INTELLIGENCE FAILURE

by Jon Sedran

  “Yes sir,” replied Lowe and Maddy almost simultaneously. Lowe closed up his attaché case and they were escorted out.

  “Okay, if the test results show the nuclear materials originated in Pakistan or Iran, we go,” said Acosta.

  * * * *

  That evening at a hastily convened White House press conference, the President’s spokesperson took to the podium looking out over a chaotic scene. Trying three times to get the room quiet, he finally he just began to speak, “You should all know, we have been flying round the clock humanitarian aid to both Jordan and Israel.” The room fell silent, and he went on, “The President is asking the Israelis and Jordanians to refrain from launching any attacks until we can verify who is responsible for these two atrocities. All three of our countries are working together to get rock-solid proof as to who committed, and who was behind, these attacks. These were attacks by maniacs, on all of civilized society. At this time, preliminary reports have Israeli casualties at about two-thousand. In Jordan’s capital, our estimates are four to five thousand. I must stress these are only preliminary estimates. The President has ordered every intelligence agency to use every resource they have to find out exactly who did this. He wants to form a united front. Our military forces in the Persian Gulf are now at DEFCON Two, as are our Mediterranean forces. When we have determined who is culpable, we will act decisively. Sorry, no questions tonight. He quickly turned and left.

  * * * *

  As help poured in to the two stricken countries, the next twenty-four hours saw governments around the world trying to get answers and place blame for the shocking attacks. In Tehran, Kaviani was demanding answers too. He sat reviewing the inventories of Iran’s highly enriched fissile materials when Javadi entered the room. “Ayatollah Javadi, I am not sure I have all the pieces of the puzzle yet laid out before me,” said Kaviani, eyeing him suspiciously, but detecting no visible reaction.

  “I assure you, a full accounting of our fissile materials is underway and it will show it was not Iranian materials or facilities which were used to build those two bombs,” Javadi replied confidently.

  “I hope so. I am in a very difficult position,” said Kaviani. “I cannot even acknowledge we enriched uranium to a sufficient level to make a bomb, nor dare mention the plutonium production at Arak.”

  “No, we must not let anyone know,” Javadi agreed.

  A knock at the door stopped their conversation. “Come in,” said Kaviani.

  “Ayatollah Kaviani, the news team is waiting for you,” the public affairs staffer announced, poking his head in the door.

  “I will be right there.” He slowly got up to go before the cameras. “Prior to this day, I have always used the term ‘Zionist state’, he told Javadi as he walked past him.

  Standing before the cameras of every major news network, he cleared his throat and began to speak in solemn tones, “Iran did not commit these atrocities against either Israel or against our Muslim brothers in Jordan. Our nuclear program has always been for peaceful purposes. We do not know who is responsible for these heinous acts, but we will cooperate fully with the U.N. to determine that as quickly as possible. We ask all the United Nations member states to withhold judgement and hold off of any authorization to use force until all the facts are known.” He looked down for a moment. “Certain countries will seek to exploit these terrible events and will try to implicate Iran. They will use these events as an excuse to attack us. Our nation does not desire war, but we will exercise our right to defend our sovereign territory against all aggressors. No country should underestimate our resolve.” He walked away from the microphones and left the room.

  * * * *

  “Mr. President, King Haddad of Jordan is on the phone,” announced a military aide seated at a communications console in the Situation Room.

  The President quickly picked up the call. “King Haddad very glad to hear your voice, I was worried.”

  “Thank you Mr. President. I know you’ve been trying to reach me…I’m sure you can understand, I have been very busy here.”

  “Yes, of course! My people tell me the bomb went off near the eastern edge of the city, in a less-populated area. Is that correct?”

  “Yes, praise Allah, but I have estimates of up to five-thousand dead and many more seriously hurt.”

  “We have six C-17 planes enroute to you with medical supplies and more will follow,” the President told him.

  “Thank you. I spoke with Prime Minister Klein about an hour ago, he tells me they have about two-thousand dead and about the same number injured.

