Paths of Courage (5 page)

Several hours after a non-stop trek through rugged, remote hill country, Ryder and his team arrived at the broad Sinhung Valley. Below lay the main north – south highway between the town of Sinhung and Hamhung, with railway tracks running parallel, and beyond them the Songchon River in full flood. The river in winter is a series of shallow rivulets running over gravel beds, but now, with the summer rains, it had swollen into a single, fast-moving mass of brown, surging water, 400 yards wide. There was no way they would be able to cross by swimming or even on some form of hashed up raft. It was too high and fast.

The group rested up under the protection of a rocky outcrop, screened by bush, to contemplate the next move and to eat.

“Crossing that torrent is definitely out,” said Ryder.

The others all agreed.

“Where's the nearest bridge?” Chol asked.

Ryder referred to the map. “The nearest is in Sinhung, three miles north.” He ran his finger down the map. “There's another about ten miles to the south at Chongho.”

“Chongho?” questioned Song, running his hand through his hair and staring at the map. The Korean displayed a quiet determination and confidence that impressed Ryder. If anything happened, he would be the one to take over.

“Small garrison town.”

“Needs to be avoided then,” said Chol, making himself comfortable. He leaned back against the rock face. Taking pistol from his sack, he removed and examined the fifteen- round magazine, took out the bullet in the breach then squeezed the trigger twice before replacing both, satisfied everything was okay. He attached the suppressor and put the pistol back into the sack.

“Sinhung is not a good option,” Ryder continued. “The town is close to the chemical weapons complex. You can guarantee there'll be a heavy military presence.”

“So, a choice of two evils,” said Bom, shrugging his shoulders and opening a ration pack.

“We should go south,” offered Song. “More likely Chongho will have less of a military presence.”

“A garrison town would be crawling with troops,” countered Bom.

“Sinhung presents more risk,” offered Chol, chewing on a strip of dried meat.

They lapsed into silence.

Grace spoke next. “If I may add my thoughts,” she said in an authoritative tone, looking coldly at Ryder. “It would seem to me easier to go unnoticed in a large town with lots of civilian people than in a small town more likely dominated by military personnel, where civilians could come under much closer scrutiny. Also my understanding is that going north through Sinhung would roughly maintain our north-westerly direction and may even cut down the time to the search area. Would that be correct, Mr Ryder?” she asked, not taking her eyes away from his and speaking for the first time since the death of the goat herder.

She was right. “Good logic; exactly my thoughts.” A lengthy pause, then he said, “Sinhung it is then.” He glanced at the others, each of whom returned a grin. Ryder yearned for a cigarette, but made do chewing on a lump of dried meat.

They spent another hour under the outcrop, resting and deciding the best route. Staying close to the valley highway was the most obvious and the easiest, but also the most dangerous for being discovered. Eventually they agreed to keep to the bush-clad hills right up to the outskirts of the town, even though this would entail a gruelling five-klick hike traversing the predominantly east-west aspect of the terrain going directly north. When the hour was up Ryder gave the order to move out and the group made its way single-file down the north- facing slope towards the town.

Perched within the bush overlooking the southeastern outskirts of the town, Ryder swept binoculars across rows of single-storey dwellings immediately below, including the main tree-lined thoroughfares beyond leading directly to the bridge. Green, leafy trees stood in stark contrast to the array of grey stone and concrete utilitarian buildings. It was early evening and a watery sun began to dip below the horizon. He scanned the roads and bridge and was surprised at the number of people, bicycles and trucks dotting the roadways. The army personnel were freely mingling with the flow. He knew from the briefings that Sinhung had a population of about 10,000, mostly agricultural workers with the rest working in the chemical factory. But from the number of people and soldiers, he could see that seemed an underestimation; he hoped it would be to their advantage to get lost amongst the crowds.

The bridge itself stood at the head of the two main converging roads. To follow the river and try to cross elsewhere could put days, or possibly weeks, on the mission. The longer they remained in this hostile land, the more likely they would be discovered. He raised his binoculars to take in the mountains beyond. To reach them and continue in a northwesterly direction, the bridge had to be risked; an unnerving prospect. With mixed feelings of apprehension and uncertainty, he gave the order to move out and head for the roadway below.

