INTELLIGENCE FAILURE

by Jon Sedran

  In two-thousand four the head of Khatam al-Anbia the engineering arm of the Republican Guards, was brought to Tehran for a meeting with the Guardian Council. Bardia Amirpour was sworn to secrecy and asked to take on a most important project. He was told that successful completion of the project was vital ensure the Islamic Republic’s very survival. Amirpour was to direct the building of a subterranean complex. Its exact use would not be revealed to him until the project neared completion. He enthusiastically agreed to accept the assignment. A week later at another meeting he was presented with some artist sketches and preliminary engineering drawings. He now had little doubt what the complex was likely to be used for. He was assigned a team and was given ample funding and three years to complete it.

  Amirpour immediately set about finding a suitable site. After several weeks of surveying potential locations, his team came upon the site of the old mine. He knew the facility would have to be built without attracting attention and be kept hidden from the prying eyes of orbiting satellites. A front company was created for the construction project and workers told the excavation was for nuclear waste storage. Boring tunnels and chambers into the mountainside would leave large piles of debris and these would have to be discretely removed or they could be revealed by high-resolution satellite imagery. A nearby road construction project would serve this purpose. The debris would be hauled away and crushed for fill. Republican Guardsmen wearing construction company uniforms would provide security for the site.

  A large metal building was erected over an old excavation pit several hundred feet west of the base of the mountain. Using the building for cover, a horizontal shaft was bored into the side of the mountain. For three years, hidden from American reconnaissance satellites, this dusty rock outcropping went unnoticed. Workers dug and blasted seven days a week carving out tunnels and chambers in the rock. Large earth moving equipment was operated at the location only on days where there was cloud cover, or under cover of darkness. Only small amounts of rock and debris were removed each day for crushing so as not to attract attention from prying eyes above, or even from local farmers.

  The major tunneling and excavation was followed by concrete spraying and forming to create the interior walls, floors and ceilings. Access into the underground facility was via a concrete ramp constructed beneath the metal building. Two large blast doors were installed at the tunnel entrance. Constructed nearly a half-mile inside the mountain the subterranean layout included three hemispherical shaped chambers each measuring one-hundred twenty feet across and twenty feet high at their apex. The facility would be impervious to the largest bunker-buster bombs. The chambers were laid out in a triangular arrangement, connected by two-hundred foot long tunnels. Two chambers were fitted with pre-fabricated walls to create offices, labs, and machine shops. Sleeping quarters, exercise equipment, and showers were provided in the third chamber. The concealed tunnel access and the adjoining buildings would prevent satellites from seeing personnel coming and going. Power cables were run underground and then through metal conduits attached to the tunnel walls. To prevent tell-tale signs such as air-handling equipment, from being seen from above, fresh air was pumped into the subterranean chambers through underground ductwork originating in a nearby building and stale air removed the same way. Water was pumped in through underground pipes. The site was well-equipped with networked computers and communications systems. Numerous security cameras would be operated around the clock by a special detail of the Republican Guard force

  The site was completed on schedule. Then the machinery and vast array of testing equipment used to fabricate the special materials needed for the operation was delivered in unmarked crates and set up. Forty technicians began work on the special project almost immediately. They had been carefully selected for their technical knowledge as well as their loyalty and dedication to the Islamic Revolution. The brilliant and trustworthy nuclear scientist Dr. Benuit, was placed in charge of the device fabrication. The work would be compartmentalized and information shared on a “need-to-know” basis. The site’s official designation would be ‘Oghab-Three’, but it would not appear on any map.

  “Good morning Dr. Benuit, I trust we are nearly back on schedule?” said the voice.

  Benuit slid his arms out from the glove box and glanced over his shoulder to see who had just interrupted him. “General Namazi, good to see you,” he said. The Republican Guard force’s commanding general was in charge of security for what they jokingly referred to as Iran’s peaceful nuclear program.

