“Captain Ashley, “said Buster, “you make a damn good point. If we can’t pull off any other plan, we will be left with the only option to detect, grab, and neutralize. Just remember, we’re dealing with nuclear weapons. The less violent the plan the better.”
“So Buster,” I said, “what do you think? Ashley’s plan looks like the only possible last minute scenario. What happens between now and then?”
“Surveillance,” said Buster, “the tightest and fastest surveillance this country’s ever pulled off. We need drones and satellites tracking the Atomic Five every time they’re outdoors. We need phone taps. We need GPS plants on their vehicles and their persons. If one hops a cab, the cab gets a GPS tracker. We need to track every waking moment in the lives of these killers. I’m betting that as the time gets closer, their planning activities will pick up the pace. What worries me is that the time for these guys to move around between the ships and the bomb locations may have passed. They may be at an advanced stage of their mission which calls for them to stay put.”
Chapter 41
Sheik Abbas Haddad sat in the back of a Toyota Land Cruiser driven by his assistant Amjad Boulos. The October sun was setting, casting a sad golden glow across the buildings of Detroit as the car drove through the once prosperous streets. Haddad loved the setting sun and its way of making even ugly things beautiful.
Haddad has been a high official in al-Qaeda for two years, although his status has been hidden from the public, especially the Western press. He was picked for the job because of his intelligence, courage, and fanatical devotion to the outer reaches of jihad. His superiors know that Haddad wants the West do die, and that he wants to be the one to kill it.
The car pulled into the parking lot of an abandoned Chrysler factory. According to the procedures he devised, Haddad rode in a different car on each visit. Also, according to his plans, he was driven to a back entrance that couldn’t be seen from the street.
The car’s approach was seen from inside the building, as was the approach of any vehicle. As Haddad approached the door it opened. A man with an AK-47 slung over his shoulder bowed.
“Peace be upon you, Sheik Haddad,” the man with the gun said.
The room was cavernous, about the size of a football field. In the center was a structure 100 feet by 200 feet made of standard sheet rock walls. Haddad walked through the door of the structure and the six men present bowed.
“I wish to speak to Ali Hakimi alone,” Haddad said. The five others left the room.
“I have an important question to ask you, Ali,” Haddad said. “Have you seen or heard from Sheik Ayham Abboud?”
“No, my Sheik. I haven’t seen him in weeks. I was about to ask you the same question.”
“As you know, Ali, Sheik Abboud is critical to our operation. He is the man who converted our Navy brothers 20 years ago, and introduced them to their sacred mission. I fear for his safety. If you hear from him or from anyone who knows his whereabouts let me know immediately.”
“Tell me my brother Ali,” said Haddad, changing the subject, “are we ready to bring the fires of hell to the infidels?”
“We will be ready to strike in two weeks, my Sheik,” said Haddad.
The two men walked over to a long table. Five suitcases were set on top of the table, each measuring 8 in. by 16 in. by 24 in. Every suitcase weighed just over 50 pounds. Inside each was the mechanism of a one kiloton nuclear bomb. The weapons had been purchased for $5 Million American dollars from a Vladimir Trushenko, a Russian bomb expert in charge of security for the weapons. After the transaction had been completed, Trushenko was murdered and the money reclaimed.
“They will be delivered by our brothers, the weapons officers,” said Haddad. “Because they each have Top Secret security clearances, we don’t anticipate a problem with the deliveries.”
“And what about the arming procedure, Ali?” asked Haddad.
“Each of the men has been trained and retrained on arming the devices. They’re scheduled to return here twice before the delivery date to make sure everything is coordinated perfectly. The bombs will be armed the morning of the detonations. As you ordered, each of the five bombs will detonate exactly one minute after the one before it, beginning at 3 PM Eastern Time. If I may be so bold, sir, your idea of spacing the explosions is brilliant. It will totally confuse the infidels’ news networks. They will gather information on one explosion and then be confronted with the following one. They won’t know that we have set five weapons, so the American government will be like a pack of insane jackals trying to anticipate what will happen next.”
“And the date of delivery?” asked Haddad.
“They will be delivered on November 25, the day before the infidel Thanksgiving, the day before we change their world.”
“May Allah bless you for your work, Ali.”
Chapter 42
“Captain,” said Buster, “you have a lot of influence and we’re going to need every bit of it. Nobody’s going to believe a spook from the future like me. As a CIA agent, I can get surveillance orders, but as soon as we have a few shreds of evidence, we’ll need to go upstairs for authority to make arrests. I suggest that you contact the Chief of Naval Intelligence. For now, just tell him that you have credible evidence that there may be plots against some of our ships. You should take Jack with you. The both of you have a lot of credibility. If we can get enough evidence from surveillance of the Atomic Five, you won’t even have to discuss time travel with the CNI, just enough for him to detain them.”
“When will the drones and satellites start looking?” asked Janice.
“They’ve started already. They don’t call me Buster for nothing.”
Chapter 43
Lieutenant Commander George Quentin, (Jazeer Mohammed) Weapons Officer USS Harry S. Truman, walked down the gangplank to a waiting cab which would take him to the airport. He was on four days’ leave, enough time for him to take care of business in Detroit. The Truman was docked in San Diego.
