by Isaac Stormm
“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.
“They will be given an ultimatum of five days. As a stipulation to that, you will be guaranteed free passage out,” Grozner said.
“And if they don’t?”
“Then the mosque itself will be destroyed by nuclear weapons.”
“We may no longer have air superiority to do that and if they move the patriot missile batteries into the area, they could shoot down any missiles we fire from Israel.”
“That’s why the nuclear weapons we have will be carried by you. We developed them decades ago. Suitcase nukes is what they’re popularly called. You will be given two of these. They will be armed and disarmed with a code. According to the plan, two such weapons will be enough. They must never leave your sight, for they are the key to this whole operation.”
Fatalistic sounding to be sure. But workable. Foxmann ventured, “If we take casualties, the kind needing evacuation, there is no hope though, correct?”
“I’m afraid that’s the downside. You are completely and utterly on your own once you land. There will be no resupply drops or anything else reaching you. You will have enough to sustain you for the necessary days. Nothing beyond that.”
Foxmann nodded. “Is it possible we could make this a night drop?”
“You are adventurous,” Metzer chided.
“That’s what it has to be,” Grozner said. “You will get a practice jump tomorrow then you will leave tomorrow night.”
“I suppose it’s too late to get a full-size replica or something similar built in time.”
“On the contrary. It’s already been done. It waits for you in the Negev.”
“This op is going to be extremely hazardous regardless of how much training we have. I would like more but I know there is no time. We will do the best we can. That I assure you.”
Grozner nodded his approval. “I know you will, my friend.”
Just at that moment, something drew their eyes away from each other. They looked over at the clock on the other wall. The others joined them and as one they watched its hand tick past midnight.
Is there a deadline?
“Yes. Twelve noon on the second of June.”
The White House
Oval Office
5:00 P.M.
“Mr. President, Secretary-General Rasmuth is on the line.”
He turned on the laptop. Rasmuth’s face formed before him. “Mr. President. You are aware of the significance of this moment. OPEC has notified me they are delivering a declaration of war to the United Nations Security Council. What I’m asking for may come as a shock, but it must be tried.”
“Go on.”
“I’m going to ask that if you have more plans to attack Iranian installations, that you put them on hold. For the time being, at least. The reason I ask this is that I want you and other members of NATO to stand with the United Nations and demand a cease-fire from both parties to take place within six hours.”
“That sounds fine on my end. The trouble is that the Israelis won’t go for it. They won’t go for anything that might put them in a weaker position. And I have a feeling they will view this proposal as something that will do just that.” He knew it had no chance but something within kept wanting him to give it one final shot.
“Can we at least try it?”
“I haven’t spoken to the other NATO member nations,” Anderson said.
“I have. All are on board except the United Kingdom which is waiting for you to make a decision first.”
Good old England. The best ally a country could have. He admired their hesitancy in this matter. “Then I will contact them directly and tell them that I want them on board too. Okay. We’ll do it. But I don’t see much fruition of this.”
“Thank you, Mr. President. These are difficult times for all of us right now. However, I do believe there is a glimmer of hope in what we will do. Thank you for your time.” The screen went blank.
He tapped another key. It was Mitchell, still in the situation room, meeting with the joint chiefs. “James. Put everything on hold until I give further notice. Rasmuth wants us to issue a declaration with NATO and give it six hours to resolve. I don’t have any faith in that, but I told him I would go along with it. We will continue what we planned during dinner once the six hours has expired, if nothing favorable has happened.”
“Affirmative, Mr. President.”
“Sorry to put a damper on things. I was dead set for this. But something keeps gnawing at me when somebody comes up with a peace proposal to try to at least give it the slightest chance of success occurring. By the way, have you detected anything resembling movements from the OPEC nations toward Israel?”
“Nothing just yet. Just some increase in signal traffic. Governments talking to each other.”
Anderson tapped another key. A few seconds later Lambert appeared. It was clear she was on board her plane. “You can keep coming on home, Katrina. We’re going to give diplomacy one more shot. I told everyone that I don’t have any faith in it but we must exhaust all peaceful options.”
“I agree, Mr. President. I do feel that the window is becoming smaller with each hour, however.”
“We’ll keep the window open as long as possible. What is the mood for our NATO nations? Did you get a vibe over there that might tell us something?”
“Reluctance. Waiting for our move. Those are the two things I got from Brussels.”
“As usual.”
He looked down at the desk for a moment. Put his finger to his temple, deep in thought.
“Are you alright, Mr. President?”
“Yes. Just had a strange premonition. Something’s going to happen, I don’t know who will cause it, OPEC or Israel or Iran or whoever. But something big is going to happen tomorrow that will change everything I feel. I could make an urgent request for meeting with the OPEC and Iranian ambassadors when you get back. Try another solitary push if this current proposal doesn’t work out.”
“That sounds fine. I’ll be on standby then, as this present proposal takes off.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Tel Aviv
Prime Minister’s Office
12:47 A.M.
