Op-Center

CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN

Hood was in his office with Ann Farris and Lowell Coffey, debating about how to handle news of the Striker incursion in case the team was captured or killed. The White House would disavow the operation, as the President had said, and SOP was that Op-Center would do the same. But Ann felt there were some PR brownie points to be gained by letting the world know that they had been looking out for the well-being of Japan, and while Hood agreed she had a point, he was disinclined to go along with the idea.

When Bugs told Hood that General Schneider was calling with urgent news from Panmunjom, the debate came to a swift end.

"Hood here."

"Mr. Director," General Schneider said, "I regret to inform you that your man Gregory Donald appears to have been shot to death by the Dee-Perks on their side of the border just a few minutes ago."

Hood's face paled. "General, they invited him to come over—"

"This wasn't that meeting. He wasn't in the meeting center."

"Then where was he?"

"He was running toward the barracks with a knife."

"Gregory was? Are you sure?"

"That's what the watch officer's putting in his report. And that he was screaming in Korean about the poison gas."

"Sweet Jesus." Hood shut his eyes. "That's what it was. Gregory, Jesus… why didn't he let the military handle it?"

"Paul," Ann said, "what happened?"

"Gregory Donald's dead. He was trying to stop the gas." He returned to Schneider. "General, Major Lee must have snuck the gas into the North— Gregory was probably following him."

"That's what we figure, but it was a damn foolish thing to do. He had to know those troops would shoot on sight."

It wasn't foolish, Hood knew. It was Donald's way. "What's the present situation?"

"Our lookouts say the soldiers appear to have shot someone who may have been trying to flood the barracks with the tabun. As I just told Secretary Colon, they're running around like headless chickens over there. One of our towers is watching General Hong-koo. He's just sitting at their side of the conference hut in a jeep… waiting for we don't know what. He's got to know Donald isn't coming."

"He might not know that it was Donald who was killed."

The words sounded so wrong. Hood looked at Ann for support, saw only the same sadness that he felt.

"He'll find out soon enough. Our problem is this. The Pentagon has contacted Pyongyang and they don't believe that Lee and his team were acting alone; they think it's part of a plot hatched in Seoul. You can't reason with those pricks."

"What are we doing in response?"

"Matching them. General Norbom is shipping us just about everyone and everything he's got, direct orders from the President himself. Somebody sneezes up here and we're going to have ourselves a shooting war."

General Schneider excused himself then, leaving Hood sick and angry when he got off the phone. He felt like they'd been through a full season of winning football only to lose the championship on the last play of the last game. At this point, the only thing worse would be if Mike Rodgers and the Striker team did something that actually precipitated the final conflict. He thought briefly about recalling them, but knew that Rodgers wouldn't do anything rash. And there was still the fact that the missiles were pointed toward Japan. If Japan was hit, then war or no war the cry for remilitarization there would be unstoppable. That would cause China and both Koreas to build up their own military forces, creating an arms race that would rival the Cold War of the 1960s.

After bringing Ann and Coffey up-to-date, Hood asked them to brief the rest of Op-Center's department heads. When they were gone, he put his forehead in his hands- And it hit him. Pyongyang's not going to believe anyone from the South about this, but what about someone from the North?

He buzzed his assistant.

"Bugs, Kim Hwan is at National University Hospital in Seoul. If he's out of surgery and awake, I want to talk to him."

"Yes, sir. Secure line?"

"There's no time to wait for one to be brought in. And, Bugs? Don't let any of the doctors or KCIA guys get in your way. Go through Director Yung-Hoon if you have to."

As he waited for Bugs, Hood rang Herbert.

"Bob— I want you to arrange for a broadcast to that frequency from Yanguu."

"To it," Herbert repeated.

"That's right. We're going to try to set up a game of telephone that may stop a war."