A group of men sat at the long, green-baize-covered table in the Cabinet Room of Number 10, Downing Street, listening to the Chief of the Secret Intelligence Service, Sir Jeffery Powell, give his latest report. Next to him sat the Prime Minister, William Maxwell, and across the table sat the Minister of Defence, Michael Trafford; Foreign Secretary, David Regis, and Commander-in-Chief, Fleet Admiral Sir Robert Engels.

“… In conclusion, gentlemen, this situation poses a serious threat,” ended Sir Jeffery, removing his glasses and looking intently at each of the others at the table.

A long silence prevailed before the Prime Minister cleared his throat, looking perplexed at the nation's spy chief. “How reliable is this new intelligence?”

“Experience tells us – very.”

Another tense silence.

“If what you're saying is true, Sir Jeffery, we must act swiftly,” said the PM, breaking the silence. “It seems to me we have little choice. Al-Qaeda won't give a damn about hitting targets here or in America – all they want is to rule the world at any price. But would the North Koreans risk the sort of retaliation we would deal them if they were planning to do that?” he questioned, his clear blue eyes conveying dignity and compassion. He had a reputation for a no-nonsense, pragmatic approach.

“The regime is under pressure over the nuclear issue, despite Kim Jong-Un's promises,” said Michael Trafford. His heavily hooded brown eyes stared hard at the PM. “The U.S. has cut aid considerably as we all know. Acute shortage of foreign aid is slowly strangling what little economy they have left. The population is starving. I believe they might well take the risk.”

Sir Jeffery responded. “According to the North Korean being held in Seoul, the delivery of the sub and its missiles has taken place; he doesn't know to whom, nor does he know to where. I'm inclined to believe that, knowing the Korean interrogation methods.”

“The Americans and ourselves monitor all Russian and Chinese-manufactured submarines capable of firing missiles,” said Engels, a short, dapper man with dark hair greying at the temples. He stood out in his immaculate naval uniform in contrast to the others in sober suits.

“Who else has nuclear submarine capabilities?” asked Trafford.

“Ourselves of course; the Americans, Russia, India, China and the French,” answered Engels. “China has three in her fleet, France four and Russia a total of fourteen at the last count. We endeavour to keep track of all foreign submarines, especially nuclear,” he concluded.

“Unfortunately,” snapped Trafford, “we don't know which. This go-between negotiates only delivery dates and payout terms; he's obviously not in the loop for detail, otherwise we would at least know the payload, nuclear or bio. More importantly we would know the target. For all we know, this sub with its clutch of missiles could be on its way to our shores as we speak. An experienced crew would be needed too, capable of operating the sub and the missile systems.” He looked intently at the PM. “We need to interrogate this man ourselves – and quick. Tell the South Koreans to hand him over.”

“Easier said than done, Michael,” the PM replied. “They would want to know how we found out about this man. No matter what diplomatic strings we pull it will take weeks, if not months, to get him out. We do not have the time. Besides, I would not put it past the South Koreans to eliminate him just to avoid extradition to us.” He looked at the intelligence chief for confirmation, which he got.

Trafford nodded his acceptance.

“Can we account for all of the subs?” questioned David Regis, a tall, grey-haired, distinguished-looking man.

“Not all Russian subs,” Engels replied. “Several are out, but we have a good idea of their whereabouts. Those at home bases are regularly monitored by ourselves and the Americans. Anyhow, I understand all were out before the deal referred to in this report was made.”

“How long is the normal stay time at a home base?” Regis questioned.

“Depends on a number of things; not least of which would be their maintenance programs,” Engels answered. “The newer subs – maybe two or three months; the older ones, six months or more. The Russians have had three of their Delta III's in covered pens in Rybachiy, on the Kamchatka Peninsula, for over a year now. They are either undergoing repairs or in the process of being decommissioned. This is not unusual; they are gradually building their fleet.”

