“It did—before your fighter jocks sank it, killed my men, and put me out of business!” White retorted. “Listen, General, Your Honor, sure, I was at all those places, but I run a salvage-and-rescue company—we’re supposed to go where the fur is flying, if you know what I mean. Sure, I used my buddies in the Air Force to find out where something was going to go down. We always sit near where something might happen because we make our money by recovering items of value. Yes, we have a large helicopter pad and a small hangar facility, but that’s because a helicopter gives us added speed and reach—we are a rescue company also, as well as salvage. Lots of private companies and contractors have used our facilities, but I’ve never had any spies on board! That’s crazy, General.”
“Then perhaps you can tell us,” Buzhazi said, accepting a large black-and-white photograph from his aide, “why a salvage ship would be using an SPS-69 air search radar?”
“A what? Excuse me, General, but I don’t know what that—” “An SPS-69 radar, capable of searching for aircraft out to ranges in excess of one hundred fifty kilometers,” Buzhazi explained. “A rather sophisticated piece of equipment for a salvage vessel. Our naval forces found such a device just a few hundred meters from your ship. Here is a photograph of the antenna after it was recovered from the bottom of the Strait of Hormuz.”
“Oh, you mean that old piece of. . . er, that old thing?” White responded innocendy, trying to smile through the pain in his legs and back. “We recovered that off the coast of Florida near the U.S. Navy’s junk area. We use it for publicity photos for the company—it makes our ship look real high-tech. I honestly have no idea what that thing did. If you say it’s an air search antenna, General, I believe you, but we certainly don’t go around tracking aircraft. Why would we?”
“We have also found significant amounts of debris on the bottom, mostly electronic devices—they appear to have been destroyed by small explosive charges planted inside them, as if someone did not want them identified,” Buzhazi went on. “We are retrieving them as quickly as possible, and we will make identification shortly. The commander of the Khomeini carrier group also reported encoded satellite transmissions from your ship, which he believed were used to send signals to a stealth reconnaissance aircraft that overflew the battle group.”
“I swear, Your Honor, I don’t know what he’s talking about!” White pleaded. “We use satellites for navigation and communications, sure, but we don’t use it to steer stealth reconnaissance planes—I don’t even know what that is.”
“You are a spy, Colonel White,” Buzhazi shouted, “employed by the American Central Intelligence Agency and working in concert with Ali Akbar Nateq-Nouri to undermine our country’s defensive military forces and make us vulnerable to the despotic, imperialistic West.”
“A spy! CIA! Me, working with your President? That’s insane!” White retorted in shock and surprise—it was the best acting job he had ever done, because he was fighting for his life. He turned to Nateq-Nouri and said, “Tell them, Mr. President. Tell them I’m not working for you.” He affixed Nateq-Nouri with a determined, warning stare and, carefully emphasizing his words, said, “Tell them I don’t know a damned thing about the CIA or spying or anything but fixing radios and running a salvage ship.”
“General Buzhazi is lying, Mr. White,” Nateq-Nouri said in Farsi, understanding White’s English well enough without having to wait for the translation. “He is trying to cover up his failures by accusing me and anyone else he can of conspiracy. You may indeed be a spy, and I would suspect as much, but we are not working together, and I never would.”
Buzhazi turned to the Ayatollah Kalantari. “Your Holiness, I ask that the prisoner be held in maximum security until more evidence of his espionage activities can be collected. I anticipate this will take at least four to six more weeks. No one in the United States has complained yet about Colonel White’s absence, lending even more credibility to his role as a spy.”
“Your request is granted,” the Ayatollah Kalantari replied. “We find more than sufficient evidence to hold this man to stand trial for espionage and for attacking and destroying Iranian government property on the high seas. Take the prisoner away.”
Guards grabbed White and pulled him toward the door. “Hey, General, Your Honor, can’t I call my family? Can’t you treat my injuries? Why are you treating me like an animal? I don’t know anything about Stinger missiles or radars or spies or anything! I’m innocent, I swear to God and on my mother’s eyes, I’m innocent!”
“Do not use the name of God to cover your lies! ” the Ayatollah Kalantari shouted. “Blasphemer! Tool of the devil! Take his filthy carcass away!”
