“Don’t you think Udeen would have communicated this information by now had they knowledge of such consequences?” General Fitzpatrick asked. “And even if they know - It takes man-made isotopes of hydrogen to produce such a device. If they truly had it, don’t you think we’d have known by now?” The man did make an excellent point, Kelly thought. Perhaps Udeen was unaware of the possibilities, or perhaps they just had yet to inform the world of the existence of such a force. Either way, they must proceed with utmost caution.
“Perhaps. But again, if they do have such a weapon, if such a weapon exists, and it is ignited in a desperate measure of self-defense, then it’s the end, the world as we know it is gone.” Turning now to the commander-in-chief, Kelly asked pointedly “Is that a risk we are willing to take?” The answer was a foregone conclusion.
“So I ask you again”, Groves said out loud, looking at no one in particular but clearly directing the question at Kelly and Fitzpatrick, “what do you propose we do.” Kelly was the first to respond.
“We wait. Until we get the appropriate intel, we’ve got no choice.”
“How do you figure to obtain that?” General Fitzpatrick asked.
“I’ve got my S & R team already in position” Kelly responded, turning away from the military man and adding for the benefit of the others assembled “search and rescue”.
“Well, their priorities just changed” Groves announced.” Turning then to Fitzpatrick, the President added decisively “General, belay the strike order until we have more clarity what it is we are up against”
“Aasim, what are they doing now?” Ra’ed asked. The roar of fighter jets overhead had been heard for over an hour, along with the occasional detonation of precision-guided munitions.
"They seem to be striking the perimeter. It will be tricky navigating our way out, but I think it can be done.” The stronghold had not received a single direct hit, which struck the guard as peculiar.
“I’m staying, Aasim. And so are you.” Ra’ed said peremptorily.
“What?” came the surprised response from the Udeen loyalist. Aasim would never disobey his leader, but he had long ago sworn to keep Ra’ed safe, and it was his duty now to question the command before him.
“I’m not going anywhere, my friend. Just keep the radar active and the lookouts in place.”
“Sir, the radar will…”
“I know – it will allow their bombs and missiles to hone in on our positions. Tell the men not to worry. If our radar batteries are targeted, you let me know. If anything, a bomb, missile, a bullet, anything, comes this way, you let me know.” Ra’ed was prepared to play the ultimate martyr.
“Sayid, if we leave now we can escape. The others will hold the Americans long enough…”
“Aasim, there are things afoot which you do not understand. The Americans will restrain their attack for the time being. If Faarooq is able to do what he says, then we will all make our way to safety soon enough. Just maintain an open line of communication, and do as I have asked.” The words were spoken with confidence, and served to quell the Udeen fighter’s unease.
“As you wish” Aasim replied as he showed himself out of the chamber.
As Ra’ed was left alone to ponder his plight, a bomb sounded in the distance, this time closer and powerful enough to send vibrations through the mountainous stronghold. Would their strategy work? The Udeen chieftain thought to himself. The plan ultimately rested with Faarooq – had his brother accomplished what he set out to do? Establishing communication was critical to hold the American forces in check.
The Udeen chieftain removed the triggering device and held it before him. It was a standard digital cell phone, programmed to send a radiowave that would trigger the massive bomb Abul had assembled below. If Faarooq failed, there would be only one option left. The fate of the world now rested in the palm of his hand.
The CTG team made their way through the treacherous mountain pass, guided by Azeez and his fellow Udeen hostages. They now found themselves overlooking a deep valley, heavily fortified with armed soldiers, antiaircraft batteries, and radar towers. Much of the machinery was mobile, although the men brazenly displayed their equipment in full view.
“That’ll make one easy target,” Mack thought to himself. Once they retrieved C.J., the military could finish this thing from the air.
“Mack, its Bill”. A radio was handed to the operations chief.
“Yeah, how much time we got?”
