“If it’s not a mobilization for an attack, it’s a damn good approximation,” said Ken Bo as the secure conference call wound down. “ROK Army intelligence now thinks it’s for real.”
“Not much of an endorsement,” said Verigo Johnson, the Agency’s chief Korean expert.
Slott cut the conversation off before it degenerated. The evidence remained contradictory. Key elements of the North Korean army were moving toward the border, and the navy was on high alert. But the transmissions from army and air force units in the eastern parts of the country intercepted by the National Security Agency were entirely routine. Johnson interpreted this to mean that they were seeing the early stages of a coup, a significant change in what he had told the National Security Council only a few hours before.
Parnelles wasn’t convinced, holding on to the blackmail theory. Slott was trying to stay neutral: No matter what was going on, the situation was extremely dangerous.
“Ken, I need to have a word with you now that we’re done,” said Slott as the others signed off. He glanced across the secure communications center at the specialist handling the call, waiting for the signal that he and Bo were the only ones on the line.
“What’s up?” asked Bo.
“I’m looking for an update on the South Korean plutonium.”
“Two of our people are going into Blessed Peak today,” Bo told him. “I’ll send a report as soon as I hear from them.”
“Good.”
“Listen, Dan. How much priority do you want us to give this thing? It’s obviously nothing.”
“Why are you dismissing it?”
“You saw my note, right?”
Bo was referring to the theory that the material was the remains of the earlier South Korean project.
“I saw it,” said Slott.
Bo was silent.
“All right,” the station chief said finally. “Ferguson is still working on this?”
“Ferguson went across the border a few days ago and hasn’t been heard from since,” said Slott, deciding there was no sense keeping it from him any longer.
“You’re kidding. He went north?”
“He traveled with Park Jin Tae.”
“About the plutonium? Jesus. He’s off on this one, Dan. I know he has a great reputation, but, honestly, he doesn’t know garbage about Korea.”
“Maybe not,” said Slott.
“You want us to put feelers out?”
“No.” Putting feelers out—asking about Ferguson, even in his covered identity—might inadvertently tip off the North Koreans to his true identity. That would be tantamount to signing a death warrant. A crooked Russian arms dealer was far safer in North Korea than a CIA officer.
“Do you want to give me some information about his cover? Maybe we’ll hear something unusual.”
“Let’s leave it the way it is for now, Ken. Update me on the waste site as soon as you can.”