“How many Delta III's are still in service?” Regis asked.

“Five altogether,” Engels shot back. “We know that the K449, K496 and K433 are penned at Rybachiy – K223 and K211 are out on active duty in the north Pacific.”

“Could it be one of those last two?” the PM asked.

“I doubt it. The Americans have been monitoring their movements for the last six months, patrolling the Alaskan coastline between their return to base for provisions. The latest report we have indicates they are still up there.”

“The three in Rybachiy,” Regis pressed. “Are they the longest Russian nuclear subs to have stayed in the base at any one time?”

“Yes, confirmed by satellite.”

“How can the satellites verify, if the subs are in covered pens?” Regis pressed.

“As Rybachiy is Russia's largest nuclear sub base and home to the Pacific Fleet, it's kept under surveillance by the Americans, who share the results with us.”

“Do they use a geo sat?”

“No; orbital – once every twelve hours.”

Regis nodded and looked at the others. “One of the Deltas could have slipped away between orbits.”

“Do we have signatures of the three?” questioned Trafford.

“We do,” replied the admiral, then he turned to the PM. “Every engine makes a specific noise, which is referred to by all navies as a ‘signature'. We and the Americans have a data base covering every other known submarine in service, including Russian, to keep track of where they are in the oceans and to log movements of particular types of submarines. This base is constantly updated whenever the opportunity arises, especially during the cat and mouse games played out in the oceans around the world.”

“From now on, all Russian subs encountered are to be regarded as hostile, especially if the signature of any of the three now in Rybachiy is confirmed,” said the PM firmly.

“Take out a Russian and we could start a war,” said Regis.

“They didn't when America sunk K-129,” said Engels.

“Was that the rogue Russian sub that was supposedly going to launch missiles at Pearl Harbour?” questioned the PM.

“Yes, sir, according to unofficial channels.”

“Presumably they didn't retaliate then because they were the perpetrators,” the PM offered. “Here, if that sub was sold to the Koreans, the Russians are doing the same thing, only indirectly. They would have nothing to gain and everything to lose if we managed to disable. I would gamble, with our island at stake, that Dimitriev would not risk starting a Third World War on that basis.”

“
We could expect some kind of a move against us. It's more than speculation the Russians sunk the USS
Scorpion
off the Azores in retaliation,” said the admiral.

“If the Deltas are waiting to be scrapped,” said Trafford, “and knowing the Russian Navy's currently streamlining their Pacific sub fleet, I would not rule out an ‘under the table' deal by regional controllers. We know the consolidation is causing hardship to redundant crews; it leaves men idle, who need to feed families.” The minister of defence paused to collect his thoughts and looked at the PM. “A call to President Dimitriev might clarify things.”

“Forget that,” shot the PM. “Dimitriev will give nothing away. They may now call themselves a democratic Russian Federation, but the mentality of the old Soviet Union is still firmly in place, believe me. Besides, I would have to explain why. Not only would that make the Russians fully aware of our situation, but it would also give them the excuse to increase their submarine activity. Not to mention surface ships in the Pacific and Atlantic Oceans which could put serious pressure on our own naval resources in those areas and, I might add, compromise our own efforts to locate and disable this submarine.”

The commander-in-chief, Engels, agreed.

Then, as if an afterthought, the PM added, “Dimitriev probably would not be too unhappy to see London blown away or, for that matter, any American city.”

Trafford came back, ignoring that last comment, “But, if a sub has been illegally sold to the North Koreans by rogue elements of the Russian Navy's eastern high command, the Kremlin would also like to locate and destroy, I'm sure, to avoid the consequences, should the sub's, and thus al-Qaeda's, intentions succeed. Having them search for their own sub could be a help more than a hindrance. We have to stop that sub by whatever means available, even if it means enlisting the help of the Russians.”

“Supposing, of course, it is Russian,” said Regis. “It could conceivably be French or Indian.”