White ignored Kalantari and Buzhazi, looked directly at President Nateq-Nouri and said in passable Farsi, as if no one else were in the room, “Mr. President, think of the future. Your chief of staff is betraying you. You need help. Help me, and I will help you.”
“You see! You see! ” Buzhazi exclaimed. “The prisoner knows our language, and he attempts to communicate with his co-conspirator! That proves Nateq-Nouri’s guilt! ”
“I demand to notify the American authorities of my capture!” White shouted in Farsi. “I demand justice! What kind of government is this?” But they all ignored him as he was dragged out of the council chamber.
When all was quiet again, Kalantari addressed Buzhazi: “This is remarkable testimony, General, and will be given full weight in regard to the United States’ treacherous activities.” He cleared his throat. “However, although highly inflammatory and serious, nothing we have heard proves President Nateq-Nouri’s complicity in any conspiracy against the military. If you have any evidence, now is the time to present it or accept the consequences. Do you have any such evidence?”
“I do, Your Holiness,” Buzhazi replied. Time for the final toss of the dice. His aide passed him a folder. “A transcript of a phone conversation between the senior assistant minister of defense, Minister Foruzandeh’s chief deputy, and a Turkish civilian named Dr. Tahir Sahin. Sahin had apparently just met with the American President’s National Security Advisor and the American Secretary of State and warned Foruzandeh of an imminent attack on the Khomeini battle group by unnamed American military forces. The attack began minutes after this phone conversation; Minister Foruzandeh met with President Nateq-Nouri and Foreign Minister Dr. Velayati about a half hour later. Yet no one in the Minister of Defense’s office, the Foreign Ministry, or the President’s office bothered to contact me or warn anyone of the impending attack, even though Minister Vela- yati’s office did make several calls to the United States and to the unbeliever Muhammad ibn Rashid of the United Arab Emirates.”
“Again, General Buzhazi is dramatizing routine diplomatic contacts,” President Nateq-Nouri interjected. “Yes, I directed Dr. Velayati to contact the UAE foreign office, but only to advise them that military aircraft would be departing Bandar Abbas on emergency air patrols over our own airspace—it is a routine courtesy call, nothing more, designed to prevent any danger of appearing as if we are attacking them.”
“A ‘routine courtesy call,’ put through directly to the tool of Satan, the Emir of Dubai himself? It sounds like more than a simple ‘courtesy call,’ Mr. President. Yet you did not think it necessary to notify me or your field commanders of information of an impending attack on the aircraft carrier batde group or on Chah Bahar Naval Base—an attack that was conducted by an attack aircraft owned by the Emir of Dubai himself, flown by UAE commandos in the employ of the Emir of Dubai? It sounds as if you cleared this attack plane to attack yourself, Mr. President! The conspiracy is clear, Your Holiness!”
“The attack was already in progress by the time we were in contact with Dr. Sahin, a loyal and trustworthy servant of Allah and of this government—there was nothing we could do except prepare for the possibility of hostilities breaking out all across the region, if this was part of a larger attack against us.” Nateq-Nouri turned angrily at Buzhazi. “None of this would have happened, B
uzhazi, if you had not sunk that American vessel in the first place! ”
“I was trying to protect our military forces from another sneak attack by the Gulf Cooperative Council states and their overlord, the United States,” Buzhazi shot back. “Because of your order, I was prevented from employing my ground forces adequately to stop any further attacks, and the result is what you have seen.” He turned to Kalantari. “Your Holiness, we have suffered great damage, and it is because of this man. I demand that he resign his office and turn control of the government over to the Leadership Council until the crisis has subsided and new parliamentary elections can be held. If he will not step down voluntarily, I ask that the Leadership Council strip him of his office and conduct an investigation of his criminal activities. To allow him to continue his evil activities for even one more day may harm the Islamic Republic for decades yet to come! I demand—”
“Silence, General,” the Ayatollah Kalantari interjected. The President and the general glared at each other, Buzhazi with a satisfied grin, Nateq-Nouri with a confused and overwhelmed expression. “General Buzhazi, you have not yet proven your case before us, but the charges are serious and the evidence against the President, although circumstantial, is compelling.” He turned to Nateq-Nouri and said in a low voice, “Speak Mr. President. What will you do?”
