Broken Border: A Novel

By James Fleming

Kim Jon Il holds an iron grip over North Korea, and the world can only wonder what the secretive leader is doing within his borders.

The deputy director of the CIA, Bob Wells, intends to discover the truth. He knows that if he doesnt, the world could see an attack similar to 9/11, or even worse. With the countrys security at stake, and confidence in the intelligence agency shaken, he cant allow such a disaster.

The only person qualified to find out what the North Koreans are doing is Dr. Jon London, but the former operative turned his back on clandestine assignments two years ago. Now, he shares a quiet life as a university professor with the love of his life, Dr. Kim Lake, who knows nothing about his connection to the CIA.

Suddenly, London finds himself enmeshed in a life he thought hed left behind. Hell journey all over the world and enter a land that hardly anyone knows anything about in his efforts to thwart disaster in Broken Border.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: May 14, 2009
• ISBN: 9781440140952

James Fleming

James Fleming was born in London in 1944, the fourth in a family of nine children. He read history at Oxford and has been variously an accountant, farmer, forester and bookseller. The author of two previous novels, The Temple of Optimism and Thomas Gage, he lives in Scotland. Visit him online at jamesfleming.co.uk.

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Contents

PROLOGUE

LIST OF MAJOR CHARACTERS

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

TWENTY-ONE

TWENTY-TWO

TWENTY-THREE

TWENTY-FOUR

TWENTY-FIVE

TWENTY-SIX

TWENTY-SEVEN

TWENTY-EIGHT

TWENTY-NINE

THIRTY

THIRTY-ONE

THIRTY-TWO

THIRTY-THREE

THIRTY-FOUR

THIRTY-FIVE

THIRTY-SIX

THIRTY-SEVEN

THIRTY-EIGHT

THIRTY-NINE

FORTY

FORTY-ONE

FORTY-TWO

FORTY-THREE

FORTY-FOUR

FORTY-FIVE

PROLOGUE

During five days of meetings in Beijing, negotiators said Pyongyang refused to talk about its nuclear weapons program and instead stuck to its demand that the U.S. remove financial restrictions it has imposed on the regime.

- January, 2008

Associated Press

By Bo-Mi Lim

The United States and Japan warned North Korea on Friday against conducting a second nuclear test, as South Korean officials reported suspicious activities at Punggye, a remote test site in northeastern North Korea where the Communist regime conducted its first test on Oct. 9, 2006. In Washington, a State Department spokesperson said a nuclear device ‘would have severe consequences.’

- February, 2008

World In Brief

Negotiations reached a tentative agreement on initial steps for North Korea’s nuclear disbarment. I’m encouraged by this that we were able to take a step forward on the denuclearization issue, said the U. S. envoy.

- April, 2008

MSNBC News

North Korea said the United Sates had agreed to remove it from its list of countries that support terrorism, a move Pyongyang has long sought to receive more aid and hopefully end its status as a global pariah.

- September, 2008

Reuters

An unidentified intelligence official told the Vienna-based International Atomic Energy Agency that while they helped reveal Iran’s secret nuclear program, no new data by American spy agencies has provided any meaningful leads about North Korea’s nuclear ambitions.

- November, 2008

Associated Press

Vienna, Austria

North Korea confirmed a bi-lateral agreement with the US in which it will disclose the location of its remaining nuclear plants and reprocessing plants in exchange for agricultural assistance and food aid to its people.

- December, 2008

Foreign Ministry

Korean Central News Agency

missing image file

LIST OF MAJOR CHARACTERS

University of Sint Maarten:

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Experiences and imagination are the parents of fiction. But friends and family provide the encouragement to write.

I want to thank Navy Captain (ret.) George Kalafut and his lovely wife, Alice, for encouraging me to write this book; much decorated Naval Aviator, Captain (ret.) Ron Hyde; Navy Commander (ret.) Janet Stock; Attorney Robert Dawson, former Assistant Secretary of the Army; Army Major General (ret.) Sue Dueitt; Army Colonel Bob Shaw; F-15 Air Force pilots Major General (ret.) Steve Kearney, and Lt. Colonel (ret.) William Fletcher; Captain Stuart Fleming (separated), U.S. Air Force Academy class of 2000; Career Air Force pilot Joe DeSantis, Air Force Academy class of 1959; Dr. Clifford Bee, professor emeritus at San Diego State University; Squadron Leader Brian Clarkin, Royal Air Force; Mr. Thomas Pettit, retired U.S. Foreign Service Officer; and Dr. L. Harland Davis and Mr. Art Warman, formerly with the U.S. Agency for International Development.