“Not much. Mack, your mission has changed.” Kelly began to relate the horrors of 94 to the burly soldier. His team was now to infiltrate and assess Udeen’s capabilities, collect whatever intelligence they could on the weapon, and disable the bomb if at all possible. They were to rescue C.J. only if it didn’t compromise the mission. The operative’s fate was secondary.
“You’ll have a direct link to the Truman” Kelly continued on, in reference to the aircraft carrier off the Western coast of Africa. “They’ll provide air support, create a diversion, anything. Just keep away from any direct strike on their camps. If they think we are initiating a full attack, they just might set that thing off.”
It took Mack a while to recover from the unimaginable news that had just been relayed. When he did manage to muster a reply, the only thing that came out of his mouth was a terse “Roger”. In one feel swoop, his entire modus operandi had again shifted. The ops chief knew he would need to elicit a whole new set of information from the Udeen hostages in their custody. If a super-bomb did indeed exist, then they would have to formulate some way of infiltrating what was sure to be a heavily fortified holding room and defuse the device.
“Mack, you can’t go in there guns blazing to get C.J. or do anything until we find out what it is we’re up against. I have a feeling only their top people and scientists know the specifics of the weapon, so you’ll have to get your hands on someone senior, and you’ll have to do it quietly.”
“We’ve already got a layout of the stronghold from our captives here. Their R&D facility is adjoining, but has a separate approach – I think we can focus our efforts there and gain access to the facility.”
“Okay…” Kelly stopped in mid-sentence as another voice in the control center arrested his attention.
“Sir!”
“What is it?” Kelly asked the technician.
“We’ve got your operative.” The CT chief looked at the monitor at the front of the room, flabbergasted.
“Son-of-a-bitch!” Kelly blurted out loud.
“What is it?” Mack now asked his boss. The line to Langley was still open, and the field agent had overheard the brief exchange.
“Ali’s on the move” answered Kelly.
“Where?”
“Headed East…Shit, how did we miss him?”
“East where?”
“Here.”
Chapter 14
Kelly arrived at his desk to find several messages that demanded his attention. The majority could be put off, but there was one in particular that took the CT chief by surprise. “Mall entrance, 20th and Constitution, 1 pm”. The faxed transmission was signed A.N.
“When did this arrive?” Kelly asked his assistant, a sense of urgency in his voice.
“This morning, why?”
The only response that came out of the Kelly’s mouth was a curt “shit” as he scampered back to his desk. The clock in his office read 11:55 AM; there wasn’t much time.
The offices of the Joint Chiefs of Staff now buzzed with activity. General Hugh Fitzpatrick and his senior staff, along with the other top commanders of the nation’s military now gathered round the large conference table to discuss how to deal with Sayf Udeen if such a bomb as had been described by the nation’s counter-terror chief did indeed exist. The strategy session had been ongoing for some time, with little progress. The use of stealth vehicles was proposed, but discounted due to their ability to be detected visually (even the several minutes warning before any destructive, precision bomb could be deployed from
such an asset was determined to be an unacceptable risk). Another option put forth and summarily discounted was a cruise missile. It was a weapon that flew low to the ground under the cover of radar and could strike without warning…well, with minimal warning, Fitzpatrick corrected himself. The flaming tail of the weapon could still be seen at nighttime, even without infrared technology; was that a risk they were willing to take? Udeen was sure to have spotters scattered throughout the region; the President would never agree with the fate of the world hanging in the balance.
“There must be another option” the General implored his colleagues from the armed services.
“Sir, I do believe there may be a way.” It was one of the admirals that had accompanied the Navy chief of staff. The pair had been surprisingly quiet up until this point, but now displayed their ingenuity while relating the latest in a novel series of weapons systems initially developed and tested by the Air Force. The proposed modality had never before been tested in combat.
“Will it penetrate through that mountain?” Fitzpatrick asked.
“It can gain access to any bunker through ventilation shafts and antennas” the admiral responded in his typical, no-bullshit fashion.
