The War Stage (The Blackout War Book 2)

by Andrew Watts

  “Impressive.”

  “I love what it stands for. It is much like America, in many ways. A symbol of hope in a troubled world. A place where leaders with great vision created something special. Something that could grow into greatness.” Waleed paused. His thick eyebrows narrowed as he leaned forward. “Now we must protect it.”

  “Protect…Dubai?”

  “Yes. Because I believe that Dubai as we know it is in great danger.”

  “Why do you think Dubai is in danger?”

  Waleed said, “Chase, tell me…are you familiar with the Iranian military unit known as the Quds Force?”

  Chase knew of that unit very well. When he had operated with the SEALs in Iraq and Afghanistan, it was rumored that the Iranian Special Forces group known as the Quds Force was supplying and even assisting the anti-US militias.

  A congressional hearing in 2015 revealed that as many as five hundred American deaths could be linked to Iranian-made explosively formed penetrators, or EFPs. While the US was trying to stabilize Iraq and Afghanistan, Iran was helping to kill American troops stationed in both countries.

  One of the things that always bothered him about the media coverage of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan was that they seemed to pay little attention to the fact that Iran helped provide the funds and technical training to harm the US military.

  Chase had witnessed the use of several of these EFPs during his deployments. One such explosive device had shredded a Humvee in a convoy that he was a part of, killing two of his brother SEALs that had been riding in it. They later found evidence that Quds Force personnel had supplied those weapons.

  The anti-American militias that Quds Force had been equipping weren’t just Iraqi freedom fighters. They were a mix of jihadists from around the region. Some of the things that Chase witnessed these groups do were pure evil. They maimed and killed civilians they thought were cooperating with the Americans. These violent acts were often carried out in public, as a scare tactic, and as a way to demonstrate power.

  There were stories of fathers being shot in front of their children. Wives stoned to death in front of their husbands. Chase had once seen a four-year-old boy without a hand. When he asked one of the locals about it, they had said that his father had shaken the hand of an American soldier, and that the boy’s injury was the result.

  In Chase’s experience, only the weak and scared felt the need to prove their power by harming those without the means to protect themselves. His time in Iraq and Afghanistan made him realize that there were truly evil people in the world.

  Before going to war, he had only read about atrocities like that in the news. But seeing a TV news report and reading about an incident online was one thing. Witnessing these brutalities was another. There were truly wicked men in the world. Everyone might have been born equal. But the types of people that would cut off a child’s limb to send a message to a village—these men were his enemy.

  Chase said, “I am familiar with the Quds Force.”

  “There is an Iranian military officer that is a member of that organization. His name is Lt. Col. Bahadur Pakvar. He has a particularly brutal reputation, according to our intelligence.”

  “What does he have to do with Dubai?”

  Waleed took his phone out of his pocket and flipped through a few images before holding it out for Chase to see. “Bahadur Pakvar was spotted in Dubai two weeks ago. My sources tell me that he has been looking into several employees of the Dubai Bitcoin Exchange.”

  Chase lowered his voice. “Were any of those employees our source?”

  Waleed nodded. “I believe so. Mr. Jackson and I had hoped that it was the result of sloppy tradecraft by our asset. But Elliot told me about the Iranian politician—Gorji—how his assistant came to visit the US consulate. His revelation suggests that Iran knows about our man. And it appears that they have infiltrated the CIA in Dubai.”

  “So you are worried about his well-being? Why not just pull him?”

  “We need to wait until the exchange goes operational. Otherwise he is useless to us. We want to ensure that our monitoring systems are set up appropriately. If so, we will be able to track the new bitcoin-based currency and monitor the reserve bank. If not…well, we aren’t comfortable with that situation.”

  “I thought the UAE was part of this new currency? Why aren’t you comfortable with the setup?”

