Uncivil Servants

Copyright © Ian R. Kelley

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This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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ISBN: 978-1-4759-5834-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4759-5836-2 (e)

ISBN: 978-1-4759-5835-5 (dj)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012920225

iUniverse rev. date: 11/01/2012

Contents

Introduction

Prologue

1 Special Agent Forbes

2 The First Lady

3 White House Situation Room

4 The President, The Man

5 The Attaché

6 The Patriot

7 Planning For Success

8 Low Profile

9 Classified Details

10 Preparing For The Future, And Past

11 Reminiscing

12 Change Of Plans

13 Good Vs. Evil

14 The Summit

15 Aftermath

16 Dragon Hill

17 Final Preparations

18 Down But Not Out

19 New Friends, New Foes

20 Seoul Tower

21 All Or Nothing

22 Command Post Tango

For the girls, Amber and Erin, of course

The Secret Service is an elite federal law enforcement agency mandated by statute and executive order to protect the President and Vice President of the United States. As Civil Servants, members of the Secret Service are required to take the following oath:

I, _______ do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter. So help me God.

introduction

The dividing of Korea came at the end of World War II with the Soviet Union having influence over the North, the United States over the South. The 38th parallel served as the temporary dividing line between the two Koreas until the winners could agree on sharing the spoils. However, when the North, under Kim Il Sung, organized a communist government in 1946, this dividing line became more rigid.

On June 25, 1950, war broke out along the 38th parallel when North Korean troops attacked strategic points along the line and moved south toward Seoul. The United Nations Security Council responded by adopting a resolution condemning the invasion. To protect U.S. interests, President Truman committed American troops to a combined United Nations military force under the command of General Douglas McArthur. Truman didn’t go to Congress for a formal declaration of war. Officially, the U.S. said America’s presence was little more than a police action, but in reality, Truman knew better.

For more than a half a century, suspicion has characterized the relationship between the communist North and the democratic South. Twelve U.S. Presidents and two despots have struggled with both words and arms to gain the upper hand but have failed, thus perpetuating the stalemate.

Will peace ever be possible on one peninsula for two peoples, the same blood running through their veins, yet divided by an imaginary line? Will North Korea’s new Supreme Leader open the doors, joining the rest of the world or will he choose to carry on the family tradition of repression and secrecy?

Most agree the world would be a better place when and if North and South Korea unite. Others have doubts, and some in the region fear the industrial might of one Korea.

Six nations will come together to decide the future and fate of millions, possibly the world. Three civil servants, a Japanese Diplomat, a South Korean Army Officer, and a United States Secret Service Agent will do all they can to influence the decision. Who will prevail and at what cost?

prologue

Air Force One is the Air Traffic Control call sign for aircraft transporting the President of the United States. The Vice President’s aircraft is designated Air Force Two. When airborne, Air Force Two’s flight plan is controlled and monitored by a U.S. Air Force Airborne Warning and Control System, AWACS-3, aircraft with the call sign Guardian.

Major, we have bogies.

Radar Control, repeat, the AWACS pilot responded, looking at his co-pilot.

Bogies, 400 nautical miles out approaching from the northeast and closing, sir.

Operations Control, this is the Captain; confirm bogies and advise, over.

Yes sir, the Operations Control Officer responded. With the skill and speed gained through repeated training exercises, the Operations Control Officer reset the radar display, checking and rechecking the array of flashing lights on the master control panel. Turning to his right, he entered numbers on a key pad then looked up at the display screen. They weren’t system-generated anomalies or false images; they were real.

Sir, Operations Control confirms bogies 400 nautical miles out, approaching from the northwest, speed Mach 1.2. J-STARS tracking two unidentified aircraft. Sir, J-STARS confirms bogies on intercept course with Air Force Two. Captain, if bogies maintain current heading and speed, ETA with Air Force Two in twelve minutes, sir. The AWACS pilot knew the Concorde was the only commercial supersonic aircraft and it was no longer in-service. He also knew only military aircraft flew in pairs, or at Mach speeds. Following protocol, the AWACS pilot flipped a switch above his head, activating the Command Intercept Computer.

