A Touch Of War

by Isaac Stormm

  She put her hands on his shoulders and started massaging them. A tear made its way down her cheek. “It’ll be alright.” Her lips quivered. “We’ll get through this.”

  “In a bad way,” he shot back. He looked right at her, the stare burning through her sadness. “I’m not going to lie to you. I am afraid of the future. Not since World War II have we faced such grave dangers.” He sniffled and shook his head, realizing he’d let himself go too far with her. “Look. Uh, you forget about what I said. You never saw me this way, understand?”

  “What will you do next?”

  He wanted her to reassure him, but knew she was just trying to get him away from this emotional state as much as she was. “Talk to my people. Call Grozner while I’m in the situation room. I’ll put it on speaker. I want everyone there to hear. He and I may become joined at the hip over this. And I’m going to let him know that I personally consider this a stab in the back.” He got up and headed for the closet. Boy will he know, he thought.

  Tel Aviv

  Prime Minister’s office

  Grozner read over the statement he would give to the nation this morning. He intended to do it right there sitting at his desk. Besides the statement he released to the world upon conclusion of the operation, this one would be more elaborate and mention the United States as Israel’s greatest ally. He knew the phone call with Anderson was going to be harsh. He expected that. He would not argue with him. Just let him rant. He had far more important things to do.

  White House

  Situation room

  12:03 A.M.

  “All of us here?” Anderson knew they were. He just said that, making sure everybody knew he was still brooding. “As you are aware from your briefing, the Israelis are at war. And we will be at war, too, I’m afraid. I expect the Iranians to get on the airwaves and start saying we were accomplices in this. And of course activate Hezbollah terror cells around the globe to strike us. Despite that, I’m going to throw something on the table that many of you may not agree with.” He inhaled deeply and let out a resigned side. “No matter if they attack us, I want us to be working behind the scenes on the diplomatic front staying in contact with their people. The first place we’re going to do that is with the U.N. envoys. They are going to be our conduit to the Iranian leadership. If they choose not to, we’ll have to look to Europe. I’m also going to get the U.N. onboard. Have them apply pressure too. If this is going to go full bore, I want Israel to be the one that fights it, not necessarily us unless were defending ourselves. If the time comes that we should engage in offensive actions, we’ll get there when I feel we need to.” He shook his head, looking down at the table. “I know your first perceptions of what I’ve just said may indicate that I’m demonstrating a kind of weakness by not standing side by side as I stated we would in the past. But, I also never felt we would be stabbed in the back, that’s really what I feel this is like, when we had an opportunity, slim though it may have been, to get things moving again on the diplomatic front. Now, I’m open to your views.”

  “We’ll increase our surveillance efforts within our borders,” Mitchell said. “We will also step up our monitoring of the airwaves worldwide. What we have to assume is they’ll try to carry out their threat to shut down the Persian Gulf. In that case, we won’t have a choice but to use military action.”

  “The perfect crime,” Mason said. “They know we’ll have to get involved.”

  “All the more reason to engage them through diplomatic means,” Anderson stepped in.

  “They could take it as a sign of cold feet. You know how that part of the world thinks. They could use it as propaganda,” Mason replied.

  He was right. Anderson knew his overtures could be turned on him. Yet, it was still too risky not to try. “Maybe.”

  The laptop buzzed. “Prime Minister Grozner is on the line, sir,” the voice said.

  “Put him on.”

  Grozner appeared surrounded by his cabinet. It then zoomed onto his face. “Mr. President, as you are aware we attacked Iran tonight. I know you are tremendously displeased with Israel, but please hear me out. I never wanted to go to war with anyone. Neither did any sitting here with me. It’s just the situation became so grave that I had to act. I ask that you please keep that in mind during our conversation.”

  “Mr. Grozner, I understand things from your standpoint. I really do. But know military action should never be taken unless all avenues are exhausted. We may not have had much of a chance to succeed diplomatically, but I firmly believe that that door remained open until tonight.”

  “You know as well as I do, that the Iranians have been stalling for years. They were simply going to use the moment to stall some more.”

  “Perhaps. But I would’ve been a fool not to try and achieve something.”

  “I had to save my country. I’m sorry, but there was no alternative. Perhaps if the United States were under such threat it would be easier for you to understand.”

  “Perhaps. But I would still exhaust all opportunities if they existed.”

  “My hope, Mr. President, as this thing unfolds, that one day you will view it as justified.” He paused and added, “If you’ll excuse me, sir, I have other matters I must attend to now.” The screen went blank.

  “That was quick,” Mason said.