  Benuit reached up and turned off the glove box filtration system fan and the room became quiet. “We have been at this project for over eight years general, and I still lack enough equipment,” he reported, frowning. “I have prepared another list…it is right over there,” he said, pointing to a sheet of paper on a nearby desk.

  Namazi walked over, picked up the list and began to read aloud. “One high-temperature furnace, two CNC five-axis turning, milling, and grinding machines capable of tolerances of parts measured in the range of one nm, two electrical discharge machines (EDM). One each, spin, flow, and shear forming machines, one filament-winding machine, a hot isostatic press, one vibration/shaker system; and one scanning electron microscope.” He put the list in his pocket. “These sound very expensive. And you know of course, most of these things are restricted from export to us or carefully controlled,” said Namazi.

  “Do you want a damn device, or not, general?” replied an irritated Benuit

  “I will see what I can do,” Namazi replied, looking away and clearly put on the defensive.

  Benuit briefly glanced up at the argon gas pressure gauge. “Our progress has been interrupted again by delayed deliveries of plutonium from the Arak reactor. I was hoping they would become steadier now that the U.N. inspectors are satisfied and have left.”

  The general nodded and laughed. “Yes, the IAEA found nothing…you are a genius.” He walked up to the glove box and looked through the thick leaded glass. A very shiny metallic one-half ellipsoid shaped object about six centimeters across sat on a small metal platform.

  “What is that?” Namazi inquired.

  “It is plutonium, or more precisely plutonium two-thirty nine.”

  The general turned and looked at him. “Do we have enough yet for three devices?”

  Benuit rolled his eyes. “No, not yet general…not even for one device. But hopefully soon, I have told the manager at Arak again to increase production.”

  “I am sure they will,” Namazi replied confidently. “After all, the inspectors found only our peaceful nuclear energy operation.”

  “I was worried,” said Benuit.

  “No need to be,” replied Namazi. Both were aware that three floors below Arak’s main control room Benuit had had another control room built. It looked like one above it, but its function was completely different. Additionally, the reactor’s design had been altered to allow for online refueling of an array of concealed fuel rods manipulated from the covert control room. Unseen robotic machines now added uranium fuel to the reactor while in operation. The new rods were pressed in one side and the spent fuel rods pushed out the other. The ingenious design allowed for not having to shut down the reactor to exchange the rods, a procedure which would tip off the inspectors.

  Benuit nodded. “Allah is great,” he said, half-heartedly.

  Namazi wagged his finger at him. “But the Zionists will keep trying to discover what we are doing, so time is of the essence professor.”

  “Our machinists have gotten much better since returning from training in the Korean People’s Republic,” Benuit responded, adding, “They have reached the needed level of precision.”

  “We are proud of your efforts doctor,” said Namazi, smiling slightly. “Ironic isn’t it?”

  “What is, general?” asked Benuit, leaning back against a metal table and putting his hand on his chin.

  “It was the Zionists and their French-built reactor that taught us how to reconfigure, an
d also to disguise the Arak heavy water reactor’s true purpose.”

  Benuit looked away. “I see, yes very ironic.”

  Namazi went over and looked at one of the large presses sitting idle. “I understand the last six-hundred centrifuges at Fordow are now running at full speed and the rest of the P-1 units have been upgraded as well. Islam has many friends who share our desire to rid the world of the Zionists and their American sponsors.” He walked up to Benuit, “Trust me professor, Allah willing, we will finally rid Islam of its greatest menace.”

  “Yes, good,” replied Benuit, looking thoroughly bored with the never-ending Zionist menace talk.

  “I have heard our friends in Korea may test again soon and they have invited us to send an engineer there to observe and collect more data,” said Namazi.

  Benuit nodded. “Yes. The test results our Korean associates have provided us have made testing here mostly unnecessary.”

  “The Zionists believe their Stuxnet cyber-attack set our enrichment program back three years, but we will surprise everyone soon,” declared a defiant Namazi.

  “I must go a meeting now general…if you will excuse me,” said Benuit, as he walked off and headed down an underground corridor.

