Under Fire

by Fred Burton

  The SIOC was typical FBI: SSAs wearing heavily starched white shirts and blue ties walked around with their jackets off and sleeves rolled up. Multiline phones rang incessantly in the SIOC; the agents on duty shifted their eyes from computer monitors in front of them to the BlackBerrys they kept on their desks. The SSAs rushed from workstations to various offices where the OGAs, or other government agencies, were represented: the Diplomatic Security Service, the CIA, DOD, Department of Homeland Security, and a dozen or so other intelligence and law enforcement entities, each with a specific interest in the developing crisis abroad. The events unfolding in Benghazi were, in the multidimensional world of global crisis management, a critical challenge. The day had been busy with reports flowing in from Cairo and the demonstrations outside the U.S. embassy. Benghazi was clearly more than a demonstration and a chance for the Arab street to get its fifteen minutes of camera time yelling this and burning that. A rather hush-hush American diplomatic post was under attack; the likelihood of an even more covert intelligence outpost being overrun and publicly revealed was now a virtual certainty.

  The developing cyclone of events, all coinciding with the eleventh anniversary of the September 11 attacks, metastasized into a perfect storm of worst-case scenarios. Real-time perfect storms are virtually impossible to neutralize in real time; distance and dynamics sometimes thwart the most dedicated of efforts and most noble of causes.

  The most immediate objective involved getting Ambassador Stevens, IMO Smith, and the five DS agents to safety and making sure that the Annex received the protection it needed to hunker down until help could arrive or at least buy time for the CIA staffers to destroy their classified apparatus.

  * * *

  Both the CIA and the Department of Defense fielded special operations assets that could have been rushed to Benghazi to rescue personnel from both the Special Mission Compound and the Annex. The CIA fielded two top-tier special operations assets that had the resources and the tactical skill sets to secure enough of the terrain in Western Fwayhat to properly neutralize the threat to American personnel. One unit, known as the Special Activities Division, or SAD, worked directly as the covert command arm for the agency’s National Clandestine Service. SAD personnel were the super-spooks—Rambos and James Bonds put together in one top secret operative. The Special Operations Group, or SOG, a section within the SAD, was responsible for the collection of intelligence, as well as operations with the military, in countries that were hostile threats to the United States or in locations where a U.S. presence had to be covert. But there was no CIA response. The agency did indeed have personnel on the ground in Benghazi, but they weren’t under attack. And, as vulnerable as the Annex was, an assessment must have been made that the GRS personnel were more than capable of neutralizing any outside threat “in house.”*

  The Joint Special Operations Command’s two counterterrorist forces—the U.S. Army’s First Special Forces Operational Detachment–Delta, or Delta Force, and the U.S. Navy’s DevGru—always had an on-call element ready to respond anywhere in the world on an immediate basis to a critical-threat incident, a hijacking, or an incident at sea. These units traveled heavy. And when these secretive teams were given the green light to deploy, they crossed time zones with an enormous support and logistics contingent. These units were most effective when operational circumstances were optimum, such as host-nation approval and support; the last thing that a Delta or DevGru commander wanted was to land or parachute his forces into a hostile environment, only to have to fight their way toward the mission. These units were designed to react, respond, and remedy critical situations—situations that were clearly defined. These units were not designed to participate in a rapidly flowing incident that could, like Mogadishu twenty years earlier, result in disaster.

  The elite of the elite, the two-pronged dagger of JSOC, did not respond to protests and fires. Governments did not dispatch their most elite units, men who are truly not replaceable, unless the situation warranted a razor-sharp slice and not a wide-handed slap. Anyway, deploying one of the JSOC units from the continental United States would take hours.

