by Jon Sedran
A shaken ambassador replied, “I do not know about any of this, but I assure you I will look into it and get back to you quickly.”
“Very quickly,” corrected Certov.
“Yes, of course,” replied the ambassador.
“Thank you for your time, you may take those documents with you, said Koslov. The ambassador was shown out of the room and escorted down the hall out of the Kremlin. Koslov looked at the general. “Nobody in the Iranian government will know anything; they never do,” said a tired and cynical Koslov.
“What if they really don’t know?” asked Certov, adding, “I mean, is it possible that these attacks were carried out without top leadership approval?”
“You mean a rogue operation, two nuclear weapons, all without any official support?” asked Koslov.
“Unlikely, but possible,” said Certov, adding, “We are bringing back General Yakovlev from Tehran and will get his thoughts.”
* * * *
Shirazi had spent two days sleeping on the ground next to a parked truck at the Iran-Iraq border crossing. He had thought about going to a secluded area and crossing the border late at night, but decided it would be too dangerous. He knew that money talked in that part of the world. He had noticed the Iranians would open the border for a short time twice a day and allow passage of trucks with perishable goods. Just a short distance ahead was a refrigerated truck loaded with boxes of lettuce headed for Iraq.
He walked nervously up to the driver who was standing next to the driver’s door smoking a cigarette. “I need to get to my family in Baghdad,” he explained. “I have no passport and I cannot go back to Tehran.”
The driver tossed his cigarette down and stepped on it. “What do you want from me?” he asked.
“I will give you all the money I have and all my belongings, if you will let me ride in the back of your truck across the border.”
The driver looked around. “And how much money do you have?” he asked, continuing, “And is it that worthless Iranian currency?”
Shirazi was thankful he had been smart enough to stash away U.S. currency. “No, I have two-hundred-fifty American dollars,” he said.
The driver nodded. “That is good, but there are too many people watching us,” he replied as he walked slowly around to the back of his truck. He thought for a few moments, then told Ali, “Okay, I tell you what. You climb up in the back and look like you are rearranging the boxes, then I will close the doors when no one is looking. I hope you have a jacket, it is cold in there.”
“Yes, thank you, here is the money,” said Shirazi, as he discretely handed the driver the cash and climbed into the back of the truck. The driver tossed Shirazi’s belongings in.
“Put these far up in the front under several boxes…then you hide way up front too,” he instructed. He lit up another cigarette and casually walked around for a couple of minutes, satisfying himself no one was watching. Then he closed the doors.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The President’s National Security Advisor quickly made his way to the Oval Office. “Mr. President, The nuke material tests have just come back,” he announced, glancing down at his tablet PC. “They say ninety-five percent certainty it is Pakistani in origin. The percentages of alloys are consistent with their enrichment processes.”
Acosta thought for a moment. “Okay, we have confirmation of the source of the materials, now if the teams in Lebanon can show an Iranian connection to the two planes.”
Alby nodded. “I’m confident our teams in Lebanon will find the smoking gun.”
Acosta smiled weakly. “Ray, the Pakistani Prime Minister just called me an hour ago to express his country’s total revulsion at these attacks, and also to give his assurance that Pakistan did not, and will not, transfer nuclear materials to any other country or entity.”
“Should we tell him we have evidence showing otherwise?,” asked Alby, sarcastically.
“I believe he may be telling the truth,” replied Acosta. “That is, he may not even know it actually happened. A while back the Pakistani nuke program director operated free of government interference. He might have given them nukes, no questions asked.”
Alby sighed. “Ignorance couched in truthiness,” he said.
“I am about ready to act, Ray. We’ll give a little more time to the teams in Lebanon to report on what they found, and I don’t expect any surprises, then we go. Looks like NATO forces are ready too.”
* * * *
The Tuplov TU-214 jet touched down at Ramenskoye Military Airfield near Moscow. The flight having originated a few hours earlier in Tehran. The plane taxied to the VIP ramp where Yakovlev deplaned and headed for a waiting government limousine. A senior military attaché stepping forward to hold an umbrella over Yakovlev’s head to shield him from the heavy rain.
“Comrade General, welcome back to Moscow,” Dobrinin said, reaching out his hand as Yakovlev got in.
“Thank you,” he replied, adding, “It’s always good to be home comrade general. I wish the situation was not so… so unsettled,” replied Yakovlev, searching for the right word.
“Unsettled…much more than unsettled comrade, we could easily be dragged into a nuclear confrontation,” corrected Dobrinin. He pushed the button raising the glass screen separating the driver’s seat from the rear seats in the vehicle. “The General Directorate is convening and they want your assessment of Iranian culpability in these terrible events,”
“Of course, I will tell what I learned in Tehran…but I have been mainly involved with strengthening Iran’s air defense systems, and I have already e-mailed all my reports to headquarters,” Yakovlev reminded him.
“What about the possible high levels of uranium enrichment you previously reported?” asked Dobrinin.
