Thousands.
There it was, the explanation of why Neil and Ishikawa had not been surprised. They had not somehow found out about Pak’s intention to attack Pyongyang, but they had known that another force was intending to destroy the regime tonight.
Others around the table followed Kai’s gaze, one by one losing interest in Huang’s speech. Even the president looked.
At last Huang dried up.
Chen said: ‘What am I looking at?’
‘North Korea,’ said Kai. ‘The streaks of light are convoys, four of them. Those vehicles are heading for Pyongyang.’
Defence Minister Kong Zhao said: ‘Based on just this photograph, I’d say there are two divisions, each moving in two columns, for a total of about twenty-five thousand troops and several thousand vehicles. The demilitarized zone between North and South Korea is a minefield two to three kilometres in depth, but they’re past that, so they must have swept broad channels through that barrier – an operation planned long ago, I feel sure. At the same time, I’d guess there are airborne forces dropping right now to seize bridgeheads and choke points in advance of the main army, plus beach landings on the coast; we can try to confirm that.’
Chen said: ‘You haven’t said whose troops these are.’
‘I assume they’re South Korean.’
Chen said: ‘So it’s an invasion.’
‘Yes, Mr President,’ said Kong. ‘It’s an invasion.’
*
Kai finally slid into bed beside Ting a little after one o’clock in the morning. She rolled over and put her arms around him and kissed him passionately then immediately went back to sleep.
He closed his eyes and ran over the last few hours. There had been a furious argument in the Situation Room over how they should respond to the South Korean invasion. Kai’s negotiations with Pak had instantly become an irrelevance. A ceasefire was now out of the question.
China’s defence treaty with North Korea left several options open. Kai’s father, Chang Jianjun, and General Huang had proposed a Chinese invasion to protect North Korea from the south. Cooler heads had pointed out that once Chinese troops were there, American troops would swiftly follow, and the Chinese and American armies would meet in battle. To Kai’s great relief this danger was recognized, by the majority around the table, as a price too high to pay.
The Supreme Leader was fatally weakened but Pak and his rebels were strong and were already in the field. With the agreement of the group, Huang personally phoned Pak, told him everything that was known about the invasion, and encouraged him to bomb the approaching South Korean convoys. Radar showed that Pak did so immediately, while continuing his attack on Pyongyang.
The rebels had used few of their missiles so far, and they had plenty; the convoys were halted.
That was a good first step.
Chinese troops would not get involved but, starting at dawn, China was going to give the ultras everything else: missiles, drones, helicopters, jet fighters, artillery, rifles and unlimited ammunition. The ultras already controlled half the country and could probably take over more in the next few hours. However, the key clash would be the battle for Pyongyang.
This seemed the least bad outcome. If the Japanese were reasonable, the war would remain confined to Korea.
President Chen had retired to bed, and most of the others had done the same, leaving behind only those who needed to work out the logistics of sending massive quantities of armaments across the border into North Korea in a short time.
Kai went to sleep feeling that the Chinese government might have done a lot worse.
As soon as he woke up, he called the Guoanbu and spoke to overnight manager Fan Yimu, who told him the good news that the rebels had arrested the Supreme Leader, and General Pak had set up his headquarters in the symbolic Presidential Residence in the north of Pyongyang. However, the South Korean army was a harder nut to crack, and they had resumed their advance on the capital.
The morning news on Chinese television announced that Supreme Leader Kang had resigned due to ill health and had been replaced by General Pak. The Chinese president had sent Pak a message of support, reaffirming China’s commitment to their mutual defence treaty. An incursion by South Korean forces was being energetically repelled by the brave People’s Army of North Korea.
All that was as Kai expected, but the second lead story worried him. It showed angry Japanese nationalists massing in the Tokyo dawn to protest against the bombing. The news reports noted that among Japanese people there was already a certain amount of dislike of Koreans, eagerly fanned by racist propagandists, and only partly countered by the love Japanese youngsters had for Korean movies and pop music. An ethnic Korean teacher had been beaten up by a thug outside a school in Kyoto. The chairman of an extreme right-wing political group was interviewed and, in a hoarse and excited voice, called for all-out war against North Korea.
Prime Minister Ishikawa had ordered a nine o’clock meeting of his Cabinet. The protests would put pressure on the Japanese government to take drastic action, but President Green would be doing her best to restrain Japan. Kai hoped Ishikawa could keep a lid on it.
In the car on the way to the Guoanbu he read army intelligence reports of the progress of the battle of Pyongyang. It seemed the South Korean invaders had moved quickly and were now besieging the capital. He hoped to learn more from General Ham.
In the office he turned on the TV and saw the Japanese prime minister beginning a press conference after his Cabinet meeting. ‘The Pyongyang regime has committed an act of war against Japan, and I have no choice but to order the Japanese Self-Defence Forces to prepare to take action to repel aggression by North Korea.’
This was doublespeak, of course. Article 9 of the Japanese constitution forbade the government to go to war. However, it could exercise its right to self-defence. Anything the Japanese military did had to be framed as defence.
But the announcement was enigmatic for a different reason. Against whom were they now defending themselves? Two rival armies were contending for North Korea, and neither of them was responsible for yesterday’s bombing. The regime that had done that no longer existed.
The head of the Japan desk told Kai what Chinese spies in Tokyo were saying. Japanese and American military bases were bustling with activity but did not seem to be going to war. Japanese jets were conducting surveillance but no bombers were taking off. No destroyers had left harbour and no launchers were being loaded with missiles. Satellite photographs confirmed what the spies said. All was calm.
General Ham called from Pyongyang. ‘The ultras are losing,’ he said.
Kai had feared as much. ‘Why?’
‘The South Koreans are too numerous and too well armed. Our supplies from China haven’t all arrived yet and our tanks are still on their way here from bases in the east. We’re running out of time.’
‘What will Pak do?’
‘Ask Beijing for troops.’
‘We’ll say no. We don’t want to bring the Americans in.’
‘Then we’ll lose Pyongyang to the South Koreans.’
That, too, was unthinkable.
Suddenly Ham said: ‘Got to go,’ and disconnected.
It must be humiliating for Pak to beg Beijing for help, Kai thought. But what else could the rebel leader do? Kai’s thoughts were interrupted and he was called to the conference room. The Japanese government had acted.