Operations Control, this is the Captain. Command Intercept Authorization active; repeat, Command Intercept Authorization is active. Do you copy?

Roger, Captain, the operator replied, hearing the sound, and seeing the flashing red light on his console. Lieutenant Colonel Hammonds practiced this procedure during training manoeuvres, but this was no training exercise; there was no room for error.

Operations Control, this is the Captain; Authentication Code active. Transmit code to Kadena Nest; repeat, transmit code to Nest and confirm. With the flip of a switch, the AWACS Operations Control Officer initiated the voice and data transmission.

Kadena Nest, this is Guardian. Transmitting Intercept Authentication Code alpha-foxtrot-beta 18-59-11 November; 147-22-37-Whiskey; repeat, alpha-foxtrot-beta 18-59-11 November; 147-22-37 Whiskey. Do you copy, Nest, over? Kadena Nest, this is Guardian. Do you copy?

Roger, Guardian, transmission received; we copy. Intercept Authentication Code valid, the control tower on the U.S. Air Base in Kadena, Japan responded. Within seconds of the tower receiving the latitude and longitude codes, sirens and flashing lights interrupted the silence of the ready-room. F-22 pilots were in full stride across the tarmac to their birds of prey.

Air Force Two, did you copy, over?

Roger that Guardian, confirmed. We’ll inform the Secret Service, replied Air Force Two’s pilot.

"Guardian, this is Air Force Two, now going to ESAF-3. Will advise when Bulldog is ready. Do you copy, Guardian?

Roger that, Air Force Two. The AWACS Operations Control Officer and pilot of Air Force Two directed their attention to the ESAF panel on their respective consoles, switching from the scrambled radio transmission frequency to an encrypted-scrambled-alert frequency required by protocol. Air Force Two, this is Guardian. We have you and bogies on scope. Guardian advises climb to three-seven-zero-zero feet, over.

Roger, Guardian. Air Force Two executing altitude and course change. Guardian was on-station at 41,000 feet monitoring Air Force Two’s flight to Washington. Vice President John Conner and the U.S. delegation were on-board, returning from the Conference on Global Warming in Bangkok. Everyone looked forward to getting home; no one had expected an encounter with unidentified aircraft.

John, give my regards to the family and don’t forget, just because you’re calling it quits doesn’t mean you can skip our weekly tee-time. I need the money, Guardian out.

Will do, Bob. Colonel Bob Santos and Lieutenant Colonel Tim Hammonds were graduates of the same class at the U.S. Air Force Academy. They were old friends and had known each other for years. Bob had served as one of Air Force Two’s pilots for the past twelve years but decided it was time to put in his retirements papers. Happy in some ways, sad in others, this was his last flight working with Guardian’s captain, Tim Hammonds.

Major, you have the controls. Maintain current air speed and heading, Colonel Santos said, as he removed his headset. Keep her steady. I’ll be right back.

Yes sir, Air Force Two’s co-pilot replied. Unbuckling his safety harness, Colonel Santos made his way out of the seat. As he was about to exit the cockpit, he turned to the co-pilot.

Relay all incoming transmissions to the Vice President’s intercom.

The Vice President and his Chief of Staff were relaxing in the main cabin discussing events of the past three days. The Vice President had hoped for better results and did everything he could to convince conference participants of the need to act now, not later.

John, can I get you something to drink? You were working the crowd nonstop and I know you throat must be a little sore, the Vice President’s Chief of Staff said.

"No thanks, I just finished some juice. I’m fine. Tom, we’ve got about fourteen hours before we land in Washington and I want to get your take of the conference. So, what do think?

John, I’m sure the members understood the importance of what you said. But in all honesty, I doubt if any of them have the political will and ability to institute the economic, political, and cultural changes they’d have to make. I just don’t see it happening. Do you?

