INTELLIGENCE FAILURE

by Jon Sedran

  “I am sure you are referring to the shipment of U-235 that was supposedly hijacked…we have all heard about this many times before.”

  “Yes, but now we have some documents in our possession and some photos…maybe of the shipment after it was ambushed.”

  “Tell me something Maddy. Your government and the Iranians signed that agreement, yet many of us know they are still working to build a bomb. Does your President really believe they would ever give up trying to get one?”

  Maddy hesitated before answering. “I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head. “I just know if they are, we have to provide solid proof…and so far our agency has been unable to do that. Once I have your assessment of the authenticity of those inventory documents and now also these Krytron tubes, I may have more luck convincing everyone…but, I just don’t know.”

  “I will have an expert look at your documents.” he said, nodding sympathetically. “Will you need a hotel tonight?”

  “Yes, I have a flight home tomorrow afternoon.”

  “I will make the arrangement myself…and since it is too early to check in, my assistant Mr. Desai will first give you a tour of the city. I will ask him to come to my office and escort you out, and I will text you the hotel reservation shortly.”

  “Thank you very much Director,” she replied, getting up to leave.

  * * * *

  As news of the naval confrontation in the Strait had travelled around the world, countries were quickly taking sides. Two widely different versions of the incident were circulating. The U.S. was requesting the U.N. launch a full investigation. Maddy sat for most of the next day in the airport lounge in Mumbai. She watched the numerous news reports and scrolled through some notes on her tablet PC. I’m sure I finally have the verifiable information which has eluded us for so long. The material shipping documents, inventories, and now also special switches. Maddy’s phone came alive. Lowe texted he needed her back ASAP. The Joint Chiefs were asking DIA for real-time updates on the military situation in the Persian Gulf. She glanced up again at the monitor in the waiting area. CNN was reporting from Tehran on the naval encounter in the Strait and on the apparent sinking of two Iranian ships. Iranian leaders were threatening a major response. “My God”, she murmured. The saber rattling was now reaching a fevered pitch and she was glad to be heading home. She knew DIA was going to be chaotic. Text messages were beginning to pour in to her phone. She composed a short message to General Lowe updating her status just as they announced the boarding of her flight.

  * * * *

  The first set of first explosive lenses had arrived at Oghab-Three from the Parchin site. Used to compress the U-235 pit and start the chain reaction in an implosion type nuclear weapon, the machining is required to be exact out to a millionth of inch.

  Benuit’s team had struggled for hours to mate the pieces up to a simulated U-235 pit, but the pieces could not be made to fit properly. A frustrated Benuit had informed Javadi of the problem and that this would further delay the project.

  Separately, in another part of the facility a select group of technicians were quietly finishing up the two gun-type nuclear devices using the material stolen from Pakistan years early. Crude and inefficient, they were easy to assemble and a very reliable design that required no testing of a complete weapon. They would serve Javadi’s purpose well.

  * * * *

  Maddy had to deal with delays and missed connections all the way home and finally made it to D.C. late the next day. She texted Lowe and Barillas to let them know she was back and that she would be in first thing in the morning. She had to get some rest and decided to lie down on the couch. Pizza sounded good and a few keystrokes on the smart phone had one on the way. The nightly news was all bad with the situation in the Persian Gulf further deteriorating. DIA would be one very busy place.

  Morning came quickly. Maddy arrived at DIA headquarters while it was still dark outside. She headed to the analysts’ section where she found the staff frantically trying to get a handle on Iranian military moves in the Persian Gulf. Requests for intelligence on Iranian military assets were pouring in. Nearly everyone expected Iran would try to avenge the two sinkings.

  * * * *

  Javadi and Namazi arrived by car at Oghab-Three a little before noon. The general parked the car and they walked up to the entrance to the main building. There, they were met by an IRGC special security officer. He escorted them inside, then down a ramp and through a concrete corridor into the subterranean complex. They continued on for about fifty meters before arriving at a small conference room.

  The security officer opened the door for them. Benuit had arrived ahead of them and was waiting. He got up from the table as the two men entered. “May I offer either of you some coffee or tea?” he asked.

  “We don’t have time,” Javadi tersely answered for both of them.

  Then please come with me,” he said, motioning toward the door. The officer stepped aside and they headed off down a tunnel toward another part of the underground facility.

  “Ayatollah Javadi, your plan is certainly daring,” said Benuit, as they walked. “But…well…I still remain concerned about not telling the others.”

  Javadi’s face turned bright red; he stopped walking, turned and faced Benuit. Namazi stood scowling. “As I said before, I will tell them when the time is right…and you must not allow the other project to fall behind either,” he cautioned.

  “Of course, of course,” Benuit replied, nervously glancing at Namazi. They started walking again.

  “If we succeed the Zionist state will be in ruins,” said Javadi.

  Benuit looked at him. “They will blame us,” he again protested.

  Javadi nodded. “Perhaps, but as I said before, since the nuclear materials are not ours and delivery will be by a third party; it will leave no connection to us.”

  Benuit sighed loudly. We will all be dead soon, he figured.

