While he was on the way there in the usual heavy Beijing traffic – and the American missiles were still in the air on their thousand-mile flight from Japan to North Korea – Neil Davidson called.
The Texan drawl was not as laid-back as usual; in fact, Neil sounded almost tense. ‘Kai, before anyone does anything in a hurry, we want to be real clear with you all: the US has no intention of invading North Korea.’
Kai said: ‘So you think you can deal with the present situation with measures short of an invasion, but you’re not completely ruling out that possibility.’
‘That’s about the size of it.’
Kai was greatly relieved, because that meant there was a chance of containing the crisis even now; but he kept the thought to himself. It was never smart to make things too easy for the other side. He said: ‘But Neil, the USS Morgan has already violated North Korean borders by approaching the mouth of the Taedong River to sink a ship of the North Korean navy with a cruise missile. Are you telling me that’s not an invasion?’
There was a silence, and Kai guessed that Neil had not known about the Morgan. But he recovered from the surprise and said: ‘Naval bombardment is not ruled out. But please take it from me that we do not intend to put American troops on the ground in North Korea.’
‘It’s a hair-splitting distinction,’ Kai said, but, in fact, he was not displeased. If that was where the Americans wanted to draw the line between assault and invasion, the Chinese government might accept it, at least unofficially.
Neil said: ‘As we speak, our Secretary of State is calling your ambassador in Washington to say the same thing. Our quarrel is with the people who dropped those chemical bombs, not with the folks in Beijing.’
Kai put a note of scepticism in his voice. ‘Are you trying to say that your attack is a proportionate response?’
‘That’s exactly what I’m saying, and we think the rest of the world will see it that way.’
‘I don’t think the Chinese government will take such a lenient view.’
‘So long as they understand that our intentions are strictly limited. We have no wish to take over the government of North Korea.’
That was important, if true. ‘I’ll pass the message on.’ Kai’s phone was showing a call waiting. That was probably his office to tell him the first missiles had hit. But he needed something more from Neil. ‘We noticed that President Green did not say she was attacking North Korea, but repeatedly referred to the Pyongyang regime. Does that mean you’re not bombing rebel military bases?’
‘The president will not attack people who have never harmed Americans.’
That was a reassurance wrapped around a threat. The rebels were safe only as long as they stayed neutral. They would become targets if they attacked Americans. ‘Clear enough,’ said Kai. ‘I have another call. Stay in touch.’ Without waiting for a reply, he broke the contact and picked up the waiting call.
It was Jin Chin-hwa. ‘The first missiles have struck North Korea,’ he said.
‘Where?’
‘Several places simultaneously: Chunghwa, headquarters of the North Korean air force outside of Pyongyang; the naval base at Haeju; a Kang family residence—’
Kai had been picturing a map of North Korea in his head, and now he interrupted Jin to say, ‘All targets in the west of the country, away from the rebel zone.’
‘Yes.’
That confirmed what Neil had said.
Kai’s car was passing through the usual elaborate security at the Gate of the New China. He said: ‘Thank you, Jin,’ and hung up.
Monk parked in a row of limousines outside the Hall of Cherished Compassion, the building where the important political committees met. In common with most buildings within the Zhongnanhai compound, it was designed in traditional style, with curved roof lines. It had a massive auditorium for ceremonial meetings, but the Foreign Affairs Commission met in a conference room.
Kai got out and inhaled the fresh breeze coming across the lake. This was one of the few places in Beijing where the air was not noxious. He took a few seconds to breathe deeply and oxygenate his bloodstream. Then he went inside.
President Chen was already there. To Kai’s surprise he wore a suit with no tie and he had not shaved. Kai had never before seen him look scruffy: he must have been up half the night. He was deep in conversation with Kai’s father, Chang Jianjun. Of the hawks, Huang Ling and Fu Chuyu were present, and Kong Zhao represented the doves. The uncommitted middle-of-the-roaders were represented by Foreign Minister Wu Bai and President Chen himself. All looked intensely worried.