Chen did not reply to Kong.
Fu said: ‘I have no alternative but to place Chang Kai and Kong Zhao under arrest.’
Kai thought: How can they arrest us in the middle of the Situation Room?
But they had thought of that.
The main door opened, and six of Wang’s security men came in, in their trademark black suits and black ties.
Kai said: ‘This is a coup!’
He guessed this was what his father had been plotting with Fu Chuyu and General Huang over their dinner of pigs’ feet at the Enjoy Hot restaurant.
Wang spoke to Chen again, but this time loudly enough to be heard by everyone. ‘With your permission, Mr President.’
Chen hesitated for a long moment.
Kai said: ‘Mr President, if you go along with this, you cease to be the leader of our country and become a mere tool of the military.’
Chen looked as if he agreed with that. Clearly he thought the moderates had won the argument. But the old guard were more powerful. Could he defy them and survive? Could he defy the army and the collective authority of the old Communists?
He could not.
‘Go ahead,’ said President Chen.
Wang beckoned his men.
Everyone watched in hypnotic silence as the security men crossed the room and mounted the stage. Two stood either side of Kai and two beside Kong. Both men stood up and were held lightly by the elbows.
Kong spoke furiously. Looking at Fu Chuyu, he yelled: ‘You will destroy your country, you motherfucking idiots!’
Fu said quietly: ‘Take them both to Qincheng Prison.’
Wang said: ‘Yes, minister.’
The guards marched Kai and Kong down from the stage, across the floor and out of the room.
Chang Jianjun was in the lobby, by the elevators. He had stepped outside so that he would not have to witness the arrest.
Kai recalled a conversation in which his father had said Communism is a sacred mission. It comes above everything else, including our family ties and our own personal safety. Now he understood what the old man had meant.
Wang stopped and said uncertainly: ‘Chang Jianjun, did you wish to speak to your son?’
Jianjun would not meet Kai’s eye. He said: ‘I have no son.’
‘Ah, but I have a father,’ said Kai.
CHAPTER 42
Pauline had killed hundreds of people, perhaps thousands, by bombing North Korean military bases, and more would have been maimed by the blast and ravaged by the radiation. In her head she knew she had done the right thing: General Pak’s murderous regime had to be closed down. But no amount of reasoning could make her feel all right about it in her heart. Every time she washed her hands she thought of Lady Macbeth trying to get the blood off.
She had spoken to the nation on television at eight o’clock this morning. She had announced that the nuclear threat from North Korea was now over. The Chinese and others should understand that this was the fate that awaited any group that used nuclear weapons against the US or its allies. She had received messages of support from more than half the world’s leaders, she reported: a rogue nuclear regime was a threat to everyone. She urged calm but did not assure the audience that everything was going to be all right.
She feared the Chinese would retaliate, though she did not tell them that. The thought filled her with dread.
Telling people not to panic was never effective, and the flight out of American cities grew. Every major town centre was gridlocked. Hundreds of cars formed lines at border crossings into Canada and Mexico. Gun stores sold out of ammunition. At a Costco in Miami a man was shot dead in a quarrel over the last box of twelve cans of tuna.
Immediately after the broadcast, Pauline and Pippa got into Marine One to fly to Munchkin Country. Having been up all night, Pauline catnapped on the way. When the helicopter landed, she did not want to open her eyes. She would grab an hour or two of sleep later, if she could.
As the elevator took them down Pauline was grateful to be deep underground, but she felt cowardly for thinking of her own safety, then she looked at Pippa and was glad again.
The first time she had come to Munchkin Country she had been a visiting celebrity inspecting a showpiece. Everything had been pristine, the atmosphere calm. It was different today. Now the place was functioning and the corridors were bustling, mostly with people in uniform. Pauline’s Cabinet and senior Pentagon officers were moving in. Store cupboards were being resupplied, and half-empty cardboard boxes were everywhere. Engineers accessed environmental control machinery, checking and oiling and double-checking. Orderlies were putting towels in the bathrooms and setting tables in the officers’ mess. The air of brisk efficiency did not quite mask the undertone of suppressed fear.