A Touch Of War

by Isaac Stormm

  Grozner wondered just how much they had lost with the death. The mastermind of Haifa, of the successes against Israel now being zipped up in some bag for proper disposal, without revealing a damn thing. “I don’t want the bastard to have a Muslim burial. No way is he getting that. Have his body cremated.”

  Philpot nodded and left them.

  The moan of the siren started again, and he looked into the sky expecting to see the long white strings of the Iron Dome paint the sky. Instead all he saw was infinite blue, not a cloud to be seen.

  There, he saw the first missile way in the distance rise from the earth into a wide sweeping arc. Then a tiny flash. “Got it,” he said, wondering if Metzer saw it too.

  “We don’t have to leave now. It’s just unguided rounds we’ve been getting. We’re no longer vulnerable.”

  “Any chance of them getting back online and using more drones?”

  “Not anytime soon. We got a chance to hurt them real bad now.”

  “Then let’s get to the situation room. I want to follow our invasion minute by minute and I want our generals there updating me.”

  “I suspect they’re already waiting.”

  Ten minutes later, Grozner sat at the table with General Theo Bayer, Chairman of the Israeli Joint Chief of Staff and overall commander of the combat forces in and outside Israel. His counterpart, General Seth Cavanaugh was the Air Force chief. Then there was Foxmann, for the first time in days. Finally, there was a brigadier general who stood in front of the high definition screen which portrayed Israel and Lebanon dotted with blue and red flags.

  “Prime Minister,” the brigadier began, “we are again moving along a northward axis much faster since last time. Colonel Foxmann can vouch with his reconnaissance teams that we’ve eliminated most of the missile threats that originally stopped us. It appears that the rest of Hezbollah forces are retreating back through the Bekaa Valley and we believe they will probably surround Beirut by tomorrow which is when, if things keep going the way they are, we may be able to come within sight of.”

  “You mean the fighters are packing up and leaving?” It seemed incredible.

  “In a nutshell, yes.” He pointed at the Bekaa Valley region below Beirut. “I do suspect at least some of them will try to form a line of resistance here because they can use the mountains and the valleys as ambush zones.”

  “If I may interject, Prime Minister,” Foxmann spoke, “this could be a part of something much bigger. They may actually be luring us so they can use chemical weapons again, not on Israeli soil, but on her forces. Some of their missiles may have the ability to eat right through our gas mask filters. Then whatever they have—mycotoxins, nerve gas, and anything else, including plain old mustard gas—can still have a devastating impact.”

  “Your suggested course of action, then?”

  “We go a different route.” He got up and walked to the screen pointing at the lower portion of the Syrian/Lebanese border. “This region is only sparsely protected. There wouldn’t be nearly the threat of missile zones waiting for us like in the Bekaa or outside Beirut. So, my recommendation is we divert to the mountain roads and cross the border swinging in a wide left hook from there to Beirut. Then we can form a blocking line should the Iranians or Saudis try to come through Syria or Jordan.”

  Bayer said, “We’ll need a much larger force to do it.”

  Foxmann looked at Grozner, who nodded in compliance.

  Foxmann said, “There’s going to be significant fallout both politically and militarily if we sustain high losses. We should keep that in mind.” He was thinking from both angles now. He needed to stay on the same page as Grozner. Bayer and Cavanaugh were already there. They knew how to gauge any tactical and strategic suggestions with the political ramifications. That’s what Joint Chiefs of Staff did best of all throughout world history. Give your opinion but be yes-men when it came down to it. Although, he thought, thinking both seasoned veterans before him as yes-men would have been taking it a little too far over. Then he added, “The reason I suggested such a move was that the Syrian Army is virtually powerless in the region and Western Allied rebel groups would likely let us pass without causing us harm.”

  “Colonel Foxmann, how are you aware that these Arab rebel groups would let us pass?” Bayer asked.

  “Prime Minister, may I speak openly as to our intelligence operations with these two men?”