The admiral replied, “Every one of the Indian and French nuclear subs is accounted for. There is absolutely no question these two countries would sell to another nation without ours and the Americans' prior knowledge and agreement. They are our firm allies. The Chinese are a possibility; they have three currently – all brand new. However, I would guess it unlikely that China would give one to a poor neighbour. Relationships between the two are not what you would call cordial right now.”

Engels excused himself and left the room to return a short while later.

“Apart from Seoul, none of our stations report the sale or loss of a nuclear sub by any of the nations you have mentioned,” said Sir Jeffery to both the foreign and defence ministers.

A brief silence.

“Assuming the sub is now in terrorist hands, would a Russian crew be retained?” the PM asked.

“Good point,” said Trafford. “We have to assume at this stage the crew will remain Russian, maybe assisted by Muslims. It will make it more difficult to hunt down; they know their subs well, but if a Russian crew is short of what it should be, that will test efficiency for sure.”

“Assuming, of course, that they have not been totally replaced by a Korean or Muslim crew,” the PM chimed.

“We know selected Iranian and North Korean naval personnel have been involved in Chinese and French nuclear sub training programmes. I doubt the Koreans could man a Delta, but it's possible that fundamentalist Iranians could form a crew,” said the admiral.

“Anything from ROI or SOSUS?” Trafford asked.

“The last report displayed nothing outside the normal traffic, but I'll check again and contact the Americans too.”

“ROI, SOSUS?” questioned the PM, staring at the admiral.

“Radar Ocean Imaging, sir. Radar on satellites able to detect subs underwater by the subtle changes of the waves over its path. SOSUS is the U.S. underwater global Sound Surveillance System used in antisubmarine warfare.”

The PM gave Engels a sheepish look. “What about our own Skysight satellites?”

“The Far East has yet to be covered,” Engels replied.

Silence descended again. Prime Minister Maxwell leaned forward, placing both his elbows on the table, seemingly deep in thought. Then, after several seconds, he glanced around the seated figures.

“Could she be fully armed?” he asked quietly.

“Our stats tell us she's capable of carrying a dozen torpedoes, and sixteen
Stingrays
,” Engels replied.

“If fitted with MIRV warheads, each with three 200 kilotons apiece, only a few would be needed to potentially wipe out our island,” said Regis.

“Only if she got close enough to release them,” countered Engels.

“How close is close in your opinion, admiral?” the PM asked.

“Anywhere around one hundred miles. We would need most of the entire navy to patrol our coastline and the approaches. We certainly can't do that without seriously affecting current commitments.”

“Then we have no choice but to make sure we stop the Delta before it gets here,” said the PM firmly. “In the meantime we'll put all our land-based anti-missile installations on full alert and put as many ships as we can sensibly muster to patrol the south and west approaches. Are we all agreed?”

The group nodded.

The PM turned to the admiral. “This sub may now be carrying missiles with nuclear or bio-warheads. What are your thoughts on how warheads could've been obtained and fitted?”

Engels cleared his throat. “If not supplied with the boat, only two ways really – either at sea or in a Korean naval dockyard. If at sea, she would obviously have to surface to take on board the warheads from a topside vessel and stay there until they were fitted. If this was undertaken anywhere in the western Pacific she would be exposed to the sats. The better way would be to head for a remote part of the Pacific, or even the Atlantic, not covered, and do the transfer there. As for the dockyards, the U.S. has all the North and South Korean naval yards covered. It would be difficult to make the transfer without them knowing.”

“Even under cover of heavy clouds and darkness?” questioned Trafford.

“Not a problem with the latest cloud penetration satellites and infra-reds.”

“Does anyone disagree or have anything to add to Admiral Engels's assessment?” the PM asked.

A shaking of heads.

“Okay, let's recap the facts,” he continued. “Intel strongly suggests a missile strike against the West by al-Qaeda is imminent using either nuclear or biological warheads. The attack will be by a Russian Delta sub purchased by the North Koreans on behalf of terrorists using a Russian crew, possibly aided by Muslim extremists. It also suggests the Koreans have provided the warheads.” He paused. “So, gentlemen, we have to locate and disable that sub in a real hurry. How do we go about this?” He looked at the admiral.