Page 212 of Never
‘That settles it,’ said Pauline. ‘This is retaliation. The Supreme Leader is punishing the naval base that destroyed his submarine. You’d think he had enough to do combating the rebels in his own country.’
Gus said: ‘He’s failed to crush the rebellion, which makes him seem weak, and the sinking of the submarine makes it worse. He’s desperate for something that makes him look tough.’
Luis said: ‘We’ve accessed video from the base. It’s not public, they must have hacked it.’ A picture came up on a wall screen, and Luis said: ‘It’s closed-circuit television security-surveillance footage.’
They saw a large harbour enclosed by a man-made sea wall. Within the wall were a destroyer, five frigates and one submarine. The picture changed, presumably to a different CCTV camera, and now they saw sailors on the deck of a ship. Someone in a back room was looking at multiple feeds and selecting the most informative ones, for the shot changed again, and they saw roads around low office and apartment buildings. This picture also showed frenetic activity: men running, cars driving fast, officers shouting into phones.
Luis said: ‘The anti-missile battery has fired.’
Pauline said: ‘How many missiles?’
‘The launcher fires eight at a time. Wait…’ There was a pause, and Luis said: ‘One of the eight crashed seconds after firing. The other seven are in flight.’
After a minute, seven new arcs appeared on the radar graphic, on an intercept course with the incoming missiles.
‘Thirty seconds to contact,’ said Luis.
The arcs on the screen moved closer.
Pauline said: ‘If the missiles explode over a populated area…’
Luis said: ‘The anti-missile missile has no warhead. It destroys the incoming ordnance just by crashing into it. But the incoming warhead might explode when it hits the ground.’ He paused. ‘Ten seconds.’
The room was silent. Everyone stared at the graphic. The dots came together.
‘Contact,’ said Luis.
The graphic froze.
‘The sky is full of debris,’ said Luis. ‘The radar is unclear. We have hits, but we don’t know how many.’
Pauline said: ‘Shouldn’t we have got them all – with seven interceptors to destroy only four incoming?’
‘Yes,’ said Luis. ‘But missiles are never perfect. Here we go… Shit, only two hits. There are still two missiles heading for Jeju.’
Chess said: ‘For Christ’s sake, why didn’t the battery fire everything they’ve got?’
Pauline replied: ‘Then what would they do if the North Koreans sent over another six?’
Chess had another question. ‘What happened to the five anti-missile missiles that didn’t hit their targets? Can they try again?’
‘At that speed they can’t turn around. Eventually, they’ll slow down and fall out of the sky, hopefully into the sea.’
Luis said: ‘Thirty seconds.’
Everyone watched the TV pictures of the naval base that was the target.
The people there would probably not see the missiles, which must be moving too fast for the human eye, Pauline thought. But they clearly knew they were under attack: everyone was running, some in a brisk, purposeful way, others in a blind panic.
‘Ten seconds,’ said Luis.
Pauline wished she could look away. She did not want to watch people die. But she knew she must not flinch. She had to be able to say that she saw what happened.
She was looking at a row of low buildings when the screen showed several flashes, five or six all at the same time. She just had time to realize that the missiles must have multiple warheads, before a wall collapsed, a desk and a man flew through the air, a truck crashed into a parked car, and then the scene was engulfed in thick grey smoke.
The picture switched to the harbour and she saw that the other missile had sprayed its bomblets over the ships. This was luck, she guessed: ballistic missiles were not so accurate. She saw flames and smoke and twisted metal and a sailor jumping into the water.
Then the screen went blank.