  “Yes. Of course.”

  “Because we’ve got agents that are working with them. Plus our psychological profile of their leaders show that they are highly receptive to any outside help. That includes us. Plus, they know as long as we are in the area, there will be no air attacks against us from the Syrians.” He looked at him for a moment to let the words sink in. “Or the Russians.”

  “Shit. We shoot down a Russian, we just added another opponent to the forces stacking up against us,” the elevated voice of Cavanaugh answered. “Even more I say we should go the same original route as we had planned all along.”

  The prime minister looked at his three men then over at the brigadier. “I have to agree with you guys, Jessy. Even though it’s more costly this way, given world events, we don’t have much of a choice. I know the threat of chemicals rears its ugly head to us whichever route we go. But we must acquiesce to the fact and I want you to agree with me. That we don’t have much leverage on the world stage at this point. And that if we did do other things like swing through Syria, it only invites more unknowns to face us than the ones that have already caused us problems. Which brings me to our most important problem right now. The deadline. Are we prepared?”

  “We’ve ordered all forces within Israel to be arrayed around the entire border so no gaps exist. That includes aircraft and armor. As for what the OPEC countries might do, there’s no indication that Egypt would let the other Arab nations pass through their territory. If they did, I would suggest a preemptive strike against the westernmost area of Egypt the moment they crossed the border. Where our biggest concern is, is still the Iranian/Iraqi/Saudi forces. There’s been no air activity from anyone as of yet, they’ve just been flying around near their bases. But their forces are mobilized and all it would take is a simple yes to have them move out. When that happens, we should hit them while they’re still deep in Saudi Arabia and Iraq. Don’t wait until any get into Syria.”

  “Haven’t some of the Iranians got there already?”

  “Suicide bombers and Special Forces. Not main thrust units like armor or infantry.”

  “Which we could already provide a buffer to if we followed a Syrian incursion scenario.” Foxmann pointed at the country. “We would be dozens of miles ahead of where we would be if we stayed in Lebanon. We could push them all the way back to their borders and be a threat to invading them, instead of the opposite.” He saw a new argument for his suggestion.

  Grozner shook his head and looked at the floor. “We can’t do that, Jessy. Besides if those countries go to war against us, well, we could do something that could change the balance in our favor. Something I did not know existed in all my years in government. After midnight tonight if they stay true to their threat, I will reveal it to you. But not until.”

  “May I venture a guess and say another attack on Iran?”

  “No. Nothing like that. It’s something that none of us here would ever expect Israel or any other country to do.”

  The White House

  Private Dining Room

  4:20 P.M.

  Anderson tipped his class up to let the last drop of the champagne tingle his throat. Then he set it down and gently tapped it with his butter knife. It rang out, calling the rest of the table to order. There was Mason, Mitchell, and Seth Greene’s serious faces looking at him as he lay the knife on his plate. “I hope this was to your liking. I know you don’t like eating away from family but given our unique situation, I need you here until further notice.” He looked at his watch. 4:20 p.m. “We have forty minutes to go. And I want to discuss the efforts being
undertaken. As for me, I’ve talked to Rasmuth four times today. OPEC picks up the phone, listens to him, and very politely says thank you. And puts it back down. They’ve done this repeatedly. Prime Minister Grozner still remains determined to smash Hezbollah. And given his situation, I can’t really blame him. But we’re about to see a World War in the forty odd minutes or so that one way or another we’ll have to get involved in. Therefore, I am going to say to all of you something that will deviate us from our current path.”

  They seemed to lean toward him, hanging on his words.

  “I’m going to stand with Israel.” He put up his hand ready to withstand any sudden rebuttals. “Only in the sense of preserving its place in the Middle East. Not fighting alongside it. After the deadline passes, we are going to up strikes against Iran. Israel will be permitted to launch strikes against Iraq and Saudi Arabia as long as they don’t come near our forces. The heads of those two countries have not been told of this and will not be told. As for Iran, we’re going to use a full-scale air offensive against the country. We’re going to destroy its ability to wage war. This will take a lot of wind out of their aggressive posture. Now, I’m open to any questions or suggestions.”

