The US had pulled out of the international treaty abrogating the economic sanctions against Iran. Most of the other parties to the treaty had objected to this. But they had not seen the contents of the FEDAT archive.
In Jerusalem, a dead-letter drop in a wall behind a coffee shop was closed down, and in Tel Aviv a quiet arrest was made.
Chapter Fifteen
IT WAS A very private consultation and it took place over a lunch on the sunlit terrace of Chequers, the British Prime Minister’s official country mansion outside London. The staff, as ever, were drawn from the catering arm of the RAF. The PM’s husband, Colin, put his head through the patio doors, nodded, beamed and withdrew to watch the cricket match between England and Australia.
Marjory Graham was not a great drinker but she enjoyed the occasional glass of Prosecco before Sunday lunch. Sir Adrian took the same. When the waitress withdrew, Mrs Graham turned to her guest.
‘This North Korean business. What do you make of it, Adrian?’
‘You have already received a full briefing from the Foreign Office?’
‘Your former masters. Of course. But I would appreciate your take on it.’
‘What was the official view?’
‘Conventional, of course. Conformist. We should follow the American lead. Agree with the State Department and the White House. And you?’
Sir Adrian sipped and stared across the rolling lawns.
‘I have on occasion participated in a few deception operations. Even run one or two. They can be exceptionally damaging to the opponent and beneficial to oneself. They can cause the enemy months, even years, of error. Time, money, effort, sweat, toil and tears. And all for nothing. Even for a lot less than nothing. For error. But the worst variant is self-delusion. I fear that is the ocean the Americans have chosen to swim in.’
‘The complete denuclearization of North Korea. Not feasible after all?’ she asked.
‘It is a scam, Prime Minister. A lie, a confidence trick. But skilfully offered, as ever. And I fear the White House is falling for it. Again.’
‘Why? They have some very fine brains.’
‘Too many have been fired. And the man who lives there lusts to be awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. So the desire to believe is triumphant. Always the precursor of a successful confidence trick.’
‘So you think Pyongyang is lying?’
‘I am sure of it.’
‘How do they get away with it? Time after time?’
‘North Korea is an enigma, Prime Minister. On the face of it, she has nothing. Or very, very little. In world terms, the country is small, barren, devoid of raw materials, hideously governed, bankrupt and very close to starving. The two grain crops – rice and wheat – have failed again. And yet North Korea bestrides the world like a conqueror.’
‘And how does the regime manage this, Adrian?’
‘Because it is allowed to. The logical are always frightened of the insane.’
‘And because they have nuclear bombs.’
‘Yes, both types. Atomic and thermonuclear. Uranium and polonium. North Korea has ample stocks of both and, though the Kim regime may seem to be handing some over for destruction by the International Atomic Energy Agency, I am convinced it will retain others in secret places. It depends on whether the outside world will believe the lies.’
‘But if North Korea publicly destroys its weapons-testing site – what is it called?’
‘Punggye-ri, Prime Minister.’
‘With that destroyed, how can they go on?’
‘Firstly, because Punggye-ri, which is or was a mountain, is already destroyed. And by them, in error. For thirty years at least, three successive regimes, all dominated by the Kim dynasty – grandfather, son and now grandson – have laboured night and day to create and own an entire armoury of nuclear bombs.
‘Years ago, they chose the mountain of Punggye-ri and began to bore into the side of it. They dug and dug until they reached the heart. Machines were used, but also slave labourers. Many thousands died of malnutrition and overwork. Enough spoil was dug out of the mountain to create two more; it was trucked far away so as not to be seen from the air.
‘When they reached the core they went on digging. More tunnels, galleries, testing chambers, over 180 miles in all. That is a motorway-sized tunnel from London to the Hook of Holland. Then Mother Nature took over. The mountain could take no more. It began to fracture, to collapse inwards.