by Isaac Stormm
“Clear,” Foxmann said and moved to hit the light switch.
“Bloody damn good.” It was Philpot taking off his earmuffs. “I always wanted to try this. I was a bit nervous, to tell you the truth.”
“We should have aimed at you dead center and scared you more,” Foxmann chuckled, rubbing the sweat on his cheek.
“Let’s go watch,” Philpot, said, parting the men into the hallway.
Foxmann was last. He turned off the light and waited until entering the control room to move to Philpot’s side. He pointed at a line of men with large sacks slung over their shoulders. “The rest of the stuff has to be delivered by vehicle and carried in.”
He watched them set the sacks down and teams circle around to forage the contents. They ran off with armfuls of charges and resumed working the centrifuges.
“With the men we have, I figure seven more minutes and the place will be completely wired to detonate.”
Three men entered and Foxmann stepped back to let them plant the charges on the large console and computer bank against the wall.
“Now it’s time to leave,” he said.
The group exited the control room and headed for the platform where they breached. Once they entered the long hallway, Philpot looked back. “Are all the charges timed to go off simultaneously?” he inquired.
“Yes, but only as a backup. I have the detonator.”
They passed the perforated silhouettes and the hallway converged with the other hallways at a single double door. The odor of gunpowder stung them as Foxmann pushed one open and they emerged into the still air.
The vehicles that brought them began to reverse rapidly, making sure when the detonation occurred, they’d be safely away from the blast zone.
More teams came out of the doorway. Each one numbering ten men. It took barely a minute and a half for the final group to exit.
Foxmann pulled out a smartphone and waited till everyone was behind him. The teams shouted their numbers. When the last one called, he pressed the screen’s keypad and entered a three-digit number. The red icon with the white phone in its center rested just below his thumb. Then looking around making sure all was clear, he pressed it.
The shoot house disappeared into a million fragments hurled aloft and twirling in an artificial wind. A shockwave of sound streaked across the sand, churning it up like steam clapping against the covered ears of the group, and a great cloud of black and gray rolled upward hundreds of feet. It formed into a boiling mushroom shape with flames licking at its base, the mighty sound leaving just the crackle of charred timbers among a blackened smudge in the earth.
He continued to watch the cloud rise and dissipate well past a thousand feet. He’d never seen that much explosive used. All caused by the electronic signal sent from his finger over an invisible wire in the air.
Foxmann looked over at Philpot. “All the charges were timed to go off fifteen minutes later if the initial effort didn’t work.”
“Damn impressive.” Philpot jabbed at his ears. “They’re still ringing.”
Foxmann turned to face his men. “Excellent job. Dismissed. Now, back to the staging area.”
They broke ranks and Foxmann motioned Philpot to follow him to one of the patrol vehicles. “You supposed to ride back with me?”
“Yes. There is new information about the Israeli acquiescence to the inspectors.”
“Can it be told here?”
“I prefer we do it on the chopper.”
He tapped the driver’s shoulder. “You know the way.”
The driver turned the wheel hard right and the tires dug into the sand. The ensuing ride was one of quiet, but several times the bumpy ride almost sent Foxmann and Philpot into the roof. When they arrived at the Black Hawk helicopter, he thanked the driver and went over and tapped the window on the pilot side. Seeing the acknowledgment, he and Philpot climbed into the spacious interior and fastened onto a seat.
“Want me to leave the doors open?”
“Thank you, no.” He nodded at them. “That okay?” he said to Philpot who nodded. The crew chief shut the doors.
The whine of the turbines begin to build. Soon the blades were chopping at the air and the Black Hawk lifted. Foxmann saw the rest of the men piling into the trucks and felt for them. It was another 20 minutes before they would get back to the staging area and would be on the same road which from the air, carved through the desert like it had been cut by a dull knife in unsteady hands.
“Peculiar things happening,” Philpot said, his voice competing amid the massive turbines working right behind them. “They’ve not been rocketing us. And Hezbollah hasn’t even released a statement.”
Foxmann knew that he would’ve gotten a ring or a message on his phone. Something else must be bugging Philpot.
“To tell you the truth,” here it comes, “I’ve been worried about our intelligence in Iran. I think we have a double agent. One that’s the closest to the government officials. Suspecting this, I severed ties with him. Four years’ worth down the drain.”
If he was wrong, there went Israel’s most powerful agent. He could see why it would keep him up. “I thought that what I knew about your network, they were all solid people,” Foxmann replied.
“That’s just it. We haven’t heard from any of them since Operation Thunder Saber. Only our man in Tehran knew their identities. That’s why I think he was feeding us false information and we had the curtain drawn over our eyes when they went nuclear.”
If true, it was the worst kind of betrayal. In World War II, the Allies turned German agents in Britain into double agents and kept them working their way to the end of the war. Israel, much to its luck, had never had a double agent. At least not as far as Foxmann could remember. “Have you told Grozner of this?”
“Hell, he’s the one that convinced me. As you can see, that’s why I came and spoke to you. I didn’t want Grozner questioning my competence.”
“I don’t see him ever doing that.”
