INTELLIGENCE FAILURE

by Jon Sedran

  “We are contemplating a strategic withdrawal,” the commander told him in a somber voice, adding, “Our forces in the Golan Heights have been turned back.”

  Marid nodded.

  “The Israeli and Jordanian Air Forces combined with American carrier-based planes and drones were too much. Somehow, they defeated our air defense umbrella and rained bombs and cruise missiles down on our heroic forces,” they martyred a great many,” the commander lamented.

  “Too bad,” said Marid, adding, “But we still inflicted many casualties on the enemy.”

  The commander kicked some dirt up with his boot. “Tehran is afraid of an invasion by the Americans and will not send us any more troops. I will have to report our setback,” he said as he turned and walked away.

  * * * *

  Yet another thunderous explosion shook the main government building in Tehran as an American bunker-buster weapon scored a direct hit. Massoud was slowly making his way down the stairs to the lower underground level and was sent tumbling by the shock wave. He covered his head as debris fell on him. The lights went out, then after a short delay came back on. He was not seriously injured and managed to get back up. Brushing himself off, he stepped over some broken concrete and finally made his way into the room to face Kaviani. He was sitting at a darkened console covered with small pieces of cement and dust. Massoud stood and looked around the room. Three of the large wall monitors had fallen to the floor and the remaining ones were all dark. There were almost no communications systems left in operation.

  “Ayatollah Kaviani, you must ask the Americans for a ceasefire before there is nothing left of our country,” Massoud pleaded.

  “You ask for one…I will not.” Kaviani replied defiantly, not even looking at him. Then he added, “This was all Javadi’s fault.”

  “Ayatollah Kaviani, I will do it…and then I am going to resign,” Massoud announced. “But first I am going to call King Haddad of Jordan and Israeli Prime Minister Klein.”

  Kaviani waved him away. “Do what you wish,” he said, looking down at the floor. President Massoud shook his head, turned and walked out.

  * * * *

  The Saudi king and ruling family members were meeting in the partially destroyed palace to attempt to learn from their military and intelligence chiefs how much damage had been done to their kingdom.

  “The palace was hit four times,” said Prince Salib, using his foot to push away debris which had fallen from the ceiling. “We warned the world of Iran’s intentions, but nobody would listen.”

  “Our refineries are all burning,” said a grim-faced Oil Minister, adding, “As are our off shore transfer stations and numerous wells, pumping stations, and pipelines." Our production will be no more than a trickle for months.”

  “Our forces successfully intercepted Iranian commandos at three strategic locations, or the damage would have been even worse,” reported the Chief of Saudi Intelligence.

  “Twenty-one of our F-15 fighters and two AWACs planes were destroyed on the ground in that massive missile barrage on Prince Sultan Airbase,” added Salib.

  “The Americans and Europeans will foot the bill for our rebuilding with very high oil prices for a very long time,” said King Basir. The others nodded in agreement.

  “We know the Iranian oil production infrastructure has been heavily damaged, as well,” said Salib.

  “This was all avoidable,” lamented Basir, as he got up, totally disgusted, and walked off.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Iranian President Massoud had directed that a framework for a ceasefire be established through the U.N. He reviewed some of the details on his laptop and then went and sat down in a quiet area of the underground command center to compose his thoughts. He was determined to make two very difficult phone calls. One of which he knew, if successful, would make history. “Allah, I ask your forgiveness,” he said to himself as he put down some notes on the tablet. He was glad he was fluent in both English and Arabic. After an hour he got up and went into the badly damaged communications center.

  “Is anything still working?” he asked a technician sitting at a console.

  “Yes, but not much,” the technician answered, barely looking up.

  “Do we have any way to connect to the Israeli leadership in Tel Aviv?” Massoud asked. The technician looked up somewhat shocked.

  “Perhaps,” he replied tentatively, adding, “But I don’t know what the phone number is.”

  “Okay, please see what you can do. But first, I need you to connect me with the Jordanian royal palace in Amman. I need to speak directly to King Haddad. Tell the king it is most urgent…can you speak Arabic?” he asked.

  “Yes some,” he replied, as he began to press keys on a keypad while watching a monitor. Massoud sat watching and thinking. These will be the most incredible difficult calls of my life.

  After a few tries the technician managed to get through to an operator in the basement of the Jordanian Royal Palace, where the country’s leaders had taken refuge. “I have President Massoud here. He wishes to speak to King Haddad. It is most urgent.”

  The surprised operator hesitated, finally getting out, “Okay, please hold.” He turned around. “Excuse me, but I have Iranian President Massoud waiting to speak to the king,” he announced to one of the king’s associates sitting nearby. The king overheard what the man had said and looked over at his advisor.

  “King Haddad, the Iranian President is on the line. Do you want to take the call?” the operator asked again.

  Haddad again looked over at his advisor, who nodded.

  The Iranian communications technician connected the call to the phone sitting in front of Moussad, then set about to figure how to call the Israeli leadership next.

  The voice on the phone answered, “King Haddad here.”

