The Saudi-Iranian War

by Ted Halstead

  Vahid smiled grimly as he recognized another of Reza’s allies.

  “Play the second video,” Vahid said to the technician.

  The next video showed a gruesome closeup of a victim of a missile’s premature explosion with a VX warhead in Yemen, due to a Saudi tank shell.

  The voiceover explained that the Houthis sent to discover what had happened to the missile died themselves not long after taking the footage.

  The next view was shot by a drone over the site of the explosion, showing multiple contorted bodies far away from the blast site.

  “We all know that the Houthis have only one source for these missiles and the warheads they carry. Us.”

  Vahid said into an even deeper silence, “This is not the end of Fagheh’s crimes. Here is more.” He simply nodded to the technician.

  A distant view of a mushroom cloud on the Saudi coast was quickly replaced by the view from a drone sent over the blast site. It showed the desalination plant had been utterly destroyed.

  Now even the faces of Fagheh’s allies showed nothing but shock.

  “This is the view from one of our own drones, which I had sent by the Iranian Air Force. This used to be one of the largest desalination plants in the world. We are responsible for the death of everyone in or near this plant.

  Their only crime was producing fresh drinking water! That is how we decided to use one of our nuclear weapons.”

  Into the echoing silence Vahid said, “But an even greater crime was planned,” and nodded once again to the technician.

  Another mushroom cloud appeared, this one closer to the camera and in the desert. The voiceover from the person who had uploaded it to the Internet said that though it had exploded far enough from Riyadh that they believed they were safe from fallout, all power had been cut. The voiceover continued that he had to drive to Jeddah to get online to distribute the video, because all cell phone and Internet service in Riyadh was down as well.

  Now it was Vahid’s turn to shout. “Can you imagine what would have happened if that bomb had made it to Riyadh? Thousands, even millions may have died. And the deaths would not stop in Saudi Arabia. Does anyone believe that their American allies would let such an act go unpunished?”

  No one had anything to say.

  Vahid continued, “But as evil as that crime was, for me using chemical weapons was even worse. A foolish man might claim ignorance of what a nuclear weapon could do. We all know what chemical weapons can do. Some of you in this room have lost sons to the Iraqi criminals who used them against us,” he said, looking directly at several Ayatollahs.

  They were not the only ones to squirm uncomfortably.

  “But even this was not enough for Fagheh. No, he has sent Pasdaran troops without authorization marching to Riyadh. And he has enlisted the Qataris in his schemes, so they have sent their tanks to Riyadh too. Did he get authorization from any of you, or the Consultative Assembly before he did any of this? No, he did not.”

  Vahid nodded one final time at the technician, who put up a screen grab of the moment that the Supreme Leader was shot by the Pasdaran soldier.

  “Ask yourself this question. Do you doubt for one second that the man who gave this assassin his orders was Reza Fagheh? Then ask, who gave the order for you to be moved from this building, and for everything I have shown to be concealed from you? Finally, if you didn’t do exactly what Reza Fagheh told you, including electing him as the new Supreme Leader, do you think a man who did everything I have shown you would hesitate for one second to have all of you shot?”

  Vahid glared out into the silence. Not one Ayatollah was willing to respond.

  “So, how can we stop this madman? And once we do, how can we avoid having our wives and children being made to pay for his crimes? There are many in America who have been waiting for a long time to strike us down, and this criminal has given them the perfect excuse.”

  Vahid paused and looked out at the Assembly. “If you are all willing to trust me, I can lead us out of this disaster, and to a better future. Here is my plan…”

  Doha, Qatar

  Guardian Colonel Bijan Turani scowled as once again he was unable to reach the Acting Supreme Leader’s office. He had been ordered to wait with his artillery unit in Doha in case pressure needed to be applied to Qatar’s Emir, but he had never thought that part of the plan made any sense. Anyone with military experience would know that his howitzers could be easily overrun by infantry within minutes, and at best would manage to fire one or two rounds.

  No, Reza Fagheh was far from infallible, even if he was Acting Supreme Leader. And now he also appeared to be unreachable.

  Bijan made his decision. He had been worried that the men he’d detailed to deal with the Ayatollahs at the Assembly of Experts, as well as the hospitalized Supreme Leader, would not prove up to the task. While Bijan was leading the attack on the Saudi force blockading Qatar he’d had no choice, since he couldn’t be in several places at once. Now, though, all he had to do was disobey orders. Orders he had never agreed with in the first place.

  A quick check confirmed that there were three nonstop flights per day from Doha to Tehran, and each one took less than two hours to reach Tehran. That settled it, since even if Reza ordered him back to Doha he’d only have been away for a matter of hours. Plus, whatever the explanation was for his failure to reach Reza, it certainly served as a reasonable rationale for at least a temporary return.