“From what range?”
“Thousand meters.”
Addressing now the chief of staff for the navy, Fitzpatrick asked pointedly “How sure are you of this weapon? The error margin on this one has got to be zero, Jack”.
John “Jack” Swoopes was a straight shooter, and commanded confidence as he spoke.
“Nothing is absolute sir, you know that. But if you can confirm the design of this…this bomb we’re up against” the Navy admiral began with a serious, stolid look on his face, “then I can reassure you it will buy you the time you need”
Admiral Swoopes was careful to qualify his remarks as he described the ramifications of this latest weapon of war to those assembled in the chairman’s office. An hour later, a tentative plan was in place. It was the United States military’s last, best and only option to address the present crisis. But there was not a single one among the military leaders gathered who could reasonably gauge their odds of success without more data on the specs of the weapon they were up against. Would any one of them dare risk, quite literally, everything on a plan that was anything but a near absolute certainty? More importantly, would President Groves? They all knew the answer even before the proposal would be presented to their commander-in-chief.
“Is everyone in place?” Kelly asked into the hidden microphone on his collar. It was now 1PM, and he was making his way to the designated rendezvous point.
“Roger” came the replies from the agents in the field
“John, where is he?” Kelly asked the Hermes technician, who was also patched in to the frequency.
“Five meters from you, Bill.”
Kelly swiveled his head about, but could not make out any sign of the man he expected to engage. The Washington D.C. mall was littered with tourists on this sunny, crisp weekend afternoon, and distinguishing anyone through the crowds was a daunting task.
“Bill, how are you?” Came a voice from behind. It was Ali, bearded and well disguised. Kelly turned around to find a handgun brazenly pointed in his direction, barely concealed by the sleeve of a long overcoat.
“Ali, I’ve been expecting you. Or should I say Faarooq?”
“Very good, Bill.” The terrorist said with a smile, then adding more sternly “We need to talk.”
“Oh, do we? Tell me, why should I agree to have anything to do with you except take you in, right here, right now?”
“Here’s why”, Faarooq replied as he reached with his free hand into his coat-pocket, withdrawing a photograph.
“Where is he?” Kelly asked as he saw the picture of C.J., blindfolded and gagged, hands tied behind his back.
“First we talk”
“Public meeting place, blackmailing me on a subject you know I’d be sensitive to… I taught you well”
“You taught me shit, Bill. Now shut up and listen to me!” The terrorist seemed harried as he spoke. Kelly could tell the man had not slept in some time, although he knew his former lead operative well; the man’s mind and reflexes would still be crisp and alert. This was a wily and skillful adversary.
“Apparently, I didn’t teach you well enough. Put that gun down, now!” Kelly said forcefully. A click could be heard. Faarooq jerked his head around, and then calmly looked back at Kelly, placing the weapon in its holster, a look of understanding on his face.
“You weren’t kidding.” Faarooq said, referring to Kelly’s previous statement. Sitting on a bench along the windy path of the grasslands of the mall, behind their present position, was an undercover agent with a concealed gun at the ready.
“Like I said, I was expecting you. You’re totally surrounded. You don’t think I’d have let you get back in this country without having you followed, do you?” Kelly now seemed to wrest control of the moment, eliciting a momentary panicked expression from the terrorist. Faarooq quickly regained his composure, but Kelly took notice of the desperation on the part of his former colleague. Ali/Faarooq was a man whose skill set was such that he would be virtually impossible to track. Yet Kelly seemed well prepared for his arrival. Ali must not know of the chip he carried, Kelly surmised. Hermes was likely not compromised despite the intrusion in the STAT lab that fateful day.
“Now where’s C.J.?” Kelly demanded.
“First I need you to call off the strike, Bill. One of those planes is going to drop a bomb, and things are going to get beyond everyone’s control. Do it now, or else…”
“Ali, I won’t do a damn thing until I get my man back.”
