Bill said: ‘Radar confirms that there is just one missile.’
‘Any video?’
One of the screens lit up with film of the city from a distance. By the way the camera rose and fell it was clear that the video was coming from a ship. The sound came on, and she heard the rumble of a big engine and the swish of waves, plus a casual conversation between two men who clearly had no idea what was about to happen.
Then an orange-red dome appeared over the docks. Whoever was filming cried out in shock. The dome grew into a pillar of smoke which then turned into the dread shape of a mushroom cloud.
Pauline wanted to close her eyes but she could not.
Eight million people, she thought; some killed instantly, others wounded horribly, many poisoned for ever by radiation. Koreans and Americans and, in a port city, many other nationalities. Schoolboys and grandmothers and newborn babies. Luis had been right: she could have prevented this and she had not. She would not make that mistake a second time.
The delayed shock wave hit the ship, and the picture became deck, then sky, then blank. Pauline hoped the sailor who had been filming would survive.
She said: ‘Bill, have the Pentagon confirm that what we’ve just seen is a nuclear explosion.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
She did not really doubt it, but radionuclide detectors could verify, and for what she was about to do she could not have too much proof.
General Pak had now done it twice. She could no longer pretend that nuclear war might be avoided. She was the only person in the world who could stop him doing it a third time.
She said: ‘Chess, get a message to President Chen any way you can, telling him the US is about to destroy every nuclear base in North Korea, but will not attack China.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
Pauline took from her pocket the Biscuit. She twisted the plastic case to break the seal, then removed the little card from inside.
Everyone in the room was watching her in silence.
Bill said: ‘It’s confirmed. That was nuclear.’
Pauline’s last faint hope vanished.
She said: ‘Call the War Room.’
Her phone rang and she picked up. A voice said: ‘Madam President, this is General Evers in the Pentagon War Room.’
She said: ‘General, in accordance with my earlier instructions, you have targeted nuclear weapons on every military base in the rebel-held zone of North Korea.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘I am now going to give you the authentication code. When you have heard the correct code, you will give instructions to fire the weapons.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
She looked at the Biscuit and read out the code: ‘Oscar November three seven three. I say again, Oscar November three seven three.’
‘Thank you, Madam President. That is the correct code and I have now given the order to fire.’
Pauline hung up. With a heavy heart she said: ‘It’s done.’
*
At Zhongnanhai they watched a radar graphic that showed missiles rising into the American sky like a flock of grey geese embarking on their great seasonal migration.
Chen said: ‘Launch an all-out cyberattack on American communications of all kinds.’
This was routine. Kai’s best guess was that it would be only partly successful. The Americans had prepared for cyberwar, as the Chinese had; and both sides had fall-back plans and counterattack options. The cyberattack would do some damage without being decisive.
Fu Chuyu said: ‘Where are the rest of the missiles? I see only twenty or thirty.’
Kong Zhao said: ‘It seems to be a limited attack. They’re not starting an all-out nuclear war. Which means the target is probably not China.’
Huang said: ‘We can’t be sure of that. And we can’t take the risk of leaving it too late to counterattack.’
Kong said: ‘We’ll know soon. But right now the target could be anywhere between Vietnam and Siberia.’
Kai could see from the radar feed that the missiles were already over Canada. He barked: ‘Someone give us an estimate of arrival time.’
An aide said: ‘Twenty-two minutes. And the target is not Siberia. The missiles are now too far south for that.’
Kai realized the target could even be the very building he was in. The Situation Room was armoured against anything but a direct hit by a nuclear bomb. If the American missiles were accurate, he would be dead in twenty-two minutes.
Less, now.
He had an urge to phone Ting. He resisted it.
The missiles were now over water.
‘Fifteen minutes,’ said an aide. ‘Vietnam is not a plausible target. It’s Korea or China.’