Code Word: Paternity, A Presidential Thriller Read Online Free PDF Page B

C-17 cargo planes has begun.
    “As we all are horribly aware, there are
injured people in the high-radiation area, the no-go zone, who are unable to
walk out. Rescue personnel can’t reach them because radiation would be fatal to
them, as it will soon be to those survivors. They will inevitably die, either
from their burns and wounds, or from radiation poisoning. To their great
credit, rescuers—particularly helicopter crews—have volunteered to enter the
no-go zone anyway. But the hard truth is that wouldn’t save a single victim and
would not only cost their families the lives of those brave men and women, it
would cost the country their desperately needed skills.”
    Rick thought of his debate with Sam Yu
over whether to suppress the television helicopter video of mutilated bodies
and dying survivors in the no-go zone. He had decided not to suppress it,
partly because it simply couldn’t be stopped—images filled the Internet—and
partly because it was the new reality that the country needed to absorb.
    Lights dimmed to a yellowish hue, then
returned to normal. Martin flung a quip, reminding them that he had proposed
legislation to modernize the nation’s power grid. It fell flat. Without the
amenities of the White House press room, or even chairs, the correspondents
were becoming a scrum. As Rick watched, one who crouched to retrieve her pen
nearly became road kill.
    Rick considered the shouts, searching for
just the right question. He heard it: “Mr. President, what’s the impact of this
on the lives of Americans?”
    Glad that he recognized the questioner,
Martin said, “James, I think it will take some time before we know the full
impact on life in America.
But I believe that as we deal with this, we must use methods within the bounds
of what is best about our country. We will not become a closed and fearful
society. We will not repeat mistaken policies, such as the internment of
Japanese Americans after Pearl Harbor. We—“
    Utter blackness.
      The journalists, sweaty and claustrophobic,
alerted and started like a herd of antelope scenting a predator. When someone
yelled, “Smoke!” they were off, shoving and elbowing toward the only door,
dimly lit by an emergency light.
    Wilson and another agent grabbed Martin
by his elbows, hustled him to a corner, then stood in front of him, weapons
drawn. Things were happening so fast that Martin wasn’t thinking, only
reacting. That suited Wilson
just fine, as he commanded over his shoulder, “Sit on the floor, Mr.
President!”

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    Chapter
6
    Pyongyang , North
Korea (DPRK)—Twelve Months Previously.
    The Dear Leader lit up and paced his
office. The Arabs—they were back again, he
thought. For years they had sought radioactive materials, any materials, from
him. After he detonated a fission bomb inside a mountain, announcing his power
to the world, they began asking for a complete weapon. For years he sent them
away, but they kept coming back, each time honoring him more and offering more
cash for the glorious future of Korea.
And this time . . .
    Kim knew he possessed wisdom far above
others. He could solve any problem. He offered solutions freely to his
countrymen, in farming, in fishing, in steel-making, in education, giving them
on-the-spot guidance. He was so often disappointed that those to whom he gave
his guidance were unable to carry it out. Despite that, he continued his
patient teaching and kind leadership, as had his father, Kim il-Sung.
    Kim crushed his cigarette and lit
another.
    Of all his talents, he was proudest of
his skill as a media producer. Encouraged by his father, he had developed North Korea’s
filmmaking resources—the only thing of his the man hadn’t denigrated. He spent
thousands of hours studying the world’s best films, even learning English and
French the better to dissect the filmmaker’s craft. He wrote, directed, and
produced films and entered international competitions. When he needed