Others important to the writing of this book were Dr. Linda Smyth, Dr. Joy Farmer, Dr. Victor Corrigan, Dr. Steven K. Macheers, Ms. Sydney Collier, Ms. Jo Ann DeSantis, Dr. Jack Gibson, Mrs. Laura Rowland, Ms. Cullene Harper, Dr. Stephen Bartlett, Mr. Gary Bottoms, Gunny (ret.) Victoria Turney; Mr. James Hartsfield, Mr. J. Larry Stevens, Mr. Larry Freeman and Ms. Isabella Einspahr.

I am grateful to Mr. Ray Burgos, 82nd Airborne veteran, for graphics.

Special thanks to the three most important women in my life: Nancy, Jennifer and Kim.

Finally, thanks is due Jennifer Bartlett. She is my primary critic. She deserves credit for making the text readable. Any errors are mine alone.

- JF

Georgia, 2009

ONE

Tuesday, May 26, 2008

Central Intelligence Agency

Langley, Virginia

The terrorist hides in the dense, damp shrubbery outside the Agency Headquarters and waits. He is 50 yards from the main security gate. Shortly after 8 a.m. a car stops at the gate. When it does, he materializes from his hiding place, and opens fired with an AK-47. In 20 seconds he sprays 30 full-metal jacket rounds into the car. He kills two agents and wounds three others.

Not far from the gate is a granite wall memorializing agents. The plaque begins:

In Remembrance to Ultimate Dedication to Mission.

Every time Robert Wells passes the gate he thinks of the agents murdered by the terrorist 15 years earlier.

~ ~ ~ ~

The light rain blurs the windshield of Wells’ graphite-grey Mercedes as it slows and then stops. It rolls over a yellow speed bump and stops again. An armed security officer approaches the driver’s side window. He retrieves and carefully inspects the ID badge of the driver, compares the photo and studies the driver’s face, and then scans it into his UA05 Electronic Digital Assistant (EDA), a handheld scanner and data device. He then scans the VIN of the vehicle.

An unseen second officer, inside the bulletproof tinted glass gate house, reviews the x-ray videos and radar scans of the underside of the car, taken as it rolled over the speed bumps.

Open the trunk, please a third security officer politely requests. Smartly uniformed and physically trim he gives the impression he can handle any situation.

The trunk is thoroughly inspected using a HSD. The Handheld Spectroscopic Device identifies the explosive fingerprints of an object by detecting the energy level of a molecule as it rotates. There is no indication of any explosive chemicals or substances concealed in the trunk. The officer gently closes the trunk and nods to the first officer. Satisfied all is in order, the first officer returns the driver’s ID badge, apologizes for the delay, and motions to the unseen officer in the gatehouse to raise the barrier and permit the car to enter.

The Agency had been at this location since the 1950’s when the original building was built. Referred to as OHB (Original Headquarters Building), the growth of the Agency over the years required more space. An addition was begun in 1990 that added a million more square feet for offices. It was completed on time and within budget at the end of 1991.The NHB (New Headquarters Building) consisted of two six-story towers behind the original structure.

Robert Bob Wells pulls his E 320 into the space marked: RESERVED DDI. He takes off his tinted sunglasses, which he wears for glare - rain, snow, or shine - and puts them above the driver’s sun visor after checking the dimple in his silk striped tie in the mirror. Exiting the car he retrieves his jacket from the backseat, puts it on, and remotely locks the car as he walks away. It is a short walk from the parking deck into the OHB.

The OHB is an impressive building in a college-like setting with lush green grass and mature trees. The landscape is tranquil and pastoral. Inside is anything but pastoral. People working here are the intellectual rivals of the most prestigious university faculties in America.

The checkerboard lobby floor of the OHB is made of highly polished marble terrazzo. It highlights the circular 16-foot Central Intelligence Agency seal. Employees scurry past Wells wearing professional attire and serious expressions. No business casual here. Most of the employees are oblivious to discreet security cameras covering every inch of the lobby.