  * * * *

  Arms dealers from around the world long ago established an enduring presence in Islamabad, Pakistan. Multi-million dollar arms deals are routinely conducted there. It is up to the ISI - Pakistan’s Interservices Intelligence Agency, to ensure that all laws governing what can and cannot not be sold and to whom, are followed. The list of items prohibited from export to certain countries is lengthy and foreign agents are always looking for creative ways to get around export controls.

  Section Chief Asid Hurami was a man who believed in following the rules. He was giving his weekly briefing to the agency’s Director General Javad Singh. “Director General, we are seeing more activity and more arms purchases by the Iranians here in Islamabad,” he reported.

  “Sit down,” instructed Singh, taking a draw on his cigarette and motioning toward the chair in front of his desk. “But are they all legal?” he asked.

  “As far as we can tell,” replied Hurami. “But I have an agent tailing one Iranian in particular. He has made frequent trips here for almost twenty-years. He has been making numerous inquiries about items which might be very suitable for use in nuclear weapons.” He reviewed his notes. “He has conducted a lot of business recently with an arms dealer named Hamid Mahdavi.

  “Mahdavi…yes he is an arms merchant, and I suspect he is also a spy for India’s Khüfīya Bureau,” Singh stated, as he entering the name into their database. “Our file shows he is an Indian citizen but has been living here for eighteen years. “What is the Iranian man’s name?” he asked, as he snuffed out his cigarette in the ash tray.

  Hurami handed him a contact report. “Rostam Tehrani, Director General.”

  “I think I know that name too,” Singh responded, as he quickly entered it into the ISI database search engine. “The Iranians have wanted to build a nuclear weapon for some time now,” he offered, as he scanned through the results.

  “I saw where our records show those two have concluded several large deals for military hardware.”

  “None involving nuclear weapons, I trust,” said Singh.

  “No director, but I’m sure Iran will keep trying to get one. They feel as we do, Islamic states need nuclear weapons to defend themselves.”

  Singh looked up at him with a steely gaze. “If you found out they were obtaining restricted nuclear materials, would you report it?” he asked.

  Hurami was taken aback by the question. “Yes, of course Director General, I respect our laws and international laws too.”

  “That is the correct response,” said Singh, scrolling down his screen. “Here it is…Rostam Tehrani, Iranian, former Republican Guard officer, arms buyer, believed to have participated in and helping to plan questionable activities designed to further Iran’s nuclear weapons ambitions, including the acquisition of restricted nuclear weapon related parts and drawings.”

  “How has he been able to avoid detection by our agency, Director General?”

  “I respect a man who is not afraid to ask me tough questions.” He tapped a pencil on the desk. “We will do our jobs…and we will catch him, he will make a mistake. If Mr. Tehrani comes here again I want someone watching him around the clock, and Mr. Mahdavi too.”

  What was not in the file was that Pakistani authorities were fairly certain it was Tehrani who had planned and led the attack on the convoy and stolen the U-235. Singh had been fully briefed but was forbidden to speak about it.

  “I will do it Director General.”

  Singh handed him back the report and clasped his hands on the desk. “Anything else?”

  Hurami hesitated as he slowly stood up. “Director General, I have learned of an Iranian scientist visiting our nuclear weapons development plant at Kahuta.”

  “That is none of our business,” said Singh, tersely. “You are a good section chief Asid, know what you limitations are. That is all.”

  “Thank you for your time Director General.” He got up and walked briskly out of the office.

  * * * *

  “You really look fantastic,” were the first words Maddy heard from Mark as she got into the car. “I like your tie,” was all she could think of. They both laughed. It seemed like old times again for Madeline and Mark, even if just for one evening. They ate and drank, and both wondered if they shouldn’t have tried harder to make their marriage work.

  “The dinner was wonderful Mark, thank you,” said a weary Maddy, barely able to get up the strength to smile. She struggled nobly to keep from dozing off.

  “Maddy, I have some news for you.”