  “Just as well. I really didn’t want to talk to him very long anyway. Now the pressing thing for us is to look at the endgame for this thing. Israel will perform well, as it always does. And I have absolute faith in our Armed Forces doing the same. It’s the unpredictability of this type of warfare that bothers me. Any kind of conventional threats we have no problem with. But terrorism being committed every other day in the U.S. by sleeper cells will be almost impossible to stop. And with that, we’ll have nationwide panic. Maybe even having to declare martial law if it gets so bad. However, that’s only in an extreme circumstance. I want life to go on as normal as possible for everybody. In fact, I’m going to go on the airwaves and tell the people that though there is an elevated threat of terrorism, go on about your daily activities.”

  “What of our Special Forces teams in Iraq fighting ISIS. They work along Shiites. And since the Iranians are of the same religion, they could be ratted out and targeted.”

  “Good point.” He wrapped fingers across his forehead in deep thought. “All right, what we will do is pull them out of the country and put them in a staging area in Europe. Preferably Germany, which brings me to an idea. We need to reinforce them. Give them a lot more people to use. What would be your recommendation on this, Mitchell?”

  “We could move two groups of Special Forces to Europe. The 1st and the 5th. Also a couple companies of Rangers. All of Seal Team 3 could be deployed as well as 160th Special Ops aviation squadron and some Delta detachments.”

  Anderson nodded. “Give the order.”

  The C-130s flew over the base in echelon formation and banked to begin their landing patterns.

  Aboard the first one, Foxmann sat, occasionally looking over at the Russian, face partially hidden by the outline of the vehicle. Their eyes met as they had several times before. He knew the man suspected him of worry. Seeing that cave go up was fantastic. The byproduct of that, the radiation that the Russian promised right at this moment could be seeping into the air, if the man was right, and this made him shake his head. This mission signified a lot of things. Not only did it help start the war with Iran, it may have brought the rest of the world onto their side if such a cloud was forming up over Qom.

  The plane began its final approach, coming in at a slight nose down attitude and then retracting the front at the last moment. It flared and gently floated to the runway. The other three followed in one minute intervals. And soon all were being parked abreast on the ramp.

  “All right, gentlemen. Excellent job. Let’s head to debriefing.” Debriefing was one of the things that genuinely got on his nerves though he knew it was a necessary evil. Given the size of his force, it would take hours b
efore they hit the showers, eyes wide-open, blaring like zombies and ready to hit the pillow.

  He thought back to the Russian. In fact, he stopped, turned and watched him being led away. Their eyes met for a moment. If he was right. Oh, if he was right. That changed the game completely. An uneasy feeling crept through him, saying that the Russian was right. Yet, he had to put it out of his mind. Too much to worry about now.

  As he walked into the debriefing room, there was Grozner, shaking the hand of each man. When it was his turn, he said, “Excellent job, Jessy.”

  “I hope you’re right, Ariel. May I speak to you alone for a moment?” He let the worry return.

  Grozner nodded. “Yes, of course.”

  They entered a small room with a sofa and two chairs. Both men sat down across from each other. Foxmann sighed and said, “It was almost textbook. I couldn’t ask for more, and now I’m concerned beyond belief. The whole time back that’s all I thought about. We might have a tough time getting through this if a cloud is released.”

  “I didn’t tell Anderson of what might’ve happened. I’m going to wait for confirmation. If radiation release occurs, it’s just something we’ll have to live with. Certainly will be tough publicity wise—”

  “Publicity wise? Ariel we’re talking about something that, according to the Russian, is something that will surpass Chernobyl.”

  “What was the alternative, Jessy? Wait until they disposed of their nuclear waste? My God, we’ve had one intelligence failure after another and you know as well as I that we probably wouldn’t have discovered this beforehand.”

  “Maybe so,” Foxmann said, knowing he was right. “I kept telling myself I had to put it out of my mind. Rest assured it will be put out as long as we are at war. But if that man was right…By the way, how did the other attacks go?”

  “Excellent. Not a single loss. The hits on the leadership are still awaiting confirmation. You could almost say it was too good to be true, but there it is. And I’ll take it.”

  Foxmann nodded, eyes still looking away.

  “We will have confirmation if such a cloud is released by this afternoon I assure you,” Grozner said. “Until that time, clear your mind. And if you can, get some rest. If there’s anything you need, you know the routine.”

  Grozner left him and he scratched at some of the moisture on his forehead. Clutching his rifle, he walked back out and headed for the debrief office.

  The White House

  East Room

  1:02 P.M.

  Off to the side of the podium, Anderson looked over the reporters. Many were still getting to their seats. Who’d broke the story first? The wire agencies, Reuters and the Associated Press. Then the television picked it up, with CNN being the first. He looked at his watch, then over at Secretary Mitchell, cleared his throat and moved behind the teleprompter, the couple of steps inviting hundreds of shutters to race in endless clicks. He hoped his speech was worded the way he’d need it. Firm and wanting a cease-fire. Not really coming down hard on Israel’s side. No time for that. Must look like the peacemaker. Why was he concerned about that? He couldn’t answer. Now what ranked as one his most important speeches was just seconds away.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, the president.”