Wells’ ID badge is scanned at the far left turnstile - one of six - on the way to the elevator banks. He waits at the elevators only a few minutes. There are no others in the elevator as he lightly touches the heat-sensing button for the fourth floor, the entrance level for the NHB. Moments later he exits and walks a short distance to another set of elevators that serve the sixth floor.

After exiting the second set of elevators, he passes through a metal detector, and a body scanner, while another security officer waits to inspect any items he might be carrying. Having none, he presents his encoded, holograph ID and is cleared. Sixty steps later he turns right and proceeds to the third door on the left: SPOCR.

SPOCR is the Special Projects and Operations Conference Room, a specially constructed room for meetings involving sensitive, classified or covert issues. When Wells enters the room everyone stands up and then sits down as he motions them to be seated.

Good morning, says Adrian Soperton, head of Special Project StingRay. Wells is Deputy Director for Intelligence (DDI), and the only person in the room whose full name and title have been revealed to those present. Wells reports directly to the Director of Central Intelligence (DCI), and is ultimately responsible for the success or failure of all covert operations.

Adrian Soperton reports directly to Wells. He was raised in Aberdeen, Mississippi, and graduated from the University at Oxford. He took a Harvard law degree, speaks with an acquired Bostonian accent, and wears a gold Harvard class ring. Tall and thin (6’3", 150 pounds), he is always immaculately dressed. He prefers fitted two-button suits and vertical stripped colored shirts, which make him look even thinner. A boyish forty-eight years old he has graying hair on the sides of his head but not much on top of it. What hair he does have is thinning rapidly and he worries he is going bald. The gold wire-frame, round-shaped, glasses correct for near-sightedness.

Distracters think Soperton a dandy. Others think he is merely eccentric. Wells thinks him competent, efficient, hardworking and loyal.

Director Wells? Soperton says as he recognizes Wells for remarks.

Thank you, Adrian, Wells responds as he unbuttons his jacket. Soperton takes the chair next to Wells.

Wells, unlike Soperton, dresses more conservatively. His suits are not tailored, but he is quite fit at 6’1" and 190 lbs. He wears a navy blue suit, white shirt, and stripped dark blue silk tie. He only wears white shirts. And he always wears French cuffs with unusual cuff links. Today he wears gold ones with a small Burmese (Myanmar) ruby in the center.

In college Wells was an outstanding quarterback for a perennial football powerhouse. His large hands could hold a basketball in either hand. He earned a Master’s degree from Harvard’s Kennedy School of Government. For decades a Harvard or Yale degree were the union cards for those seeking employment at the CIA.

Wells is easy going as long as the going is easy. Lately, however, things have not been going easily.

The conference room is thickly carpeted and sound-proofed. For recording purposes, small black microphones sit like miniature frogs at each place. Large and comfortable cloth arm chairs are evenly spaced around the table, equal distance from a speaker phone in the center. The far wall has a remote screen for viewing slides, power-point presentations, videos, film, or whatever. A second wall has three 48 x 96 magnetic dry-erase whiteboards made of porcelain (one down and two additional backup boards behind it). A third wall contains the classified space pixel screen. Next to it is a wall-mounted, 52 inch, flat screen, HD color plasma TV.

Gentleman and lady, Wells says quickly, thanks to you Project StingRay is officially off the drawing board.

There are smiles all round, and hushed mutterings of good news, excellent, finally, and a few handshakes between people sitting near one another.

I know it has been a challenge, Wells continues in his southern baritone voice, purposely making eye contact with each of the six people around the thick glass conference table.

Collectively these people are benignly known as The Winter Study Group (aka WSG). Because of a steady and unsettling flow of HUMIT (human intelligence) the Agency anticipated a continuing deteriorating of the situation and - with the Director’s approval - organized this group.

It was a wise decision.

The WSG met regularly during January, February, March and April – hence its name. In April its work came together, and by mid May a final report completed. In all those months, only first names were permitted: no titles, last names, organizational affiliation, or locations. E-mails were only allowed over a secure net routed through a complex system run by the Agency, with many firewalls, byzantine filters, multiple server platforms, and intricate routers. Discussion of the specific role of any individual was expressly forbidden. As the project progressed, however, it became apparent some members of the Winter Study Group lent their expertise more in one area than another.

