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‘How many Americans killed?’
‘There’s no count yet, but it’s going to be in the hundreds, including some of our troops’ family members.’
‘Is it ongoing?’
‘The missile attack is over, but the poisons continue to claim new victims.’
There was a bubble of rage in Pauline’s throat, and she wanted to scream. She forced herself to be unemotional. She thought for a minute, then said: ‘Gus, this obviously requires a major response by the United States, but I’m not going to rush that decision. This is the biggest crisis since 9/11.’
‘It’s dark now in the Far East and there may be no further action overnight. Which gives us a day to plan.’
‘But we’ll start early. Get everyone into the Situation Room, at, say, eight thirty.’
‘You got it.’
They hung up, and she sat on the bed, thinking. Chemical and biological weapons were inhuman and against international law. They were unspeakably cruel. And they had been used to kill Americans. The war in Korea was no longer a local squabble. The world would be waiting for the American response to the outrage. Which meant her response.
She dressed carefully in a sombre dark-grey skirted suit and an off-white blouse, reflecting her solemn mood.
By the time she got to the Oval Office, the breakfast news shows were gathering reactions. People did not need a rabble-rousing politician to get them worked up about this. Pauline’s fury was shared all over the US. Commuters interviewed at metro stations were enraged. Any attack on Americans angered them; this one made them incandescent.
North Korea did not have an embassy in the US, but it had a Permanent Mission at the United Nations, with a one-room office at the Diplomat Center on 2nd Avenue in New York City; and an angry crowd gathered on the street outside the building, shouting up at the windows on the thirteenth floor.
In Columbus, Georgia, a Korean-American couple were shot and killed in their convenience store by a young white man. No money was stolen, though he took a carton of Marlboro Light cigarettes.
Pauline read her overnight briefings and phoned half a dozen key people, including Secretary of State Chester Jackson, just arrived back from his wasted trip to Sri Lanka and the peace conference that never happened.
Pippa called from the horse ranch, upset. She said: ‘Why would they do this, Mom? Are they monsters?’
‘They’re not monsters, but they’re desperate men, which is almost as bad,’ Pauline said. ‘The man who runs North Korea has his back to the wall. He’s under attack from rebels in his own country, from his neighbours to the south, and from the US. He thinks he’s going to lose the war, his power, and probably his life too. He’ll do anything.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘I don’t know yet, but when Americans are attacked like this I have to do something. Like everyone else, I want to hit back. But I also have to make sure this doesn’t turn into a war between us and China. That would be ten times worse, a hundred times worse, than what’s happened in Seoul.’
In a frustrated tone Pippa said: ‘Why is everything so complicated?’
Aha, Pauline thought, you’re growing up. She said: ‘The easy problems get solved right away, so only the hard ones are left. That’s why you should never believe a politician with simple answers.’
‘I guess.’
Pauline wondered whether to order Pippa to return to the White House a day early, but decided that she was marginally safer in Virginia. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, honey,’ she said as casually as she could.
‘Okay.’
Pauline ate an omelette at her desk and drank a cup of coffee then went to the Situation Room.
There was tension in the air like static electricity. Was that something you could smell? She noted an aroma of furniture polish from the gleaming table, the body heat of the thirty or so men and women around her, and a sweet perfume from an aide somewhere nearby; and there was something else, too. The smell of fear, she thought.
She was briskly practical. ‘First things first,’ she said. She nodded to General Schneider, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, who was in uniform. ‘Bill, what do we know about American casualties?’
‘We have four hundred and twenty confirmed American military dead and one thousand one hundred and ninety-one injured – and counting.’ His voice was a parade-ground bark, and Pauline guessed he was suppressing emotion. ‘The attack ended about three hours ago and I’m afraid we haven’t yet located them all. The final total will be higher.’ He swallowed. ‘Madam President, many brave Americans sacrificed their lives or their health for the sake of their country today in South Korea.’
‘And we all give thanks for their courage and loyalty, Bill.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘What about civilian casualties? We had a hundred thousand non-military American citizens living in South Korea a few days ago. How many did we evacuate?’