An overhead helicopter drone tracked him to the airport where one of Buster’s operatives took note of his flight and destination. The operative then contacted Buster who alerted his man in Detroit. When the plane landed, another drone picked up Quentin’s trail, following the cab from the airport to the old Chrysler plant. It circled overhead taking photos of Quentin as he entered the building and relaying the photos to CIA headquarters where Buster had a top secret team at work. His operative called Buster to tell him about Quentin.
“Fucking bullseye,” said Buster. “Well, maybe it’s a bullseye. It’s possible Quentin may just like to enjoy vacation time at an abandoned factory in Detroit.”
The drone also tracked Quentin’s movements from Detroit back to the USS Truman in San Diego.
One of Buster’s operatives called him from Mayport, Florida where the USS Theodore Roosevelt was docked. He told Buster that the drone had just picked up Lieutenant Commander Frederick Peyton (Lashkar Islamiyah).
“I’m guessing he’s going to spend some leave time in beautiful downtown Detroit,” said Buster. “Keep me posted.”
Chapter 44
My name is Joseph Monahan. I’m 39 years old and a lieutenant commander in the United States Navy. My current assignment is weapons officer on the USS Abraham Lincoln, a job I’ve planned on landing for a long time.
Ever since I was 18 years old, my life has had one mission, to strike at the heart of the heathen culture known as America. I was a high school senior when I took a trip to Riyadh, Saudi Arabia, sponsored by The Center for Open-Minded Youth. There I met four other high school students from the States. Together we began a journey that will soon end in destruction.
I converted to Islam by the fourth week of my stay in Saudi Arabia, as did my friends. We learned the joy of the true religion, the thrill of serving Allah, and the beauty of reading the Quran. Our spiritual leader was a young man named Ayham Abboud, who is still our leader to this day. Beside the wonders of Islam, Sheik Abboud taug
ht us the importance of discipline and the need for secrecy. I never told my parents of my conversion, an event that occurred over 20 years ago. I went through the motions of a typical young American. They were proud when I was accepted to the Naval Reserve Officer Training Corps at the University of Michigan.
My other self appears to be a proud, diligent, and patriotic naval officer for all these years. But that’s my other self, the self named Joseph Monahan. My true self, the person who I really am is Abu Hussein, a fighter in the cause of justice. That’s what I’ve been told repeatedly over the past 20 years. Yes, I’m a jihadi, a terrorist.
I married a beautiful woman, Janice, and she is as ignorant of my Muslim self as are my parents. We’ve become distant recently, almost estranged. Over the years I’ve criticized her for the clothing she wears in public, the music she listens to, and the TV shows she watches. I think my regular carping has driven her away from me emotionally. I’m not sure I can blame her.
I miss Janice, the old Janice, the brilliant fun-loving beauty who I married, the woman who I drove away.
But none of that matters. In a few weeks my brothers and I will become the fist of Allah, and the infidels will cringe as we change their world. I will soon detonate a bomb that will kill the entire crew of the USS Abraham Lincoln, along with some civilians. Along with my fellow officers we will slaughter about 26,000 people all together. But that’s okay because we call them heathens, barbarians, infidels. Yes, that’s what we call them, and how we will think of them when we kill them.
But if they’re barbarians, what am I?
My mission is supposed to bring me joy, joy in the glory to come. I’m supposed to feel happy about setting a timer and killing thousands of people, husbands and wives, sisters and brothers. Many of them are friends of mine, friends of a man they thought they could trust, friends of a guy who’s about to end their lives. I wonder how many orphans I’ll make in a moment’s time.
I don’t feel joy, I feel confusion. I feel doubt.
Chapter 45
Over the next five days the drones and satellites tracked each of the other officers of the Atomic Five going to the same building in Detroit.
Buster had a team member at Langley research everything about the old Chrysler plant. It had been purchased in 2013 for $3 Million in cash by a company in Yemen. With over 60,000 square feet of floor space, the building could be used for any number of purposes. Large cargo doors are located on each of the four sides. The roof is flat, supported by steel girders for protection against heavy Michigan snowstorms. The entire lot surrounding the building is illuminated by floodlights. Security cameras are mounted every 100 feet, and a 50-foot perimeter surrounds the building, serving the function of a moat around a Medieval castle. No one can approach the structure without being detected.
Philip Oliver, one of the team members assigned to study the building, looked at satellite images of the roof. He also studied the original construction plans for the structure which were obtained from the engineering firm that designed it. The ventilation pipes from the original construction were still in place. Inside the building the vent pipes have openings about 20 feet off the floor. Oliver was trying to find a way to insert a camera into one or more of the vent pipes. He came up with a solution: a robot placed on the roof by a drone.
Oliver had found a way into the building.
Chapter 46
“Peace be with you, Commander Monahan,” said Abbas Haddad, “although I prefer to call you Abu Hussein. Please have a seat.”
Monahan sat on a straight back chair in the corner of Haddad's spare apartment in downtown Detroit. Haddad's wife, wearing a full burqa, served tea.