  He shifted in his seat. “The UAE’s participation is complicated. It is essentially a big trade agreement. A step toward peace in the region. Iran will be the big winner in the short term, if this new currency shift helps to stabilize their inflation rate.”

  “So again, why are you concerned about this? I guess a better question to ask would be—why did the UAE agree to participate in the first place? The Persians and the Arabs have been rivals for…well, forever, right? Why would…?”

  Waleed shook his head. “It’s about more than just Iran-UAE relations. The Dubai and UAE leadership want to move our country forward. That is their first priority…that our nation has a prosperous future. This Dubai Financial Summit, and all of the agreements that will be a part of it, are backed by China’s new competitor to the World Bank, the Asian Infrastructure Investment Bank. The newest, largest investor backed by one of the world’s only two superpowers. I told you that my leadership was filled with visionaries. They want to have the AIIB on their side. Do you know what they fund?”

  “What?”

  “Infrastructure. Roads, bridges, airports, trains…fiber-optic cables and data centers. Expensive investments. Things that the UAE will need to fund if it is to continue to thrive. So the UAE leadership wants to keep them happy. This is their first investment in the Middle East. The man the Chinese have sent over, Cheng Jinshan…you have heard of him?”

  “I can’t say that I have.”

  “A savvy investor. A multibillionaire. He is the one pushing the Chinese to finance in all of this bitcoin-backed currency. He is the reason this is all happening. And I’m somewhat embarrassed to admit, he is the reason that my leadership is falling all over themselves to ensure that there are no hiccups. My job is to keep us safe. The decision has been made to proceed with the Dubai Financial Summit Agreements. I voiced my concerns. Now I need to make sure that there is no Trojan horse built into the system.”

  “I understand.”

  “So you see…I can’t pull out our source in the Dubai Bitcoin Exchange. We need him, and his information.”

  “Can he just email it to us?”

  “No. There can’t be an electronic trail. It will be a face-to-face meeting. It’s set up to occur in three days’ time. You’ll accompany me and transport the information back to your team.”

  “So how do we keep this Pakvar fellow from getting hold of your man?”

  “In my opinion, we need to find Pakvar first.”

  “And how do we do that?”

  “We ask your new Iranian friend. I suspect he can help us.”

  Chase took another sip of his drink. The ice clinked in the glass as he placed it back down on the table. He said, “The one that asked for me? The politician’s assistant?”

  “That’s the one.”

  Chapter 4

  Chase awoke to a ringing phone next to his soft bed at the Four Seasons. Bright sunlight shone in from behind the curtains. He squinted and could make out the beach. A few tourists were already sunning themselves outside.

  He picked up the phone.

  “Good morning, Mr. Manning. I trust that you are enjoying your stay at the Four Seasons?”

  It was Waleed.

  “Very much.”

  “Excellent. I have asked them to send up your breakfast. Please plan to meet me at ten o’clock in the lobby. From there, we will leave to meet Gorji’s assistant. It will be your show.”

  “We have a meeting set up already? How did you manage that?”

  “I have many friends in this city. There is little that I cannot do.”

  Chase agreed to meet him and
hung up. He looked at his watch. It was just before eight. He opened his duffle bag and threw on his running shoes and a gym outfit. He spent the next hour working out. The hotel’s fitness center had hardwood floors, brand-new equipment, and a view that overlooked the Gulf. It was empty. And it was heaven, for a gym rat like Chase.

  When he came back, a cart had been wheeled to his room with several plates of hot food. Assorted chilled juices. Smoothies. A grilled tomato. Spiced hashed browns with eggs benedict. A full basket of fresh fruit. Another full basket of croissants and muffins. Three different types of sausages. And a large container of hot coffee.

  Perhaps Elliot was right about the high roller thing. This was somewhat better than what he had grown accustomed to while fighting ISIS in Iraq. He turned the TV on to a news channel and ate.

  “The Asian Infrastructure Investment Bank officials have hinted that further talks are underway with several Asian countries regarding future adoption of the new bitcoin-backed currency. The value of bitcoin has been climbing steadily over the past few weeks to new record highs.

