by Brad Carlson
“Hey, Moshe, good to see you again,” David Eitan said to Jackson, in reference to the famous one-eyed Israeli general, Moshe Dayan.
“You, too, David. Didn’t realize Tamir was bringing everyone in.”
“Well, when we heard you were going to be here, we couldn’t exactly stay away,” Zivah added. “I must say, Arielle is definitely treating you right. That suit fits you perfectly in all the right places—and I do mean all the right places!”
“Zivah!” Dani yelled out across Tamir’s office.
“What? Just sayin’ that you sure know how to dress your man,” she added with a sly grin and a wink at Jackson. “I must say, that eye patch adds a little something to the outfit, Arielle.”
“Okay, everyone, let’s find a seat. I think you all know why I called you in here,” Tamir began. “We’ll be raiding Raqqa and this will be a combined operation with the Americans. However, unlike Latakia, and Tehran, I expect this one to be a bit dicier. Last time, we caught everyone by surprise. This time, I think everyone in the world knows that we will be coming after our pilots and the Americans after their nukes and their own hostages, foremost of which are the Secretaries of State and Defense,” Tamir confirmed to the group, and getting some stunned looks. “That’s right. This just happened overnight. Now, the mere thought of them treating our pilots the same way they treated the Jordanian pilot raises issues I don’t even want to begin to contemplate. The only real question, is when we’re going. We’ve had two teams on the ground in Raqqa all this week looking things over. This past Tuesday we spotted the truck bringing our men up from Palmyra, and then the whole world saw the spectacle Baghdadi put on. From what we can tell, the guys have never left the Al-Qadim Mosque. About an hour and a half ago, we spotted the Americans’ arrival. They were also immediately directed to the same mosque. We haven’t seen any of them leave this place so we believe that everyone is still there. That is a good thing, though I expect it to be more heavily defended, especially now that they have both the American Secretary of State and their Secretary of Defense. I’m told the Americans know where the nukes are at and they are relatively close to the hostages—which may, or may not, be a good thing. It may not as it might complicate the logistics of the entire operation. I have a meeting with Colonel Elliott Morrison, the US military attaché, and the rest of the General Staff in a few minutes. We’ll be coordinating everything with him and General Frank Logan, who’s in charge of their Joint Special Operations Command. However, for now, Yoni and David, both of your teams will be working on our pilots’ rescue. Zivah, you’re with them. I’d like to see the foundation of an operational plan later this afternoon. Once you have that, we’ll hook up with Logan’s staff and start to get everything coordinated. Since the Americans have considerably more at stake with this, don’t be surprised if this becomes an entirely US operation. However, I still want an operational plan put together just in case things fall apart on their end. Time is obviously of the essence. Arielle, I know you’re Yoni’s XO but you’ll be working directly with the Americans on this. They don’t have as many men on their teams as they used to that are familiar with nuclear weapons—frankly, I’m not sure they have any—so I went ahead and offered your services to General Logan. I am expecting that you’ll either have access to the B-61 or its blueprints just in case you need to work on one.”
“General,” Stonewall interrupted, “they’ll never give Dani a copy of the schematics for the B-61.”
“No, I don’t expect they will. However, your Air Force stores several of them at Aviano in Italy, as well as a few other bases throughout Europe—and these things require constant maintenance. Arielle, I’m sending you up to Aviano to get some hands on experience right away. This is actually what I’ve proposed to Jim.”
“Not a problem, sir,” Arielle replied.
“I didn’t think it would be. When the time comes, you’ll be with Stonewall and whoever they assign to the recovery operation.”
“When do I leave?”
“Go ahead and get ready to go. I haven’t heard anything from Jim or anyone else so I’ll hit up General Logan as soon as I can. In the meantime, go ahead and get ready and then head over to Tel Nof. I’ll have a plane waiting for you. If Logan nixes this, I can always recall you but I want you up there this morning. The sooner you can familiarize yourself with those weapons, the better we’ll be. I don’t know how much time we’ll have before we launch this so you’ll need to get up there right away. Stonewall, you’ll be accompanying here. I would imagine they’ll want Arielle to have an escort—I sure would. It’s close to a three hour flight so you should be able to make it there before noon.”
