When he had no evening engagements, Senator Tewilliger liked to end his day by riding his exercise bike, taking a shower, and then relaxing with a Southern Comfort Manhattan. Or two.
His staff was not supposed to call him after ten p.m., which gave him a solid half hour to ride, and thirty minutes for a shower and a nice drink before catching the network news and nodding off.
So why was the phone ringing at 10:32, just as he got off his bike?
The answering machine picked up. He heard a male voice he didn’t recognize at first tell him something was up with Korea.
Tewilliger realized it was Josh Franklin. He grabbed the phone just before Franklin hung up.
“You’re working very late, Undersecretary,” said Tewilliger.
“I apologize for calling you at this hour,” said Franklin. “But I wanted to make sure you’d heard: The North Korean Army is mobilizing.”
“What?”
“We had a National Security session on it. It’s still pretty tightly wrapped, but I would imagine word will start to leak out tomorrow or the next day, if not from us then from the Australians or the Brits, whom we’ve been updating. I would have called sooner, but I didn’t get the chance.”
Of course not, thought Tewilliger; Franklin wanted to use a phone whose calls weren’t logged.
“What’s going on?”
“I really shouldn’t go into detail, Senator.”
“Josh. Come on now.”
Franklin told him what he knew, including the administration’s planned response, which he characterized somewhat harshly as sitting around until the peninsula caught fire.
“There have been troop movements and mobilizations in the past,” said Tewilliger. “What makes you think these are different?”
“The timing is suspicious,” said Franklin. “I would bet that they used the treaty as a way of lulling us into complacency.”
“Maybe.” Tewilliger had already begun to discount the information, at least as a harbinger of any sort of attack by the North. Still, it would help torpedo the treaty. “I appreciate the heads-up, Josh. I’ll remember it.”
“Thank you, Senator.”
Tewilliger went across the room to his desk and began flipping through his Rolodex. It was never too late to call a sympathetic reporter, especially with information like this.