  There was always the Marine Corps—a branch of the armed forces with an illustrious combat legacy and entrenched history with Libya. In 1987, in the aftermath of nearly twenty years of global terrorist attacks that seemed endless and without solution, the U.S. Marine Corps adhered to a presidential directive mandating all branches of the military to enhance their counterterrorist capabilities. The USMC response was the FAST, Fleet Antiterrorism Security Team, companies, which could respond quickly to incidents around the world where Americans required emergency military aid.* FAST units saw action in 1989 in Panama and in 1991 during Operation Desert Storm. FAST companies worked security in Somalia following the withdrawal of U.S. peacekeepers from Mogadishu and then secured the evacuation of the U.S. diplomatic presence in Monrovia, Liberia, during the civil war. FAST platoons provided tactical security to investigative teams following Saudi Hezbollah’s bombing of a U.S. Air Force barracks in Saudi Arabia in 1996. FAST platoons were on site immediately after the bombings of the U.S. embassies in Kenya and Tanzania in 1998; FAST marines secured the damaged USS Cole in Aden, Yemen, following the deadly attack on the warship in October 2000. They were a globally on-call force.

  The FAST unit closest to Benghazi was FAST Company Europe, which reported to the Marine Corps Security Force Regiment, II Marine Expeditionary Force. Based at the Naval Station Rota, Spain, FAST Company Europe was no stranger to crisis and response work in the Mediterranean. Secretary of Defense Leon Panetta ordered that appropriate forces respond. A task order flowed from the Pentagon to NAVSTA Rota, Spain: “Lean forward and get there as fast as you can.” The marines mustered into their transport aircraft on the tarmac in their combat fatigues and full battle kit. However, logistic challenges such as airspace and overflight clearances are not easily sorted out, especially involving a nation like Libya. Sending armed U.S. Marines into a sovereign nation became a complex foreign policy decision with multiple moving pieces between the Libyan Foreign Ministry, the Pentagon, and the State Department. The marines waited on the tarmac for their orders. The FAST platoon wouldn’t make it to Libya, to augment security at the embassy in Tripoli, until the next evening.2

  AFRICOM, headquartered at Kelley Barracks in Stuttgart, Germany, was responsible for Libya and the closest operational command to have the assets, especially special operations forces, that could respond. AFRICOM was founded in 2000, with the looking-glass forethought that Africa would become a continent of vital interest to the United States, especially as it related to the war on Islamic terrorism, and AFRICOM was announced prior to the 9/11 attacks. The hell of Mogadishu was a wake-up call to American military planners, as was the realization that Africa was so volatile, so precariously steeped in failed-state chaos, that it was an ideal petri dish inside which the plague of Islamic fundamentalism could morph into an all-encompassing pandemic. AFRICOM is tasked and equipped to handle U.S. military operations and straight-on relationships with fifty-three African nations; it covers the entire continent with the exception of Egypt, which for reasons of geopolitical importance is still the focus of U.S. Central Command, or CENTCOM. The fledgling post-revolution dysfunction that was Libya was the true personification of why AFRICOM was created—as a focal point of American military interests and operations to stem the seemingly unstoppable growth of Islamic-inspired violence, led by an implacable al-Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb. AFRICOM was General Carter F. Ham’s shop.* The general realized—before the September 11, 2012, attack—that Libya would have an intrinsic influence on the future of terrorism on the continent and especially in the northern half of the continent.

  Even though AFRICOM was closer, geographically, to Benghazi than any other major American military command center, there was still an inescapable issue of logistics. Even for AFRICOM, assembling the personnel and the aircraft, addressing the operational intelligence, and securing permission from the Libyan
government in order to respond forcefully to the developing situation in Benghazi were going to take hours. As much as technological innovations and the U.S. presence throughout the world—especially following the 9/11 attacks—had turned the planet into a condensed theater of operations for the United States and its global interests, issues of logistics and kilometers still required adequate start-up and deployment times for even the most immediate of global emergencies. There was no U.S. Air Force AC-130 gunship anywhere near the African continent that could have been diverted to fly close air support and aid rescue efforts.3 The fastest response boiled down to an unarmed drone that AFRICOM diverted from a mission “somewhere” over the continent.

