Kelly glanced at Ali/Faarooq momentarily, unable to suppress the fury in his eyes after witnessing the decrepit condition of his young operative. But there was nothing the CT chief could do at the moment. For the time being, they would have to treat Ali/Faarooq with kid gloves. But as soon as those metaphorical gloves could come off, Kelly would see to it that the man paid the ultimate price for his treachery.
“C.J., we need to know about the devices Udeen has developed?”
C.J. paused in thought ever-so-briefly, before proceeding. “Two bombs. At least that was what I was shown.”
“Decoys?” Kelly asked openly. C.J. shook his head slowly.
“Don’t think so” came the reply. C.J. proceeded to relate the grim details of the materials at Udeen’s disposal – the pale blue presence of liquid oxygen, canisters of deuterium and tritium acquired apparently on the black market. It was clear the materials for building a bomb such as that envisioned by Leo koval was well within their capability.
“How much material do they have?” Kelly asked. Udeen did still need a large quantity of 94 to set the stage for such a reaction.
“A lot, Bill. That mountain’s a treasure trove of fissile material. An entire mining operation is ongoing in there. They must have been at it for years, just the infrastructure alone…”
“Natural plutonium ore” Faarooq interjected. “Well, not quite Plutonium.” The terrorist said with a sly smile. C.J. had been shown just enough of the operation to sound convincing. He had served his purpose, and now the message was delivered.
“So now you know of our capabilities” Faarooq stated emphatically. It was time for the Americans to finally negotiate with terrorists.
“Bill, I didn’t see any delivery mechanism” C.J. interjected.
“No, you didn’t” Faarooq reassured his former colleagues. ”That’s because we don’t have one.”
“So finish them” C.J. said simply. “Their bunker’s not more than fifty feet deep…”
“You won’t dare, will you Bill?” Faarooq said confidently. C.J. had not been told of the seminal repercussions of the newest isotope of the element with atomic number 94.
“C.J., go on, get some rest. I’ll handle this” Kelly said to his battered agent. He had heard enough; it had to be assumed Udeen could indeed vaporize the planet. Two undercover agents beckoned C.J. back to the main avenue, but the former hostage wouldn’t budge.
“He just admitted there’s no delivery mechanism!” C.J. pointed at Faarooq while addressing Kelly. “What the hell are we waiting for?!”
“Why don’t you tell him, Bill” Faarooq said. When no immediate response came from the CT chief, C.J. promptly asked “Tell me what?”
It was Faarooq who answered the question. “Our bomb is big enough to destroy the planet, my friend. That’s why you, Bill, the President, and the world will do as we say.”
A brief silence punctuated the air.
“Is that true?” C.J. finally asked, incredulously.
“I’m afraid so” answered Kelly.
C.J. now turned towards Faarooq with a look that was beyond hatred…it was a look of death. Without hesitation, his hand closed into a fist and with frightful quickness hurled himself at the terrorist, his knuckle connecting squarely with the terrorist’s jaw as he let out a visceral cry. Ali/Faarooq flew backwards and landed hard on the grass of the mall.
“You’re not my fuckin friend!” C.J. screamed as he eyed the stricken man with an intense, black coolness. Turning back to Kelly now, more softly, he added “That was for A.J. I’d have killed him, but I gather you’ll need him alive.” The words were said almost matter-of-factly. He was in full control of his emotions and his actions. Impressively, the paroxysm of rage had left as quickly as it had appeared.
C.J. had learned of his brother’s death from the other agents immediately upon his release. Kelly preferred his young operative not learn of this news right away, figuring it would be wise to allow the former captive some time to recover and heal from his own ordeal. But obviously C.J. had demanded to know of A.J.’s condition from the other operatives, who would not dare withhold the truth from their comrade.