  The three men continued on. A guard opened the door to a large room and stepped aside. There, near the center of the room was a heavy gray curtain mounted on a track fastened to the ceiling above. Benuit pulled the curtain aside, revealing two heavy metal carts sitting about ten feet apart. Each had steel wheels and a steel cradle welded to it. The cradle supported something resembling a twelve-inch diameter, six and a half foot long metal pipe with a two-foot diameter and two-foot long, round metal cylinder attached to one end of it.

  “They are nearly ready,” Benuit proudly announced.

  The men stood looking at the devices for a few moments. Then Javadi walked up to one of the carts for a closer examination. Benuit explained its features as he pointed to different areas on the first assembly. “This barrel assembly was made from a re-machined artillery barrel which was cut down to two-hundred fourteen centimeters long. These two metal clamps will go over the top of the barrel and secure it to the upright supports. The electrical wires will be run from the barrel end cap assembly you see lying on the cart, to a metal box with a battery inside.” Javadi walked around behind the first device. “Is the uranium in it?” he asked.

  “No, replied Benuit emphatically. “We will not place the fissile materials into the devices until just before each is ready to be loaded onto the planes, it is too dangerous otherwise.”

  “I see,” said Javadi, scowling.

  “Other designs, such as the plutonium two-point implosion, are far more practical and efficient than this one is, but far more difficult to build. This one wastes expensive critical materials, and is large and heavy, but it is simple and reliable,” said Benuit, adding, “Pakistan went on to new designs and made the material available to us…praise Allah.” He went on pointing out other areas of the assembly. “When the device is ready for final delivery, the propellant will be placed into the completed gun end assembly, but not before.” He knew just how unsafe this design really was once it was made ready for use.

  Javadi walked slowly around the cart. “Will it work?”

  Benuit pretende
d not hear the question and continued, “Then the end plate will be bolted tightly into place. Finally, the wires will be attached. A key inserted into the cockpit control box will arm the weapon.”

  Javadi glanced at Namazi but said nothing.

  “It will work?” Namazi repeated Javadi’s question, looking coldly at Benuit.

  Benuit nodded. “It will work,” he said, wiping the perspiration from his forehead with the back of his hand.

  Javadi smiled. “Well done,” he proclaimed. Benuit closed the curtain and escorted them out of the facility.

  “There is one more thing,” Namazi said, as he and Javadi headed back to their car.

  “And that is?”

  “One of my people got a call from a contact in Pakistan who had assisted us in getting the special materials. He told of two American intelligence agents, a man and a woman, who were snooping around, asking questions about the material that was reported to have been hijacked.”

  “They have looked into it a hundred times before,” replied Javadi confidently, as he got into the car and closed the door.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  For the next two weeks Maddy and her DIA team responded to a steady stream of inquiries from the Joint Chiefs for current intelligence and analysis on all Iranian military force levels and any repositioning of forces. Every DIA asset was put to work as staff tried to learn what Iran might be planning. America’s military leaders needed timely and complete assessments to position friendly forces to counter the threat.

  At the Pentagon, the Defense Secretary and the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs dropped in on Admiral Hardy to get updates on the incident.

  Hardy got up from his desk and picked up a laser pointer. “Gentlemen, the rhetoric coming out of Iran has certainly reached a fevered pitch…I think hostilities could break out at any time. DIA says Iran is repositioning their naval assets for combat operations all along their Persian Gulf coastline,” he reported, shining the laser on several locations a map displayed on a wall monitor. “As for the incident, our own naval investigators have been unable to determine with certainty what actually happened. They were hampered by a lack of cooperation by the Iranians, who still insist we launched an unprovoked attack on them in their waters.”

  Simpson shook his head. “Did they see the evidence we made available to the U.N. and to the international community?” he asked, adding, “The Princeton was clearly transiting the Strait under the rules of “Innocent passage” and was rammed most likely by an IRGCN suicide boat.”

  “They have made up their minds we launched an unprovoked attack and violated their national sovereignty. I doubt they will change their position on this incident,” Hardy replied.

  “Maybe they will listen to the U.N. investigators,” Simpson threw out, not really believing that would happen.

  “I’m comfortable with our assessment that it was a deliberate suicide attack on our naval vessel in an international recognized shipping channel,” Bingham added.

  Hardy went on to explain how explosive the situation was becoming. “Gentlemen, while so far no further exchanges have occurred, and they have not started laying mines, the Iranians are harassing our ships at every opportunity. Our ships’ captains are reporting the Iranians are maneuvering their vessels dangerously close to ours and playing a game of “chicken”, forcing our ships to change course and maneuver to avoid collisions. It is only a question of time before someone makes a mistake out there…with dire consequences.”

  “I agree,” said Simpson, nodding. “And the President’s worried too. He doesn’t want another full blown war,” he reminded them. “But, I’m afraid this is going to get ugly, especially if the U.N. investigators agree with our position. Thank you for the update admiral, we have to get going.”

