by James Rosone
“Essentially, what they did was use fake fingerprints that matched the biometrics of German citizens who these passports actually belonged to. The problem is, these German citizens are all currently serving various prison sentences in Germany, so there would be no way they could travel to the US with their passports. Someone swapped out the facial images on the passports with those of the attackers, then gave them fake fingerprints to place over their real ones, kind of like tape. That way, when their fingerprints were scanned, they’d match the fingerprints on the electronic chip in the passports and the German government’s own database, which allows DHS to carry out a one-for-one verification when one of their citizens travels to the US.”
Joe held up a hand. “So, how did the NSA know these were spoofed?”
Ashley explained how the facial images captured at the US port of entry matched several images the DoD had on record as belonging to members of ISIS or one of the other Islamic extremist groups. She showed Joe how some of these individuals had previously traveled through Ankara, Turkey, during the heyday of ISIS, and then a few other times they had been captured by either drone surveillance or other countries’ passport control points.
“Once they knew one of the entries was spoofed, they immediately checked all of the passports of every German, and then every other EU passport holder that entered the US over the last ninety days. That’s how they found the other attackers. It’s also how they found the identities of the Halloween attackers before they were able to carry out their attacks. Once they knew what to look for, they were able to quickly figure out what passports were spoofed versus those that weren’t. The NSA essentially hacked into the German prison system and compared the biometrics of the passports against the people currently serving a prison sentence.”
“If this is true, then the terrorists must have had help from someone in Germany—someone who has some serious pull within their government,” Joe said. He continued to look over the information Ashley was giving him. Much of what she’d handed him was classified top secret/ORCON by the NSA.
“Well, as you know, that EO was only good for a couple of days, so Leah’s group used it for all it’s worth,” Ashley said. “They hacked into the BND system and discovered someone within German intelligence had assisted the attackers with the spoofed biometrics and passports.” There, she’d said it. She’d dropped the bombshell discovery the NSA had just told her about right before the terrorist attacks.
Joe looked at Ashley for a moment, calculating what he’d just been told. She could see the conflict in his face, and she was pretty sure she had an idea of what he was thinking, since she had thought the same things. The electronic evidence the NSA had provided was pretty convincing, but it just didn’t jibe with what they knew of the Germans. It made no sense.
“How does any of this fit with what we know, Ashley?” Joe finally asked. “I mean, what’s the endgame here? The Germans helping Islamic extremists infiltrate the US to carry out a terrorist attack? The Chinese stealing mail-in and absentee ballots, and the Russians carrying out all sorts of cyber-attacks and misinformation campaigns against the country? We’re missing something here, Ashley, and we need to figure out what it is before we provide this report to the President.”
Ashley nodded. They had most of the pieces to this jigsaw puzzle, but they still couldn’t fully decipher the larger image.
*******
Cleveland, Ohio
Senator Marshall Tate’s Campaign Headquarters
Watching the horrific scenes of the attack in Orlando, at Downtown Disney of all places, Marshall couldn’t help but wonder if this was all being orchestrated for his benefit.
Was I wrong to oppose the President in postponing the election? he wondered. All of these people were dead now, and he’d done nothing to stop it.
He shook his head. He knew it wasn’t his fault. It was the FBI and Homeland Security who had failed to identify these attackers and prevent them from carrying out this dastardly attack.
Jerome Powell, his Chief of Staff, walked up and sat down on the empty chair next to him. He muted the TV. “When you win tonight, you’ll have a chance to go after the monsters responsible for this,” he said as he placed a hand on the senator’s shoulder.
Marshall snorted at the comment. “It won’t bring any of the people back who died today,” he retorted.
“No, but it’ll make the rest of the country feel good, and it’ll solidify you as a decisive Commander-in-Chief,” Jerome countered.
“You really think we’re going to win today? Even in spite of everything that’s happened?” Marshall asked.
Jerome smiled at the question. “Of course we’re going to win. I don’t mean to be crass, but these attacks aren’t exactly taking place in Democratic strongholds.”
“That’s a terrible thing to say, Jerome,” Marshall shot back. “They’re still Americans.”
Not looking the least bit hurt by the rebuke, Jerome replied, “They are Americans—Americans that would have voted against you and, in all likelihood, would have opposed you once you won. I’m not saying it’s good that they were killed. I’m just saying these attacks are going to seriously depress the voter turnout in these districts, and probably the rest of the country. Low voter turnout favors us, Marshall.”
Shaking his head, Marshall shot back, “I don’t even know what to say to that—don’t ever trivialize people like that in front of me again. Do you understand?”
Jerome solemnly nodded.
“I agree we’re probably going to win, but we’re still going to need to deal with the aftermath of this attack. We can’t come across like this helped us and hurt Sachs or it’ll be seen as us supporting or condoning it. That’s a line we cannot cross,” Marshall said with a sternness in his voice that Jerome had rarely heard.
Jerome nodded again but didn’t say anything further. Instead, he got up and made a few calls on his smartphone to get a feel for how the attacks were affecting voter turnout in some of the other key states and districts they were monitoring.