Tom, I’m not a betting man, but I’ll wager it was the recent discovery of water in the North Pole that got their attention.

Nope, I won’t take that wager. John, I have another question. The Vice President removed his glasses and smiled at his Chief of Staff.

Tom, you’re not going ask about the tie are you?

No, I think your daughter’s choice was excellent. I was going to ask about the meeting with Vice Minister Cho.

You were there, Tom. Thank God it won’t be long. Vice Minister Cho sounded optimistic. I think the President’s going to be pleased that all his hard work is paying off. Now that North and South Korea have agreed to a power sharing formula, only a few details and timetables remain. Just think, the last remnant of the Bamboo Curtain is about to fall and we helped make it possible...that’s what it’s all about, Tom, the Vice President said.

Yes sir, I know we’re close, but North Korea has a history of making commitments and then backing out at the last minute.

I understand and you’re right. The Dear Leader does have a history, but you know, Tom, I think the key to this guy is talking to him, not at him, the Vice President replied, leaning over to loosen his shoestrings. The last administration wouldn’t even talk to him. We won’t make that mistake.

I hope you’re right, John. The Vice President loosened his tie, kicked off his shoes, and eased back in the recliner.

We’ll talk more when we meet with the President. I’m going to catch some shut-eye now. Oh and Tom, I need you to go to Capitol Hill. The protectionist trade rhetoric on both sides of the isle isn’t helping matters. Congress has to buckle-down and get this right. We won’t get a second chance.

The Vice President planned to brief his boss on conference initiatives and talks with South Korea’s Vice Minister for Reunification. Spirits were high; it was John Connor’s fifty-third birthday and he was expecting a call from his wife.

Secret Service special agent Gordon was standing and the first to see the pilot approaching the vice president. The agent’s training and experience told him something was wrong. Instinctively, Special Agent Gordon moved toward the vice president. At the same time, the vice president stood and smiled to greet his friend.

Well Bob, it’s about time. You’re the only one who hasn’t wished me happy birthday. Flashing a quick glance at Special Agent Gordon, Colonel Santos spoke in a composed, yet forceful voice.

Mr. Vice President, we have a situation, sir. I need to speak with you and Agent Gordon in private. Without further words or delay, the three men exited the main cabin and entered the Vice President’s suite. Sir, two unidentified aircraft are on an intercept course with Air Force Two.

What do we know about the aircraft, Bob? Is there a chance they’re ours?

Negative sir, we’ve got nothing out here moving at their speed.

Are you sure, Colonel? Have you confirmed that, Agent Gordon asked the pilot.

Yes sir, PACAF and CINCPACFLT confirm there are no missions or training flights scheduled in this sector. Guardian picked them up on J-STARS at 400 nautical miles from our position and that was...one minute and forty seconds ago, Colonel Santos responded looking at his watch. The unidentified aircraft are approaching at Mach speed with an ETA in twelve minutes, Mr. Vice President.

Air Force Two, this is Guardian, repeat, this is Guardian. Raptors en route, repeat Raptors en route. Do you copy, Air Force Two, over?

Roger, Guardian.

Air Force Two, this is Guardian. Descend to one-five-zero-zero zero feet and come to heading two-seven-five, over.

Acknowledged, Guardian. Air Force Two descending to one-five-zero-zero-zero feet; new heading two-seven-five. Air Force Two’s co-pilot reset the navigation controls and eased the yoke forward, initiating the course and altitude change.

Agent Gordon, do you—

I know the procedures, Colonel. Recommend you return to the cockpit and await instructions. I’ll let you know when Bulldog is ready. Agent Gordon had already opened the storage compartment and was busy inventorying the contents when Colonel Santos started to speak.

Mr. Vice President, I think—

Bob, do what you do best. Get us the hell away from whatever is coming.

Yes sir. Colonel Santos knew that what the Vice President asked was impossible.

Vampire Leader, this is Guardian; do you copy, over?