  * * * *

  In Tehran, tempers were again flaring at a meeting of the Guardian Council and senior military commanders. Three weeks after the incident in the Strait, the preliminary U.N. report had just come out and showed the Princeton was legally in an international shipping channel, but investigators could not ascertain whether or not the collision was an accident. “Ayatollah Kaviani, we cannot endure any more American aggression,” roared an angry Namazi. “We patiently waited for almost a month only to get this phony U.N. preliminary report. It says the data appears to support the American contention of being in an international shipping channel, but it does not address their unprovoked firing on our ships.”

  “We knew the Americans owned the U.N and they would never allow an unbiased investigation,” declared Javadi, slamming his fist on the table.

  “The U.N. investigation was a cover-up and a farce,” added Tovar. “We clearly showed the investigators our patrol boats were operating in our sovereign waters when they were attacked.”

  “Captain Yavisht was a fine officer and a true professional. He would not have provoked the Americans in any way,” surmised Council member Ayatollah Arachi.

  Rabiei passed a message to Kaviani, who read it and stood up. “Our intelligence networks have learned of a U.S. Navy cargo ship transiting the Suez Canal possibly enroute to Yemen to unload supplies. This, after we agreed just days ago to order back our own cargo ships carrying humanitarian aid, to avoid a confrontation with the U.S. Navy.” He sighed and then added, “Yet, now the U.S. feels free to send one of their own ships there…damn them, I have had enough. The Americans are not interested in peace. That nuclear agreement means nothing to them.” He thought for a moment and then asked, “General Rabiei what do you recommend for our course of action?”

  “I believe Admiral Tovar’s naval forces are prepared to lay mines. I recommend we start with that,” Rabiei replied resolutely.

  “I agree,” said Javadi, “We should immediately mine the Strait and tie up oil shipments. This will drive up oil prices and quickly cripple the American economy.”

  “Our naval forces are indeed ready, we will not be intimidated,” Tovar said, adding, “If the Council approves, I will issue orders for our naval forces to stop and board that cargo ship if it attempts to enter Yemeni waters.

  The Council members all vigorously nodded their approval.

  “Okay, very well, begin laying mines…and stop that ship from entering Yemeni waters,” directed Kaviani. “We must now begin a series of military actions against the Americans, make sure our plans are ready.” Kaviani gathered his notes and then got up and left. The military officers following him out.

  Javadi waited until the door closed and then quietly said to Arachi, “We are close to completing our special project. I was against waiting for the U.N. to conclude their phony investigation before we acted…but we put the time to good use. I too am anxious to hit the Americans hard and teach them a lesson.” He paused and then said, “But, perhaps we should not let this turn into a full-blown conflict. Not just yet, not until the project is complete.”

  Arachi understood Javadi’s subtle hint and nodded. “Of course,” he replied, “I will suggest to the admiral they deploy only a limited number of mines for now.”

  * * * *

  It was evening by the time Maddy was able to make her way to DIA’s analysts’ section to get updated. She was ever anxious to get her team again working on the Iranian nuke program. Barillas happened see her coming through his inner office window and waved her in.

  “Anything new on Iranian nukes?” she asked, as she entered.

  “Honestly, I haven’t had much time.”

  “Just give me something…anything!” she pleaded.

  “Well, NSA intercepted an unencrypted e-mail from General Aboud of the Syrian general staff to a General Gashim of the Iranian Air Force about two weeks ago. The content included information about two aircraft which had just arrived at the Damascus Airport. Both aircraft were SD-360’s, usually used for hauling cargo on short routes.” Barillas clicked the mouse, opening up a web page. “It says here it’s a twin engine thirty-two passenger plane, used for cargo when the seats are removed. Here’s a picture of it,
” Barillas turned the monitor so she could see it.

  “It looks like a flying box,” said Maddy, sarcastically.

  “Barillas chuckled. “It seems neither plane had filed a flight plan, but satellite tracking confirmed they had departed from the little used Abadan Airbase in Iran. The e-mail intercept has General Aboud informing General Gashim the planes had arrived, and as agreed can stay for a month.”

  “That’s it?” Maddy asked incredulously. “My God, you weren’t kidding when you said, not much…you meant, not anything.”

  “But, wait, here’s the strange part, NSA also intercepted the e-mail reply from General Gashim. In it, he stated he knew nothing about the planes and they were not on any of his flight schedules…and he says he would know. The general suggested that General Aboud had incorrect information; maybe the flights had actually originated elsewhere?”

  “And?” Maddy asked, seriously unimpressed.

  “That’s it,” Barillas replied. “Two planes, the Iranian Air Force general responsible for flight scheduling in that area, knows nothing about them…seemed a little odd, that’s all.”

  “And the four photos we got from the informant in Pakistan?”

  “Three just showed bodies and burned vehicles. But I had the one of the van’s interior scanned and enlarged and shared it with the NNSA folks They reported that based upon the size and shape of that empty rack you could see in the photo, it could have held as many as four of the type of drum the Pakistanis are known to use for machined U-235. They couldn’t say with one-hundred percent certainty, but their best guess is the missing one-hundred twenty kilograms of U-235 would fit into four of those drums. And it is enough to make least two bombs.”