I’m not much at making speeches, so I won’t. In the coming months you may be called upon for additional help. This project is classified ULTRA SECRET. Outside this room, StingRay is known to only two people. It is critical none of us ever speak of it, not only because of national security, but because the lives of people are at stake. Your only reward is the personal satisfaction of knowing you did a great service for your country and the world.

Not exactly.

Each member of the WSG received a $15,000 honorarium, per diem allowance, and travel expenses. As academics, recognition is the coin of the realm to strengthen their

curriculum vitae (resumes). This was foreseen. Each was designated Expert Consultant to the Bureau of Science and Technology, U. S. Department of State.

Any last questions? Wells asks, expecting none.

Just one, replies Betty, a Georgia Tech professor and acknowledged expert on sensors and nanotechnology. The sole woman on the team, Betty is an accomplished professional with years of consulting experience to the government. She is a bookworm, and quite vain. Regardless of the season, she always wears a scarf around her neck to hide the signs of aging.

Certainly.

What is a stingray?

A tension-breaking group chuckle breaks out, and even Wells has to laugh.

It’s a blunt nose, nearly flat, ray. Stingray comes from the Portuguese, Raia Amareta, answers Wells. They prefer warm shallow coastal waters, like Florida. Usually they hide in the sand on the bottom during the day and hunt at night.

Stingray sounds better than the tongue-twisting ‘stompsnuitpijlstaartrog,’ comments Isaac, who is fluent in German. Everyone laughs even louder.

As a teenager I’d occasionally see them in the Gulf of Mexico while scuba diving. In spite of the name they are relatively harmless, Wells says, as the laughter subsides. It’s worth noting, as trivia, that the skin of the stingray is among the toughest on the planet. Isaac probably knows the Japanese wrapped sword handles with it for centuries.

He didn’t know, but he nods as if he did.

Didn’t one kill that Australian? inquires Betty, still curious about the name and the fish. At least she thinks it is a fish.

Steve Irwin, mumbles Reed, a plastic pen in his mouth. A mechanical engineering professor at San Diego State University, he gave up cigarettes ten years earlier. In their place he acquired the habit of chewing on a ballpoint pen.

That was a tragic accident, adds Wells quietly. He must have frightened the stingray, which acted in self defensive. He looks around the table. Reed moves his head slightly in silent agreement.

Any other questions?

There were none.

Wells turns and shakes hands with Adrian. I would like to report to the Director soon, he whispers. Let’s pull together the Project Team. I’ll need an operational brief. Good job, Adrian. Wells looks at the group, smiles at everyone, gives a modified good-bye wave, and leaves the room.

TWO

Thursday, May 28, 2008

0600

Sint Maarten, Netherland Antilles

The bedroom drapes flutter in the brisk ocean breeze. Kim’s naked body is silhouetted by the early morning sun as she looks from the bedroom balcony at the bleach-white idyllic beach three hundred yards distant. The Atlantic Ocean is choppy, whitecaps born and dying every few meters. Puffy grey clouds hint at an afternoon rain shower. She senses Jon.

Are you staring at me? she asks without turning around.

Most certainly I am not, he lies. I am merely admiring you.

Truth told he never tired of looking at the dimple at the small of her back, above her perfect derriere. Kim’s 24 inch waist and 34 inch hips were evidence of her commitment to Pilates and diet. And maybe vanity.

What do you think I am? yawns Jon as he sits up and stretches his arms above his head.

Kim turns quickly, leaps four steps, literally pouncing on him and tumbling both of them onto the king-size bed. I know what you are. You’re an animal! she growls in a playful husky voice, smothering his face, neck, and shoulders with kisses.

Clearly untrue, he weakly protests.

And from what I can tell, she giggles as she reached into his pajama bottoms, You are an early riser!

You have a dirty mind. Let me up, he says, bucking her off. I’ve got to run before breakfast.

Kim sits up, slides off the satin sheets, and gets to her feet. With mock disappointment she says, Well, if that’s how you are going to act I’ll just take a shower while you start the coffee.

She then pretends to be angry and stomps off to the bathroom.

Jon ruffles his hair with one hand and stumbles to his dresser. He retrieves a fresh T-shirt and running shorts and returns to sit on the bed to put his socks and Nikes on. After double knotting his shoes, he gets up and walks into the bathroom. He brushes his teeth in the sink with the water running. Kim always gave him environmentally sensitive grief about that. He runs his hand over his face. Light beard. He hates shaving. But today he has to abuse his face before going to the university. He takes a few steps across the white tile floor to the oversized shower door. Openings it a mere inch, he slightly raises his voice, OK, the coffee’s on. I’ll be back in about an hour.