  “Yes, I have those figures too,” replied Acosta. “I want you to know we are very close to being one-hundred percent certain that Iran and Hezbollah were behind the attacks.”

  “Why us, Mr. President? Because of our involvement in Syria?” asked a perplexed Haddad.

  “We are not certain yet, but we believe the second target was likely Tel Aviv, and the poorly trained suicide pilots got lost in the darkness,” offered Acosta.

  “That is plausible,” Haddad responded. “My people tell me they were flying erratically in and out of our airspace.”

  “Help is one the way. Our planes will airlift the most seriously injured to hospitals around the region.”

  “Thank you,” replied a very shaken Haddad.

  “One last thing, I have asked the Israelis to refrain from attacking Iran until the investigation is complete. I am asking you to do the same.”

  “We will review all our options.”

  “Good, our ambassador to the UN will be giving a speech to the General Assembly later today, and the Security Council will meet in emergency session.”

  “I will be in touch Mr. President, goodbye.”

  Alby rushed across the room to the President. “Mr. President, the first comments from Iranian leadership were about what we expected, “From Iran’s official news agency, ‘Iran vehemently denies any involvement in these heinous acts.’”

  The President shook his head.

  * * * *

  At the command center in Tel Aviv, the Israeli leadership was growing increasing impatient with the pace of the American led investigation. Klein sat with down Dayan to hear a report from armed forces commander, General Itan Harel.

  “Mr. Prime Minister the soil samples we tested at the Dimona lab show most likely Pakistani origin based upon the percentage of impurities in the fissile materials,” reported Harel. “The Haifa device was almost certainly a uranium gun type, and likely both were. They are the easiest to design to fabricate.

  A sullen Klein said nothing.

  “Why wait for the Americans to confirm it?” Harel asked.

  Klein took a sip of water. “So, Pakistan provided their neighbors with enough fissile materials to make at least two nuclear bombs.”

  “Or they just gave them two bombs,” Harel threw out, adding, “At any rate, the samples we sent to Washington are being tested and the results should be back shortly. If they confirm what we found, what will we do?”

  “I don’t know yet general. President Acosta has sent in teams, as have we, to Lebanon where the flights originated. He feels we must see irrefutable proof of Iranian sponsored Hezbollah involvement before we begin military strikes of the magnitude we are contemplating.”

  “Mr. Prime Minister, the two planes departed from Beirut,” declared Dayan indignantly, holding up flight records and radar logs. “Mossad confirmed their departure times and flight plans. Drones were launched simultaneously to confuse our radars. This is unquestionably a Hezbollah operation…and they could never have done it without Iran’s full support!”

  Klein thought for a few moments. “As soon as the Americans leave the area, go ahead and hit them hard from the air,” he directed, “No ground forces just yet, but be ready.”

  “There are already reports of a half-dozen new missile attacks in the north, we cannot take out all their mobile launch sites from the air,” Dayan reminded him.

  “General?” he asked
looking at Harel.

  “I recommend we hit their launch sites with artillery fire too,” he replied.

  “I will tell the U.N. to immediately evacuate its observers…then do it,” directed Klein.

  * * * *

  In the White House Situation Room, the near-frantic pace had not let up for two days as reports poured in from around the world. So far armed conflict had remained confined to Israel and Hezbollah trading missile and artillery fire and Israel striking targets in Lebanon and Syria with bombs and cruise missiles.

  “Mr. President, we are receiving reports that Hezbollah has increased their firing of missiles into Israel and they are using longer range missiles. And even more troubling, our Rivet Joint aircraft is picking up the electronic signals that are leading us the believe the Israelis are readying their nuclear forces,” reported the Defense Secretary, adding, “And looks like another volley of cruise missiles are launching from Israeli aircraft and subs and heading toward Syria.”

  “Heaven help us if they have nukes on them,” said Acosta.

  “I don’t think so Mr. President, not yet. They would have told us. We should have further intelligence assessments from CIA and DIA shortly.

