by Jon Sedran
America’s newest and deadliest UAV, the AQ-190 was now roaming the skies over Iran. If any Iranian radar site was able to get operating, the drone quickly detected the signal and launched an advanced homing, or HARM missile, against it. It was a marvel of U.S. technology and innovation. What set it apart from all other drones was its fully autonomous mode of operation and ability to defend itself. No human controller was needed and there were no signals which could be jammed. The UAV would fly a pre-programmed route. It carried on-board four radar homing missiles and two AAMRAM missiles in internal bays. For the first time a UAV could defend itself against threats from enemy fighters and even engage them. In tests conducted at the Air Force’s Groom Lake test facility, F-22 pilots were unable to stay with the drone as it used its engine’s thrust vectoring nozzle to pull abrupt evasive maneuvers in excess of twelve G’s. Anytime the rearward looking optical and passive detectors saw a threat, the on-board computer would begin evasive maneuvers. Its nose housed a modified F-22 radar which could target enemy aircraft and launch missiles against it.
“Look at that thing go,” announced Lieutenant Colonel Gary Tolland, Operation Valiant Hammer, AQ-190 Drone Strike Force mission commander. He and his team were operating from a darkened room in building 341 at the Tonopah Test Range Air Base in Nevada. From almost ten-thousand miles away, U.S. Air Force personnel were watching everything unfold in real-time through the lens of the AQ-190’s ARGUS-IS three-hundred sixty degree, super high resolution camera mounted beneath the aircraft.
“Shit, look at that…drone seven two one just launched against an SA-300 radar site and destroyed it,” announced one of the operators from his console.
“Unreal, we just get to sit back and watch,” said squadron operations officer, Captain Davis.
“They’re handing us off four more AQ-190’s just airborne from Prince Sultan Air Base,” announced Tolland.
“Okay, colonel we’ve got their signals and are tracking them,” replied Davis.
* * * *
After enduring two days of heavy allied attacks, Iran had managed to lay down two-thousand mines in the Strait and began to launch its own missiles against targets in neighboring countries. At DIA’s Command Center in D.C, analysts and senior staff were scrambling to keep up with the rapidly unfolding events. The flow of information coming into the center was ten times the normal volume. Everyone quickly realized it would be impossible to deal with it all in a timely fashion. Maddy had set herself up at an unused deck in the analysts’ area to help out.
“Maddy, the missiles are flying!” announced Barillas, reading a real-time situation report on his PC monitor, while simultaneously looking up at CNN News live on the wall monitor. “Looks like the Iranians are targeting Saudi port and oil facilities all around the Persian Gulf. Missile hits at the Saudi Abqaiq refinery and the Ras Tanura offshore oil loading facility.”
“Well, gas will hit five dollars in a few days,” one of Barillas’ team members sarcastically mumbled under his breath.
“Does the report say which type of missiles they are using, or how many fired so far?” asked an analyst assigned to assess Iran’s missile technology.
“Says a combination of Shahab-One and Shahab-two missiles. At least two-dozen fired, so far,” Barillas answered.
“Only at Saudi targets?” she asked.
“That’s all the report has. Here, read it yourself,” he replied, handing her a printed copy of the situation report.
Maddy looked up from her desk. “Okay, just got a call from General Lowe. The Joint Chiefs want an initial damage assessment of Iran’s missile launching sites,” she announced.
“Most of their launchers are mobile and hard to pinpoint, Director Teagan, certainly they know that,” offered an analyst.
“I’m sure they do…just have your team check the latest satellite imagery…do whatever you can.”
“Right away Director,” the analyst replied, turning and rushing back over to her team.
“Missiles hit Al Udeid Air Base in Qatar, two KC-10 tankers destroyed on the ramp,” reported Barillas, reading an updated DOD situation report out loud.
“What about Baghdad,” Maddy yelled at Barillas over the din in the command center. “NSA’s got the largest damn intelligence gathering facilities outside the CONUS…don’t they have anything from the Iranian leadership? They must be communicating at every level in order to launch those missiles, damn it.”
“I’ll call again Director and tell them to expedite the XKeyScore stuff.”
“Have one of your staff do it Aaron. I need you on this JCS request.”
* * * *
In the command center under the main government administration building in Tehran, Iran’s top leadership was riding out the allied bombing campaign. The reports coming in were mostly gloomy. Allied superiority in every area was taking a heavy toll on the Iranian military. Most airbases were no longer functioning and naval port facilities were in flames. Iran’s entire oil production infrastructure, including Karg Island, had suffered heavy damage.
“The American President held a news conference,” announced Rabiei’s military aide. “It is being replayed on monitor number three.”
Rabiei watched for a minute. “All lies, only lies,” he shouted.
“General, air defense command reports they have two radars back up and have detected large numbers of fast moving aircraft approaching the coastlines from several directions,” reported an anxious air force general holding a phone to his ear. “General, now they are reporting all their screens just went dark.”
“General, we have lost communications with all of our early warning radar sites,” reported another senior military officer.