Thanks, darling, she says, her eyes shut tightly as she shampoos her hair. I’m going to go the university before you get back. Give me a call when you get there. I love you, she sings, and blows a watery kiss in his direction.

Jon walks through the kitchen, turning on Mr. Coffee. The door locks automatically behind him as he skips down the narrow steps of the red tiled villa – past Rhododendron overgrowing the stone wall - and stands looking seaward toward St. Barth’s. He takes ten lung-filling deep breaths before beginning his stretching routine.

Jon is 5’ 11"and 175 lean pounds. His light brown hair has a few silver threads in it. He has hazel eyes and a fair completion, reflecting his Scot-Irish-English heritage. Long muscles rather than short ones mean he has no bulging biceps. Still, he has eight percent body fat. He possesses a subtle kinetic energy that gives the impression he is capable of pouncing like a cat.

The route he will run today is more up and down than flat. It parallels the coastline and provides impressive views of the ocean. He passes undeveloped ocean front properties, some run down shacks, a few goats, and expensive residences costing in the millions of dollars, all within sight of each other. One house, according to local lore, once belonged to Sylvester Stallone. Another to the former two-time Massachusetts Senator, Edward W. Brooke. He has no idea if either urban legend was true.

Running is a great way to clear the mind. Jon has run at least 30,000 miles since he adopted it as his exercise of choice while in the military. His knees are fine, but he suspects it will not be long until he had to select an alternative exercise – or replace his knees. Cardiovascular-wise, running is a life-extender. His resting heart rate is in the low fifties, and rarely gets above the mid sixties. Seven minute miles are not difficult. He can easily maintain seven and a half or eight minute miles in a marathon. He once finished the New York Marathon in 3:20. He tries to run at least five times a week, and misses it when he does not.

The first part of the run is downhill. He passes a shoulder-high stone wall, with broken glass bottles lining its top on his right. In a short distance, the wall gives way to a rusting chain link fence. This section is topped with barbed wire. Large irregular-shaped boulders line the road on his left. An expensive black metal fence signals a change in ownership. Sections of the road are more dirt, pebbles and gravel than asphalt. The asphalt has gaping potholes, reminding him of Bagdad or some other war-torn country. It does not reflect well on the government.

The short downhill stretch past the Westin Resort gives his muscles a warm-up, and time to decide what to think about. Momentarily undecided on a topic, he begins running up a steep incline, passing a rusting once-blue backhoe overgrown with weeds. It was probably left over from the construction of the Westin resort. He and Kim often run together. She likes to talk when running. He doesn’t. She is an excellent runner. She ran in the Boston marathon several times. Thinking of her makes time pass quickly. He never tires thinking of her, and her deep brown eyes.

Kim’s eyes remind Jon of a dog he had when 12 years old. Of course, he would never tell Kim that. Rebel, a black Labrador retriever, had expressive eyes much like hers. Together he and Rebel would roam the woods behind his rural home in search of whatever crossed their path. Nothing much ever did, but that was alright. Just being together was enough. Rebel looked at Jon, trying to understand every word, tilting his head this way, and that way, as he listened. His eyes were intelligent, and conveyed love and loyalty. He missed Rebel. Maybe he would get another Lab some day.

Thinking about anything but running helps Jon pass the time. He decides economics and the public interests will be today’s topics. He advocates a beautification project for the island’s golf course. It would help tourism. Health care is another good topic. Basic health care on the island is good, but medical specialties are few and far between, such as urology, cardiology, and oncology. Expanding the primary hospital is desirable. Politicians should favor establishing a central bank for better monetary and fiscal policy. And pegging the currency to the dollar – dollarization – deserves serious discussion. The plan to break-up the five islands of the Netherlands Antilles is behind schedule. He is interested in what that would mean for Sint Maarten.

Economic development activity on the island seemed to be slowing. Development is good when it benefited everyone, and not just capitalistic and governmental interests. Jon’s undergraduate degree is in economics, and he sometimes fantasizes about how good life could be if private and public sector interests came together.