  “Do we still keep guarding the oil fields?” Seth Greene tipped his cup up, relishing some more of the hot coffee.

  “Yes. Nothing changes there. However, I do want our Special Forces that we got assigned to the area moved to a place where they can be allowed to conduct operations against the Iranian mainland. Preferably in the Persian Gulf, again.”

  “We can conduct operations from amphibious ships in the Gulf,” Mitchell said. “It’ll be opportune since they can move around to minimize chance of attack. We’ve also got carriers that provide air cover. So I am confident this will be a positive move.”

  “Now of the other countries that are going to declare war on Israel, I want to leave them be. I’ve studied the governments and military forces of these nations. It’s doubtful they have the strength to inflict any real harm against Israel. But the fact that they are willing to go to war, still causes a problem with sea lanes. They could start attacking ships at random. NATO ships…our ships, to try to draw us in to battle. We will respond if we’re attacked. But until then, we’re not going to conduct any offensive operations against those countries. Again, let Israel do that. I’m now prefacing this aggressive posture on the fact that this war could be over in a matter of days instead of much longer. You could say I’ve seen the light if you want, the need for us to be proactive in the region.” He knew they were surprised. As the one who taught peace most of all, now found a prickly spine, and was willing to stand firm in an area that only recognized strength. “Talk to me.”

  “Just one thing, Mr. President,” Mason suggested. “When would we start these operations?”

  “The moment we find out the rest of the OPEC nations have decided to go to war. That could be just forty minutes from now.”

  “I must congratulate you,” Mason continued. I’m sure you’re aware of the talk about where or if you’re willing to stand strong. Well, I can go on with my work knowing that I have a president who in the darkest hour rose to the occasion.”

  The other two men smiled in agreement.

  “Save the pleasantries. We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us.” He placed the champagne glass on top of the empty plate. “Now we have to worry about attacks against the U.S. mainland.”

  Tel Aviv

  Situation Room

  11:54 P.M.

  Foxmann was the last to sit down. The moment he did, Grozner rose from his chair and stepped over to the large monitor. He pressed a button which took the map of the Middle East off and made the screen dark. Then like a schoolmaster addressing his pupils, Philpot, Cavanaugh, Metzer, Bayer, and Foxmann, he looked over each one half expecting one to say something before he spoke. When no one did, he nodded slightly and began.

  “Gentlemen, with six minutes to go. We find this nation at the crossroads which will determine its existence for future generations. All of us here are aware of what’s at stake. And all of us are ready to sacrifice our own lives if that means preserving our country. What I spoke to you earlier about was a plan that’s never before been made known to anyone other than each prime minister that served Israel. No one. I was made aware of it the day I was elected. I never imagined in one thousand years that the possibility of using it would arise so soon. This will be the most ambitious, and perilous military operation that Israel has ever undertaken. I can think of no other moment that comes even close to what I’m about to show you.”

  “During the night when he was fretting over how he was going to announce to the world that Israel was declaring its independence, David Ben-Gurion wanted something that would shake the world into believing that Israel had the right to exist. A young officer, Moshe Dayan, who of course later became a defense minister, came up with this operation, which at the time was deemed technically unfeasible. But he didn’t develop it for use in those days, it was to come much later, if necessary. Like today.” He pointed repeatedly at the ground. “Right now. It would be something that the world totally did not expect and yet one that could change the balance in favor of Israel should it ever find itself in such a calamitous position as it does now. A taking of something so precious that the nations choosing to go to war with us will hold their collective breaths in terror. Colonel Foxmann, you will be the one in charge of this operation. And where we are going gentlemen, is here.”

