in detail. They have apparently infiltrated many North Korean command, control, and communications facilities to the
point where they were able to shut down most of that country’s early-warning, air defense, and command networks. His planes are crossing the border as we speak. All of the planes he was going to use in the Team Spirit exercise are going to be used against the North.” Whiting’s voice broke for a moment. “Mr. President—Kevin—this is . . . frightening. I’m afraid. The war is on and we don’t know what’s going to happen next.”

“Ellen . . . Ellen, don’t worry,” Martindale said as calmly as he could. She knew what the President was just realizing: if the Chinese or North Koreans retaliated, that command center at Osan would probably be their primary target—and, faced with a massive invasion, it was very possible that either side could use chemical, biological, or nuclear weapons. China had certainly showed its willingness to use nuclear weapons just two short years ago. “I’m calling in the entire staff right now,” the President said quickly. “We’ll all be right here with you from now on.”

“Do you want to talk with President Kwon or Admiral—”

“I don’t want to talk with anyone or do anything else but be with you on the phone, right here, right now,” Martindale told her. “Try to relax. Talk to me. What’s going on in there?”

“Nothing . . . I mean, Jesus, Kwon and Park are watching the computer screens and chatting like a couple of guys watching a baseball game on TV. I can see dozens of lines moving north across the border. Lots of them heading toward Pyongyang, but most going after a base just north of Seoul. I . . . I can’t believe how calm these little bastards are . . .” Ellen Whiting stopped, her eyes wide in surprise, then she bit down on her right index finger. “Oh God, Mr. President, did I just say what I thought I said?”

“Ellen, stop calling me ‘Mr. President’ for once,
okay?” Martindale said. “The name’s Kevin, remember? And they sure as hell have given you a reason to call them some names, haven’t they? I think you deserve to call them any name you goddamn feel like calling them right now.”

“I . . . oh shit, oh shit . . .”

“Ellen, what is it?”

“I . . . dammit, my knees are knocking!” Whiting cried. She broke into laughter. “I can’t believe this! I’m so scared, I’m shivering so much, my knees are knocking! I always thought that was a figure of speech or a cartoon thing. I guess your knees really can knock if you’re frightened enough.” She paused for a moment, then asked, “Are you going to leave Washington, Kevin?”

“I’ll discuss that with Philip, Jerrod, and Admiral Balboa as soon as they get here.”

“It might be a good idea . . .”

“I told you, I’m staying right here,” Martindale said. He raised his voice so everyone else in the Oval Office could hear. “I’m giving a direct fucking order—I’m staying right here! End of discussion! Oh, good, Jerrod’s here already . . . Jerrod, the staff meets right here, in this office. I’m not putting this phone down until I know the Vice President is safe . . . I don’t care if we can transfer the call to Air Force One or the NAOC. I’m not putting it down.” Whiting knew that NAOC, pronounced “kneock,” was the National Airborne Operations Center, formerly known as the National Emergency Airborne Command Post, a heavily modified Boeing 747 that allowed the President to command and control American military forces all over the world—even launch ballistic missiles if necessary. In 1992 the NAOC had been placed on standby status at Offutt Air Force Base in Nebraska; but after the China nuclear conflict, another one was stationed on round-the-clock
alert at Andrews Air Force Base, ready to evacuate the National Command Authority—the President, the secretary of defense, and other national defense officials—from Washington.

“Admiral, I want a company of marines on their way from Seoul or Inchon to retrieve the Vice President and get her out of Osan, and I want it
now
,” Whiting heard the President order. “Do it with the ROK’s cooperation, but you are authorized to use whatever means necessary to secure her and her party’s safety. Is that understood?” Whiting heard the most enthusiastic “Yes,
sir
!” she had ever heard from Admiral George Balboa. “You still there, Ellen?”

“You’re sending the marines in after me, Kevin?” she asked, managing to smile through the fear.

“Damn right I am.”

“I think that would be very dangerous, given all that’s going on . . .”

“It’s their job, Ellen. Let them do it. I know a couple of jarheads who would gladly take on the North
and
South Koreans just for a chance to grab onto you, haul you over their shoulders, and whisk you off to freedom.”

“Sounds very romantic.”