  “Keep on it,” directed Acosta, reaching for a phone.

  * * * *

  The over-worked DIA headquarters staff had spilt up into teams and was rotating eighteen hours on and six hours off. Most lived too far away to go home and come back, and instead just slept on the couches in the lobby or wherever they could find a spot on the floor.

  “Maddy, did you see the Pakistani Prime Minister on the news?” he asked.

  “No, what did he say?” Maddy asked.

  “He vehemently denies his country ever had any nuclear material stolen nor did they transfer any to any country, ever. He said he does not know how the Hezbollah organization would have obtained such material, if in fact they are the ones who carried out these deplorable attacks.”

  “Okay, well, we have sufficient proof that U-235 was stolen, and that Iran was almost certainly behind the theft,” said a red-faced Maddy, barely able to contain her anger. “The materials went to Iran, and then the completed bombs went to Hezbollah.”

  “The nuke blast test results will be solid proof of the origin,” said Barillas, adding, “The Iranians are of course, denying any involvement. Could a stateless organization like Hezbollah have done this by themselves?”

  “Get real Aaron…do it completely undetected?” said Maddy, raising her voice as she finally lost her temper. “If the President still doesn’t believe Iran was behind this and that the material came from Pakistan, I’m going to fucking resign. What the hell’s new from NSA?”

  He clicked the mouse and scrolled down the screen. “Looks like when the Iranians mobilized their military forces NSA’s scanners in Baghdad went nuts. I think they picked up damn near everything… I’m seeing lots of good stuff,” he happily told her.

  “Great, so what do we know Aaron?”

  “I’m looking…their military is confused about the situation. Many of their commanders are asking for information on what to do. Tehran is telling their commanders to mobilize and await further instructions,” he said, continuing, “All of their navy ships have been ordered to leave port immediately. Some Plan named ‘Swift Victory’ is mentioned numerous times in their military communication traffic. Hundreds of e-mails with GPS coordinates of their naval assets…and ours. Plus orders for IRGCN commanders to assume their duties onboard ships. Looks like they are sending about one-hundred small boats out now. I see here their minelayers have orders to go to their deployment areas. A destroyer and a Kilo-class sub, the Noor 902, and thirteen mini-subs have orders to leave port.”

  “Print it all out please.”

  “Here it comes. Oh, and I finally got to those NSA intercepts you had requested on Namazi, Javadi and Benuit and some key words.”

  “And”

  “And, I saw this,” he said, handing her a printout.

  Maddy read it out loud. “The voice ident shows it’s that physicist Benuit and someone else… unidentified …U-235, plutonium…and we have this other one, equipment…Oghab-Three , whatever the hell that is…shit, it all fits together. I have to go brief General Lowe. She took the printouts and left.

  Oghab-Three, it had to be the place they built the bombs, but it could almost anywhere in Iran, he thought.

  * * * *

  General Ben-Artzi, IAF Northern Command commander stood looking at the wall monitor in a bunker at Ramat David AFB, displaying real-time information on tactical air assets.

  “General, the first wave of cruise missiles just hit their targets in Lebanon and the drones and F-15’s and F-35’s are airborne,” reported a subordinate.

  Ben-Artzi nodded and mumbled, “Good.”

  “General, we are also jamming their SA-300 radars, and we’re hitting them with cyber-attacks too,” reported a subordinate commander.

  Ben-Artzi sighed. “We have to assume even more Hezbollah rockets will be coming soon,” reminded a worried Ben-Artzi.

  “General, Tel Aviv has ordered everyone in Northern Israel not already in shelters, to go there,” reported a junior officer.

  Ben-Artzi looked again at the monitor. “Thank you,” he said.

  * * * *

  “They are attacking us now,” reported Marid, speaking on his cellphone from a Hezbollah command and control site in southern Lebanon. The muffled sound of explosions could be heard in the background.

