Third World War

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Authors: Unknown
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    Outside Pyongyang, the pilot took the helicopter up, heading further and further into the highest mountains in the country. A brilliant panorama of forests and hillsides covered in snow, of tumbling waterfalls and icicles and mountain passes with deep-blue winter lakes stretched ahead.
    *****
    Just before landing, Park instructed the pilot to make another radio transmission stating clearly their coordinates. He wanted the United States to know his destination. Officially, it was known as the Kanggye No. 26 General Plant. But this was a huge underground military facility, which even a nuclear bomb could never harm. The helicopter turned into the breeze and the pilot set it down. Park, in full military fatigues, stepped out and stood, head unbowed, by the whirring rotor blades.
    A general in charge of the plant led the greeting party of scientists and technicians, dressed in the neatly laundered grey tunics of the Korean Workers' Party or the clear white of a laboratory coat. These were the men and women who had brought Park so close to achieving his ambition.
    Park stepped into a lift. On the descent it stopped twice in security airlocks before delivering him to the control room from where he would conduct the war. The room was packed with people, lined up in formation, amid work stations and surrounded by walls of computerized screens. As Park stepped on to the platform, a huge picture of Kim Il-sung appeared, wrapped around the whole wall.
    Park bowed at the image and cheers echoed round the room. He left through a side door into a small empty room, where he took off his uniform and held up his arms while he was dressed in an insulated suit, breathing apparatus and a radio and earpiece in the helmet. He stepped into a glass antechamber. On the other side he was met by men, also in protective clothing. Row after row of single ultraviolet bulbs stretched back as far as he could see. They provided the only light in the laboratory.
    'General,' he heard the voice of a scientist begin in his earpiece. 'Please turn to your right and follow me.' He followed, walking between a row of lights, each bulb covering a cluster of eggs in a tray. They were in a sort of atrium. Far above was a ceiling. Five different levels of the laboratory ringed the outer wall. The first two were open. The upper levels were sealed with reinforced glass. Every twenty metres gauges told the temperature, humidity, air pressure and content of the atmosphere, including the level of hazardous materials.
    Right at the top, he knew, was the lethal zone, where skin or lung contact with a virus, such as Ebola, or a chemical, like sarin, would lead to instant death. Below that were killer bacteria - anthrax, tularaemia, Rift Valley Fever and others. For years, his scientists had tried but failed to design an effective delivery system to carry the weapons on an intercontinental ballistic missile.
    Park was led further into an area freshly hewn out of the underground chamber. The scientist stopped at a door and showed Park into another airlock. Once through, they entered an office. It was a practical room with two telephones, newspapers left on the top of a desk, a notice board with work rotas, political slogans and instructions for escape in case of fire. Four empty cups stood unwashed in a sink and cigarette butts filled an ashtray. The wall to the left showed a picture of Kim Il-sung. Faint martial music played through a speaker in the ceiling.
    'You can take off your helmet now,' said the scientist. He removed his own, took off his spectacles and wiped them on a paper towel. 'General Park,' he said holding out his hand. 'My name is Li Pak. I am the senior virologist. It is a privilege to show you around.'
    'So the deliveries from Australia and Russia were successful?' asked Park. He handed Li his helmet and let him unplug the headset from his shoulder.
    'Indeed,' said Li enthusiastically. He pulled down a wall chart and switched on a laser torch, which he

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