Loud and clear Guardian, the twenty-eight-year-old F-22 pilot responded.

Vampire Leader, we estimate your ETA at Intercept Authorization Code coordinates in fifteen minutes, confirm, over. The U.S.’s 44th Fighter Squadron flight leader knew where to find Air Force Two. Help was on the way.

That’s a Roger, Guardian. I have Air Force Two and bogies on-scope; ETA in fifteen point three minutes. What the hell! The images that were seconds ago visible on the flight leader’s heads-up-display had vanished. Guardian, the bogies are gone.

Roger that, we lost them too, the AWACS Operations Control Officer responded, then adjusted the radar display, trying to reacquire the unidentified aircraft. Vampire Leader this is Guardian. Change heading to zero-niner-zero; repeat, zero-niner-zero; do you copy, over?

Affirmative, Guardian. Vampire Leader to colony, on my Mark come to heading zero-niner-zero, over.

Roger, the three F-22 pilots responded. Air Force Two and Guardian watched as the six blips changed direction as ordered.

Vampire Leader to colony; on my Mark, increase to Mach 2. Keep it tight, vampires. Mach 2 in 3...2...1, Mark. Vampire Leader knew if the unidentified aircraft maintained current speed and heading, they’d be in range of Air Force Two in just under eight minutes. He also knew it would take his birds of prey another ten minutes to get within range of the unidentified aircraft. Unleashing their talons, AIM-120, air-to-air missiles wasn’t an option until then. As the F-22’s climbed to altitude, Vampire Leader thought to himself, we’ve gotta haul ass.

Remember, Mr. Vice President when you exit the aircraft tuck your chin and cross your arms, holding them firmly against your chest. We’ll exit with you and be by your side on the way down, Agent Gordon said.

Have you done this before?

Yes sir, twice during agency training exercises.

Well, I guess the procedure works, you’re still here.

Yes sir, it works, Agent Gordon replied, in a reassuring tone. Mr. Vice President, ten seconds after you exit the aircraft, the suit’s main parachute will automatically deploy. If the main chute should fail, the suit’s secondary chute will deploy. Do you understand, Mr. Vice President?

Yes, but I have one question. What if the secondary chute doesn’t open, what then?

Not to worry sir, we’ll be tethered on either side of you. Our chutes will deploy insuring as safe a landing as possible. Agent Thomas was the other Agent assigned to Air Force Two. He and Agent Gordon had served together on many occasions. Both men were highly respected for their skills and many years of dedicated service. The Vice President could rest assured. He was with two of the Secret Service’s finest.

Mr. Vice President, just before touchdown the suit will inflate and function as self-contained survival chamber, keeping you dry and from going under. Sir, I reviewed the training records prior to boarding the flight and saw that you were trained on the suit’s operation. Is that correct, sir?

Yes, I did, I mean I was, but right now I’m not sure I can remember much.

We’ll be with you the whole way, sir. As soon as we’re in the water, I’ll give you a quick refresher course on the suit’s communications and life-support systems.

Based on a design for suits worn by Astronauts during space walks, NASA developed this unique garment for the nation’s top two officers. The suit would keep the occupant afloat and provided a self-contained twelve-hour air supply. The suit was equipped with a two-way radio programmed to scramble present Secret Service frequencies. Scrambling Secret Service radio frequencies was SOP since the discovery that designator code names and frequencies were leaked and posted on the internet. For temporary nourishment, a high protein drink and energy bars were located in the suit’s internal pockets. To ensure recovery teams found the suit and its occupant, a GPS and emergency beacon were incorporated in the helmet.

Agents Gordon and Roberts were almost finished preparing the Vice President and themselves to exit Air Force Two.

There, Agent Gordon said, as he checked the President’s suit. All we have to do now, Mr. Vice President is to secure the helmet to the suit and lock the face shield. Using his helmet as a guide, Agent Gordon showed the Vice President how. Mr. Vice President, can you hear me?