  There was never a question concerning U.S. resolve or the overall capabilities of the U.S. military to respond to Benghazi. There was, however, nothing immediate about an immediate response. There were logistics and host-nation approvals to consider. An immediate response was hampered by the equation of geography and logistics.

  * * *

  Inside the State Department’s Operations Center, there was a bank of secure color video screens where senior government officials had the ability to talk to each other at the top secret level; it was an advanced and highly secure adaptation of the Skype concept for those engaged in classified videoconferencing. When news of the attack in Benghazi began to reach the various law enforcement, military, and intelligence agencies, the response could not be instantaneous or in real time; it took quite a bit of effort and time to get cabinet-level officials into these rooms for a single secure videoconference. The initial attack on the villa had taken place before the assembled appointed officials could gather and figure out what to do. Government agencies and bureaucracies are not made for speed. As many DS agents will say, “By the time the bosses get involved, it’s too late.”*

  At Foggy Bottom, Secretary of State Hillary Clinton and Undersecretary Patrick Kennedy, known simply as M. (for Management), discussed response options with John Brennan, President Obama’s national counterterrorism adviser, at the White House. The decision was made not to launch a Foreign Emergency Support Team, or FEST, from Andrews Air Force Base. FEST teams are always on call to respond to international terrorist incidents—their personnel are able to depart Andrews Air Force Base within four hours of notification. Since its inception in 1986, the FEST has deployed to more than twenty countries.

  FEST teams deploy under short-notice requests by U.S. ambassadors. They can be deployed to assist U.S. diplomatic posts with internal crises (such as Benghazi) and can also be deployed through bilateral requests to support host nations facing crises not related to or directly affecting U.S. diplomatic posts. Made up of intelligence operatives and experts from the State Department, FBI, Department of Defense, and Department of Energy, FEST’s job upon arrival at the scene is to manage operations based on its assessment of the emergency and to advise the ambassador on a subsequent course of action.

  FEST packages are multiagency security and intelligence teams sent by the U.S. government within three hours of an attack anywhere in the world to prop up, support, or provide technical assistance. The composition of the team varies, depending upon the assignment, but generally includes DS agents, intelligence analysts, JSOC operators, FBI hostage negotiators, bomb techs, and communications and military logistics experts. Once in country, the FEST mission is operational. By long-standing orders, put together by various NSC directives from the early 1980s, attacks and hostage takings at U.S. diplomatic facilities dictate a FEST response, even if the team gets turned around in the air. A little-known issue that always becomes a kludge on international terrorist attacks is the complexity of overflight and host-government clearances in order for a FEST team to move in. Country clearances are required and are worked through Foggy Bottom with the respective government permission.

  With Libya’s nascent and fairly dysfunctional government, a move would have to be unilateral and covert, without host-government knowledge. This is always the course of last resort, and such operations are conducted solely under extraordinary circumstances; the May 2011 killing of Osama bin Laden, in Abbottabad, Pakistan, where the host government’s approval was never sought, was one such undertaking. Despite what you see in the movies, the U.S. government doesn’t like to go down this path, absent extraordinary conditions. The foreign policy blowback from such unilateral moves is simply too great.

  FEST packages are usually deployed in “permissive environments” only, where local security arrangements can be coordinated and generally assured; such was the case, for example, in previous deployments to Kenya, Tanzania, and Yemen, when the host nations provided official authorizations for the American specialists to operate in their countries.

  In Benghazi, the decision to deploy FEST was held up by State, reportedly by M., because of the risk of putting American assets on the ground in a place where the local militias could not prevent another attack and where the host government could not ensure a safe and secure environment. A FEST response to Benghazi was possible only when thinking of life inside the bubble of a perfect world. The FEST assets could not have gotten to Benghazi in time to do anything for Ambassador Stevens or the DS agents under fire. It was doubtful, even in a perfect world, if the package could have arrived in Benghazi by mid-morning (local time) the following day.

  The situation report from Benghazi was still murky. Everybody wanted more eyes, visibility, and ground truth. The drone, on an unknown classified mission somewhere over North Africa, was immediately reassigned by AFRICOM to Benghazi.