Jon wonders how to create a stronger emphasize on education, especially university education, and job creation programs for the island’s young people. He thinks the French side of the island has nice residential developments, a good approach to public health and, naturally, great but expensive restaurants in Grand Case. The wait staffs in Grand Case are too often rude, especially to patrons that do not speak French. He likes Marigot, the French capital, and the stores and merchants there. Unfortunately, more than 70 small stores closed in the past year, the result of the slipping economy. The downturn, of course, is fueled by slowing tourism and the weakening dollar vs. the euro. The French police (Gendarmerie) seem to do an excellent job - what little he had seen of them, thank God – and he holds them in high regard.

A heavy truck roars by, kicking up a cloud of dust and causing Jon to refocus his thoughts. Unexpectedly, he has a melancholy moment thinking about his sedate life. Not that he is dissatisfied, exactly, but sometimes it seems to him a narrow existence - predictable and dull. Still, it is about as perfect as anyone could hope for…only, sometimes, he misses the excitement of an earlier time.

THREE

Friday, May 29, 2008

SPO Conference Room – 6th floor

New Headquarters Building – CIA

Langley, Virginia

Three days after the meeting with the Winter Study Group (WSG), the Special Project Team gathers. Wells considers these CAD (Comment and Discussion) meetings. There was a time when they were known as CAS (Caring and Sharing) meetings. In recent years they have unofficially been renamed TAB meetings for Twitching and Bitching.

Wells made his mark as head of the Agency’s Directorate of the National Clandestine Service. Even though Project StingRay would ordinarily fall under the NCS, the Director decided Wells would coordinate the effort through personnel in the four directorates. He did so because of the trust he placed in him.

It is late morning when everyone settles around the conference table. Deputy Director Wells sits in his usual place, equal distance from both ends of the table with his back to the door. A workaholic, Wells had been in the office since 5 a.m.

I’d like a brief overview, he begins without preamble, in preparation for my meeting with Director Jeremiah.

This is standard operating procedure. Folders are opened, notes spread out, pen and pencils readied, and chairs adjusted to get closer or further from the table.

Let’s go around the table, Wells suggests. He swivels his eyes to look at Soperton, who wears an unrevealing expression, for agreement.

First up is Guillermo Nunes on Wells’ immediate left.

Adrian has my written report, begins Nunes, getting up from his chair. Gil is an acknowledged expert on remote sensing, with a doctorate in geography from the University of Wisconsin. His Agency home is in the Directorate of Science and Technology. He has a round face and a chunky build, but a pleasing disposition that makes him easy to work with. Because of his girth, he seldom buttons his jackets. He prefers bow ties, something GQ would frown upon.

I have a few satellite images, he reports as he walks to the space pixel screen at the front of the room. He touches the screen with one finger and it comes alive. First, some orientation to our area of interest.

On the screen is a detailed colored map.

This is a map of East Asia with North Korea in the center – Sea of Japan on your right and Korea Bay on your left. He touches North Korea on the screen. A color image appears.

This map focuses on the natural border between North Korea and Chinese Manchuria: the Yalu River. He again touches the screen. This zooms in on Yongbyon. Take a good look. It may not be there in 30 days.

The photo was taken directly overhead, from hundreds of miles in space. The image has a superimposed white rectangular line around the plant, done by analyst to focus attention on it. The main complex is composed of three buildings. There is a housing development west of the plant buildings, on the other side of railroad tracks. It probably is housing for plant workers.

Nunes pauses to marvel at the imagery on the screen. Suddenly, as if awakened from a nap, he turns and looks at the military analyst. George, do you want to comment on any of these images?

Yes, thank you, is the prompt response.

George is George Shanin. He is a member of the Agency’s National Clandestine Service. He gets up from the table and marches to the front of the room. He is wearing tailored tan trousers with a razor-sharp crease. He is a graduate of Norwich University in Vermont – founded in 1819 – and the birthplace of the Reserve Officers Training Corps (ROTC). He is a tall, soldierly, figure who brooks no nonsense. He touches the screen with his left index finger, standing so not block anyone’s view. A new satellite image appears.

This is YongByon environs, courtesy of Joint Operations. People in the room

have seen images of the area, but they know this is the most current image. Few are able to distinguish any difference from earlier photos. He touches an icon at the bottom of the screen and drags it to the center.

This is a 5 Mw reactor. Not everyone has seen this photo. Shanin scrolls the screen downward. And this is a 50 Mw reactor. Just south/southwest of the reactor is a reprocessing facility. This facility is a major one, judging by the size of the buildings in comparison with the 5 Mw reactors.

