by Frank Perry
Washdown was complete.
Operation Snakebite
Operation Snakebite was more complicated. They had to locate unmarked Patriot taxis and interdict without a nuclear explosion. Plans and contingencies had to be worked out, staffed, equipped and trained. The first stage of the plan involved identifying the vehicles. The second phase would isolate and neutralize the targets. The third phase required that the bombs to be rendered “safe.” These phases required different scenarios and personnel, and the timing between phases might be compressed into seconds. Peter requested that senior National Guard, DEA, FBI, Police staff be assigned to the task force for planning and execution.
Around eight o’clock Thursday evening the first reports were received from the Compass Call SIGINT aircraft then analyzed and transcribed by Ft. Huachuca. Rachael printed several copies and called a meeting, including Peter and the FBI team. The messages were transcriptions of Arabic language calls originating in the upper Midwest near Chicago. Lat/Long (latitude and longitude) coordinates were provided for most calls although the accuracy depended on many variables related to the aircraft altitude and distance to the target. Since the aircraft signals were received in three dimensions, Lat/Long/altitude, the conversion to two-dimensional coordinates was difficult and inaccurate.
As the team poured through the translations, some of the signals were garbled, probably because the aircraft was outside range of the cell phone transmitter. Since the algorithms used to identify certain dialogue strings as possible “hits” were developed by cryptographers to overcome crude attempts to disguise the true meaning, the literal translations didn’t always seem to be anything interesting. They read through most of the material and did not find anything specific to act on.
At ten o’clock, everyone was feeling the strain of several days without enough sleep, so Sam ordered everyone to leave for at least six hours to get refreshed. They were all gathered in the conference room with laptops and paper scattered everywhere. Following Sam’s directive, some of the younger people felt more hungry than tired. They were still too hyper.
Luke suggested that they walk to Pizzeria Uno, a block away. Angela agreed. Peter was about to decline until Rachael decided to go. After logging off and stacking work papers, the group going out for pizza was exiting the building in less than ten minutes. The night was temperate and clear. Initially, the two men walked behind the women, but the organization changed after a short distance and Peter found Rachael beside him as Luke slipped forward by Angela.
At the corner they waited for a signal before crossing toward the restaurant. The women tried to initiate conversation and Luke provided comic relief. Everyone appreciated being away from the ominous situation that brought them together. Peter did not say much. Keeping up with Luke’s antics was hard to match. Rachael opened discussions about movies and music, which energized everyone except Peter. She was persistent, trying to find a subject he could relate to. He appreciated her attention and finally mentioned the New England Patriots. Rachael was a big fan and a lively discussion followed. She knew the names and statistics on all the franchised players. Peter had been a fan for many years, after their amazing performances leading to four super bowls. He was equally fond and loyal to the Philadelphia Eagles, but Rachael was a New England girl.
The restaurant was partially empty and they were seated immediately in a large booth. Peter and Luke ordered beers, and the women had wine. All felt the need to unwind and no words were spoken about work. They shared two pizzas and split a salad. Conversation continued about sports in general, particularly centered on New England, which everyone knew about. Since none were Chicago natives, no one mentioned the local teams. Peter admitted being starved for television or music information, having ignored both for years. Rachael and Angela harassed him about getting in tune with his age group, which he admitted was lacking. Everyone enjoyed the time out together.
Walking back to the federal building, the two couples paired up, having separate conversations. Luke and Angela talked about their academy experiences, while Peter and Rachael talked more generally. The FBI team walked briskly, feeling the strong desire to get home for rest. Peter and Rachael were yards behind when they reached the garage. They had talked all the way from the restaurant about life in Washington and experiences they had had working for the Government. Angela offered to take Luke to the Metra station, and then offered to take Rachael to her hotel, the Holiday Inn on Harrison Street. When Rachael declined due to the distance and direction opposite the Metra stop, Peter offered to take her, which she accepted. The two couples separated.
Peter and Rachael walked together to Peter’s truck, where he opened her door first. Most men ignored the courtesy except on a date. She thanked him, without saying it wasn’t necessary. As they exited the garage, she commented that she felt relaxed for the first time in a week. Peter smiled. He had to concentrate on the street signs, since he wasn’t familiar with the downtown area. It took less than three minutes to reach her hotel.
As he drove into the circular drive leading to the main entrance, he threw the gearshift into park and walked around to her side saying, “Lady, your bed awaits.”
She smiled and kissed him on the cheek, “Chivalry becomes you!”
He was startled and speechless as she walked through the revolving door. On the drive out of town to his apartment, he could not stop thinking about her. Their moments together had been special.
Big Eyes
Returning the next morning somewhat refreshed, the team was busy again trying to correlate information when a call came in over the National Guard’s SINGGARS radio on Peter’s desk. One of the most incomprehensible facts in national security is that civil authorities and the military cannot communicate with common equipment. Only in times of national emergencies are assets shared.
Because it was a military communiqué, Peter took the call with the speaker system engaged. “Striker One, this is Big Eye, over.”
Peter pressed the handset button, “Big Eye this is Striker One, copy five by five”
“Striker One, we have positive intercept on transmission you requested, with coordinates, can you copy? Over.”
Peter said, “Good to go Big Eye. Striker One, over.”
“We traced signal at 195 degrees relative our position. At 0912.15, multiple bursts, all quiet now, over.”
Eight more traces were recorded in a short time span, which wasn’t enough time for the aircraft travel distance to get convergence of the traces.
Peter responded, “Copy Big Eye, what was your posit at intercept, over.”
The aircraft controller provided the latitude, longitude and altitude of the aircraft at the time of each signal intercept so that the ground team could begin plotting the line of the relative compass angle from the aircraft for each trace. If the aircraft covered a long distance between traces, they could compute a good target location where the traces crossed on the map. But with too little spacing between signals, the lines were almost parallel.
Peter said, “Roger all Big Eye. Please keep eyes on and notify if more follows, over.”
“Roger, Big Eye. Out.”
Angela asked, “Wadya think? Was someone testing the detonation transmitter?”
Everyone looked around for a moment. There was silent realization that the terrorists were testing the bomb receivers. The effort to distill information from both intelligence sources gained intensity. The dots on the map, indicating the crude cell phone locations, were clustered around the Aurora area. The test signal plots traversed through the same area. Tactically, it was preferable to have Compass Call on the northern side of the city if another test was made, but they were on a circular course around the city, and it could not be predicted when another transmission would occur.
Megatons in Chicago
The two Arabic-speaking men were traveling at the speed limit on Interstate 88 toward Chicago. The driver was sweating profusely and drivi
ng erratically, and the passenger felt equally distressed in the back of the taxi. Both men were armed with Russian nine-millimeter handguns and the passenger also had an AK 74. Their mission was clear; they had done a dry run of the course on Monday. They would exit the interstate in Cicero and wind through the surface streets to the target. The finality of today’s mission was wearing their nerves despite all the promises and blessings received when volunteering. They had lived in America for many years and enjoyed the life. Some of their comrades had begun families. “Allah be merciful, Allah be kind,” they recited over and over again to themselves.
The city was a mess since the President’s alert. Blockades existed on many streets and everyone was suspicious. Tempers flared easily and the streets were lined with cars that had been destroyed in accidents or rage. From the news, the hospitals were full of people injured in the panic. Smoke hung in the air and driving was nearly impossible.
Driving took four hours from Aurora to downtown. Normally, the trip took less than half that time. As they approached downtown, they maneuvered onto eastbound Ogden Avenue until they reached Madison Avenue. Turning right, the traffic was stopped dead, but they were at their target location.