Yes, but it’s a little loud?

It’s fine, Mr. Vice President. We’re about ready, sir. If you’ll please stand here, I’ll notify Colonel Santos. Agent Gordon pointed to the floor, three paces back from the embroidered seal of the Vice President of the United States.

Guardian and Air Force Two, this is Vampire Leader; the bogies have reappeared.

Roger, Vampire Leader. J-STARS tracking, the AWACS responded. Just before he spoke, Vampire Leader looked at the picture of the cheerleader taped below the HUD, wondering if he’d be back in time to watch Dallas kick the shit out of Washington, or so he hoped.

Vampire Leader to unidentified aircraft; this is the United States Air Force, state your intentions. I repeat, this is the United States Air Force, state your intentions.

Tensions grew as mille seconds ticked by without a response. Vampire Leader wondered who they were and why they’d disappeared, and then reappeared without warning. Unidentified aircraft, this is the United States Air Force. Change course immediately. I am authorized to use deadly force. Vampire Leader hoped the bandits didn’t know the Raptors weren’t in range yet. I repeat, change course.

Why haven’t they launched? Before Vampire Leader could finish his thought, the realization and horror of the unfolding events struck. The bandits were well within range of Air Force Two and had no intentions of launching missiles. Vampire Leader knew his words wouldn’t be the intervening force to deter this aggressor, but that’s all he had for another two minutes; he had to try.

Mr. Vice President, if you would please step aside, sir. Taking a key from his pocket, Agent Gordon inserted it in the slot, lifted the protective cover on the panel, and pressed the button.

The carpet muffled the sound of the explosive bolts, as the exit hatch in the belly of Air Force Two was thrust downward toward the churning abyss below. The two Secret Service Agents stood on either side of the Vice President, attaching the safety lines to his suit. "We’ll be with you all the way, sir.

Break off assholes. Vampire Leader’s last transmission to the unidentified aircraft was in vain. Suddenly, the two blips disappeared from his HUD, as did Air Force Two. It was then that he realized his horrific thought had come to life. Growing up as a kid, he’d watched the WWII documentaries on TV. He knew why the bandits hadn’t launched their missiles. One chilling word from the past took hold, kamikaze.

Air Force Two, this is Vampire Leader. Do you copy? Repeat, do you copy? There was no response from Air Force Two. Vampire Leader to Guardian, they’re gone.

Confirmed, Vampire Leader. J-STARS lost tracking. The Colony is all we’re picking up.

Had the United States lost its second highest officer to an unprovoked attack in international airspace? This was no accident; it was calculated and deliberate, but why? What would anyone gain by taking the life a statesman who devoted his career to mending fences and nations? It didn’t make sense.

A career is born in public, talent in private.

Marilyn Monroe

1

special agent forbes

Michael Forbes was a nomad from birth. Born in Tel Aviv on a hot summer evening in 1959, he’d lived in places others could only dream about. The son of a diplomat, Michael grew up in the world of international affairs and the high-life. Held in a father’s loving arms, the infant Forbes was at the White House the day President Kennedy administered the Oath of Office to his mother, the new United States Ambassador to Italy.

For the most part, it was a good life growing up the son of an Ambassador, although to Michael it seemed her time was mostly spent with people speaking in languages he hadn’t yet mastered. Still, he understood the importance of her job and accepted it. Karen Forbes made the most of her time spent with Michael. Memories of their times together are locked safely away in a secret place; only he has the key. Later in life, Michael would tell those who asked, yes, we had some great times together; my mom was one of my two best friends growing up.

If his mother was one of his best friends, there could be no doubt of the other, his father, John Forbes. Their relationship was the ideal father-son relationship, bound by an unmistakable and real love for one another.

Michael and his dad spent hour upon hour together doing things that fathers and sons do. Fishing was fishing; the Nile would do as long as he didn’t snag a crock. Michael did have a problem learning baseball and hitting a golf ball; grounders didn’t roll straight and Egypt was one big sand trap.