May 31
Metzer poured the last of the coffee, and handed it over to Grozner. “I have every faith in Foxmann and his men,” he said. “But, between you and me, what do you think the chances are of them landing safely? This has never been done before.”
“Foxmann and his people will get there.” Grozner swallowed a tiny swig. “My worry is what will become of them if the demands are not met.”
“View them as expendable?”
Mosul, Iraq
12:52 A.M.
General Jalil stooped to get through the BTR-80’s hatch. His personal command vehicle, the eight-wheeled Soviet design was essentially a battlefield taxi. Armed with a 14.5mm machine gun, and light armor, it once supplemented the famed Soviet BMP tracked fighting vehicles designed to roll through Western Europe during World War III.
Overhead roared the air cover in the form of Iranian Su-27 Flankers and Iraqi Fighting Falcons. They looked down on a fighting force massive in numbers but like the BTR-80, lacking in front line equipment.
Most vehicles had been bought from the hard up Russian government. This particular one was built in 1998 and was specially outfitted with French designed secure communications. Or so it seemed. Jalil knew the Israelis could hear him as well as Americans, for the hardware was 1990s vintage. Apparently that didn’t matter as much as things that went boom to the higher ups. He was expected to carry out his duty regardless. But like any resourceful general, he found ways around shortc
omings presented to him. Whenever possible he used a runner. Now that was impossible as the convoy stretched for miles exiting the city of Mosul. He was in one of the last vehicles to leave and his thoughts soon turned to the fact that they were naked before the sky. He was told no Israeli Air Force would attack. That they would be alright for the next refueling stop. After that, the column would disperse into Syria, set up staging areas and launch against the Israeli border. It sounded so clean. But he knew as long as he moved, he as well as all the other vehicles in this powerful force could be destroyed. They might get to Syria all right but they would have to walk. He swallowed a cup of water. His stomach rumbled in disagreement. He started to feel lightheaded as he thought of that massive sky and what it could hold. How long would it be before the planes were flitting about in mortal combat? He didn’t want to think of what his countrymen and allies in those aircraft might face. So he prayed to Allah to preserve and watch over them.
Outside, the column some 30 miles long, moved westward at 30 miles per hour on a two-lane road. They had four hours to go before the final stop and their entrance to Syria.
Israel
Somewhere in the Negev Desert
7:47 A.M.
Foxmann looked at the last of the men assembled in front of the platform. Just an hour and half before, he’d gathered them around in similar fashion and told them what they were about to attempt. Not their destination, just what was being asked. He’d watched them board the transports, eager-eyed and refreshed at the challenge. Then he jumped with them out over a featureless terrain save for a tiny white oval that seemed smaller than a postage stamp. It hardly grew as they descended at a snail’s pace from 20,000 feet. From there it grew a little more each minute until 94 out of hundred men landed within its boundary, almost on top of each other. The virtues of the HAHO method. The chutes opened automatically upon leaving the aircraft at a high altitude to be guided in by the user. Now on the ground, they released their chutes and moved away as the supplies rode down on giant pallets with chutes guided by GPS. They landed within feet of each other at the center of the oval. Tthe men crawled over to them, released the safety cords, and readied the packages for opening. “Outstanding,” he said to David amid the scrambling men. “Better than I expected.” He had only estimated around 80 percent landing within the perimeter. He was glad he was wrong. He beamed at their accomplishment.
“By this exercise, you men have shown that you have what it takes for this special operation. I’m not gonna lie to you, this is the most dangerous thing that you’ll ever attempt, and the likelihood of us coming back may be slim. But I know you all will rise to the challenge as you always have. Just remember our people have had it rough the last few days. They’ve earned the right to live in peace and security. This operation will go a long way toward ensuring that. Gentlemen, we’re going to take Mecca.”
A cheer erupted. Hands clapped approvingly as Foxmann nodded. “We’re landing right in the midst of their holiest site. We will hold it for a predetermined period and if our demands are not met, we have orders to destroy it…I hope it doesn’t come to that. That we will all make it back to Israel. But, I know you men are used to hardship. And I know you will not complain about what lies ahead. I want you to know that I will be with you all the way to the end. Detachment leaders, I want to meet with you in there.” He pointed to an open door where a small office was. A poster size photograph was being laid across a desk.
He closed the door behind them and let David, Lehman, Dahan, Talbert, and Seagal look upon the objective, an overhead shot of the mosque. Its oval-shape covered 88 square acres. There was an overhanging roof that surrounded its perimeter but was open in the center allowing the vast complex to be viewed from the air. At one end stood a 43-foot high stone building draped in black and fringed with gold lettering known as the Great Kabaa. This was considered the holiest part of the facility. It was the point around the world where each Muslim was to face when praying regardless of where they were. Believed to be the first house of worship created for Islam, it was said to stretch back to the time of Abraham and Ishmael. Among its most important features was a black stone set in the eastern corner of the structure once given to Abraham by an angel. Reportedly obtained from paradise, it was a prime object of veneration by those making the Hajj or pilgrimage. The Prophet Mohammed once made his own pilgrimage to the Kabaa and from then on, every Muslim, if fit to do so, was to make his own journey there. Right now though, the eyes looking down upon it were focusing on other things, not its grandeur. Specifically, the two-story arch supports of the roof where within lay majestic hallways called zamzams that circled the open area. These had to be swept and would be likely hiding places in the opening phases for security or pilgrims wanting to resist. When cleared, the minarets which rose from the top of the roof, would be taken for observation purposes as well as setting up sniper and anti-tank teams.