  He looked out past the prompters and began.

  “Good morning. As many of you are now finding out, Israel launched a coordinated attack against Iranian nuclear facilities last night. This attack was intended to destroy the Iranians’ ability to make nuclear weapons. As you all know, the United States had been engaged once before in trying to curb the Iranians’ ability to achieve a nuclear weapon. We felt we had succeeded when they signed an agreement a few years ago. Now, certainly there were parts of this agreement that disturbed some Americans and allies. But this was the best agreement at the time we could get. Just before launching the attack last night, we received word that the Iranians would be interested in having talks about their nuclear program again. Sadly, any hope of achieving anything further is done. What remains now, is that we broker a cease-fire as soon as possible. Prolonged warfare against Israel and Iran will only produce thousands upon thousands of casualties. And I’m afraid, much of these will be among the civilian populations. We are closely monitoring the situation and I’m being updated about it several times throughout the day. As regards to our forces, we are on full alert throughout the region and are preparing for any eventuality should Iran choose to strike at us. In doing this, I am also issuing a warning to Iran. We will do everything in our power to see that this conflict ends soon. However, if we are falsely accused of aiding and abetting Israel and are viewed as co-conspirators in this affair, rest assured we will defend ourselves, to where we will not be bothered anymore by Iran.”

  He rubbed his lower lip and took a healthy gulp of water from a small glass resting on the podium.

  David Tipton motioned for his attention. It looked urgent.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I’m afraid I must end this sooner than I would like to. In the meantime, Secretary Mitchell will fill you in on the targets hit last night.”

  The room seemed to erupt with every reporter trying to speak over the next, vying to get one question answered. He ignored them. Now to see what Tipton wanted.

  “Sir. The Secretary of State is on the phone. She sounded frantic.”

  “Alright, get me to her.” They exited, leaving the reporters and entering a small room to the side where the door was closed. There one of the aids gave him a smartphone. “Katrina, what’s going on?”

  “It’s the Russians, Mr. President. They claim a giant radioactive cloud is being released at this moment from one of the targets the Israelis hit. They didn’t mention which one, but their ambassador said they are preparing to file a formal declaration of protest at the U.N.”

  “I’ll need proof. Urge the Russian Ambassador to hold off until we confirm it. Then we will take the next step.” He handed the phone back, and exited through another door, Tipton right behind him. Once they reached the situation room, Tipton stayed outside while he watched the screen and Mitchell’s briefing. Once done, Mitchell joined him. The only other one there.

  “When can we find out if there’s a radiation cloud leaking?” he asked.

  “What the—What do you mean?” Mitchell was taken aback.

  “A byproduct of the attacks. When can we know?”

  “I could have an answer in about an hour and a half. Fly a satellite over the country.”

  “Get on it then.” He saw Mitchell seemed confused, even at a loss for words so he nodded, ”Yes, I know. I’ll explain it when you get me the information.”

  Homs Air Base, Syria

  5:27 P.M.

  Zarin looked at the TV replaying the Israeli prime minister’s announcement. “Bastards.” He said out loud, anger welling up in him as he sat in front of a group of pilots and base personnel in the operations room. He knew now that after what happened, he was the most important man on the premises. He’d known about the attack ever since being woken out of his sleep. And throughout the morning and into the afternoon, he waited for messages from Tehran on his next actions. Nothing came. He knew the Israelis probably knocked out all communications and his request for a meeting with Syria’s president was still awaiting the go ahead. If he did speak to him, he was going to implore him to use the remaining military power he had, instead of fighting the rebels, to stand by for retaliatory strike against Israel. He knew it was a long shot, but he had to try. What came next was how he was going to get back into Lebanon and oversee the drone attacks against Israel. He knew the place would be crawling with surveillance aircraft that could oversee and strike any convoy within a few minute’s notice. He still was going to go even if he didn’t hear from Tehran. And he thought about the special cargo. No better time to use them than now.

  His next thought turned to what was happening in Iran itself. The country was likely without electricity, the oil pipelines shut down and the political infrastructure reelin
g in confusion. They would send the word, probably by end of day. And he was looking forward to raining terror on the Jewish homeland.

  He left the room to find the Hezbollah representative. He needed to get the drones ready. Once he found one, he was told, “Can’t do it. The Israelis are watching all the roadways. Besides, we have orders to wait here until Tehran sends word.”

  “Come with me.” He motioned for the representative to follow him around the corner of a barracks. There they stood alone, Zarin facing away from him. He then turned with a pistol in hand pointing right at the man’s chest. “Get me a vehicle. I will not ask twice.”

  The man took a deep swallow. “Sir, to do so will be risking violating all of our orders. I must stress again we must wait for word from—”