  The picture sprang upon the screen, almost leaping out at them. The large structure, look to be set in a bustling metropolis. Strangely ancient, but familiar to all present. Their mouths opened aghast as they rose from their chairs. All their years in the military and government became ultra-small by comparison. They fixated on the object, all them knowing exactly what it was.

  Mecca.

  “That’s right, gentlemen, this is our new target. The holiest place in Islam. The Al-Masjid Mosque. We’re going to seize it from them. Hold it until a cease-fire is accepted and they retreat back behind their borders. If not, we will destroy it, eradicate it to where there is absolutely not even the smallest stone left. Operation Archangel is its name. And we’re taking it tomorrow night.”

  “This is incredible,” Metzer said. “I never imagined we’d have something like this on the books. This is the real Samson option, isn’t it? Not attacking military or economic sites in the Middle East with nuclear weapons but taking such a significant place that everyone will have to pause and take notice.”

  “You’re absolutely right, Metzer,” Grozner responded. “This was the ultimate objective if we were ever to face such dangerous times as now. The Muslims will have no choice but to base every decision they make from tomorrow night on by what we threaten to do with their most sacred site.”

  Foxmann’s lips couldn’t manipulate words. He just shook his head in wonderment. Was this crazy? Brilliant? Or maybe a mixture of both? Unexpected was an understatement. He needed to speak. He was able to bring his lips together and mutter, “Are you certain it can be done?”

  “We will see that the airspace over Mecca will be clear of any kind of aircraft. All buildings that overlook Al-Masjid that might be used to direct fire down on you will be leveled.”

  “Will the people inside these buildings be warned?” Foxmann asked.

  “After you have successfully taken the mosque, we’ll drop leaflets and broadcast on Saudi television and radio the urgency to evacuate the area around the mosque. Those that choose not to, well, the responsibility of their deaths will be on them.”

  He quickly looked at each man looking for someone to speak then continued. “Now on to business. We’re going to plan this mission right now. Colonel Foxmann, as you’ll be the one on the ground, I’d like for you to take the floor.”

  Foxmann walked over to Grozner’s position, eyes on the screen the whole time. He looked over the picture and with a hand providing emphasis, he made an imaginary circle around the bo
undary of the mosque. “One hundred men is what I would need to take and hold this place. The biggest obstacle we have is not the buildings around it but if there would be any crowds there that moment. A low drop coming down on thousands of people would result in too many unnecessary casualties on both sides. If the people knew who we were, they might try to attack us, and we’d have to use deadly force to defend ourselves. Of course a greater threat, is the armed security they would have there. They would almost definitely spring into action once they see we were armed. That’s the problem for the beginning of the operation. The other is coming down on these buildings outside. If we don’t get our drop just right, we’re going to have a lot of guys hanging off building roofs. And getting them off would be another chore in itself. However, we would have a much better chance by using HALO. With that, I could probably guarantee we would land within the walls of the mosque, as I know we’ve practiced such small area landings before. I would like, though, to have one more shot at practicing it before we go.”

  “Now, as far as defending the place. I could have mobile anti-tank teams, machine gunners, snipers and SAM operators set up at strategic points around the location, making sure they have good visibility and are all connected by communications. That brings me to another thing. All of us will wear communications, not just the section leaders. As far as the section leaders go, I’d want them to have a pocket-size drone that relays its film to a tablet which each section leader will have so they will see what’s going on in their area. I will also use an ATV to get around inside the area quickly to check things out, if need be.That brings me to the second question that I have. How long are we expected to hold this place?”

  “Five days,” Grozner replied.

  “Then we’ll need a third C-130 to drop an ample amount of ammunition, food, and medical supplies. Also plenty of batteries.”

  “It will be done.”

  Foxmann needed to venture a little more. “How will we get out?” This all sounded good but if they were meant to be men of sacrifice, he needed to know beforehand. They would be willing to lay their lives down, though reluctantly, for that was for the other side to do. It was ingrained in their culture. Men like him and his unit want to be around to fight another day.