‘Ask me.’
‘What do you want? I mean right here, right now. What do you want us to do?’
‘Everything,’ she said. ‘Everything.’
CHAPTER 28
Late on Tuesday afternoon Chang Kai was alarmed by a breaking story on CCTV-13, the all-news channel on Chinese television.
He was in his office at the Guoanbu when his young Korea specialist, Jin Chin-hwa, came in and suggested he turn on the set. Kai saw the Supreme Leader of North Korea, resplendent in some kind of military uniform, standing in front of jet fighter planes at an air base but obviously reading from an autocue. Kai was surprised: it was unusual for Supreme Leader Kang U-jung to speak live on TV. This must be serious, he thought.
North Korea had worried him for years. The government was volatile and unpredictable, which was dangerous in a strategically important ally. China did what it could to steady the regime, but it seemed always to be on the edge of some crisis. North Korea had been quiet for two and a half weeks, since the revolt by the ultra-nationalists, and Kai had been optimistic that the rebellion might fizzle out.
But the Supreme Leader was nothing if not vengeful. Although he had a round face and smiled a lot, he was part of a dynasty that ruled by terror. It would not be enough for him merely to see the insurrection fade away. Everyone had to see him crush it. He needed to terrify anyone else with such ideas.
CCTV-13 added Mandarin subtitles to the Korean soundtrack. Kang said:
The courageous and loyal troops of the Korean People’s Army have combated an insurrection organized by the South Korean authorities in cahoots with the United States. The murderous attacks of the American-inspired traitors have been crushed and the perpetrators are under arrest and facing justice. Meanwhile, mopping-up operations are in progress as the situation returns to normal.
Kai muted the sound. The accusation against the United States was routine propaganda, he knew. Like the Chinese, the Americans valued stability and hated unpredictable turmoil, even in the countries of their enemies. It was the rest of the statement that bothered him.
He looked at Jin, who was drop-dead cool today in a black suit with a skinny tie. ‘It’s not true, is it?’
‘Almost certainly not.’
Jin was a Chinese citizen of Korean ethnicity. Foolish people thought that the loyalties of such men were suspect and they should not be allowed to work for the secret service. Kai believed the opposite. The descendants of immigrants often had exaggerated affection for their country of adoption, and sometimes even felt they had no right to disagree with the authorities. They were usually more passionately loyal than the majority of Han Chinese, and the strict vetting system of the Guoanbu quickly weeded out any exceptions. Jin had said to Kai that China allowed him to be himself, a feeling that was not shared by every Chinese citizen.
Jin said: ‘If it was true that the rebellion was over, Kang would be pretending it had never happened. The fact that he’s saying it’s over suggests to me that it’s not. This may be an attempt to cover up their failure to suppress it.’
‘That’s what I thought.’
Kai nodded thanks, and Jin left.
He was still pondering the news when his personal phone rang. He answered: ‘This is Kai.’
‘This is me.’
Kai recognized the voice of General Ham Ha-sun, who had to be phoning from North Korea. Kai said: ‘I’m glad you called.’ He meant it. Ham would know the facts about the rebellion.
Ham got straight to the point. ‘Pyongyang’s announcement is shit.’
‘They haven’t crushed the insurrection?’
‘The reverse. The ultras have consolidated their position and now they control the entire north-east of the country, including three ballistic missile facilities as well as the nuclear base.’
‘So the Supreme Leader lied.’ As Kai and Jin had guessed.
‘This is no longer an uprising,’ Ham said. ‘It’s a civil war, and no one can predict who will win.’
That was worse than Kai had thought. North Korea was boiling up again. ‘This is a very important steer,’ he said. ‘Thank you.’
Kai intended to bring the conversation to a close then, knowing that every second added to the danger Ham was in. But the general had not finished. He had an agenda of his own. He said: ‘You know that I remain where I am for your sake.’
Kai was not sure that was entirely true, but he did not want to argue. ‘Yes,’ he said.
‘When this is over you have to get me out.’
‘I’ll do my best—’
‘Forget about doing your best. I need your promise. If the regime wins, they will execute me for being a senior officer on the wrong side. And if the rebels ever suspect that I talk to you they will shoot me like a dog.’
It was true, Kai knew.
‘I promise,’ he said.
‘You may have to send a Special Forces team across the border in helicopters to get me out.’
Kai might struggle to make that happen for the sake of one spy whose usefulness was at an end, but this was no time to confess to doubts. ‘If that’s what it takes, we’ll do it,’ he said, with all the sincerity he could fake.
‘I think you owe me that.’
‘I certainly do.’ Kai meant it, and hoped he would be able to pay his debt.
‘Thank you.’ Ham hung up.
The implication Kai and Jin had drawn from the speech of the Supreme Leader had been confirmed by the most trustworthy spy Kai had ever had. He had to share the news.
He had been looking forward to a quiet evening at home with Ting. They both worked hard and at the end of the day, neither of them wanted to dress up and go to fashionable places where they would see and be seen. Quiet evenings were their delight. In their neighbourhood a new place had opened called Trattoria Reggio. Kai had been looking forward to some penne all’arrabbiata. But duty called.
He would tell the vice-chairman of the National Security Commission, who was his father, Chang Jianjun.
There was no answer from Jianjun’s personal phone, but he would probably be at home by now. Kai dialled the number and his mother answered. Kai spent a few moments patiently answering her questions: he was not getting sinus headaches and had not suffered them for some years now; Ting had had her annual vaccination for influenza and had suffered no side effects from the jab; Ting’s mother was very well for her age, and not suffering any more than usual from her old leg injury; and, finally, he did not know what was going to happen next on Love in the Palace. Then he asked for his father.
She said: ‘He’s gone to the Enjoy Hot restaurant to eat pigs’ feet with his comrades and he’ll come home stinking of garlic.’
‘Thank you,’ said Kai. ‘I’ll catch him there.’
He could have phoned the restaurant, but the old man might resent being called to the phone during a dinner with old companions. However, the place was not far from Guoanbu headquarters, so Kai decided to go there. It was always better to talk to his father in person rather than on the phone, anyway. He told Peng Yawen to notify Monk.
Before leaving, he told Jin what he had learned from General Ham. ‘Now I’m going to brief Chang Jianjun,’ he said. ‘Call me if anything happens.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Enjoy Hot was a large restaurant with several private rooms. In one of them Kai found his father dining with General Huang Ling and Kai’s boss, Fu Chuyu, the Minister for State Security. The room was full of the steamy odours of chilli, garlic and ginger. All three men were members of the National Security Commission; they formed a powerful conservative group. They looked sober and serious, and seemed irritated to be disturbed. Perhaps this was more than a convivial get-together. Kai would have liked to know what they had been discussing that required privacy from other diners.
Kai said: ‘Some news from North Korea that won’t wait until the morning.’