“He will if Houser finds out. He’ll have to sacrifice me. I don’t mind losing the position, it is the reputation which is rock solid that I’ll mind.”
Damn, this was a hell of a time to be worried about job security. “You don’t think there’s anything I can do?”
“No. I’m not asking that. You know me well enough that I just need you to speak up for me if things get rough.”
“I can do that. But I really don’t think you need worry right now. We’re going to need every swinging dick we can find once everything goes hot.”
“I hope that’s true.”
Foxmann dismissed the concern. Philpot was a damn good man and his talent needed to be around. If Grozner showed any inclination to sack him, unless it was outright cowardice, he’d play devil’s advocate and vouch for him. He looked out one of the windows. “I wonder how it’s going to go.”
“I’ll stand firm if they start accusing.”
“No. No. The meeting. I wonder if we’ll see the school child come out in our politicians and shouts and bickering that will last into the night.”
“They won’t let us down.”
“No, they won’t.”
The helicopter stayed relatively low, about 500 feet. It passed over the massive army base where the assault team staged. Tel Aviv was less than 20 minutes away.
Tel Aviv
The Knessett Situation Room
4:00 P.M.
Foxmann and Philpot strode through the twin doors and sat down in one of the chairs that lined the lengthy table. Houser and several of the labor members came and sat further away from them, with Houser getting up and moving back to sit right next to the head chair where Grozner was to sit. And in he came with Metzer and the heads of the respective branches of service.
He pulled back the chair, “Gentlemen” he said, his stern face looking like it would gobble up the dissenting words of anyone and spit them right back out. “It is our duty to now make a decision about the most important course of action in th
e history of our nation. I’ve thought about this ever since the fourteenth. I’ve lost nights of sleep just like our military members of this cabinet. But that pales in comparison to what lays before us. And I will wait no longer. We are going to strike Iran. And we will begin in seven hours. 11 p.m.”
He looked at Foxmann. “Colonel, you will be the first to depart. I will let Metzer tell you the details.”
“Thank you, Prime Minister.” Metzer got up and clicked a small remote. The wall display lit up showing a map of the region. With a finger, he pointed at the boundary of Israel. “The C-130s will take off at eleven p.m.” He moved his finger slowly to the east over the Caspian sea. Three aircraft carrying 200 men in total will fly a route that will permit them to penetrate Iranian airspace approximately ten minutes after the missile batteries near their objective have been eliminated. They will land near Qom, disembark and penetrate the nearby mountain where we know the largest concentration of centrifuges are and destroy them.”
“Give or take five minutes,” he traced his finger across upper Syria and Iraq, through Kurdistan. “And our aerial strike force consisting of sixty-two jets following this course will penetrate Iranian airspace and begin attacks on the following: at Arak, its heavy water and production plant; Isfahan and its uranium conversion plant; Natanz, the uranium enrichment plant; Fordow and its uranium enrichment plant and the nuclear plant at Bushehr. The military research facility at Parchin will also be attacked. That concludes our main target list.”
“As for other strikes, I must add that as all this is happening, we will launch several viruses into their known military mainframe computers and the computers at their oil plants and pumping stations. The city of Tehran will lose all power that will take several days to get back online. After that, we will hit it again.”
“I also have decided we must target some other things which I feel is vital to the overall success of the mission,” Grozner said. “You may continue, Metzer.”
“The targets the prime minister is speaking of is the Iranian leadership. All members of the Supreme Council will be killed as will the president.”
“My God. The U.N. will go mad,” Houser quipped. “Is that really necessary?”
“If you want to avoid us having to do this again in the future, it absolutely is.”
“Also,” he moved his hand to the Persian Gulf, “we will have two of our Dolphin class submarines on station in the Gulf. These will be on standby to hit the oil pumping stations along the southern coast in the days following the attack.”
“What about the rest of the world,” Houser stated, looking at Grozner. “What the hell are you going to say to Anderson when you drive this knife deep into his back?”
“I am not driving a knife through him. I am simply doing what we have been planning for years,” Grozner retorted. “The belief that the Iranians have become peace-loving and willing to cooperate is something only your side of the party would believe.”
Houser rose from his chair. Grozner followed him. The two men stared each other down in the silence.
Political bickering now? Foxmann thought. It never ends.
“Sit down…Please.” Grozner offered a hand pointing at the seat, his eyes still locked on Houser’s.
Grozner sat down then Houser looked around at the table’s reaction. Seeing there was none, he slowly descended into the chair.
“I am sorry for that,” Grozner said. “I will call Anderson and ask if they have given into all demands. Even if they have, to call this off now would be too risky to contemplate. We all know the Iranians will never follow through on their agreements. Anderson I feel is at a crossroads in our relationship. If he doesn’t go with the Iranian offers, he’ll be viewed as warmongering. If he does, he’ll be viewed as too gullible when they say enough inspections and start turning every one away. Meanwhile, all the time they’re showing they have no weapons they’ll be developing in secret. All of us here know that. And believe it or not, I believe even Anderson knows this. If not, his advisors sure do.” Grozner took out his pen and began tapping it on the table. “I predict the rebuke from Washington will be weak. It must be. On this we all must have faith. If it isn’t, well, as I heard said in a movie a long time ago, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”
“I don’t envy you, Grozner.” Houser shook his head. “Taking chances. They may be the only lifeline we’ll have after this starts.”