Yakovlev shook his head. “Nothing more,” he said, our technicians were told by the Iranians to leave Natanz and we failed to get anyone into Fordow or Arak.
“Well, you must have heard things there, and they want to hear it from you personally,” Dobrinin assured him, adding, “The American President is doing all he can to restrain the Israelis…but for how much longer?”
Yakovlev looked over at him. “It appears the Israeli’s took a far smaller hit than did their Arab neighbor,” he concluded.
Dobrinin nodded and looked out the window, but said nothing.
Yakovlev glanced at his phone’s screen to see if there were any new messages. “I know the Israelis are pretty certain both bombs were intended for them and they will not take any chances that there are more where those came from. I suspect the Americans won’t wait much longer either.”
“I agree,” replied Dobrinin, adding, “A decision is being made on whether to remove most of our people from Iran.”
Yakovlev nodded.
“What we do next will be based largely upon what you have to tell them,” Dobrinin informed him.
“Nobody wants a nuclear war,” Yakovlev remarked in a quiet voice.
* * * *
“Please keep after it everyone. The nukes could start flying at any minute,” the President reminded his staff working in the White House Situation Room. He had just returned after getting some much needed rest. The Joint Chiefs were in constant contact with their subordinate commanders around the globe. Their counterparts half a world away in the Kremlin, were doing the same thing. Both Washington and Moscow wanted to contain the situation and not let it spiral out of control.
“Mr. President, the Israelis have started bombing targets in Lebanon again, said Alby. “Looks like mostly rocket launching sites and some air defense radar sites. Reports say Hezbollah are firing large volleys of rockets into Israel.”
“Make sure the Israelis have whatever they need,” instructed a weary Acosta.
“They have been authorized to use materials from our strategic stockpiles,” replied Alby, adding, “And they are getting round-the-clock resupply.
“Mr. President, we have limited military resources on station right now in the Per
sian Gulf region,” advised Bingham. “You have the current list in front of you in the red folder. The first three pages are all the naval and air assets available, pages four and five are Army and Marine ground assets”
Acosta quickly opened the folder and began reading through the list. Turning to the third page, he asked, “Only one carrier in the area?”
“Yes sir, budget cuts have kept us from deploying a second one,” interjected Hardy.
Acosta glanced up at the Admiral nodding slightly, “Well, we did warn congress.”
“Yes sir, we did,” replied the Admiral.
“Mr. President, we still have plenty of firepower in the area, and if we hit them very hard and very fast, this will be over before we need to move more assets into the area,” Bingham suggested.
“Acosta set the folder down, Alex, what’s your assessment?”
“Mr. President, while I have the utmost confidence in our military, I do feel that if the Iranians are willing to sacrifice their people, and I think they are, they can really make a mess.”
Acosta looked at him quizzically. “Please go on,” he requested.
“Well, Mr. President we have seen and heard enough to know that they really don’t need to secure a military victory in the sense that we see as a victory,” replied Simpson. “That is to say, just sinking some big capital ships, knocking down some aircraft, and heaven forbid, parading some captive American pilots before the cameras would be a victory to them. Even if their own material and manpower losses were much greater.”
“Anybody have anything else?” the President asked, putting away his reading glasses. No one said anything. “Okay, keep me posted.”
* * * *
In a secure bunker under the Knesset Building, the Israeli Prime Minister was reviewing his options. On the large wall monitors was displayed the status of all Israeli military forces. All reserves were being called up and all military assets were at maximum alert status, the equivalent of DEFCON One for U.S. forces. The Israel’s government’s top leaders had assembled in the bunker.
“The special weapons?” the prime minister asked, looking grimly at Dayan.
“They are all readiness condition one and the arming codes have been uploaded, said a resolute Dayan. “The launch codes will have to come from you and me.”
“Good. I want every option, we may get hit again!”
“We have a Dolphin Class submarine with four nuclear-tipped cruise missiles on station less than seventy-five kilometers from the Iranian coastline, assured Dayan, continuing, “Targeting is already in their guidance systems. The F-15’s will be airborne momentarily, and of course, the Jericho III’s are fully armed and only await the launch command.
“We will hit only military targets first, correct?” asked Klein.
“That is what we have planned Prime Minister,” said Dayan.
“Sounds like you are having second thoughts?” suggested Klein.
“Mr. Prime Minister they attacked our city, that was not a military target,” replied Dayan.
“Do you think we should nuke Tehran?” replied Klein.
Dayan stood silently for a few moments, and then answered. “I’m not sure,” he said.
“How powerful are the devices,” Klein wanted to know.
“The Jericho can carry our largest device. It is a fusion-boosted weapon and has a maximum dialable yield of one-hundred fifty kilotons,” reported Dayan.
“How many people do you estimate it would kill?” asked Klein.
“Most of Tehran would be destroyed. I do not know the exact expected casualty figures,” said Dayan.
“A million?” Klein threw out.
“Probably less,” Dayan replied.
Klein took off his glasses and stood up. “In spite of the Holocaust, and the centuries of persecution we Jews have endured, we are not going to become barbarians,” he said emphatically, as he turned and left the room.