“How we are going to do this is land in the open area around the kabaa, seize all the exits, and set up firing positions all around the area. Now, how this will unfold is Alpha detachment will take the North, Bravo will take the South, Charlie will take the East and Delta will take the West. Don’t worry about any building outside that is capable of looking down on us. They will be destroyed. Gil, you and I are going to be overseeing something special. Two nuclear backpacks. They will be placed in the storage areas below the mosque. We will assign one man each to them and let them rotate guard duties. These devices must never be left alone. If there comes a time when you are being overrun, then it will be up to you and I to use a code to start the countdown. If something happens to us, it will be passed on to the next detachment leaders. If something happens to them, it will be passed to the next in command. My hope is that it doesn’t come to that. I don’t want my last resting place to be Mecca and I’m sure you feel the same way. But we must be prepared to sacrifice ourselves. It’s for the greater good of Israel.”
“We will all be connected by communications of course, every man will, not just the detachment leaders. We’ll have enough supplies to last us five days. If it goes beyond that, I don’t want to even think about it. If our demands are met, we’ll be allowed to evacuate, taking the nukes with us. Then after that…It’s a different world.”
“Never in my wildest dreams, could I have ever imagined we would be going here,” David said. “This plan is audacious, ambitious and from where I sit, suicidal. It can be taken. No doubt, but we’ll have a hell of a time. Count me in.”
They all chuckled nervously. Foxmann knew none of them would back out. They were too proud and dedicated. Right now, he didn’t want to be on the earth with any other men than the ones that stood around him. He imagined the whole country would read of this exploit after it was over. If they succeeded, history would treat them as heroes. If they died, they would be martyrs. Either way, no one could accuse them of not giving full measure of their lives.
“What do you think would be the response once they realize we’re there?” Dahan asked.
“They’ll have a massive advantage, of course,” Foxmann said. “The one thing that we would have to expect would be a combined attack from the air and from the ground. They bring troops and choppers to land within the Mosque area and try to storm the gates. That would be the most difficult scenario to defend against. That’s why we’ll have shoulder-fired SAMs with reloads. Each attachment will have two launchers. I’m also going to increase our firepower. Instead of one general-purpose machine gun per 40 men, I’m going to make it one per ten. We’ll have ten machine guns, .30 caliber M240 types and we’ll also have ten squad automatic weapons in 5.56 caliber. I’m also going to request, even though we only have three of them, the XM25 punisher grenade launcher. These will prove most useful since we’re in a very built-up area. We’ll have plenty of ammunition to service these weapons with. We’re also going to have 20 more men with 40 millimeter grenade launchers. Double what we normally have. We’ll also have Claymore mines that will sit at the outer e
ntrances to the mosque. Now with what I’ve just said, does it mean that they can’t break through? With as much manpower as they’ll have, that’s certainly a possibility. But they’ll pay a heavy price.”
“Since this could be a one way trip,” David spoke up, “may I recommend we each have a cyanide capsule? None of us will want to get captured.”
“I’ll talk to Philpot and see if I can secure any. If not, we’ll just have to save a final bullet for ourselves.” He paused for a second and looked at them. “There’s one more thing I have to add. We’re only there to hold it, not to desecrate it. I know the men are highly disciplined but I don’t want them posting any kind of graffiti or doing any kind of physical damage to the place. That will only happen if our demands are not met or they storm the place.”
“This is a pretty good-sized area,” David said, “might we have one vehicle to get around?”
“We’ll have a small off-road vehicle dropped with us.”
“What is the military strength in and around Mecca?” David traced his hand around the outside of the mosque.
“Intel says about 5000 troops. Police forces are unknown. That could number up to 1000. As this is not the time for a major pilgrimage, we shouldn’t have a problem with crowds when we come down.”
“Prisoners?” Seagal asked.
“Only until we sweep the place clean. After that, we release them. No shooting unless they charge at us. Also, any security guards taken must be stripped of their weapons. I know that you’ve heard all this mumbo-jumbo before, but I just needed to emphasize it once more so that we don’t miss anything.” Foxmann looked at their faces, all of them looking at Mecca. Alone in their thoughts. “Any more questions?”
“What if some of us get hit really bad? Where we need to be in a hospital?” David said.
“I’m afraid that is not an option. Anyone hit bad, we’ll do the best we can. But you must emphasize with all of our men, there are no luxuries here.”