*******
Arlington, Virginia
Pentagon
Secretary of Defense McElroy walked back into the National Military Command Center after receiving an urgent call from the duty officer. It was now 1707 hours, and while no additional terrorist attacks had happened, the country was still reeling from the slaughter that had taken place in the morning.
McElroy identified the officer who’d called him and walked up to him. “What’s going on, General?” he asked.
The Air Force brigadier general had a phone to his ear; he moved it down to his shoulder. “We’ve got a problem up north near the Canadian border, sir,” he said.
“What problem?” McElroy asked, crossing his arms.
The general held an index finger up as he spoke into the phone.
“You tell those pilots if those Fullbacks cross into US air space again, they’re cleared to engage them. We’ve already informed the Canadians and the rest of the world that US air space is closed to anything but military traffic. Any transgression of that will be treated as hostile.”
The general then hung up the phone and turned back to face the SecDef. “Sir, there’s a serious issue.” He paused for a second to take a swig of water. “As you know, the Canadians are hosting a large UN training exercise right now.”
The SecDef nodded. “Yeah, we’ve known about this for the better part of the year. So, what’s going on that’s caused you to call me down here?” he asked, a little irritated that the general wasn’t just getting to the point.
“Well, sir, when we closed US air space after the terrorist attacks and moved the country to DEFCON 3, our air space along the Canadian border has been getting probed on and off all day by several squadrons of Russian and Chinese aircraft. We’ve even had a pair of German Eurofighter Typhoons penetrate our airspace and buzz Fort Drum.”
A look of shock came across McElroy’s face. “When the hell did that happen, and why wasn’t I told?” he demanded.
Looking a bit flustered, the general replied, “Um, that happened about three hours ago, but what’s really caused a problem and a near shoot-down is what occurred ten minutes ago. A pair of Russian Fullbacks, Su-34s, penetrated our airspace in North Dakota and carried out what we can only infer was a simulated attack run on Minot Air Force Base.”
McElroy could feel his face flush red with anger. “Holy crap—that’s a nuke base!” he roared. “Get me the base commander now, and someone else get me the President. He has to know about this!”
A moment later, the red phone was handed to him, and he angrily grabbed the receiver.
“Mr. President, we have a serious problem and I need your authorization to handle it,” he said forcefully. For the next couple of minutes, he brought the President up to speed.
Sachs was furious. “I’m going to place a call to the Canadian Prime Minister and the Secretary-General at the UN right now. I’ll tell them that if any additional aircraft participating in their little training exercise penetrate US air space again, or even come close to one of our military installations, it will be shot down! After all that has gone on today, for them to run military drills unannounced against our military bases…no, Chuck. You tell our fighters to attack any aircraft that penetrate our air space until we downgrade our defense posture. We still don’t know if there are more attacks planned.” The President then hung up the phone, presumably to go chew out the Canadian PM and that pompous UN Secretary-General.
After hanging up the red phone, Chuck signaled that he wanted the phone that connected him to the base commander at Minot. When he finally got through to the colonel, he explained to him in no uncertain terms that if another foreign fighter buzzed his base again, he’d be relieved on the spot and forced into retirement.
The colonel hastily replied, “Mr. Secretary, I have a fleet of B-52 bombers and missile silos, but I don’t have any fighters or air-defense systems here. How am I supposed to shoot down foreign fighters that attempt to fly over my facility?”
That’s a damn good question, thought Chuck angrily.
“Colonel, wait one moment,” he said as he quickly turned to the duty officer. “What’s the nearest fighter assets we have to Minot that can deploy right now?”
Looking at a clipboard that one of the senior NCOs handed him, the general replied, “We have the 366th Fighter Wing out of Mountain Home, Idaho. It’s an F-15E wing. We’ve also got the 388th Fighter Wing out of Hill Air Force Base, Utah. They’re an F-35 wing.”
“Tell the wing commander out of Hill to get some F-35s up there now,” the SecDef demanded. “I want his wing to start providing round-the-clock coverage of the border until told otherwise. Also, tell the wing commander at Mountain Home to get his birds up there too. Those Russian and Chinese aircraft probably won’t see the F-35s, but they sure as hell will see the F-15s. Tell them I want their search radars on to make sure everyone across the border knows we’re on to their little games.” A flurry of activity began to take place.
McElroy thought for a moment. All of this was happening under the auspices of the UN and in full coordination with the Canadians. Crap—there’s Canadians at NORAD, he realized.
“Get me the commander at NORAD,” he barked. “Also, send an alert to our guys over at Eastern Air Defense Sector in Rome, New York. Tell them that until further notice, they’re to lock out their Canadian counterparts. I want them escorted from the facility.
“When all this crap gets cleared up, they can return to work with my sincerest apologies, but for right now, I’m not going to allow the Canadians to see what type of air defense we’re coordinating in response to this aggression being carried out by this UN exercise. The last thing we need is for them to have an inside track into what we’re doing. Is that understood?”