* * * *
“Welcome back, Comrade General Yakovlev. We called you back to Moscow because in light of the two terrible events, we need to know more about the uranium enrichment issue…and we also want to know your assessment of the military situation in Iran.”
“Unfortunately comrades, as I reported, all our technicians were directed to leave the Natanz facility almost two months ago. And while we still have nuclear technicians in Iran, none have been able to find out anything more.”
Andropov frowned. “That is too bad,” he said. “We must determine if they had a hand in these horrible events.” I tried to warn you people about their enrichment,Yakovlev thought.
“Tell us about their military forces status, general”
“My team’s activities have included equipping and training the Iranian military in the use of our newest weapons,” said Yakovlev. “Primarily, we have been working with their air defense forces in the proper use of our newest air defense missile systems.”
“Of course, and what is your assessment of their capabilities?” asked Certov.
“Comrade General, our missile systems are the finest in the world,” proclaimed Yakovlev, adding, “And we trained them well…they are ready. The Americans and NATO will pay a heavy price if they choose to attack Iran.”
Certov nodded slowly.“War is now almost certain, Comrade.”
Andropov leaned forward in his chair and then said, “The Americans want to establish a no-fly zone over Iran. Comrade General, if we send you back, let me be clear on something. Should war break out, which is highly likely, you are not to directly participate in the launching of weapons against American or NATO forces…unless of course, Russian forces are attacked,” he directed, adding, “Comrade Generals, if we are provided proof of Iran’s involvement in the two nuclear attacks, we will be forced to immediately re-assess our relationship with them.”
Yakovlev sat silently for a few moments. “To be clear, my men and I may continue to assist the Iranians in setting up their weapon platforms?” he asked.
“Yes, for now, but you may not help them with tracking or guidance if there is a war,” directed Certov.
“Or launching weapons,” Andropov added.
“I understand,” said Yakovlev, looking somewhat dejected at possibly missing the opportunity to use his country’s latest hardware to humble the Americans.
“If you trained them well general they should not need your assistance - our weapons systems will do their job,” said Certov.
“They are well trained,” Yakovlev assured him, “Very well trained.”
* * * *
After two more hours, the delivery truck with Shirazi hidden in the back, and now shivering, was finally waved up to the Iraqi border and customs gate. His hands were nearly numb, but he was hopeful his ordeal would soon be over. He felt the truck move and stop several times, then it stopped again and he heard voices. Suddenly, the doors swung open. He didn’t dare move. He could hear someone climbing up into the back of the truck followed by footsteps just a few feet from his hiding spot. Then he saw a flashlight beam moving back and forth over his head and heard the sound of some boxes being moved just a few feet from him. Then silence. After another minute Shirazi thought he could hear the sound of the doors closing. He breathed a sigh of relief. The truck lurched forward again, slowed, and then picked up speed. He had made it. Never again, he thought.
* * * *
“Mr. President, I believe we have the final pieces of the puzzle,” declared an excited Alby, as he and CIA Director Lewiston entered the Oval Office.
“Have a seat gentlemen,” said Acosta.
“The special teams we sent to Lebanon had some good luck,” Alby reported.
Acosta put his elbows on the desk and leaned forward. “What have we got?”
“Our people went into a hangar at the Beirut airport and found empty crates of the right size and shape. They also measured levels of background radiation; the technicians said were consistent with nuke bombs having been there.” He paused, then went on, “They also found bot
h plane’s maintenance records had been left in the hangar. The planes had been leased from an air freight business in Amman. They tracked down the owner, and he told the investigators the planes were leased to a flight school in Damascus. It seems one of the planes had developed an engine problem a couple of weeks back. A needed replacement part had been shipped by Fed-Ex from the distributor in Germany to an aircraft maintenance company located at that airport. The engine serial number had been sent to the supplier as it was needed to assure the correct part was sent. The payment for the replacement part was traced back to a Hezbollah front company in Beirut.
“Seems sloppy on their part,” Acosta observed.
“Mr. President I don’t think they really cared about being found out. I think they are proud of what they did and want the whole world to know it.
“Anything else,” Acosta asked.
Lewiston nodded. “Mr. President, we found the aircraft part was paid for out of an account in Zurich. We got Interpol to do some serious arm-twisting and we can show the account is a Hezbollah account. We also have proof of periodic electronic transfers of funds into that account from another account; an Iranian account.” He paused, and then went on, “And there’s more, the day before the payment was made for the part, there was a funds transfer into that account from the Iranian account in the same amount as the payment.
“That’s good enough for me,” the President replied, adding, “I’ll have all this presented to the U.N. and to the world.” He looked over at his Outlook calendar on his PC monitor. “I’ll also schedule a news conference for six pm tonight. Then he hit the direct dial number for the Secretary of State on his phone. She picked up immediately. “Nancy, I am sending you some info on what our teams found in Lebanon, and I am going to do a news conference at six pm. Read through the intelligence reports, then present it all to the U.N. and separately to the Russians.”