  “You have my permission and the blessings of Allah, to rain more death onto the heads of the Zionists,” al-Salim responded, adding, “Destroy their cities.”

  “We will begin right away, all our launchers are in position,” reported Marid, anxious to begin.

  “Very good commander, keep me informed…soon final victory will be ours.”

  “Praise be to Allah,” Marid said, hanging up. He gave the order to his subordinate, “Hassan, call all units, tell them to begin launching rockets at the specified intervals.”

  “It is done,” replied Hassan.

  * * * *

  “Mr. President, if we provide proof of Iranian involvement in these attacks, Moscow will agree to remove their technicians and stand aside. They want us agree not to invade and occupy Iran and to only destroy militarily strategic targets,” said Kragen, reporting to the President in the Oval Office.

  Acosta thought their offer reasonable. “Tell them we have no interest in another protracted war and occupation, and we will agree to those terms,” said Acosta.

  “The Pakistanis will of course, deny any knowledge of any nuke materials transfer, Mr. President,” said Kragen.

  “Of course,” said Acosta, nodding. “Bingham just texted me; our forces and NATO’s will be ready in few hours.” He glanced up at the scenes of destruction being shown on the T.V. and shook his head. “We will hit Iran hard as soon as we have the proof.”

  * * * *

  “Comrade President, we got a hold of the Iranian ambassador as you requested,” said the Kremlin Security Chief. He was sleeping and said he didn’t want to be disturbed…we disturbed him…our people are giving him a ride here now.”

  Koslov smiled faintly. “Good, I need answers,” he declared, adding, “And I need them now.”

  “President Acosta has agreed to a non-nuclear response and to restrain the Israelis in kind, but I fear time is running out,” said his foreign minister, adding, “The evidence is pointing to Iran.”

  “It looks like Comrade General Yakovlev was correct about what his operative saw in Iran,” admitted General Certov.

  “Mr. President, the ambassador is here to see you,” announced the Kremlin security chief.

  “Send him in,” directed Koslov, tersely.

  “We will get nothing from this stooge,” said Certov.

  “Yes. He will tell us again how Iran has only a peaceful program,” offered the President in his most sarcastic tone. The Iranian ambassador was led to a large room on
the main floor of the Kremlin. There Koslov, his foreign minister, and Certov were seated at a large table near the back of the room.

  “Mr. Ambassador please sit down,” Koslov requested in an unmistakably stern tone. The ambassador, who spoke fluent Russian, had obviously been escorted quickly out of his residence. His clothing was disheveled and his hair was not combed.

  “Why was I disturbed?” he demanded to know.

  Koslov said nothing for a few moments and just sat looking at him. “The world is teetering on the brink of a nuclear confrontation; one that will have no winners. Your country may hold the key to preventing a nuclear war,” he said.

  “What can I do?” he asked.

  “Mr Ambassador look at the documents in front of you,” Koslov instructed. The ambassador looked down and flipped through some photos and other sheets.

  Certov waited for a minute. “The documents show that the two planes which were used in the attacks had traveled from an air force base in Iran, to Damascus, where the crews trained in them for over a month,” he explained. The Iranian ambassador intently studied the documents for a minute, and then set them down, saying nothing.

  Certov continued, “Then the planes went on to Beruit, where they were put in a hangar. The hangar was rented to a person known to be affiliated with Hezbollah. Late that night the planes departed for their final destinations.”

  The Iranian ambassador sat for a few moments, seemingly at a loss for words. “Mr President, Iran supports the freedom fighters of Hezbollah, but we do not give them nuclear weapons. We ourselves, have none to give them!” he declared, emphatically.

  Certov looked intently at the ambassador. “Mr Ambassador, a security guard at the Beruit airport told our investigator about two trucks which had arrived at the airport in the middle of the night the same day the planes arrived. The trucks were let in through a side gate and went to that same hangar. That same security guard said he recalled stopping the trucks, and that the drivers both had Iranian drivers licenses. Do you have any idea what might have been in those trucks?” he asked, his patience wearing thin.