A frustrated Rabiei shook his head. “Damn them! Try the back-up systems,” he directed. “The Russians assured us their newest missile systems were hardened against these relentless cyber-attacks…more lies.”
“Trying now,” replied the officer.
“Getting calls now from coastal defense units in all sectors. They are under attack, general,” yet another officer reported.
Rabiei threw his tablet PC across the table and stood up. “Notify all commands, full mobilization…get me General Yazdi on the secure line,” he directed.
“General, air defense command western sector reports radars are showing only some commercial air traffic, but there are explosions occurring at virtually every one of our military sites.
“General, we have lost our communication links with most of air defense surface-to-air missile sites,” reported the communications officer. Just then all the console monitors all went dark. “We have also lost all communica…..” The room shook and pieces of concrete fell from the ceiling. A low boom and ominous rumble reverberated through everything. There were a few seconds of silence, then another boom followed by yet another.
* * * *
On the Golan Heights, Israeli precision munitions and a barrage of cruise missiles were beginning to be effective in slowing, and even stopping the advance by Syrian armor, backed by Hezbollah fighters and Iranian QUDS forces. Israel’s armed forces extensive use of cyber weapons had rendered many Syrian air defense missile batteries ineffective and had given Israel control of the skies. Syrian armor had tried to advance quickly under cover of darkness, but was caught in the open and pounded by high tech weapons that were as effective at night as in daylight. IAF fighter aircraft were able to minimize their exposure to the surface to air missile danger by releasing their weapons a safe distance away while operators using cameras on stealthy drones accurately guided the weapons to their targets.
“Their losses are not sustainable,” remarked the air force commanding general briefing Harel and his staff in the military command center in Tel Aviv.
“I agree, but just in case I have moved our two best armored units forward in the Golan,” Harel reported.
“So long as we do not run out of missiles before they run out of tanks, we will be fine, and the Americans are resupplying us
quickly,” added the defense minister, now nervously optimistic.
* * * *
In Tehran, the pieces of the puzzle were starting to come together for Kaviani. The Russians had confronted the Iranian ambassador with the information they had found in Lebanon, as well as what was found there by the U.S. teams. The ambassador, in turn, had presented it all to the Iranian President who made sure Kaviani saw it.
“Have you found Asam Benuit?” one very angry Kaviani asked his security detail chief.
“Unfortunately no…we have looked everywhere,” he replied.
“Damn it, he didn’t just disappear. Find him!” shouted Kaviani.
“Immediately,” the chief replied, motioning to his two lieutenants to head toward the door.
“And be quick…I must speak with him. I don’t want him to go into hiding,” said Kaviani.
“As you wish, ayatollah.” The three quickly left the room.
* * * *
The White House Situation Room was running at full speed. Phones were ringing, and the staff was frantically reading and typing text messages while their eyes were simultaneously glued to the wall monitors.
“Once Iran’s air defense systems are sufficiently degraded, our priority will be to make sure they don’t have any more nukes, or the capability to make more, and that could take some time,” advised Bingham, adding, “We are going to have to hit their known reactor and enrichment facilities.”
“What about the Russian advisors…and spreading radiation everywhere,” asked the Secretary of State.
“The Russians have been warned; the radiation is definitely a consideration,” replied Bingham, “Our targeting must be precise. We will force the shutdown of their reactors without causing major breaches, and bury their centrifuges under tons of concrete and dirt. We are also going to use our most lethal cyber warfare, and if successful, it may mitigate the need for extensive kinetic actions.”
Simpson looked worried. “The Israelis want assurances Iran’s nuke weapons capabilities are completely removed, and that may require boots on the ground.”
“The President says no boots,” Bingham replied firmly, shaking his head.
* * * *
A very discouraged Kaviani sat by himself at a table in a small room at end of the Tehran underground command center. He looked up as two security guards escorted a shackled Dr. Benuit into the room.
“Sit down,” directed Kaviani. “Leave us,” he directed the guards. He waited until the door closed. “In light of the recent events, I asked you here because I need to know the status of our special project,” he said, in an icy tone.
“Yes, of course, what do you want to know?” Benuit answered nervously.
“Specifically, what is the status of our special materials?” asked Kaviani. “I have the last inventory you provided in front of me, is all of the special material still accounted for?”
“Yes, of course. If you are thinking any of it went into those two devices, I assure you it did not, they were made …I mean.”
“Kaviani’s icy tone grew even icier. “Go on!” he demanded.
“I mean, we did not provide the materials.” Benuit’s words were coming out as squeaks as his throat became dry.
“I want to know everything, and now! Do not lie to me,” he warned.
“I only did what I was told,” mumbled Benuit, looking down at the floor.
“Told by whom? What were you told?” Kaviani’s voice rising in anger.
“By Ayatollah Javadi…he said he would tell you when the time was right.”
“By Allah, TELL ME WHAT?!”
“We uhmm…we built those bombs, said Benuit tearfully.
Kaviani closed his eyes for a moment and then flew into a rage. “GO ON, TELL ME EVERYTHING! NOW!”
“We built them using materials we received from Pakistan several years ago. It was excess material they had in storage and it was already mostly machined.”