Nateq-Nouri was thunderstruck. Buzhazi was going to win either way, and there seemed nothing he could do to prevent it. It was time to save his own skin, so there would be a skin to save later on when Buzhazis plans failed and Iran’s military forces were crushed. “Your Holiness, the Leadership Council and the Council of Guardians has the power at any time to assume administrative leadership of the Islamic Republic,” Nateq-Nouri said. “I serve at the pleasure of Allah, His Holiness the Faqih, and the chosen of the Leadership Council. I swear to you that I am no traitor, and that I have not conspired with anyone against the Islamic Republic. But if you wish me to step down, I will agree.” The Cabinet officers surrounding Nateq-Nouri couldn’t believe their ears. It was obvious that General Buzhazi, disgraced in the eyes of everyone in government, had been shooting in the dark with his accusations and wild stories—but no one had expected Nateq-Nouri to bend to his threats and accusations! Was there really something to all of Buzhazi’s charges?
“I promise that if you have need of my services in the future, when General Buzhazi’s lies are uncovered and all is in turmoil, you may call upon me, and I will serve the Republic once again,” Nateq-Nouri went on. “I ask that I be provided with a security detail of my own choosing, because I fear I am not safe from the Pasdaran troops and Capital Guards commanded by General Buzhazi.”
“Your request is granted,” the Ayatollah Kalantari said. “Until a tribunal is convened to hear the general’s charges against you, you shall enjoy all the rank and privileges of the President of the Republic, and you may form whatever personal guard you desire.”
The Ayatollah Kalantari turned to the members of the Supreme Defense Council and said in a loud voice, “It is hereby ordered that His Holiness the Faqih, the Leader of the Islamic Revolution, Ayatollah Ali Hoseini Khamenei, assumes leadership of the government of the Islamic Republic of Iran this day and assumes the role of commander in chief of the armed forces of the Republic. President Nateq-Nouri, his family, and his associates are not to be harmed in any way by any man, upon pain of punishment of the Leadership Council.”
Well, Nateq-Nouri thought, it was not a total victory for Buzhazi. Under Khamenei, the government would lean further to the right, but it would not move any faster and would probably crawl to all but a complete stop. Buzhazi still didn’t have his total. . .
“It is also hereby ordered,” the Ayatollah Kalantari continued, “that because of the nature of the military emergency that exists with the wanton attack upon the military forces of the Republic, that a state of national emergency exists in Iran, and that it is necessary to establish martial law within the Republic. It is hereby ordered that General Hesarak al-Kan Buzhazi shall retain his full rank and privileges and should now have full authority over all government offices and services to do so as he shall see fit to protect the government of the Islamic Republic of Iran and the lives of all the true believers. It is the will of Allah and the command of His Holiness the Faqih, so let it be done. General Buzhazi, the Council is at your command.”
“No!” Nateq-Nouri shouted, jumping to his feet. “This cannot be! Iran is not under a state of emergency—it is an emergency created by Buzhazi for his own aims!” But the Imams representing the Leadership Council were heading for the door, eyes averted, refusing to speak. It was Khamenei, Nateq-Nouri decided. The Faqih had decided that now was a good time to flex some Iranian military muscle. The only way to bypass the constitution and advance those plans was to put Buzhazi in charge, and that meant martial law.
Buzhazi got to his feet, amused eyes on Nateq-Nouri. “Guards, escort Their Holinesses out of the chamber,” Buzhazi shouted. At that moment, several dozen armed Pasdaran soldiers rushed into the Cabinet chamber, heavily armed, with assault rifles at port arms. A dozen Pasdaran guards surrounded the two high priests as they departed the chamber. As soon as they departed, the chamber erupted into complete bedlam. “Silence!” Buzhazi shouted. “Come to order immediately, or I will see to it that you are all removed! ”
Several Pasdaran guards rushed over toward Nateq-Nouri, and were immediately blocked by a small contingent of Nateq-Nouris personal bodyguards, seven ex-Syrian special forces soldiers. Although outnumbered three to one, it was obvious they would protect their charge to the last man. “Hold!” Buzhazi ordered. “His Holiness the Ayatollah Kalantari has ordered that the former President not be harmed or detained in any way. The former President shall be escorted safely out of the chamber and immediately to his residence, where he shall be placed under protective guard. Colonel, see to it immediately.”