“And they understand that. I will reassure Anderson we’ll fight the battles for him. The Americans don’t have to send anyone to help us.” He planted his hands on the desk and leaned toward Houser like a teacher shaming his pupil. “I have complete faith in the Americans.”
“That’s unusual. Still, Anderson will hit the roof when he hears of the attack.”
“Maybe, but I know his advisors know the course we take is the correct one. I will emphasize that to him. In the next few days, if any Americans are attacked by Iran, we will consider it an attack on Israel itself. That’s the guarantee I’ll give him.”
Houser stood back up. “Is that all?”
Grozner stepped back. “Yes, that concludes the briefing.” Two aides got up as well. Houser started to walk away, but turned and extended his hand. “You have my promise on not criticizing you in the press in the coming days.” He walked over and shook Foxmann’s hand. “Good luck, Colonel.”
“Thank you, sir,” he replied.
Houser came by and shook Grozner’s hand. “Thank you,” he nodded with a smile.
“In the press. But not in private. There I will still have questions.” He pulled his hand away. Grozner gave another nod and turned back to the table waiting to hear the door close on Houser.
“Gentleman…That is all for now. Go home, get rest. Kiss your wives and kids and be back here by eleven p.m. tonight.”
All at the table rose and started surrounding Foxmann, extending their hand. All he could respond with were thank yous as they walked away. Then just as he started past Grozner, the man said, “Jessy, I’d like to have a few words with you.”
“Yes?” he said, eyebrows lifting in curiosity.
“I may not be at the ramp to see you off. So I’d just like to say as feeble as it may sound, good luck. May God be with you, my friend.” He placed a hand on his shoulder and extended the other.
Foxmann grasped it tight. “Thank you, Ariel.”
“You never call me that, much.”
“Maybe I should start. Thank everyone in your cabinet who asks about me. I’m going home and see Anna and Sara for about an hour. Then I’ll report to the staging area and give the mission rundown.”
“Sounds a hell of a lot more exciting than what I’ve got to do., which is call Anderson, and insist to him that the Iranians are playing. You know how I know that?”
Foxmann shook his head.
“The inspectors are wanting into the mine area. We’ve received word that Iran told the I.A.E.A. that it is too dangerous to go inside due to a rockslide risk.”
“Frankly, I was wondering what it was you knew that everybody else didn’t to have that kind of confidence in Anderson.”
“This will do it I am sure.”
“Don’t under estimate the man’s spine. It may still be jelly.”
“Even so, things look better.”
“We’ll need it.” He turned and left Grozner there, hoping the man would have Anderson on his side before the attack started. The damn Iranians. For the first time I have to thank them, they don’t realize whose coffin they just nailed shut by starting the stalling game. Thoughts turned back to Grozner. Wait a second. Surely he wouldn’t give away the forces’ departure time or tell him something big was imminent. Is he that kind of politician? I don’t think so, but I must not underestimate how far he might be willing to go. Should I call him? No, that’ll show you don’t trust him. Concentrate on the mission. Must do that. Run it down in the mind. Meditate on it even. Every spare moment, play it like a film. End it differently every time. Prepare.
Be ready. I am.
Once in the Toyota he buckled his seatbelt and just sat there a minute. Then he inhaled deeply and let it out as if he were exorcising any negative thoughts. His mind cleared and he started the car. Anna...I must see Anna. This might be the last time.
The Oval Office
12:27 P.M.
“Mister President. Prime Minister Grozner is on line four.”
“Thank you.” He pressed the pulsing blue button. “Mister Prime Minister?”
“Yes. Mister Anderson. I won’t keep you long. As you know, the Iranians have already commenced stalling. I would like to know your future course on the issue so that we may keep common ground between us.”
“Stand together…We have sent a cable that the mine must be opened for inspection as soon as possible. We are waiting for their reply.” He waited a second for Grozner to continue, then seeing he must be thinking the same way, Anderson added, “I know this was to be expected.”
“They will continue stalling, you know.”
“I never ruled that out. However, there is some good news. When asked about access to the other facilities, strange thing is they said we are free to inspect. Right now in fact, a team of our people just departed for Tehran. So we should at least view it as a positive step.”
“Mr. President, surely you didn’t jump the gun. It is too soon. You will be used.” Grozner sounded stern, almost like having ‘a how dare you’ moment.
“But the opening was there, Mr Grozner. They gave it when they refused access to the mine. We begin inspections tomorrow.”
“Mr. President…I…. you mustn’t.” He sounded lost, looking for words. ”Terrible things could happen—”
“Are you worried about something you can’t or won’t tell me, Mr. Prime Minister? At this stage, we should not keep things from each other.”
“No. Just that with America’s history, they could be used as hostages to demand more concessions.”