The color drained from the Air Force duty officer’s face. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry—we hadn’t even thought about that. They probably saw our response, or rather lack thereof, when those Eurofighters buzzed Drum and figured they could do the same with Minot. Hell, they’ve had a complete mirror image of what NORAD’s seeing, so they’ve known all along where our fighters are currently positioned.” He let out a stream of expletives. “If that had been a real attack, they could’ve sacked most of our nuclear capability.”
McElroy nodded. “Exactly. Get those links cut off. We can reestablish them after this UN exercise is done, but for the time being, we’re not allowing the nations participating in the exercise to have access to NORAD or know our full capabilities.”
Chuck shook his head in frustration and anger. How much have the Russians and Chinese possibly seen already? he thought.
*******
New York, New York
UN Headquarters
“My apologies, Mr. President. I don’t know what General McKenzie was thinking, allowing his air assets to penetrate US airspace on a day like this. I will speak with him immediately about this,” Johann said as he tried his best to conceal his contempt for the US president.
In a few more hours, you’ll have lost your reelection and we won’t have to deal with you anymore, he thought.
“If your peacekeepers cross our border again, I will order them to be shot down,” Sachs asserted.
“Yes, Mr. President. Again, I am sincerely sorry about this. I’m sure it was a mistake. I doubt General McKenzie would have allowed his forces to run simulated bombing runs against your bases. It was probably a couple of rogue pilots.”
The conversation lasted another sixty seconds before it finally ended. Once it had, Johann let out a guttural laugh of satisfaction.
Then he hoped that McKenzie had gotten the information he’d needed. Those Russians almost blew it for us, he thought.
Lifting his secured phone, he placed a call to the good general.
McKenzie sounded like he smiled when he picked up the phone. “Ah, Mr. Secretary-General. I hope all is well,” he said jovially. He began to chuckle. “I take it you just got a call from the American president?” McKenzie asked between laughs.
“I did indeed. The pompous little idiot berated me for allowing you to run amok with your training exercise. He said to tell you if you try to run practice bombing runs across his border again, he’ll have your aircraft shot down,” Behr replied, a bit amused at the conversation and not taking Sachs seriously for a minute.
A moment of silence ensued before General McKenzie replied, “I think he may actually do that, sir.”
Behr furrowed his brow. “Why do you say that? He’s about to lose his reelection and his country just suffered yet another terrorist attack. He wouldn’t dare.”
McKenzie let out a sigh that carried through the phone. “That’s exactly why he might shoot down one of our fighters. They were just brutally attacked. I was told the death toll has reached almost a thousand. Their military is trigger-happy right now. Not only that, I was told our access to NORAD and the eastern air-defense system was just cut off. The deputy commander at NORAD is a Canadian general, and he phoned me telling me his entire staff was being escorted out of NORAD and would remain cut off until our UN exercise was concluded.”
Behr recalculated. He hadn’t expected that kind of response, certainly not before the election had concluded. “Does this change any of our plans?” he asked, now a bit concerned.
“No, not yet at least. It might, depending on whether or not Sachs opts to leave peacefully or will need to be given a swift kick in the backside. I don’t recommend we test their airspace again, though. I think we accomplished what we needed to this afternoon, so there’s really no need to test them further.”
Nodding more to himself than for the benefit of McKenzie, Behr agreed. The two of them talked for a bit more before they hung up. They knew there would be a lot to discuss in the coming days, once the American election had concluded.
Chapter 20
Post-Election Meltdown
November 4, 2020
Washington, D.C.
Nebraska Avenue Complex<
br />
Department of Homeland Security
It was 8:22 a.m. by the time DHS Secretary Patricia Hogan had finished reviewing the postelection analysis of the various districts in the swing states that had ultimately decided the election. Her forehead crinkled as she stared at the data with eyes that were bloodshot from lack of sleep. “What am I looking at?” she finally asked. “What’s wrong with this picture?”
Neil Curtis, the chair of the Federal Election Commission, whose team had been up all night and this morning compiling this brief, replied, “We normally don’t go this deep into the voting data, but the party chairs for the states of Florida, North Carolina, Texas, Pennsylvania, and Ohio all sent us some rather disturbing data following the closing of the polls last night. Their concerns were further validated by the RNC’s data and the Sachs campaign data. Based on historical data of past elections, it is very clear that there was a high level of either voter suppression or outright manipulation of votes.”
She lifted her head up a bit. “That’s a big statement to make. How are you guys coming to that conclusion?” she asked.
He bit his lower lip before he answered, “Let me pull up Broward County in Florida for you as an example.”
He turned his laptop toward her so she could see what he was talking about. An image of the county was brought up along with a lot of voter data. “Let me show you this to give you a reference point. In 2012, during the Obama-Romney election, the Democrats won the district with 67.2 percent of the vote while the Republicans received just 32.3 percent. In the 2016 presidential election, the Republicans received 260,951 votes, or 31.2 percent in that county. In the 2018 midterms, that number was 220,012 or approximately 31.3 percent of the vote. While the number was lower, it was still proportional when looked at in comparison to the number of people who voted in the midterms, which is always lower than in a presidential year. You can see from the data. During the last several election cycles, Republicans only went down one percent in their share of the vote.