Chen told everyone to sit and called on Jianjun for an update. Jianjun reported that North Korean anti-missile defences had not worked well, partly because of an American cyberattack on their launchers, and it was likely the assault would achieve exactly what President Green intended, namely the complete destruction of the Pyongyang regime. ‘I need hardly remind comrades,’ he said, ‘that the 1961 treaty between China and North Korea obliges us to come to the aid of North Korea when it is attacked.’
President Chen added: ‘It is of course the only defence treaty that China has with any nation. If we do not honour it, we will be humbled before the world.’
Fu Chuyu, Kai’s boss, summarized the intelligence from Kai’s division. Kai then trumped him by adding what he had learned from Neil Davidson in the last few minutes: that the Americans were not planning to take control of the North Korean government.
Fu rewarded Kai with a glare of hatred.
General Huang said: ‘Let us imagine a situation that mirrors this. Suppose that Mexico had attacked Cuba with chemical weapons, killing hundreds of Russian advisors; and in response the Russians launched a massive air attack designed to wipe out the Mexican government and military. Would the Americans defend Mexico? Is there even the shadow of a doubt? Of course they would!’
Kong Zhao said simply: ‘But how?’
Huang was taken aback. ‘What do you mean, how?’
‘Would they bomb Moscow?’
‘They would consider their options.’
‘Exactly. In the situation you have imagined, comrade, the Americans would face the same dilemma we have now. Should you start World War Three because of an attack on a second-rank neighbouring country?’
Huang let his frustration show. ‘Every time it is suggested that the government of China should take firm action, someone says it might start World War Three.’
‘Because the danger is always there.’
‘We can’t let that paralyse us.’
‘But we can’t ignore it either.’
President Chen intervened. ‘You are both right, of course,’ he said. ‘What I need from you today is a plan to deal with the American attack on North Korea without escalating the crisis to a higher level.’
Kai said: ‘If I may, Mr President –’
‘Go ahead.’
‘We must confront the fact that North Korea today has not one government but two.’
Huang bristled at the idea of treating the rebels as if they were a government, but Chen nodded.
Kai went on: ‘The Supreme Leader, nominally our ally, is no longer co-operating with us and has created a crisis we didn’t seek. The rebels control half the country and all the nuclear weapons. We must consider what relationship we want with the ultras in Yeongjeo-dong who have become – whether we like it or not – the alternative government.’
Huang was indignant. ‘Rebellion against the Communist Party must never be seen to succeed,’ he said. ‘And, in any case, how could we talk to these people? We don’t know who their leaders are or how to get in touch with them.’
Kai said: ‘I know who they are and I can contact them.’
‘How is that possible?’
Kai deliberately looked around the room at the aides in attendance. ‘General, you are of course entitled to receive information of the highest secrecy, but forgive me if I hesitate to name highly sensitive sources of information.’
Huang realized he was in the wrong and backed down. ‘Yes, yes, forget I asked that question.’
President Chen said: ‘All right, so we can talk to the ultras. Next question: What do we want to say?’
Kai had a very clear idea, but he did not want this meeting to set an agenda that would tie him down, so he said: ‘The discussion would have to be exploratory.’
But Wu Bai was shrewd enough to know what Kai was up to, and did not want to give him a free hand. ‘We can do better than that,’ he said. ‘We know what we want: a complete and unconditional end to hostilities. And we can guess what the ultras want: some large part in any new government of North Korea.’
Kai said: ‘And my task will be to find out exactly what they will demand in exchange for ending their rebellion.’ But he already knew he was going to go farther than just finding out.
Huang repeated his previous objection. ‘We should not empower people who have defied the Party.’
‘Thank you for pointing that out, general,’ said Wu. He turned to the rest of the group. ‘I believe Comrade Huang’s statement is completely correct.’ Huang looked mollified, but Wu did not really agree with him at all. ‘We cannot assume these ultras are trustworthy,’ Wu went on, making a different point. ‘No agreement with them is possible without clear safeguards.’
Huang, oblivious to the subtleties, nodded in vigorous agreement. Wu’s charm, denigrated as superficial by hardliners, was actually a deadly tactic, Kai reflected. Wu had neutralized Huang, and Huang had not noticed.
Chen said: ‘This is a good plan but not a quick fix. What can we do today, now, to cool the situation?’
Kong Zhao had a suggestion. ‘Call for a ceasefire by both sides, and at the same time pressure Pyongyang to cease fire unilaterally.’
Chen said: ‘Do they even have any missiles left?’
Kai answered. ‘A handful, hidden under bridges and in tunnels.’
Chen nodded thoughtfully. ‘All the same, they will think that a unilateral ceasefire is not much different from an admission of defeat.’
Kong Zhao said: ‘We could give it a try.’
‘I agree. Now, how should we word our demand?’
Kai tuned out. This would be a long discussion. The important business of the meeting was done, but now everyone would contribute something of minor significance. He controlled his impatience with an effort, and began to plan his meeting with the ultras.
He had to communicate with the rebel leader, not with General Ham. He composed a message on his phone:
For the attention of General Pak Jae-jin
SECRET
A very senior emissary of the People’s Republic of China wishes to visit you today. He will be alone except for the helicopter pilot, and both men will be unarmed. His mission is of the utmost importance to Korea and China.
Please acknowledge receipt of this message and indicate your willingness to meet with this representative.
From the Ministry of State Security
He sent the message to Jin Chin-hwa with instructions to forward it to any and every Internet address he could find for the military base at Yeongjeo-dong. He would have preferred to use a single, secure address, but urgency trumped security.
As soon as the meeting ended he buttonholed his father. ‘I need an air-force jet to take me to Yanji,’ he said. ‘And then a helicopter to fly me from there to Yeongjeo-dong.’
‘I’ll arrange it,’ said Jianjun. ‘When?’
Kai looked at his watch. It was ten o’clock. ‘Eleven o’clock departure from Beijing, two o’clock transfer at Yanji, three o’clock touchdown at Yeongjeo-dong, approximately.’
‘Okay.’
It was a relief to be in accord with his father for once, Kai thought. He said: ‘I’ve told the ultras that I’ll be unaccompanied except for the pilot, and we’ll both be unarmed. No guns aboard the chopper, please.’
‘Good thinking. Once you’re in rebel territory you’ll always be outnumbered. The only way to stay alive is not to fight.’
‘That’s what I thought.’
‘Consider it done.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Good luck, my son.’
*
It was a clear, cloudless day in North Korea. Flying low over the eastern zone in a helicopter of the Chinese air force, Kai looked down at a landscape lit by winter sunshine. He had the impression of a country operating normally. There were workers in the fields and trucks on the roads.
It was not like China, of course: traffic in towns was not gridlocked, there was less of the pink haze of pollution, and the apartment towers that sprouted like weeds on the outskirts of Chinese towns were rare here. North Korea was poorer and less crowded.
He saw no signs of war: no collapsed buildings or burned fields or torn-up railway tracks. The initial rebellion had involved skirmishing around the military bases, and then the new rulers of this zone had stayed out of the international conflict. The people probably loved them for that alone. Were these ultras smart? Or just lucky? He would know soon.