As Kelly listened to his young agent, all he could do was nod in agreement. The CT chief was just as dumbfounded and surprised by both the outburst, and the calm, measured coolness in the young operative’s voice that followed. C.J. may have lost his pride and innocence in Africa, but his resolve and clear-headedness were undiminished. It was a demonstrable level of maturity far beyond his years, and something one could rarely measure despite the grueling physical and mental training a special forces soldier received. Kelly was impressed - and it was not easy to impress the seasoned, cagey veteran. C.J., should he agree to remain in the agency, would be a force to be reckoned with for years to come.
Without further ado, C.J. turned around and walked back to Constitution Avenue. By now several bystanders had begun to congregate and watch the commotion. Kelly immediately spoke into his radio, and local authorities and agency personnel quickly dispersed the onlookers.
Faarooq slowly made his way to his feet, wiped a collection of blood from his mouth, and addressed Kelly. No attempt was made to retaliate for the vicious blow he had just received; the terrorist was focused on other matters. The configuration of his mouth as he spoke indicated structural damage to the stricken jaw.
“Now. Isn’t there something you need to do?” Ali uttered through clenched teeth, a noticable grimace on his face.
Kelly looked at his watch. Hopefully, Mack had made some progress in Africa. It wouldn’t be long now before the forces supporting his operative’s position would be recalled. Kelly took out his handheld radio, and began speaking. “The weather is too hot.”
“Roger, please say again.” Came the reply over the airwaves.
“The weather is too hot” Kelly repeated slower, emphasizing every syllable.
“Message received. Too hot; roger.”
Kelly now eyed the terrorist as he spoke. “Okay, I’ve called back the strike.” The communiqué was made more for Faarooq’s benefit than anything else - the fighters already had clear instructions not to fire upon Udeen’s positions until further notice. But that was not enough to appease the terrorist.
“I’ve received word our position has been isolated from the air.” Faarooq stated. “You get those fighters back. I want all forces gone from the area.” The demand came just as the terrorist again was forced to wipe a trickle of blood from his mouth.
“That’ll take some time. I’ll need to meet with…”
“You have 6 hours to begin the withdrawal. Go meet with your President.”
“And then what?” Kelly asked. Faarooq had a puzzled expression on his face, prompting Kelly to elaborate. “We withdraw, you escape with your bombs…and then what?”
“I have no idea”
It was the truth; Faarooq had not thought that far ahead. Udeen was saved, indeed the world was saved…for now. As for how the military and political negotiations would play out, the terrorist truly had no idea. Only two other nations, the United States and Russia, had the firepower to destroy the planet, and none as swiftly as that which his fellow brethren now had in their possession. It was the ultimate deterrent, and the existence of such a force was all he had intended to convey. How Udeen’s position would fare on a global, political stage, as another nuclear power - superpower one could argue - was anyone’s guess.
President Groves sat at his desk, pondering what his nation’s military leaders had proposed. There was still too much risk, he surmised. The evidence now overwhelmingly indicated Udeen was in possession of a bomb capable of extinguishing life on the planet; could he really take a chance on a strategy that had yet to be proven in battle? Even if this new weapon of theirs could do what the military claimed, Udeen’s bomb might still be resistant to such an attack.
Groves moved slowly, as if hindered physically by the weight of a great decision. His hand gradually made its way to the pho
ne on his desk – a direct line to the Pentagon.
“Yes Mr. President”. It was General Fitzpatrick.
“General, we need to know more about that bomb.”
“Yes” Agreed Fitzpatrick. A pause ensued, as the General awaited a more pointed answer from the commander-in-chief.
“At this time, my answer is no.” Groves spoke with confidence as he put the military’s proposal on the backburner.