“And I thought you hated military guys.”

“I do. But I love heroes. Doesn’t matter what they’re wearing. Any uniform, any flag . . . or nothing at all.”

“Hey, you’re starting to sound like me,” the President said. “Laughing and making crude remarks in the face of . . . of . . .”

“Imminent nuclear annihilation?” the Vice President finished the sentence for him. There was a long pause, then a heavy sigh “Yeah,” she said, “I guess you
are
rubbing off on me a bit.”

“It’s about time,” the President said.

“Mr. Presi—Kevin,” Whiting said hesitantly. “I
should tell you how I feel about you. I want to tell you, I have always . . .” Then she stopped.

“Ellen? Always what?”

“Something’s happening down in the command center,” the Vice President said nervously. “A lot of excitement. Yelling, screaming . . . I can’t tell what they’re saying, what’s happening . . . General Park, what’s going on? General . . .?“There was a long pause; then . . . “My God,
no
! Oh my God! Kevin! It’s happened! Kevin, we’re—”

And the line went dead.

OVER THE KOREAN PENINSULA
THAT SAME TIME

T
he sleepy little coastal city of Kangnung, population 130,000, is the largest city and the main transportation hub on South Korea’s east coast, and culturally one of the most vital and important places in all of South Korea. The city is the home of one national treasure, twelve lesser treasures, and hundreds of artifacts, ancient sites, homes, and properties, some dating back three thousand years. It is the home of one of the nine sects of Silla Buddhism and also of several famous Confucian scholars.

The site of one of Kangnung’s three ancient Buddhist temples, Hansong-Sa, is only four kilometers from the city’s Central Market and just outside Kangnung Airport, on the coast south of Anmok Beach. Although there is now a modern temple there, it was the site of a two-thousand-year-old temple from which two marble seated Buddha statues were taken, both of which are priceless national treasures. One statue is on display in
the Kangnung Municipal Museum; the other is in the National Museum in Seoul.

As important as the national treasures are to all Koreans, even more important now were the military units at Kangnung Airport, located between Han-song-Sa temple and the Sea of Japan. In case of war with the North, it was the duty of the Fifth Air Division of the Republic of Korea Air Force to protect South Korea’s rear flank, while most of the other air and ground forces would assist in the defense of the capital. Fifth Division had three air wings located at Kangnung: the Fifteenth Attack Wing, with almost a hundred American surplus A-37B Dragonfly light close-air support fighters stationed there; the Twenty-first Attack Wing, with forty-eight British-made Hawk Mk60 light fighter-bombers; and the Seventeenth Fighter Wing, with American-made F-5E/F Talon fighters.

Located just thirty miles south of the DMZ, Kangnung had an important role in protecting Seoul from an attack from the rear and preventing any Communist forces from gaining a foothold in the Taebaek Mountains. Some of the bloodiest battlefields of the Korean War had been just northwest of Kangnung—Old Baldy, the Punchbowl, and Heartbreak Ridge, among others. The Koreans and their American allies created a massive air fighting force at Kangnung to assure complete domination in this vitally important northeast region.

All that was about to disappear.

Of one hundred and fifty-one operational nuclear-armed Nodong-1 and-2 ballistic missiles in North Korea, only twelve launched that morning. The missiles had a maximum range of over twelve hundred nautical miles, but no missile flew farther than four hundred miles. All the missiles aimed at Seoul were intercepted by American Patriot PAC-3 antiballistic missile systems,
as were the missiles aimed at the American air base at Kunsan. One warhead exploded just a few miles west of Inchon, causing massive damage to that vitally important port city.

One Nodong-1 missile missed its intended target by over two miles, but with a fifty-kiloton-yield warhead onboard, accuracy was not that important. The warhead exploded over the Central Market District of Kangnung, flattening everything within three miles and creating an immense fire storm that engulfed the entire vicinity as far south as Kwandong University and as far north as Kyongpo Lake. Everything above ground level at Kangnung Airport was either swept out to sea or exploded into a ball of flame, and its ashes blown out into the Sea of Japan.