Kaviani stood part way up, grabbed the scientist by his lapels and shook him. “You kept this from me!” It took every bit of self-control he could muster to keep from strangling the scientist with his bare hands. “Who else was involved? You didn’t do this by yourself!” he thundered.
“General Namazi coordinated the project along with Ayatollah Javadi.”
“Are there any more bombs?”
Benuit shook his head and began to sob.
“Do you know what you have done?”
Benuit nodded weakly.
Kaviani called for his security detail. “Take him away, interrogate him…you will give us every name of every person involved and every detail. Do you understand?”
A teary-eyed Benuit again nodded.
“Damn Javadi, damn him.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Flight Captain Abul Rasid and his Radar Intercept Officer, or RIO, Lieutenant Omar Paria walked from their rooms in the barracks to the dining hall at Iran’s Shiraz Air Force Base. The base had been bombed, but the runway was repaired just enough to be useable. The F-14 they would fly today’s mission in, was older than either of them and in need of repair. Parts were very hard to come by due to U.S. embargos and they often had to take their fighter up with less than one-hundred percent operational systems.
“We will bring glory to Allah and to the revolution today,” Rasid proudly announced.
“Yes, we will destroy the aggressors,” Paria replied, as they entered the hall. They got their food and then sat down and ate breakfast quietly. Each of them was thinking about how they would perform their duties when they confronted the U.S. and NATO forces which were being assembled against them.
“We better be on our way, lieutenant, the major does not allow tardiness,” said Rasid.
“Yes,” agreed Paria, nodding. They left and walked the one-hundred meters to the flight operations center. There, the unit operations officer was waiting for them as they entered the briefing room. An air force major, tall and with a slightly greying beard, his uniform was neatly pressed. He stood looking at a large wall map of Iran and the Persian Gulf area. The map was faded from years of use and was dotted with colored push pins from people marking where they had been at one time or another. ‘Tehran’ was almost unreadable on the map from people putting their fingers on that spot.
The major turned from the map as the two officers entered. “Good morning, Praise Allah,” he said.
“Praise be to Allah” Rasid replied. Paria just smiled weakly.
The major went over the weather, then gave them their flight orders and a briefing for their mission.
“You will be the only crew going out this morning,” he informed them. “We are waiting on parts for the other aircraft.” Both men nodded their understanding; crippling parts shortages were the norm. “Our technology and weapons are not as new as what the U.S and NATO has, but deployed properly can be very effective. I am confident you will both make Iran proud.”
“We will defend our homeland,” responded Rasid, confidently.
The major nodded and pointed to an area on the map. “You are to patrol north, here along the Gulf coast and look for targets of opportunity. Remain under the safety of our surface to air missile umbrella as long as possible,” he instructed. “You may attack any U.S. or NATO naval vessel you see, or any oil tanker, of course, not one of ours.” The two officers chuckled. “We have armed your aircraft with one of our newest Fakour-90 missiles. We would normally load more, but their air attacks have made that impossible.”
“We will do our duty,” a stern-faced Rasid proclaimed.
“Go preflight your aircraft, and good luck to both of you.” They turned and left. Both knew their F-14 was one of the few still in flyable condition. The rest were either grounded for lack of parts or had been destroyed by the intense allied airstrikes.
* * * *
Situated deep beneath a five-story government office building in Tehran is Iran’s central command and control center. Built to house the Iranian leadership in the event of war
, it was constructed to withstand all but the largest bunker-buster bombs or a hit from a nuclear weapon. The intense U.S. ‘Shock and Awe’ aerial bombardment campaign at the start of the Iraqi invasion, was not lost on the Iranian leadership. Knowing the facility would be a high priority target, it was well hidden. Entrances to the building above and on into the complex, were through an underground parking garage, eliminating the possibility that spy satellites would be able to see who came and went. There were no antennas nor satellite dishes on the roof which might betray what lay beneath. Great care was taken to use unmarked vehicles and to avoid having multiple vehicles arriving and departing at the same time. Three other buildings located nearby would serve as decoys, their roofs bristling with antennas. The people who worked in those buildings had been told nothing of this. The first volley of cruise missiles had reduced all three buildings to rubble. Hidden well below, the command center’s communications room was outfitted with secure radios, computers, routers and wall monitors. Back-up generators kept the power going.
Arachi walked up to Kaviani and pointed up at a monitor. “Ayatollah Kaviani, our forces are victorious in Lebanon and Syria, and soon…Allah willing, they will be in Jerusalem!”
Kaviani nodded slowly, staring expressionlessly at the screen. “Yes, soon Jerusalem, my friend.”
“There will be regime change…but it will be in America!” Arachi added, smiling.
Iranian Air Force Commanding General Harim was seated nearby at a console. “The U.S. and their allies have done a lot of damage,” he admitted. “They believe they are well on their way to concluding successful air operations against us having destroyed most of our weapon systems…but we have kept many assets hidden and have surprises for them.”
“I am confident general,” Kaviani replied. He got up and asked Arachi to sit with him at table on the other side of the room. “Ayatollah Arachi, I have some very distressing information to share with you about those two bombs.”