Speaking through a translator, the ROK Army Chief of Staff, General Yeon Min-soo, strongly disagreed. “Are you suggesting, General Olsen, that the North would dramatically reduce its combat strength on the DMZ to deal with a coup attempt? Surely the Pyongyang Defense Command and the KPA Third Corps are more than capable of dealing with such a situation!”
The American intelligence officer nodded. “That’s true, sir. Those units should have been quite capable of dealing with a coup attempt.” He paused briefly. “But what we are suggesting is that the coup was successful.”
For a brief moment, there was dead silence. But then the room erupted as officers reacted to Olsen’s statement. Voices rose as individuals either agreed with him, or flatly dismissed the possibility as absurd. Many of the South Koreans were visibly shocked by the notion of a sudden regime change in Pyongyang. Only General Park Joon-ho, the Deputy Commander of the ROK-US Combined Forces Command, remained calm.
“Gentlemen, ladies!” a deep voice roared. “Quiet!”
Broad-shouldered and bull-necked, Fascione still looked more like the West Point linebacker he had been than the clear-eyed strategist who had pacified two die-hard provinces in Iraq. He was taller than anyone else in the room. He also outranked them all.
The noise subsided almost immediately. Fascione turned back toward his intel chief and said, “That’s one hell of a hypothesis, George. If that’s true, we may be facing a possible civil war in North Korea.”
Olsen looked very uncomfortable. He knew he had gone way out on a limb. “Yes, sir, I realize that is the logical conclusion of our analysis.”
“General Olsen,” interrupted Ji. “By your own admission, your order of battle analysis on these withdrawing units is very rough. And you also said the redeployment could be even greater, correct?”
“Yes, sir, that’s an accurate summation,” the J2 agreed slowly.
The ROK Air Force commander smiled thinly. “Then is it not just as possible that we are only looking on the dark side of things, and that the situation is not as grave as your worst-case scenario suggests? Is there any other information that bolsters this… theory… of yours?”
Before Olsen could reply, Rear Admiral Gabriel Waleski, commander of the US Navy units stationed in South Korea, raised his hand. “General Fascione, if I may?”
“Go ahead, Gabe.”
Waleski nodded his thanks and looked around the crowded conference room. “When I arrived at Yongsan Garrison this morning, I was handed an urgent message from one of our submarines patrolling off the North Korean coast, near Wonsan. The commanding officer reports intercepting verbal orders given by a North Korean army officer for his troops to attack their own naval base headquarters. The submarine also observed multiple explosions near the base. It would appear that North Korean military units are, in fact, fighting each other — at least at Wonsan.”
Ji was momentarily surprised by Waleski’s report, but he regained his composure quickly and bowed slightly. “Admiral, I would very much like to read this report. Would it be possible for your government to release it to us?”
Waleski nodded. “Absolutely. I’ve already been given permission by my CNO to share this report with our ROK counterparts. Admiral Ban will have a copy before he leaves.”
Pleased by Waleski’s gracious response, Ji bowed again, silently expressing his thanks.
“Anyone else have any last questions before I give you your running orders?” Fascione asked.
“Yes, sir, I do,” Tracy replied. The Eighth Army commander turned to face the South Korean general who was Fascione’s deputy. “General Park, is there any new information from the defector that our people rescued at Panmunjom?”
Park’s expression remained stoic as most of the assembled officers looked at him with amazement. This was the first they’d heard that someone had actually survived the slaughtered convoy as it attempted to flee the DPRK.
“Unfortunately, General Tracy,” the South Korean said slowly, “the young woman was very badly injured. She had suffered multiple gunshot wounds. Our National Intelligence Service agents only had a few moments with her before she went in for surgery. To my understanding, she is still in the operating room.”
“Did the NIS agents get anything, sir?” Tracy’s voice had a bit of an edge to it.
Park shrugged. “They were only able to obtain her identity, along with the identities of those traveling with her. Her name is Lee Ji-young. She is the daughter of senior politburo member Lee Ye-jun.”
It was the Americans’ turn to be astonished. Fascione and Olsen, however, looked more annoyed.
“That’s not an insignificant detail, General,” Fascione responded tightly. “And one that should have been made known earlier.”
Park shrugged again, apologetically this time. “Forgive me, but at the time the significance wasn’t obvious.” He looked at the Americans. “It is not exactly a rare event when a high-ranking Communist Party official defects.”
“I grant your point, sir,” Tracy countered. “But my chief of the headquarters battalion was the guy who pulled this Lee Ji-young out of that car. And it was only one of seven cars that attempted to run the checkpoint, which is unusual. Colonel Little also specifically reported that woman was lucid when he carried her across the Bridge of No Return. And he stated that she said something like ‘the burning has begun’ before passing out.”
Park’s face hardened. Clearly, he did not appreciate where this conversation was going. “I was unaware of her reported statement, General Tracy. But now that I know of it, I would agree that it supports our J2’s theory.”
“Particularly since Lee Ye-jun was a staunch supporter of the Kim family,” Olsen said flatly.
Fascione abruptly intervened. From the look on his face, the USFK commander was not inclined to see the disagreement descend into bickering.
“Let’s get beyond this, people,” he snapped. “Our two governments are going to be breathing down our necks in the very near future. General Park and I need your best assessments, pronto. Is that clear?”
Heads nodded all around the room.
“Good.” Fascione ticked off what he wanted. “First, is Kim Jong-un still alive? Second, if he’s dead, who the hell is running things in Pyongyang? Or are various contenders for the throne still duking it out? Third, who controls the DPRK’s nuclear, chemical, and biological weapons?”
He turned to Olsen. “George, get with your ROK counterparts and put together a point paper that fleshes out your theory. Don’t give us the Encyclopedia Britannica version. Make it short and sweet, but highlight why you believe it’s likely that a North Korean civil war has started. Then answer those other questions I just rattled off.”
The J2 nodded somberly.
“And I want a draft on my desk in three hours,” Fascione ordered.
There were soft whistles from around the room. In the usual run of things at headquarters, just deciding who should be on the distribution list for a report like this often took longer.
“As of this moment, people, we are on a war footing,” said Fascione bluntly. He eyed them coldly. “And if you think I’m overreacting, I suggest you talk to Lieutenant Colonel Miller’s widow.”
That shut them up.
“The rest of you begin your planning on the working assumption that North Korea is imploding,” Fascione continued. “If so, what options do we have to deal with this mess?”
He looked around the room. “Don’t forget that we may have to worry about a lot more than the pure military side of this. If the DPRK falls apart, we’ll be facing a flood of refugees across the DMZ; in the tens or hundreds of thousands, possibly even in the millions. Where the hell will we put them? And how in God’s name will we feed and care for them?”