“Okay Bill, he’s right on constitution. Brown van.” Faarooq replied. Kelly’s gamble had seemingly worked. Kelly’s eyes grew wide as C.J.’s location was disclosed. Men swarmed over to the vehicle parked not more than 100 feet away, broke open the back door of the van, and peered within. Inside, a blindfolded, restrained C.J. sat quietly on the floor, his back against the side of the vehicle.
“How does he look?” Kelly asked as he saw his men remove the restraints and escort his agent off the van. He couldn’t make out the young operative’s condition from his present vantage.
“He’s nicked up pretty good, but he’ll be fine.” Responded the voice on the radio. Turning now to Faarooq, Kelly addressed his former operative.
“Thank you for that. What is it you want?” Why would this enemy just give up it’s most important bargaining tool? Wondered Kelly. What was Ali/Faarooq up to?
“I think you know” Faarooq answered. It was about element 94. “Call off the hounds.”
“Ali, you’re finished.”
“No! It is you who will be finished! Now you must know what we do. But in case you do not…We’ve got more than enough material, weaponized, to bring us all down. Did your scientists not tell you of the remarkable potential of this new isotope?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about” Kelly lied. He wanted to tease out just what his former operative had to say on the subject.
“Don’t bullshit me, Bill. You and I both know this stuff can destroy the planet. Now you don’t want that, and we don’t want that. But if the men in those fighters persist, that’s exactly what’s going to happen. Call them off, Bill.” The military had virtually encircled Udeen’s power base with a cordon of air power until the 94 situation could be clarified. Now one piece of the puzzle was quickly apparent – Udeen did indeed know of the materials’ potential. But did that necessarily mean they had a working prototype, ready to ignite the planet at a moment’s notice?
“Our scientists say 110 kilos of the material, concentrated in a chamber of liquid oxygen around a core of deuterium-tritium is enough to propagate a chain reaction that will destroy the world.” Faarooq continued on, now accurately detailing the specifics of the design of such a weapon, just as Leo Koval had feared. “Now you may have figured how to detect this stuff Bill, but you are
still vulnerable, trust me. This weapon doesn’t need to be packed into a missile, or smuggled somewhere to deliver its payload. It can kill you all from right where it is, in the heart of our camps. Now if you don’t believe me, bring C.J. over here and ask him yourself.”
So that was why Ali had released the man into their custody. It finally made sense - C.J. was the only person Kelly would believe that could reliably verify Udeen did indeed have such capability.
“I need to speak to C.J. Now” Kelly ordered into his radio.
C.J. was escorted between two men in plainclothes attire towards the center of the mall. It took the trio five minutes to reach Kelly and Faarooq, who remained silent while the former captive was brought forth to corroborate Ali’s testimony. Kelly could see that C.J. had been tortured, the heavy bruising about the face and intensely blue/black wrists indicative of a long and arduous bondage. The vigorous and eager soldier Kelly had recruited just a short time ago was gone, replaced by a beaten and worn captive.
“C.J., I can’t express in words how good it is to have you back. How are you?” Kelly asked as his operative arrived. Kelly remained stoic, suppressing the emotions that would normally have bubbled to the surface had he first seen his young soldier after such a long period of captivity. The presence of the terrorist traitor and the serious business at hand had changed all that; perhaps there would be time for such a moment later.
“Pissed, Bill. These motherfuckers nailed me twice.” C.J. said dismayed, almost embarrassed, in front of his chief.
That was good news, Kelly thought to himself. If embarrassment was the dominant feeling the man now felt, he was well on his way to healing from what must have been a horrendous ordeal; and it bespoke of the man’s tremendous resilience.
“C.J., you are a true hero, no matter what you or anyone else for that matter might think. I don’t know of many people, myself included, would have been able to endure what you did.” It was the highest accolade the CT chief could possibly have delivered. The words appeared to have a salutary effect, as the young operative’s head lifted higher, his chest expanded by a deep breath of air.
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