  “In other news, Iranian naval vessels have continued to step up their activity level in the Straits of Hormuz and the Arabian Gulf. One Iranian missile boat conducted a test fire of unguided rockets only fifteen hundred yards from the US aircraft carrier Truman. The USS Porter, the ship at the heart of the recent controversy, is still in port in Dubai. US officials say that she will remain there until the investigation and repairs are finished.”

  Chase listened to the story and sighed, thinking about his father. It was a damn shame that he was to be the scapegoat in this mess.

  He finished eating, showered, and got ready for the day. At ten o’clock sharp he walked into the hotel lobby wearing khakis and a button-down shirt. Waleed’s security man was waiting there. He directed Chase to a running black Mercedes S600, just outside the hotel entrance. The driver opened a rear door for Chase. Waleed was sitting in one of the rear seats, reading on his tablet.

  “Good morning, Mr. Manning.”

  “Good morning. Where are we going to meet him?”

  “Near the fountains.”

  “Now?”

  Waleed nodded.

  The driver and security man got in the front seats. The V-12 engine whirred to life. Seconds later, the sleek black car sped through the city. They headed towards the towering Burj Khalifa.

  Once there, Chase followed Waleed. Under the Burj Khalifa’s shadow sat a nine-hundred-foot-long man-made pond. Enormous fountains sprayed from the pond, shooting hundreds of feet up into the air before they plummeted back into the aquamarine water below. Hundreds of tourists were gathered to watch. They held their phones up, taking pictures and video.

  Chase said, “It reminds me of the Bellagio in Las Vegas.”

  Waleed replied, “It should. It was the same builders. We paid them several hundred million US dollars to make this. It’s one of the biggest landmarks in the city.”

  Sweat began collecting on Chase’s forehead. It was, as always, incredibly hot. Chase was glad when Waleed kept walking past the fountains and into a beige building with the words Souk Al Bahar written on the entrance.

  The Souk was situated just next to the Dubai Mall. In contrast to the Dubai Mall’s modern, luxurious feel, the Souk was richly decorated, yet kept a traditional Arabic theme to it. Arched ceilings and gold decorations gave it the appearance of an Arabic palace or a temple. It was filled with small gold and diamond shops. Every price here was negotiable, Chase knew. Both the customers and the storekeepers loved the game of bargaining for the best deal.

  Waleed pointed to one of the shops. “There. He is inside. I will wait here.”

  “You aren’t coming?”

  “No. He didn’t ask to see me. It’s you that he wishes to speak with. I will to keep an eye out for any sign of trouble.”

  “Alright. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  He entered the jewelry store and headed to the back of the shop, where he saw a frail man in a suit watching him. The man had a nervous look. There was no sign of anyone else in the store, including the shopkeeper.

  “Mr. Manning. Good day.” The man held out his hand and Chase shook it. “I represent Mr. Ahmad Gorji.”

  “Yes, I have been told.”

  “I have been asked to make contact with you on a very serious matter.”

  Chase said, “Please excuse my caution. But how do I know that you truly represent Mr. Gorji?”

  “I assume that by now, your Mr. Jackson has looked into my background?”

  He had. Chase said, “We know that you work for Mr. Gorji, as his personal assistant. I recognize the picture I was given, so I know that you are who you say you are. But I don’t know that you actually speak for Mr. Gorji. Why has he not come himself?”

  The man thought about that. “I understand. I promise you that I am loyal to Mr. Gorji. Mr. Gorji does wish to speak with you in person. But this will be a great risk for him. You must understand—a man in his position…he needs assurances from you before he will agree to a face-to-face meeting.”

  Chase said, “And why does he want to speak with me?”

  The man looked around the empty shop. Nervous eyes. His took a step closer to Chase. His voice was barely a whisper. “I am to give you the following message.”