  * * *

  “Real time” was a befuddling sort of term that was a cliché with many meanings. For someone sitting inside an air-conditioned command center in Washington, cradling a cup of coffee and watching men face life-threatening challenges and threats, real time provided a thirty-thousand-foot view from above. Perhaps John le Carré said it best: “A desk is a dangerous place from which to watch the world.”4

  For someone inside a besieged diplomatic compound, under fire and on fire, real time all too often translated as a day late and a dollar short. The shock and awe of the world’s most powerful military was an impotent entity when the air strike was needed five minutes ago, rather than five hours from now. The DS contingent in Benghazi fully comprehended the might of the U.S. government; they were part of that large and often slow-moving bureaucracy, but they understood the resources and scale that the U.S. government could bring to bear on any foe or to anyone in need of rescue. But for the five DS agents in Western Fwayhat, and for Ambassador Chris Stevens and IMO Sean Smith, real time was stale. Backup couldn’t come from an aircraft carrier rushing to the Gulf of Sirte from a port of call or an exercise near Gibraltar. It was about now and an hour from now.

  Support would have to come from nearby, the agents knew. It would have to come from the Annex, and it would have to come from inside Libya.

  14.

  The Fires of the Martyrs

  The armed men moved quickly into the villa, creating an unmistakable rumble of fast-paced disturbance. The front door had been locked, and it took some effort to get it open, but even the most ornate of heavy security doors will eventually give way once dozens of men use fists, hammers, and rifle butts to make entry. Finally, an RPG was employed to blow a hole through the main front door.

  The penetration of the villa was furiously violent and resembled an animal-like rage that was hard for civilized minds to fathom. It was clear that the throngs who flowed into the villa were looking for Ambassador Stevens, but they happily satisfied their appetite for destruction on anything before them.

  The attackers began to rip the upholstered furniture to shreds, and then they assaulted the main sofas; anything upholstered was ripped to shreds with daggers and with fingernails. The cushions were torn apart and thrown about with all the charm of an urban America blackout and the bloodlust of tribal genocide. Bookshelves, lighting fixtures, vases, and throw rugs were bashed and crushed with hyped-up wrath. TVs were thrown to t
he ground and stomped on with crushing force, and the kitchen was ransacked with a looter’s lust. The computers left behind, perhaps containing gigs of sensitive and possibly even classified information, were simply trashed; the gunmen didn’t even have the common sense or tactical forethought to steal the communications gear and forward the intelligence bonanza to al-Qaeda commanders in the Maghreb, in Egypt, or even in Yemen and Pakistan. Devastation was the sole order of business. Nothing else mattered.

  The Arabic voices upstairs were hard to decipher through the thick walls and raging flames of the command center at Charlie-1 gate, but it was obvious the men had no intention of leaving until they found what they were looking for.

  A. raised his M4 at the ceiling, trying to follow the footsteps of the invaders as they stomped on the shards of broken glass above. The TOC was providing him with a foreboding play-by-play of the frenetic orgy of destruction playing out in front of the villa, and B. told his colleague that they were in essence surrounded and cut off. As the gunmen searched through the house, determined to retrieve a captive, either a defiant ambassador or the corpse of one, they headed down toward the safe haven.

  All that separated A., Stevens, and Smith from the grasps of heavily armed men was a steel-reinforced security gate usually installed inside the apartments of diplomats serving in “normal” locations in order to prevent criminal intrusion.1 The metal gate wasn’t a State Department–spec FE/BR door, like the ones that were used at various entrance points and access areas in embassies and consulates that were Inman buildings. It was a commercial, off-the-shelf steel door designed to keep intruders away; it could be bolt locked from the inside, which made it an ideal stopgap security measure for locations that need an additional layer of steel to keep intruders out.

  B. wished that he could offer some glimmer of hope to the three men trapped inside the villa, but no words were needed. A. knew that unless help arrived soon, they were, to use a DS euphemism, “screwed.”