Pakchon is the location of the uranium concentrate production plant. It’s a major concern. No one comments, but all agree.

Lastly, Shanin says, lightly tapping the screen, here are the locations of other areas of concern: the 200 Mw nuclear power reactor at Taechon, a pair of 1,000 Mw light water reactors at Kumho, and uranium mining at Pyongsan. There are 22 facilities in 18 locations. He pauses for any reaction.

He gets one in three seconds.

Great God! exclaims a youthful analyst. It is an unexpected knee jerk reaction from the newest analyst on the team. It takes everyone by surprise.

Nonplussed, Shanin finishes. In conclusion, keep in mind there are at least eight facilities for chemical and biological production - stuff like sarin, anthrax, and adamsite.

What are you talking about? the same astonished analyst, Ginger Buckley, asks. Buckley primarily works on computer modeling. This is her first meeting on operational issues. She has no reason to know about the breath of weapons development in North Korea or, for that matter, things military.

I’m talking about nerve gases and blood agents, primarily, Shanin patiently explains. Then there is the biological stuff called Zoonosis: Ebola, Nipah, Rabies, and Bubonic Plague. Nasty stuff that comes from pathogens that jump from animals to humans. H5N1, for example, is bird flu. There are also anthropozoonotic diseases like polio, influenza, and a half dozen other unpleasant diseases. And let us not forget viruses.

Buckley looks around the table but can’t decide whether everyone else knows what Shanin is talking about, isn’t concerned about it, or it doesn’t fall in their area of expertise.

Shanin hesitates again. When there are no additional comments, he executes a right face and returns to his seat.

A thoughtful silence is interpreted by Nunes. Yes, well, thank you, George.

Nunes returns to the space pixel screen. Just another screen or two. This is a Tactical Pilotage Chart showing features along the proposed route.

The chart is cluttered with data and details – hazards to navigation, depth of the water, and so forth - only a ship’s navigator could comprehend.

These are good images, Nunes continues. You can see North Korea has an interesting geography. In fact, 80 percent of the land mass is mountains and rocky terrain. Not unlike Alaska in temperatures and landscape. Obviously, the land is not well suited for agriculture.

Nunes zooms the satellite image out.

Notice the hills and lower mountains in the west, and the high mountains in the east, he says, using a laser pointer to circle the geographic features. In the spring and summer water levels are low. Definitely not good for the project. But the river is wide, swift, and in some places deep. Fall and winter are the periods of the heaviest rains and flooding. Much better for our purposes. He glances across the table at Dieter Hetzer, the team meteorologist.

Correct, Hetzer says, picking up the clue. He was born and raised in Huntsville, Alabama, the son of a German scientist working with Werner von Braun at Redstone Arsenal – home of the Army Ballistic Missile Agency. Hetzer’s most prominent physical feature is a large nose. He spends a lot of time scratching it because it is always red.

December and January experience extremely frigid temperatures, Hetzer reads from his written report because North Korea has a long land border that is conducive to severe winds from Siberia and Manchuria. Rivers smaller than the Yalu freeze over three or four months of the year.

Ice on the Yalu? asks Wells.

Hetzer looks up from his script. Some floating ice, but the swift current, width, and river traffic keep the river open. There is icing along the banks, of course. Along the coast heavy icing blocks some harbors.

What impact, chimes in Sarah Stein, completely ignoring the weather report, does the fact that State took them off the Sponsor of Terrorism list have? Stein is a senior member of the Directorate of Intelligence and Analysis.

This isn’t totally unexpected, Wells answers. Thoughtful people at State don’t really believe they are no longer a member of the ‘Axis of Evil,’ but want to reward them for their cooperation. Bobbing heads nod in collective affirmation. Stein says nothing.

Wells looks to Jerry Clarkin, a naval architect, to continue.

Before Clarkin can speak, a youthful Waldo Peterson interrupts. We’re working on the SPDV (Single Purpose Delivery Vehicle). He is anxious to be helpful. And to strengthen his standing with the team. He and Clarkin are in the Directorate of Mission Support. Their role is critical.

But I won’t have a definitive answer for another four or five weeks, he hedges.

Wells raises his eyebrows and looks at Soperton. I don’t want any snags.

"These things always