“Understood, sir.” Fitzpatrick would give no argument on this issue. The decision was not one that could be arrived at through persuasion and influence. In this particular case, with so much at stake, all the chairman dared do was provide the facts as best he knew them, and let his President make the decision. But the answer was not exactly what he had expected. Groves did not summarily dismiss the tactic. In fact, he seemed willing to take a chance on their new weapon of war; it was the present lack of intelligence that seemed to sway the man’s decision. The major obstacle was simply that they did not know enough about the specifics of the 94 bomb designs Udeen employed. A sophisticated attack required sophisticated intelligence – it was that simple. And that meant that they would have to wait for Kelly and his men, to see what they might learn and what they might accomplish on the ground near Udeen’s base of operations. They must know the designs of that bomb before the President would entertain any such notions as Fitzpatrick was now proposing.
A knock on the door jarred the General’s attention.
“Yes?”
“Sir, it’s Langely” said the chairman’s assistant.
“Very well. Patch them in, colonel.” The latest intelligence was relayed to Fitzpatrick, who hung up the phone with a defeated look on his face. They would have to begin withdrawing their air surveillance within hours. Once the skies were clear, the terrorists would be free to slip away, much like Al Qaeda and the Taliban had done years earlier. If they ever hoped to decisively defeat this organization, then time was quickly running out.
It did not take long for Mack to learn from his captives that access to the weapon would be impossible without a full-scale assault, and doing so would surely alert the Sayf Udeen leadership. Regardless, breaching the main Udeen complex was a non-starter for the squadron of six CIA operatives. Alternatively, access to the Udeen research labs was within the realm of possibility. These too would be fortified, but less so with the advancing US forces, which now shifted the balance of Udeen’s manpower elsewhere. Furthermore, R&D had now taken a back seat at the organization since the bomb was already assembled and ready to go. This meant access to the element 94 files, weapons designs, and even the scientists themselves might well be within reach.
“Zulu one, we need a diversion at position zero six zero” Mack said into his transmitter. The aircraft carrier Harry S. Truman received the message, and the coordinates were immediately relayed to a pair of fighters already en route to the area. Precision-guided munitions soon rained down at exactly the point Mack had specified, sending Udeen guards reeling to the anti-aircraft batteries to fend off the assault that now came ever-closer to the Udeen complex.
“Okay, Stevie, you’ve got a clear path inside.” Mack said to his operative just outside the Udeen research facility. The entrance to the cave Azeez directed them towards had been left unguarded following the strike.
The amount of information the terrorist Azeez had at his disposal impressed the American forces. Entrances and exits were scattered across the mountain range, with many openings serving as decoys, leading any intruders to dead ends hundreds of feet into the mountains. But their captive knew the schematics of the access routes intimately, and guided Stevie and his two companions to what was the heart of the Udeen nuclear program. Another line of defense, however, now loomed in their way.
“Okay, we’ve got one...wait, make that two marks guarding a door” Stevie whispered into his radio.
“Hang on” said the voice on the other end of the transmission. Mack would now be conferring with Azeez and the other hostages, eliciting whatever information he could before instructing his men to proceed.
“Stevie, he’s never been beyond those doors. Can’t tell you what to expect on the other side.”
“Roger. We’re going in.” There was no other choice.
Stevie and his two companions incapacitated the two guards, and made their way into Abul’s main laboratory. It was like stepping through a portal to another world. Suddenly, the ground was smooth with finished concrete, and sophisticated laboratory and computer equipment dotted the surface of the workbenches. Stevie began taking snapshots of the surroundings with his digital camera. He documented the huge centrifuges for spinning materials at super-high speeds, an x-ray diffraction machine and neutron source for subatomic experimentation, a spectrometer for elemental isotope analysis, and so forth.
“Hey!” one of the CTG operatives whispered in Stevie’s direction. The man was beckoning him to the far end of the room, where another doorway was located – this one heading even deeper into the mountain laboratory. Stevie quietly ordered his man to examine the door. It was unlocked. With a nod of his head, he motioned for the operative to continue and make his way through the entrance. Two M-16s were quickly trained on the opened doorway, ready for anyone that might be on the other side. A soft blue light could be seen emanating from the hallway beyond, which lead into yet another enclosure. The entire place seemed deserted, the silence indicating perhaps the lab was now abandoned. Stevie walked towards the doorway, and was about to step through when a sound broke the stillness in the dank underground facility; it was the sound of footsteps.