  “King Haddad, this is President Massoud,” he said, continuing, “No words I can say will be sufficient to apologize for the heinous attacks on Amman and Haifa. The most I can do is to try to explain who did it, why and how.” For the next fifteen minutes the king listened as Massoud went through all the details. The king asked few questions. Massoud ended the call with assurances that full reparations would be paid to the victims.

  “I appreciate your candidness. It is somewhat refreshing,” said the king. Then he hung up.

  * * * *

  At the Pentagon the Joint Chiefs were finishing up a briefing for the Chairman, on the latest battle damage assessments, or BDA’s, when they heard the news, the Iranians were ready to discuss a ceasefire.

  “We appear to have been very successful in every area,” summarized Bingham, looking around the table. They don’t appear to have much left.” The others nodded, and Bingham continued. “They may still have a few high-value targets hidden, but not many. Their oil facilities have been severely damaged and production will be near-zero for months. I do feel we need to get boots on the ground if we want to be certain of finding that nuke weapons assembly site. We have been unable to pinpoint the location so far.” He paused, and then went on, “Unfortunately, so far the politicians want to let the IEAE inspectors look for it.”

  “Part of any ceasefire deal should be allowing our military forces to enter Iran and search for WMD,” suggested one of the chiefs.

  “They cannot be allowed to re-arm,” said the Army Chief of Staff.

  “They effectively have no more air force,” reported the Air Force Chief of Staff.

  Bingham sat back in his chair. “It’s the damn nukes; how many more do they have?” he asked. “They came within minutes of starting World War III. He stopped and looked down at some notes. “Thank you all for the briefing. Let’s start thinking about winding down our kinetic operations.”

  * * * *

  In the Israeli command center the proposed terms of a ceasefire had just been delivered to the Prime Minister. As he sat reviewing it, a communications specialist received a surprising call. Not sure how to handle it, he had contacted his superiors, who in t
urn contacted a deputy minister standing nearby. The minister stopped what he was doing and picked up the phone. “Who is this,” he asked in English without identifying himself.

  In broken English the voice said, “I am a communications technician in the government complex in Tehran. President Massoud wishes to speak to your Prime Minister. He says it is most urgent.” The minister covered the mouthpiece and asked,” Is this real?”

  “I cannot tell for sure, but the communications link is unusual; I have not seen it before,” replied the specialist, looking at his monitor. The minister thought for a moments, then told the voice on the phone, “Please wait, I will contact the Prime Minster.”

  “Yes, please,” was the reply.

  The minister walked over to Klein. “Mr. Prime Minister, there is a call on one of the unsecure lines,” he announced hesitatingly. “The person on the phone says that Iranian President Massoud wishes to speak with you about an urgent matter.” Klein looked over at Defense Minister Dayan who looked up from a report but said nothing.

  Klein hesitated for a few moments, tapping his pencil on the desk, then slowly walked over and answered the phone. “Prime Minister Klein here,” he said in English. There was a short delay, and then the voice on the other end announced in English, “Mister Prime Minister, this is President Massoud. I hope you will please hear me out.”

  Klein glanced around the room. “I’m listening,” he responded.

  “Things have happened, terrible things, which should never have happened,” Massoud said, adding, “Madmen did this. They did this in secret.” He went on to explain in detail the events and players, answering questions as he went. Finally, he stated, “There will be compensation paid to Israeli and Jordanian victims. I am Iran’s President, so I fully accept responsibility for this tragedy.”

  “Where do we go from here?” asked Klein, somewhat stunned and yet uncertain of what to make of the call.

  “We cannot allow this to escalate any further,” said Massoud. “Innocent people are dying.”

  “We did not start this,” Klein reminded him.

  “Yes, I understand. You should know I am resigning. I wish to become an emissary for peace.”

  “And the ayatollahs and the others who want to see us all dead, what about them?” asked Klein.

  “The U.N. will oversee new elections in our country,” said Massoud. “And it will be a very long time before our country can threaten any country again…of this I am quite certain. The damage to our military, our infrastructure and oil production facilities...is enormous. The IAEA inspectors will have a permanent presence and will leave no stone unturned.” He paused, and then added, “I know there are many in my country that would be willing to normalize relations with you.”

  “And what do you want us to do?” asked Kline.

  “I have an idea Mister Prime Minister,” offered Massoud. “I will travel the Middle East and work toward peaceful resolutions of issues. Perhaps I could work with both Israel and the Palestinians to help solve some of the region’s problems?”

  “We have always been willing to seek a peaceful co-existence with the Palestinians. We do not call for them to be wiped off the face of the earth, as others do of us.”

  “Then I will make it my life’s goal to find a peaceful way forward for the Israelis and the Palestinian people.”

  “I will let everyone here know,” said Klein. He hesitated, and then said, “I thank you for having the courage to make this call. I fear it will not play well in Tehran.”

  “That is a risk I am willing to take. I remain hopeful.”

  “I am trying to be hopeful too, goodbye.”

  “Goodbye, I will keep in touch.”

  * * * *

  “Mr. President, King Basir of Saudi Arabia on the line,” announced Kragen sitting with the President and his National Security Advisor in the Oval Office.