Of all the things he and his father did together, Michael enjoyed two activities the most; playing chess and going to the range. Michael was a natural with handguns and shoulder arms alike. The exploding sound of the weapon discharging and recoil did take some getting used to, but never stopped the adolescent Forbes from wanting to learn. The smell of expended rounds in the air, the awesomeness of the .45 caliber in his hands, the cleaning, reading, and more cleaning, Michael loved it. Not only did his father teach Michael how to handle and fire a weapon, he taught his son the psychology of weapons.

Respect them always and understand the partnership, his father would say. Watching John Forbes instruct Michael in the handling and care of weapons was like watching a Marine Drill Sergeant teaching a new recruit with one big exception. His father never raised his voice. The senior Forbes always displayed a quiet forcefulness and professionalism in his teachings. Even so, range-time demanded discipline and required a great deal of concentration. This was of no consequence to Michael; he was with his father doing something they both enjoyed.

Unlike the range, seeming so natural to Michael, chess was something that didn’t sink in at first. For one thing, this was a game. It was fun to play with his father, but for some reason after each match, Michael felt drained, as if he’d been in a life and death struggle.

Remember Michael, protecting your King and defeating your opponent is made simpler by getting into your advisory’s head. You have to learn how he thinks, his father told him. You’ve got to anticipate his every move then force him into moves of your choosing, not his. Here’s the tricky part, son. You have to setup avenues of attack and diversions, but never give away your attack route. When it’s time, Michael, do not hesitate, go for the kill; you may not get a second change. And remember; protect your King at all costs.

It took a while, but once the light went on, chess became second nature to Michael, as his father soon discovered, rarely defeating his son. Later in life, Michael would learn the true meaning of his father’s words.

Michael’s early life choices put him on the path leading to the doors of the U.S. Secret Service, but not before signing-up with United States Marine Corps, training to be a Military Police Investigator. Michael liked the job and the people he worked with, but nearing the end of his first enlistment, he wanted a change. With no guarantees, Michael reenlisted and applied for a position with the Marine Security Guard Battalion. His first assignment introduced him to a world of turbulence and failed diplomacy in the Middle East.

Serving at the U.S. Embassy in Tehran, Michael didn’t understand the why of the unfolding events, not that it mattered. He was a Marine doing his job; he just didn’t understand. His mother would never have let it get out-of-hand like this.

Sergeant Forbes took charge when hostile Iranian factions laying siege to the U.S. Embassy killed his Detachment Commander. Shouting orders and firing smoke canisters, Sergeant Forbes and the other Marines helped members of the U.S. Delegation, and families escape to waiting helicopters within the compound. Under siege, with no relief in sight, Michael had no choice.

Take the left flank; I’ve got the right; fire over their heads. When Michael saw weapons raised by the charging mass of screaming Iranians and heard the sound of automatic weapons fire ricocheting off the parapets, he knew American lives and property were in immediate danger. The rules of engagement were clear. Center mass, no head shots...fire!

While in the military, Michael used his spare time taking college correspondence courses when and where he could, always anxious to learn something new. After leaving the Marine Corps, Michael completed his studies at the University of Texas at Arlington where he received a degree in Sociology, graduating in the upper third of this class. Although he wasn’t first in his class, Michael was proud of the hard work he’d put in, and what he’d accomplished, as were his parents. Even before graduating, Michael had decided what he wanted to do next. With diploma in hand, he sat down and filled out the application.

Becoming a member of the U.S. Secret Service is a lengthy and extremely competitive process, open to U.S. citizens only. Applicants are subjected to a battery of written and verbal tests to determine suitability. Michael had to undergo mental and physical screening, as well as submit to, and pass an in-depth background investigation.

Michael Forbes met all the qualifications and like every new recruit, his first assignment was to the Federal Law Enforcement Training Center in Glynco, Georgia for the eleven-week Criminal Investigator Training Program. Criminal Law Procedures,