“Understood, Tamir,” Dani replied. “We’ll see you when we get back.”
Raqqa, Syria
8:00 AM Local Time
“Good morning, Madam Secretary, Mr. Secretary,” Shishani said to Johnson and Axelsson. “I am General Mohammed Shishani, Imam Baghdadi’s chief of operations. I trust the ride over from Batman wasn’t too uncomfortable for you. When we realized we might have the opportunity for you to join us, we didn’t know what we might have for available transportation for you. I trust everything worked out.”
“Mr. Baghdadi . . .” Secretary Johnson began before getting cut off.
“Madam Secretary, you will address Imam Baghdadi as ‘Imam’ or ‘Your Excellency,’” Major Cantor interrupted.
“Imam . . . Baghdadi,” Secretary Johnson began, clearly irked not only by Cantor’s interruption but also noticing the video cameras. “I must vehemently protest the way we’ve been treated. Our plane was shot down over Turkey and nine of our staff have been killed, several others have been injured. Then, we’ve spent about the last seven hours on a couple buses while your lackeys drove us here. We haven’t slept or eaten anything since your pilots shot us down!”
“Madam Secretary,” Shishani began, “your plane was not shot down last night. If your plane had been shot down, none of you would have survived. As it is, when we realized you might be passing by, we sent out a flight to request that you land at Batman Air Base. The fact that you did not comply with our request leaves only yourselves to blame for the death of your countrymen.”
“That’s absurd,” Axelsson protested. “We were never ‘requested’ to land at Batman and you know it. One of your pilots ordered us to land. After we started our descent, he then shot up our plane.”
“General Shishani,” Colonel Marshall followed up, “I’m the remaining pilot. Our other pilot was killed when your fighters fired at us with their cannon. As the Secretary stated—after we began the descent into Batman. We were on our way in to Batman when your pilot shot our plane full of holes. He only has himself to blame for getting himself and his cohorts shot out of the sky,” she added, still clearly vexed though showing a mild sense of satisfaction at the destruction of the four Turkish F-16s.
“Yes, it is an unfortunate situation all around,” Shishani continued.
“Unfortunate!?!” Axelsson practically hollered out, almost demanding an answer.
“Unfortunate?” Secretary Johnson added almost simultaneously. “I demand that you free us immediately and arrange transportation back to the United States.”
“Secretary Johnson, you will not be going anywhere,” Baghdadi broke in, somewhat to the surprise of the Americans. “You have continually berated, chastised, condemned and humiliated me on the international scene—guards!” Baghdadi ordered. And with that, four of the guards each withdrew a razor sharp Jambiya dagger and charged towards Colonel Marshall and Secretary Johnson.
“What!?!” Secretary Johnson cried out in horror as two guards grabbed her. However, her horror suddenly changed to shock with the realization that the guards were not going to kill her but humiliate her as they proceeded to none-too-gently completely cut the clothes off of both Johnson and Marshall. Thirty seconds later, both of them were completely naked.
“Madam Secretary, it is now your turn to be humiliated. You see, I caught o
ne of my grandsons watching one of your decadent movies—I forget the name of it, Star something or other—and this princess served as a sort of trophy. You are now my trophies for all the world to see. The video of this will be released to multiple media outlets in just a few minutes. We’ll see who is humiliated before the world now. Bring them to me,” Baghdadi said, addressing the guards. “Each one of you will be on display at my side from now on.”
“You just wait,” Colonel Marshall exclaimed as two guards brought her beside Baghdadi. “There’ll be a team of SEALs coming to get us. If I’m right, they’re probably already on their way.”
“We’ll just see about that, won’t we?” Shishani replied. “Do you really think we won’t be waiting for them?”
“General, you don’t understand the SEALs—they hope you are,” Marshall icily replied.
“Please escort Secretary Axelsson back to his room” Shishani replied. “We’ll decide what to do with everyone else later. Colonel, Madam Secretary, please put these necklaces on.”