  Alby looked down at his laptop screen and sighed. “Mr. President it looks like Saudi oil facilities have been hit hard,” he said, adding, “Reports indicate large fires at their main storage facility.”

  The President listened, hesitated momentarily, and then picked up the phone. “President Acosta,” he announced.

  “Mr. President, I realize this is not the time for “I told you so,” said Basir.

  “I understand how you feel,” replied Acosta.

  “Our oil facilities are burning brightly,” said Basir.

  “Theirs are too,” replied Acosta.

  “That makes me feel better,” replied Basir.

  “We need to stick together on this and see it through,” said Acosta, adding, “The Iranians are proposing a cease fire, I will have Nancy fill you in on the details shortly.” Basir hung up.

  Acosta sighed. “That didn’t go well,” he said.

  “Mister President, Israeli Prime Minister Klein on secure line three,” announced the President’s receptionist.

  “Hello, Mr. Prime Minister,” said Acosta, picking up the call. “I understand our military equipment and supplies have arrived and you are getting all the assistance you require?”

  “Yes, thank you,” said Klein. “Mr. President, as you requested the Knesset has agreed in principle to hold off on any counterstrike until your forces have had a chance to complete all offensive operations against Iran. Of course, if we are hit again, we will immediately hit back…and you understand, this time we will use all our weapons.”

  “Thank you,” replied Acosta, brushing off the threatening language and re-directing the conversation. “The Iranians are pushing for a ceasefire. The Russians have agreed in principle to moving toward regime change, so long as we do not launch a ground invasion,” said Acosta.

  “Do you think regime change is possible?” Klein asked, warily.

  “Yes, and the U.N. resolution, passed unanimously, condemning Iran for their part in the unprovoked attacks on Israel and Jordan, will be enforced with the full participation of the United States, Russia and China. This, and one-hundred percent IAEA inspections, will ensure Iran will not be able to build another bomb ever.”

  “I am not completely convinced,” said Klein. “I’m sure you would feel the same way in my shoes.”

  “The resolution goes so far as to authorize all measures necessary to secure Iran’s nuclear materials,” added Acosta, doing his best to sell the agreement. “We have been hitting them around the clock. Even Pakistan joined in hitting a few targets in the east. I guess Pakistani leadership was anxious to redeem themselves for allowing their nuclear materials to be transferred to Iran. And the Indian navy is enforcing a blockade of Iran’s Indian Ocean coastline. We estimate they will be forced to capitulate in less than two weeks.”

  * * * *

  At the U.N, diplomats scrambled to try to piece together a ceasefire deal that would end the conflict and also find a lasting comprehensive solution to the nagging Israeli-Palestinian issues.

  “Iran must be completely disarmed,” demanded the Israeli ambassador speaking before the General Assembly.

  “That is ridiculous,” countered the Iranian ambassador. “Iran did not attack your country; this was the work of a few demented individuals.”

  An angry Jordanian ambassador quickly stood up, “Amman is in ruins and you deny any responsibility?” he yelled. At that, the Iranian ambassador threw his arms up and shook his head in disgust.

  For several hours the back and forth went on. The U.N. secretary trying to maintain order, as diplomats repeatedly walked out on each other’s speeches. “Please,” he begged the participants, “For mankinds’ sake, we cannot allow these horrific events to turn into a major nuclear war.”

  The U.N. Security Council convened in several urgent sessions to try to find a way to move forward. The U.S. ambassador repeatedly insisting Iran was fully culpable in these horrific events and could never again be allowed to have more than a token military force.

  Working behind the scenes with Russia’s and China’s top diplomats, the Secretary of State was able
to piece together a framework to move the peace process forward. Over a period of days and after several failed attempts, a ceasefire began to take hold. The allied forces agreed to begin winding down kinetic operations. All parties agreed to work until a comprehensive peace agreement for the entire region could be put into place.

  * * * *

  At DIA headquarters there was a feeling of relief. It now appeared that a light at the end of a very dark tunnel was coming into view. Details of a ceasefire were being hammered out at the U.N. and would likely soon go into effect.

  Lowe had asked Maddy to come to his office. She knocked lightly then entered.

  Maddy smiled confidently as she walked up to the general’s desk. “General, it seems we were the only intelligence agency to get it right on Iran’s nukes,” she proclaimed.

  Lowe nodded weakly. “Maddy, please sit down. I wanted you to be the first to hear this,” he said, biting his lip. He sat silently for a few moments. “I’ve been relieved of command.”

  “What?...Why?…We got it right!” she exclaimed, adding, “They just wouldn’t listen,” Tears welled up in her eyes.

  “Politics Maddy…it’s all being called an intelligence failure.”

  Maddy was at a loss for words. “I’m…I’m very sorry to hear this general…it isn’t fair.” she said wiping a tear from her eye.

  “Well Maddy, I can work on my golf game now,” he replied, feigning a smile. “I should have been more convincing presenting your analysis. We all should have listened to you. You were right on.”

  “You did listen general. But those two nukes and the attacks; they were a surprise to everyone…apparently even to Ayatollah Kaviani and President Massoud.”