The Nodong-1 missile fired from Unit Twenty near Sunan flew only one hundred and fifty miles, barely far enough to exhaust its first-stage fuel supply before ejecting its warhead. It, too, missed its intended target, in fact by several kilometers—but it hit the edge of the city of Suwon, twenty miles south of Seoul, destroying one of South Korea’s largest industrial complexes, the immense Samsung Electric group in the southeast section of the city. The bulk of the blast missed the Republic of Korea Air Force base south of the city, but the blast’s overpressure destroyed or damaged several other key companies and universities. The fifty-kiloton-yield nuclear warhead detonated twenty thousand feet in the air, digging a thirty-story-deep crater in the earth and instantly incinerating anything within three miles of ground zero. Almost fifteen thousand persons died in the fireball, most of them at work at the Samsung complex; another thirty thousand died in the fire storm and overpressure. Although air raid and attack sirens had been activated throughout South Korea, few had a chance to reach an underground shelter.

Although the blast was more than ten miles away, it felt like a direct hit to the occupants of the Master Control and Reporting Center at Osan Air Base, located south of Suwon. The entire structure shook and rolled as if in the grip of a magnitude-eight earthquake. The lights snapped off, replaced immediately by emergency battery-powered lights. Several of the large computer monitors down below the observation area shattered and imploded. Technicians leaped from their chairs and took cover under desks and tables as pieces of debris fell from the ceiling.

Vice President Whiting had never been in an earthquake before. It was chilling. The room vibrated back and forth, then rolled underneath her feet as if the floor were a mat of rubber floating on the ocean. The vibration lasted for fifteen or twenty seconds before and after the roll. Whiting was paralyzed with fear. Where could she go? What could she do? She was trapped in the grip of a force so powerful that she could not comprehend it. Her right ankle twisted under her body in the violent shaking, and she cried out.

Special Agent Corrie Law did the thinking for her. She pulled the Vice President under a desk, then blocked the open side with her body. But the observation room was solidly built, and little fell to the floor. The emergency lighting worked well. The large angled windows overlooking the master command room below wavered and buckled like soap bubbles, but they did not break and send glass shattering down.

In a minute or so, the shaking subsided. The air now smelled musty and very dry, as if filled with a thin misting of dust. Agent Law’s face showed deep concern as she looked at the Vice President coughing. “Are you all right, ma’am?” she shouted.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Whiting replied. She looked into
Law’s worried eyes. “You’re shouting, Corrie. Take it easy. Help me up.”

“Sorry,” said Law in a lower voice. Her strong, wiry arms pulled the Vice President to her feet.

“That Marine Corps training kicks in when something like this happens, eh?” Whiting asked with a wry smile.

“I guess so,” Law replied sheepishly. “I was in an earthquake once, in Turkey. A whole building collapsed on top of us.” She looked around. “This place looks spotless compared to that.”

She and Whiting looked out over the battle staff and support staff operating areas. The place was in surprisingly good shape. The computers and consoles were dark, but they were surprised to see that the phones were still in use. As they watched, Korean technicians were busily rolling out huge mounted charts and large transparent greaseboards, setting up for monitoring the emergency the old-fashioned way, before computerized maps and real-time data feeds.

General Park came over to them. “Are you all right, Madam Vice President?” he asked. He looked unfazed himself, as if his command center got jolts like that every morning.

“We’re fine,” Whiting replied. “Where’s President Kwon?”

“Down there, I am sure,” Park replied, motioning toward the observation windows. Sure enough, they saw the president of the Republic of Korea, with two armed guards nearby, walking in front of the general staff positions, checking on them; it was clear he was exhorting them to find out what had happened. They saw the startled looks on the staff officers’ faces as they realized their president was standing before them, and how quickly they scrambled back into their seats and picked up their telephones.

“I suggest we go downstairs, Madam Vice President. Communications are limited right now, and we will be able to hear the information as it comes in.”

Officers and technicians had a second shock at the sight of the Vice President joining them in the battle staff area moments later. Seats were quickly found for them. Whiting had Admiral Allen on one side and President Kwon on the other, with Corrie Law behind her and one of the marine guards in front of her. General Park was crouched on the floor, wearing a headset and listening to his senior officers and controllers as they reported in to him. When the briefing concluded, he turned down the volume and stood up.