“What is this?” Marshall abruptly asked.
“My dear colonel, it is simply a device that ensures you will remain within fifty feet of me at all times. You see, rather than keep you tied up in here—which I’m loathe to do—you’ll simply wear this necklace and be free to roam about the room. However, should you be foolish enough to try and escape while wearing it, or even remove it, there is a proximity fuse and a small explosive charge in the back of it and I’m sure you do not want to experience its detonation.”
“You can’t be serious!” Johnson replied.
“Abdul, would you assist the Secretary?” Shishani asked his chief of staff.
“Don’t bother!” Johnson replied as she fastened the device around her neck.
“Abdul, how soon can you have this video ready to distribute?” Shishani asked his chief of staff.
“General, we’ll be combining this video with the one we’ve put together showing off the arrival of the C-130 and the initial unloading of the B-61s. Combining these two should get the maximum public relations benefit for us. I’ll have this ready to go within the hour.”
“Excellent, Abdul. Madam Secretary,” Shishani began, “what kind of boost do you think this will give us? You see, we’ll begin this video with many of the statements you’ve made about us, and how much of a ‘minor league’ organization our Caliphate really is. Then we’ll show the four Israeli pilots who are currently guests of ours—yes, they are in one of the many rooms below us. We’ll then show the arrival of the C-130 and show footage of the nuclear bombs we obtained from your air base at Incirlik. Finally, we’ll show you and Colonel Marshall here next to Imam al-Baghdadi—in all of your . . . glory. What kind of an impact do you think this will have on the world stage for us? Hmm? Here we are, this bunch of ‘minor leaguers’ who, in just the past week, have shot down three vaunted Israeli fighters and captured four of their airmen. I realize, we did not shoot down their planes, but the rest of the world does not know that—they will know that we have their pilots so what difference does it make? Hmm? Then, we have obtained thirty-four of your own nuclear bombs—and we’ll show every one of them—and now we have captured the American Secretaries of State and Defense? The impact this will have on the world stage will be unimaginable! We’ll have people throughout the world flocking to join the Caliphate!”
“You bastard!”
34,000’ above the Mediterranean
9:00 AM Local Time
“You guys sure know how to travel in style,” Jackson said to Dani as he admired the fully stocked galley of the Gulfstream 550. The seating in this plane truly served its occupants’ need for comfort: Four pair of Lazy-boy type seats lined the windows of each side of the plane with a table between each pair of seats. Farther down the cabin, a couch sat on one side opposite a big screen TV on the other. Then came the galley where Dani sat on what amounted to a ‘bar stool’ type of chair while Jackson prepared a couple frittatas for each of them. “I’m used to traveling in either a C-130 or a C-17. I could really get used to this.”
“Well, not everyone in the IDF gets this treatment. Being in the Unit helps but that’s not even a sure thing. Remember, just a few days ago we were in ‘your’ C-130 and had to swim to shore.”
“Oh, I remember. Just sayin’ I could get used to this. So, when’s the last time you worked on a nuke?” Jackson asked her.
“Yeah . . .” Dani began, “I’ve never really had the opportunity to work on a real one. I’ve worked with several dummy warheads. In grad school, it was all math, theory and computer problems. They never allowed us to get any hands on experience. Working on the Iranian project the last few years, I was able to keep up to date on everything but still never had the actual chance to work on a nuke. Now, it looks as though I’ll finally get the chance.”
“The million dollar question here, though, is just how secure are those nukes that ISIS grabbed?”
“It really depends on the nature of the PAL—the Permissive Action Link. Early versions of these simply kept the device from being detonated if someone managed to steal it and try to use it—they didn’t do anything to render the device tamper proof. Essentially, the PAL prevented the bomb’s immediate unauthorized use but did not necessarily prevent someone from bypassing the PAL. Basically, someone could take the bomb apart, bypass the PAL—or completely remove it—and then reassemble the device. More recent PALs are quite good about actually destroying the device if someone tries to bypass the PAL—some even have a small explosive charge designed to essentially destroy the symmetry of the nuclear fuel rendering the device incapable of nuclear fission without first being re-machined. I have my doubts that a PAL this sophisticated has been installed on any of the bombs at Incirlik given the huge push by your Defense Department to upgrade these weapons. I hope I’m wrong about that.”