Abul Kayr, the chief Udeen nuclear scientist, walked towards the lab adjoining his personal quarters, surprised to find the door ajar. Did he forget to close it before retiring that evening? He made his way to the door, looked inside his lab for a moment, and flipped a switch on the wall. As the light turned on, three American soldiers, in a spread formation with weapons at the ready, greeted him.
“Don’t move” Stevie commanded softly in Arabic. The person before him was tall and lean, with a pale olive complexion that bespoke of a lifestyle spent toiling indoors, away from the glare of the sun. The squint in his eyes when he first approached without his corrective lenses was now gone; they were agape with surprise.
“Who else is here?” Stevie inquired of the academic. The CTG veteran did not know if there were others about. The scientist quickly grasped the situation, and responded “I am alone.” The two remaining operatives quickly searched Abul’s private quarters, and confirmed the man spoke the truth.
“Who are you?” Stevie now asked the Arab in a normal tone of voice, comfortable that there were no immediate threats lurking about.
“You are American, no?” Abul responded with a question of his own. Stevie nodded his head.
“I am Abul Kayr, chief scientist here.” Stevie was somewhat surprised by the man’s forthrightness.
“Dr. Kayr, we are taking you into our custody.” Stevie announced. The team gathered whatever electronic files they could, and made their way back to their temporary camp, where Mack and the others awaited their arrival.
Abul Kayr was found to be most compliant, offering no resistance and seemingly even relieved to divulge to the Americans what he knew of the Udeen research efforts. Mack and the others soon learned a “master bomb” of sorts had indeed been developed. The physicist had sought to maximize the destructive potential of 94 by overlaying his newer designs with those of old, namely heavy hydrogen secondaries. But the ramifications of such a weapon went far beyond the theoretical calculations he had initially conceived as the test blast data was analyzed. The scientist had achieved a destructive force surpassing even his wildest imagination – and he was terrified. The prospect of Udeen extinguishing mankind from the planet was not a responsibility that sat well with the man, despite his fundamentalist leanings. And so the academic extremist complied with the intruders that awakened him on this evening, hoping to avoid the potential terror he had set in motio
n. But he could not imagine of what value such information as he was now divulging might serve. For Abul Kayr knew everything about the bomb he had designed and built, except how to stop it.
Chapter 15
“Bill, what did your men find out?” Fitzpatrick asked of the counter-terror chief. There were now under two hours before Udeen’s demands for a full withdrawal had to be met.
“We’ve got the man who designed the bomb. General, what exactly is it you want to know?”
“I need to know what electronics are on board.”
“It’s a fairly complex system, with several charges distributed around the periphery of the primary core in an implosion-like configuration, all synchronized by a processor linked to a receptive sensor. This sensor is designed to be triggered by a radiowave – a signal from something akin to a standard cellphone is all it would take to initiate the reaction. But we can’t jam the frequency under that mountain – it’s impossible.”
“Yes, I know. Bill, there is an alternative.” Fitzpatrick looked at President Groves now, who nodded back. The bomb was sophisticated – in fact, so sophisticated that the plan just might work. The general continued on: “In two hours, we won’t have the surveillance to contain Udeen. Ra’ed and the rest of them will escape into those hills and melt away into the population.”
“What are you suggesting, General?” Kelly asked. Fitzpatrick walked over to the map on the front of the planning room, which depicted Udeen’s current positions.
“Right now, we’ve got them nailed down to this corridor. The closest civilian territories are here” The general pointed to an area some 30 miles away on the screen. That opens up a viable option which my colleagues and I have been mulling for some time now…” Kelly finished hearing what it was the military had in mind. He suddenly realized why it was so important to the General to learn of the specifics of the Udeen device. Mack’s intelligence was critical; without the knowledge the Udeen scientist provided, they would never consider such a strategy.
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