‘I’m not sure. Have you heard the news?’
‘What news? I’ve been learning lines.’
‘Turn on the TV.’
‘Just a minute.’ There was a pause, then she said: ‘Oh, my God! North Korea bombed Japan!’
‘Now you know why I’m working late.’
‘Of course, of course. But when you’ve finished saving China, I’ll be keeping the bed warm.’
‘The greatest reward.’
They said goodbye and hung up.
Kai’s car reached Zhongnanhai, went through security, and parked at Qinzheng Hall. Kai pulled his overcoat closer around him as he walked to the entrance. Beijing was colder than Yeongjeo-dong today.
He went through building security then ran down the stairs to the basement Situation Room. As before, the large space around the stage was occupied by desks with workstations. The place was more heavily staffed than last time, now on a full war footing. It was hushed, but there was a faint background sound like the murmur of distant traffic. It was not possible that traffic noise could penetrate here, and Kai decided he must be hearing the ventilation system. The air smelled faintly of disinfectant, like a hospital, and Kai guessed that it was rigorously purified, for the room was designed to operate when the city above was infected or poisoned or even radioactive.
Everyone was listening in dead silence to both sides of a phone conversation. One voice belonged to that of President Chen. Another was speaking a language Kai identified as Japanese and a third was an interpreter, who said: ‘I am glad to have this opportunity to talk to the president of the People’s Republic of China.’ It sounded insincere even at second hand.
Chen said: ‘Mr Prime Minister, I assure you that the missile attack against Japanese territory perpetrated by the Pyongyang government was carried out without the consent or approval of the government of China.’
Clearly Chen was talking to Eiko Ishikawa, the prime minister of Japan. Chen, like Kai, was hoping to forestall an extreme Japanese reaction to the missile attack. China was still trying to prevent war. Good.
While Chen’s statement was being translated into Japanese, Kai tiptoed to the stage, bowed to the president, and sat at the table.
A reply came back from Tokyo: ‘I am most relieved to hear that.’
Chen made the key point quickly. ‘If you wait a few hours you will realize that this assault, grievous though it is, does not merit any reprisal by you.’
‘What makes you say that?’
Something about that sentence rang a bell with Kai, but he postponed thinking about it and concentrated on listening.
Chen said: ‘The regime of the Supreme Leader will come to an end within the next twenty-four hours.’
‘What will take its place?’
‘Will you forgive me if I don’t go into all the details? I only want to assure you that the persons responsible for what has happened in Japan today will be removed from power immediately and brought to justice.’
‘I understand.’
The conversation went on in the same vein, Chen being reassuring and Ishikawa being non-committal, until they hung up.
Kai thought again about the sentence What makes you say that? Neil had used the same words. It was evasive, a way of not responding, a sign that the speaker was being guarded, usually because he had something to hide. Both Neil and Ishikawa had expressed little surprise on learning that the Pyongyang regime was about to be overthrown. It was almost as if they already knew that Pyongyang was doomed. But how was that possible? Pak himself had not made his decision until a few hours ago.
Both the CIA and the government of Japan knew something that Kai did not know. That was very bad for an intelligence chief. What could it be?
A possibility occurred to Kai, one that was so surprising that he could hardly formulate it.
General Huang was speaking but Kai was not listening. He stood up and moved away – an act of discourtesy to Huang that caused eyebrows to be raised around the table – and stepped down from the stage. He called his office and spoke to Jin. ‘Look at the latest satellite pictures over North Korea,’ he said, speaking in a low voice as he walked away from the stage. ‘The skies should be clear; they were a few hours ago when I was there. I want to see from Pyongyang south across the border to Seoul just the other side. What I’m really interested in is what lies between the two cities, the road they call the Reunification Highway. When you’ve got a good picture, put it up on a screen here in the Situation Room. Make sure it’s aligned with north at the top.’