  “Alright, I’m listening.”

  “You already know that you have a traitor in your organization. We gave Mr. Jackson the CIA code name of your source within the Dubai Financial Exchange. We do not know who your traitor is, but we know that there are certain parties that are trying to find out his identity.”

  “Who is trying to find out his identity?” Chase hoped to get knowledge of Pakvar.

  The man held up a hand. “I am to tell you that we have a list of others.”

  Chase froze. “A list of other what?”

  “Other traitors.”

  He tried to appear calm. “Please elaborate…tell me more.”

  “There is a list of names. Americans. Each of them is an expert in their field—defense, intelligence, politics, military strategy, and satellites. Communications and information technology. Many subjects that would be of great value to an enemy of the United States.”

  He looked around again and then back at Chase. Fear in his eyes. As if he was afraid someone was about to come in and take him away.

  “Go on.”

  “These people are providing information to help plan an attack on the United States.”

  Chase’s eyes narrowed. “They are giving secrets to Iran?”

  “Not exactly. Mr. Gorji wants peace. Many in Iran do not. There are multiple circles of power in the Iranian nation. But I assure you, this list of American names is not the property of the Iranian government.”

  “Who has the list? Who is it for?”

  “People on an island.”

  “What island?”

  “Abu Musa.”

  “Then it is Iran.”

  “No. Mr. Gorji has come across this list. But this list, and its purpose, are not supported by the Iranian government. Our two nations have enough problems between us. Mr. Gorji recognizes that if Iran is ever to prosper, we must repair our relationship with the West. We are telling you this as a sign of good faith. And because we need your help. Some of the people involved are Iranian. But please be assured, the people who created this list are not Iranian.”

  “Then who are they?”

  “I don’t have that information.”

  “Does Gorji?”

  He didn’t answer.

  Chase scoffed. “You said they were planning an attack. What is the target?”

  “I do not have that information.”

  “When is the attack planned?”

  “I do not know.”

  “Why would a group of Americans do this? Why would they betray their country?”

  “I don’t know that either. It is best that you speak with Mr. Gorji.”

  “Do you know who the person is that provi
ded our source at the Dubai Financial Exchange to Iran?”

  The man said, “I have told you, this is not the Iranian government that is working against you. But I still do not know who in your organization is responsible for the leak.”

  Chase crossed his arms. “What can you give me?”

  “Mr. Gorji wants to trade this list. The list of additional names is what he has. This is the help that we can provide.”

  Now the negotiation.

  “Didn’t you just tell me that this was in good faith?”

  “Notification that the list exists has been given in good faith. Delivery of the names of your American traitors…that will cost you.”

  “What does Gorji want in return?”

  “The people that have created this list…the people on Abu Musa…they have become a problem for Iran. We would like to provide you the entire list in return for American assistance in resolving this issue.”

  “What does that mean? Assistance in resolving this issue?”

  “The group that generated this list of American traitors—we would like to see them displaced, without Iran having to take any action.”

  Chase tried to follow. “I don’t understand.”

  “Mr. Gorji can explain further. We just need to know that you will consider helping us. Then I can set up a meeting between you and Mr. Gorji.”

  “Why would Gorji want the US to remove this group on Abu Musa? That island, if I’m not mistaken, is under Iranian control. Why would Gorji want—”

  “It is not just Mr. Gorji who is asking.”

  “Who else, then? Who else is asking for our assistance?”

  “Mr. Gorji’s superior.”

  “And who is that?”

  He cleared his throat. “The Supreme Leader of Iran.”

  Chase paused. Then he said, “You are telling me that the Supreme Leader of Iran is asking for help from the United States? Have you seen the news? Iran is claiming that we just sank one of your patrol boats. The IRGC Navy just test-fired rockets fifteen hundred yards from a US aircraft carrier in the Straits of Hormuz. To put it bluntly, Iran officially hates us.”