Page 268 of Never

As she hung up, Bill Schneider said: ‘Missile warning from the infra-red satellite.’

‘Where?’

‘Wait…North Korea.’

Her heart sank.

Gus, sitting next to Pauline, said: ‘Look at the radar.’

Pauline saw the red arc. ‘Just one missile,’ she said.

Bill was wearing the headset that kept him in permanent contact with the Pentagon. He said: ‘It’s not aimed at Seoul – it’s too high.’

Pauline said: ‘Where, then?’

‘They’re triangulating – just a minute – Busan.’

It was South Korea’s second city, a huge port on the south coast with eight million inhabitants. Pauline buried her head in her hands.

Luis said: ‘This wouldn’t have happened if we’d nuked Yeongjeo-dong an hour ago.’

Pauline ran out of patience suddenly. ‘Luis, if all you can say isI told you so, why don’t you just shut the fuck up.’

Luis went pale with shock and anger, but he fell silent.

She said to no one in particular: ‘Let’s see a satellite photo of the target city.’

An aide said: ‘There’s scattered cloud but you can see a lot.’

The picture appeared on a screen and Pauline studied it. She saw a river delta, a broad railway line, and vast docks. She recalled her brief visit to Busan, when she was a congresswoman. The people had been warm and friendly. They had given her an item of traditional dress, a red-and-gold silk shawl, which she still wore.

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.