  She looked fearfully at him, expecting him to announce he’d found a new soul-mate, but hoping terribly not to hear that. She still held feelings for him; no she still adored him, and missed his companionship a lot.

  “I’ve sold my interest in the business Maddy; I’m unemployed now,” Mark announced, a smile appearing on his face.

  Maddy felt a strange sense of relief. “What will you do with yourself?” she asked, trying to match Mark’s smile.

  “I’m going to take some time off and travel…go see the kids, and my brother in Saint Louis.”

  Mark held Maddy’s hand. “Maddy I miss you….I…umm … well, I dated a few other women, but there’s no one quite like you.”

  “Maddy sat somewhat dumbfounded…tears welled up in her eyes. She tried to hold them back. Thoughts filled her mind, He left me and hurt me. Maybe I should have given up the workaholic routine. It really was my fault, he was right. I wasn’t even a good soccer mom; he had to take the kids everywhere. Maddy could not hold back the tears any longer. She put her head down against Mark’s shoulder, closed eyes, and began sobbing.

  “Mark put his hand through her hair, then whispered in her ear, “I still love you Maddy.”

  “I love you too,” she said in a hushed voice.

  “Do you want me to go to your house with you?” Mark asked.

  Maddy struggled with the answer for a moment, then looked up at him and nodded.

  CHAPTER NINE

  It has been said that prosperity is the handmaiden of peace and the enemy of discontent. The Saudi Royal Palace outside Riyadh was a spectacular site, with brilliant white walls, soaring arches and marble floors. But the Saudi royal family was rapidly losing patience with President Acosta’s administration. They feared what effect Iran’s expanded influence in the region would have on their kingdom, for there remained wide-spread discontent over perceived inequities in the distribution of the kingdom’s vast oil wealth.

  “Thank you for coming Mr. Ambassador,” Saudi Crown Prince Fassid said to U.S. Ambassador, Corbin Brennan.

  “The Royal Palace is beautiful; I always enjoy coming here your highness.”

  Fassid motioned toward a red overstuffed chair with sculptured mahogany arms. “Mr. Ambas
sador, please sit down,” he said, grim faced.

  “Thank you,” said Brennan, trying to sound upbeat, but fearing the tongue lashing he figured he was about to get.

  “Mr. Ambassador, you need our oil, we need your protection. It is a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

  “Of course,” answered Brennan, “We have a long established security arrangement with your country…has something changed, your highness?”

  “Let me be blunt Mr. Ambassador; Yemen is a mess. Syria is a mess. Iraq is a huge mess. The Iranians are building nuclear bombs…shall I go on?” asked a frozen-faced Fassid.

  “Your highness, this part of the world always has challenges,” countered Brennan, smiling slightly.

  “Your country seems reluctant to act,” replied an irritated Fassid. “Iran is openly supporting terrorist groups in our country…they want to overthrow us…and your country’s inaction only serves to further embolden them.”

  “Your highness, please allow me to address your concerns.”

  Fassid sat showing no emotion.

  “We are working closely with governments in the region to ensure human rights are respected. Also, the President has made it clear no nuclear agreement with Iran would lead to war, and it provides for full nuclear inspections. The President will act if they do not fully comply with their obligations…I can assure you of that. And also, with your generous support, we are actively involved in fighting multiple terrorist organizations.”

  “Ambassador Brennan, the Iranian leadership is laughing at America,” Fassid said bluntly. “They will never end their quest for the bomb. And I remind you we are providing over two billion dollars in aid and loans to keep Egypt afloat, and we are funding much of the CIA’s Syrian operations too.”

  “Yes, thank you, that is all very helpful,” replied Brennan.

  Fassid looked away momentarily. “Regarding Syria, your President allowed himself to be outmaneuvered by the Russians and the Iranians. The Syrian regime is repressive and violates all human rights accords,” he said. Brennan bit his tongue, as Fassid went on. “Hezbollah terrorists are taking advantage of the fractured country; this could have been prevented by a regime change.”