Jinshan’s flash of anger sent a chill down Natesh’s spine. “I’m sorry…”
Jinshan recomposed himself, speaking in a softer tone. “There can be no second-guessing now, Natesh. You have committed yourself to this. Soon, my generals will give orders for a military strike the likes of which the world has never seen. After this order is given, much of the globe will be in darkness.”
Lena said, “Mr. Jinshan, perhaps there is a way that Natesh can support us that is less — how shall I say — involved in the kinetic aspect of our plans?”
Jinshan looked at Lena, admiration in his eyes. “What would you propose, Lena?”
“We have an office in Japan. Your logistics supplier is out of there. The one who manages our shipping containers. Natesh’s talents are best put to use in operations management. With his knowledge of our ultimate objectives, he would be quite valuable as an embedded advocate in Japan, would he not?”
Jinshan looked thoughtful. “He could join our Tokyo embassy personnel as soon as the war begins. To ensure his safety.”
Natesh was looking between Lena and Jinshan, not sure if this was a good thing or not.
Finally, Jinshan said, “Go to Japan. Do our work where no one will be looking for you. We will get you a special military assistant. They will make sure that anything you need is done. I want you to continue to improve our logistics. The container ships must begin their journey across the Pacific soon. Convoys will need to start as soon as the EMPs detonate.”
“Yes, Mr. Jinshan.” His voice sounded shell-shocked.
“Now go. Both of you have a lot of work to do.”
Jinshan’s first order of business was to solidify alliances. To reassure worried leaders that he would look out for them. He would meet the Russians again in Beijing. Their proxies could be trusted. But North Korea was another matter. There was only one decision maker there. And while Jinshan preferred not to step foot in the Hermit Nation, it was a necessary evil. Flattery went a long way with that one.
The jet landed in Pyongyang at night. Thankfully, he was met at the airport. As requested, the North Koreans did not have any sort of welcome party waiting. Only a seven-vehicle column of military jeeps and the Great Leader’s personal limousines. Jinshan knew that one of the two limousines carried a body double, a man whose sole job it was to walk around and test the air for an assassin’s bullet. He smiled at that. What a life.
The door to the second limousine opened up, and Jinshan was asked to walk over. He bristled at that, but obliged. Two of his bodyguards and a translator followed. They were searched, and then Jinshan and his translator sat inside the vehicle. Across the cabin sat the North Korean leader.
The conversation was interrupted every few seconds with rapid translations.
“So you’ve done it, Mr. Jinshan. Or shall I say President Jinshan. I congratulate you.”
“Yes, I have. And thank you.”
“And now you are here to make sure that I stick to our agreement?”
Throughout his career, Jinshan had conducted many a business meeting with high-level foreign executives, often using translators. It had always amused him when he watched the other executives carefully crafting their questions and answers in their native tongue, only to have those carefully chosen words butchered in the translation. Better to keep it simple.
“Yes. I have come to make sure that you are still committed to our arrangement.”
“When do you intend for the first shots to be fired?”
Jinshan said, “That will come soon. But I would ask that you help me with something else first. A preliminary demonstration of power. Similar to what you are already doing.”
The North Korean leader looked surprised. He leaned forward, his double chin becoming more pronounced. He nodded vigorously, a look of intrigue appearing on his face.
One of the North Korean generals — looking tiny in his oversized uniform — misdiagnosed the Great Leader’s facial expression. One could never go wrong sticking up for the Great Leader, so the general began raising his voice in a high-pitched protest, directed at Jinshan. The North Korean leader looked at him, annoyed, and yelled for the general to shut up. While the scene was amusing, if not insulting, Jinshan remained quiet. One always found oneself walking on pins and needles in the Hermit Nation.
“Could you provide me with the details?”
“Of course. I propose that I leave a team of ballistic missile specialists here to help your men with the technical setup. Is that acceptable to you?”
“This will be acceptable.” China had been providing materials and expertise to the North Korean missile program for decades.
“Excellent. With regard to South Korea, you should expect further word on timing within a few weeks.”
“You will provide me with a target list?”
Jinshan shook his head. “I am sure that you already have military plans for such an attack on the South. I ask only that you execute the plans you already have. We will do the rest.”
The large round-faced man nodded, a proud look displayed for his generals. “I will lay waste to the South. It will be turned to ash.”
Jinshan could see through the act. But he wouldn’t dare to challenge the young man. If an unstable man was doing what you wanted him to do, it was best not to introduce any new variables into his calculations.
“And after the war is won? Our terms remain the same?”
“Yes. You will have Korea. All of it.”
15
Tetsuo watched the woman at the other end of the bar. She was all dolled up. Carefully plucked eyebrows, lots of makeup, and full breasts pressed together by her tight-fitting black shirt, a hint of a bright purple bra showing underneath. High-heeled leather boots. She looked like she had a mix of Japanese and Caucasian blood, if he were to guess.
She laughed a little too loud and placed her hand on the shoulder of the white man next to her. There were a group of them, obviously American service members by their haircuts and loud mannerisms. Each of them stole glances at her bosom as they drank, just happy to be off base. If they only knew who she worked for.
This part of town was filled with bars that catered to the Americans. It could get rowdy, especially in the evenings and on weekends. Curfews were an on-again, off-again affair, the base commanders reacting to the latest incidents. But women like her would always be around, regardless of the military rear echelon’s attempt to instill good behavior among the troops during their off-duty time. Hers was the oldest profession, after all.
But it wasn’t her only profession.
Tetsuo’s team had been watching her for a few weeks now. The orders to take her had come twelve hours ago. The CIA was getting desperate for information. No one knew what the hell was going on in China, and they needed leads.
He had been advised to approach her with extreme caution. His team had two vans outside around the corner. There wasn’t any place to park on the street outside. A female CIA operative sat across from him, pretending to keep up conversation.
They heard another loud burst of laughter from the group of service members, and the woman and one of the men began walking out the door, her arm intertwined in his, with her free hand resting on his broad shoulder. She glanced back at the other men, giving them a wink as if to say, Maybe you’ll be my customer next time, boys.
“You stay. Follow me after you pay,” Tetsuo said to his colleague. Then Tetsuo whispered into his wrist microphone, “She’s on the move with the tall white guy on her right side. They’re walking out the front door now.” He put his leather jacket on and walked out of the bar, about ten seconds behind them.
The whore and her mark walked up the road for a few minutes and then veered off into a massage parlor with pictures of attractive women plastered on the outer window. The man dug out his wallet and paid at the front door, then the two disappeared inside. Poor stupid kid. Tetsuo hung back, watching.