“I was expecting to meet with Ayham Abboud, sir,” said Monahan. “I haven’t seen him in a long while. My brother officers and I hold Sheik Abboud in the highest regard. He is the man who set us on the path to righteousness so many years ago.”
“I have no idea of the whereabouts of Sheik Abboud,” said Haddad. “He has been a critical part of our planning for this glorious mission. Nobody has heard from him in weeks. But we can proceed without him, as we must. I am now blessed with the leadership of this operation. As you well know, Abu, of all of our brother naval officers, your role is the most crucial. You have knowledge of details that the others don’t. After this plan is carried out, you will be known as Sheik Abu Hussein, the former Joseph Monahan.”
“You and your brother naval officers from the other ships will soon rewrite the history of Islam,” said Haddad. Your courage and religious devotion will help us to bring forth a new caliphate in this heathen land. The world will soon know that the holy march of Islam cannot be stopped. While the American pigs are stuffing their mouths with food, we will give them a new meaning of Thanksgiving Day. When the sun sets on that day, a new world shall have begun, a world that knows the wrath of Allah. Let us now discuss the steps that will be taken.”
“Our plans are in order Sheik Haddad,” said Monahan, “I have just come from our factory two miles from here. Our brothers have performed their bomb preparation tasks brilliantly. I see nothing that can interfere with the plan. As you say, the history of Islam will soon change.”
“What about your wife, I believe Janice is her name. She suspects nothing?”
“Nothing at all, Sheik Haddad. I have kept my routine the same, except for the trips to Detroit. I told her that I was going to San Diego for a series of special training assignments.”
“As for the details of the plan,” said Haddad, “the weapons will be transported by vans on the afternoon of November 25, the day before Thanksgiving. Each of you will be alerted when the van approaches your ship. You will meet the van at the gate and carry the suitcase aboard. Once you have the weapon aboard and inserted into the air conditioner, you will set the timer to exactly 3 PM. Your brothers will set their timers in one-minute intervals after that. Just before the ship sails, you will fake the illness you have trained for and you will be taken ashore. I know that you do not fear to die for Islam, but we need your talents for the future. Your brother officers will each have a different way of missing their ship’s sailing time. You will all be taken to different Muslim countries when the time is right.”
“What is it Abu?” said Haddad. “You seem troubled, distracted, almost sad. Are you feeling alright?”
“It’s nothing, my sheik,” Monahan said. “The pressure of these past few weeks is intense.”
Chapter 47
Buster, as usual, had a good idea. Rather than meet at our apartment, we needed a more secure location. The team gathered at a non-descript block building on the Navy base that serves from time to time as a technical school. The facility has four rooms, including two bathrooms, a kitchen, and a large classroom where we’ll meet. The entrance is guarded by two armed Marines.
Besides the usual Thanksgiving Gang consisting of me, Buster, Janice, Bennie, Wally, and now Ashley, Vice Admiral Jerome Bettenhurst, the commander of Naval Intelligence, was with us. Admiral Bettenhurst was sent directly by the Chief of Naval Operations. Buster introduced us all to Bettenhurst. After a short introductory chat I was amazed how much Bettenhurst was up to speed on the entire operation. He was even ahead of us.
“I have some great news,” Bettenhurst said. “We had a drone helicopter place a small camera- equipped robot on the roof of the Detroit factory. The robot travelled down a vent pipe and found an opening to take pictures. Here are the photos.”
On the screen in front of us was the inside of the bomb factory itself, including a clear shot of a long table with five open suitcases, one of which was tilted on its side.
“I showed this picture to an expert at the CIA,” said Bettenhurst. “He knows everything about suitcase nukes. He said that the device in the picture is definitely a nuclear weapon. He showed us in detail why he knew it was a bomb, showing us the wiring, the detonator and the timing device. I’ll let my favorite spook Buster here bring us all up to the minute on where we are.”
“
Correct me if I’m wrong, Admiral,” said Buster, “But I think we have enough for a raid and arrests. Am I on target?”
“You are, indeed, Buster. I had a group from the Justice Department look over my shoulder on this. They weren’t let in on all the details, just the legal necessities. Right now we can arrest the people that you folks have referred to as the Atomic Five. We can also raid the Detroit building and confiscate the bombs. That second part won’t be easy, so it will be a Navy SEAL operation. We don’t want to blow up what’s left of Detroit.”
“Today is October 10th,” said Ashley. “When will this happen?”
“Five days from now,” said Bettenhurst. “The SEALs need time to prepare. We’ll keep satellite and drone surveillance on the building to make sure the bombs aren’t moved. The entire combined operation has been assigned the code Tango Delta, short for Thanksgiving Day.”
“Who’s going to arrest the Atomic Five?” asked Bennie.
“That will be handled by SEALs. I was going to assign the task to agents from Naval Intelligence, but it could get rough, and SEALs are good at rough.”
“So I don’t get to shoot my scumbag husband,” Janice observed.
We all cracked up. Janice has a unique way of relieving tension.
But I’m getting nervous. At first this was a small operation with only a few people on board. Now it seems like half of Washington knows a piece of the puzzle.
Box Set - The Time Magnet Series Page 38