“You’re not the only one . . . was that your phone? Sounded like someone texting you,” Jackson added.
“It’s Yoni. He said to turn on Al Jazeera. I wonder what’s up?”
“Hard telling, but it can’t be good—the way this week’s gone, probably an ISIS propaganda tape?”
“That’s my guess . . . sure enough,” Dani added as the video feed began. “There’s our pilots. At least they look to be in decent shape, though who knows at this point?”
“Have to admit, we’ve kind of made things easy for them on the propaganda front this week.”
“Yeah, no doubt. There’s the nukes . . . no way to tell what they’re doing with them based on this . . .” Dani added, and then both of them sat in stunned silence as four guards grabbed the American Secretary of State and another woman and completely cut their clothes off of them. They didn’t even hear the narrator extol the virtues of the Caliphate as the video portion of the feed froze with the image of Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi, sitting on what amounted to his throne, flanked by the two naked women, their fear clearly etched across their faces. “I’m going to kill him. As God as my witness, I . . . am going . . . to kill . . . that son-of-a-bitch!” Dani said, turning to Stonewall, with a fire in her eyes that he clearly recognized.
“You realize what this is going to do for them, don’t you?” Jackson asked Dani.
“Clearly. This is going to be the single biggest propaganda boost that they’ve ever had. I mean what sells success like taking on ‘The Great Satan’ and getting away with it? They’ve just told the world that they have taken on both of us and not only have they gotten away with it, they’re rubbing our noses in it. Just think about what they’ve done in the past twenty-four hours.”
“Not only that, but they’re baiting us. They know this can only have one result—it won’t be diplomatic, and they know it and they are telling the world that they know it. Now, literally, everyone in the world knows we’re coming. This raid is going to be far more dangerous, and far more deadly, than any of the politicians realize,” Jackson added as he felt a cold chill envelope him.
“Yes, it will, but don’
t even think about trying to stop me. Tamir’s the only one that could do that, and he won’t. Not for this.”
“Yeah, I know. If those nukes have been tampered with, you’re about the only one we have that knows anything about them. Well, it’s two AM in Washington. Hopefully Jim got to bed early last night. It’s going to be a long day for him,” Jackson told Dani as he punched Carmichael’s speed dial number on his sat phone. On the fourth ring he heard his friend answer.
“Stonewall, is that you?” Carmichael asked as he answered the phone.
“Yes, it is. Sorry to call you at this hour but this couldn’t wait.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that before. What’s up?” Jim asked, now fully awake.
“Did you guys talk about holding a press conference regarding the stolen nukes from Incirlik?”
“We discussed it but Fleming thought it’d be better to hold off on this until probably Monday, thinking we’d have the weekend to get everything together before we went public with this. We didn’t think ISIS would go public with this right away. I’m guessing you’re telling me ISIS just did this, right?”
“It’s more than that. Al Jazeera is airing a full two minute video clip of their ‘accomplishments’ this week. They start out taking credit for shooting down three Israeli F-16s and parade the four pilots through Raqqa, they show the arrival of the C-130 in Raqqa and then the unloading of the nukes—giving every viewer a close up of the bombs, right down to the serial numbers stenciled on the side of them—and then they bring in Secretaries Axelsson and Johnson meeting up with al-Baghdadi.”
“Have to admit, we served this all up for them on a silver platter,” Carmichael acknowledged.
“That’s not the worst of it. Towards the end of the video, they show Axelsson, Johnson and another lady identified as Lieutenant Colonel Susan Marshall—I guess she was the co-pilot. Anyway, at one point, al-Baghdadi orders his guards to grab Marshall and Secretary Johnson and, well, you’ll have to watch the video. Baghdadi treats both of them like trophies—and what do you do with trophies other than put them on display?”