Nateq-Nouri was surrounded by his own personal guard, then by Pasdaran troops, and then by his advisors and Supreme Defense Council ministers sympathetic to him, but he raised his voice enough to be heard above the throng around him: “General Buzhazi, your days on earth are numbered, and I shall be there to see your last day, just before the firing squad’s bullets riddle your worthless body.”
“Brave words from a traitor,” Buzhazi shouted back. “All but Nateq-Nouri must stay. I have a few more matters to discuss.”
“I swear to Allah, I shall see to it that you are hanged by your own words,” Nateq-Nouri said, as he let himself be led out of the chamber.
As the room cleared and grew ever quieter, several shocked and incredulous eyes turned toward General Buzhazi. “You must be mad, Buzhazi, utterly mad,” Muhammad Foruzandeh, the Iranian Defense Minister, finally said acidly. “You know all that the President has said is true—he is not a traitor, and the back-channel communications he has had are perfectly legal and aboveboard—you have used them many times yourself in the past.”
The Prime Minister, Hasan Ebrihim Habibi, spluttered, “You dare attempt a military coup against the legitimate government?”
“Silence, all of you,” Buzhazi said. “This is no coup, gentlemen—this is an order from the Leadership Council that the Islamic Republic is in grave danger and is in need of help right away. Nateq- Nouri is weak and has chosen the way of cooperation and free exchange with the very agents of imperialism and oppression that seek to destroy us. I on the other hand refuse to sit by and watch my country suffer.
“Effective immediately, by the power invested in me as military leader of the Islamic Republic, I hereby suspend and disband the Majlis-i-Shura, the Supreme Court, and the High Judicial Council, until further notice.”
“What?” several of the civilians shouted. In one sweep, Buzhazi had just dismantled Iran’s civil representative government—the 270-member Islamic Consultative Assembly, the Supreme Court, and the entire federal judiciary branch of the government. This left only the three major religious organs—the Leadership Council, led by Leader
of the Islamic Revolution, Khamenei; the Council of Experts, led by the Ayatollah Meshkini; and the Council of Guardians, led by the Ayatollah Yazdi—along with the military, to rule the Iranian government. All of these mullahs were very pro-military and extremely fundamentalist, dedicated to exporting the Islamic revolution—led by them and the Shi’ite Muslim sect, of course—all over the world. Now, under martial law, they had the military backing them up. “Buzhazi, you do not have such authority!”
“Under martial law, crimes against the government will be punishable by military courts, and reviewed by the Council of Guardians and the Council of Experts,” Buzhazi said. “The Cabinet and the Supreme Defense Council are also hereby disbanded; the Cabinet ministers retain their positions and authority, but now report to me through my General Staff officers. The newspapers Kay ban, Ettela’at, Tehran Times, and all other public or political organs will immediately suspend publication; only ]um-hurie-lslami will be allowed to continue operations, under command of the Office of Public Affairs of the General Staff. All broadcasting, except for Radio Naft-e-Melli, will immediately suspend all operations; INTELSAT earth station operations and radio relay station operations, except for military-only base operations, will be suspended immediately until military control can be concluded. ...”
“There will be panic in the streets of Tehran, General,” Prime Minister Habibi said angrily. “You cannot simply shut off all media sources and expect to control a population of seventy million.”
“I shall deploy the entire Niru-ye Entezami-e Johuriye Eslami-ye Iran, reinforced and led by the Pasdaran, to maintain order in the cities,” Buzhazi said sternly. “The Security Forces of the Islamic Republic have a duty to maintain order and uphold the law. I will mobilize the Basij and federalize them under active-duty control of the Pasdaran to reinforce the internal security forces and border guards.
Brown, Dale - Patrick McLanahan 05 Page 28