  It was nearly ten at night when the flight from Doha arrived in Tehran. As soon as he left the jetway, he saw a squad of Iranian Army soldiers.

  None of them were smiling.

  Their commander strode forward as soon as he saw Bijan. “Guardian Colonel Bijan Turani,” he said, more as a statement than a question. The other soldiers quickly surrounded him, and before he knew what was happening he’d been spun around, and he felt handcuffs being slapped on his wrists.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Bijan roared with outrage. “I am a special advisor to Acting Supreme Leader Fagheh, and demand that you contact his office at once!”

  In response, the squad’s commander slapped him hard on his right cheek.

  Stunned rather than hurt, Bijan stared at him speechlessly.

  The commander said, “The criminal Fagheh is already in custody. You will be tried for your role in the assassination of the Supreme Leader later this evening.”

  Then the commander nodded to his deputy, and soldiers on each side of Bijan began to march him to the airport exit. Bijan noticed that the few other people visible not only gave all of them a wide berth, no one even looked in their direction.

  For maybe the first time in his military career, Bijan sincerely wished he had shown no initiative, and had simply followed orders.

  Evin Prison, Tehran, Iran

  Grand Ayatollah Sayyid Vahid Turani strode down the prison corridor with the air of a man having a great deal to do. He did; this task was one he did from a sense of duty, not pleasure.

  That’s not what the man on the other side of the bars thought. “Ah, come here to gloat, have you? I always knew you were a small and petty man.”

  Reza Fagheh had been stripped of his Grand Ayatollah title, but carried himself as though he were still Acting Supreme Leader.

  Well, Vahid thought, that will end soon enough.

  “No, I am here to inform you of the verdict of the Assembly of Experts, which has tried you for your many crimes. You have been found guilty. The sentence is death.”

  Reza shrugged. “Once you had regular Army troops drag me from my office and throw me in here, it was pretty obvious what you were up to. Well, you may find that keeping me in this hole won’t be as easy as putting me here.”

  Vahid nodded. “You are speaking of your allies in the Pasdaran, such as Guardian Colonel Bijan Turani. He is in a cell not far from yours. The Pasdaran and Basij have been disbanded. Some will be offered positions in the military. Others will not.”

  Now Reza looked much less assured. “Yes, a
nd I’m sure they’ll all meekly accept that decision,” he said, trying to put as much confidence in his voice as he could.

  Vahid shrugged and said, “We’ll see. Or more precisely, I will.”

  Reza’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean? What day is my execution scheduled?”

  Vahid looked at Reza calmly. “Today. In one hour.”

  Now Reza looked at Vahid in shock. “One hour? That’s ridiculous! I have the right of appeal!”

  Vahid shook his head. “An ordinary criminal does. But you’re not one of those, you’re a mass murderer. And you’ve already been tried by our highest authority, the Assembly of Experts, and your sentence has been confirmed by the Supreme Leader.”

  Reza stared at Vahid wild-eyed. “The Supreme Leader? Who is he?”

  Vahid cocked his head, and waited for realization to dawn.

  Reza’s breath hissed between his teeth. “You… You can’t do this! Our troops will make it to Riyadh! We can overthrow the Saudis! You’re throwing away a great future for our country!”

  Vahid just smiled sadly, and shook his head.

  “Your plan was always insane, Reza. It’s time for the rest of us to deal with the consequences of your madness.”

  Vahid started to walk away, and then turned. “And it is time for you to meet the final judgment, that sooner or later comes to us all.”

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Five Kilometers East of Highway 522 and Highway 80 Intersection, 120 Kilometers East of Riyadh

  As he sat in the cupola of his M1A2 tank with the rest of the force moving to intercept the Qataris, Prince Ali bin Sultan played back the argument he’d had with the Crown Prince in his head and tried to imagine how he could have convinced him. Ali had argued for another air strike against the Qataris, who had already had their two hundred Leopards thinned out considerably by both the American cluster bomb attack and the RSAF’s Hellfires. Another round of Hellfires, in Ali’s view, might well have inflicted enough damage to make the Qataris turn back.

  The Crown Prince had vetoed that plan, noting first that they needed air assets to be available in case the northern invaders made it past the relatively weaker force commanded by Jamal Al-Qahtani sent to oppose them, especially if during the battle Jamal’s forces were successful in destroying their anti-air missile launcher. He also pointed out that some of the Qatari tanks would probably survive, and might make it to Riyadh. That was a risk they simply couldn’t take.

  Ali thought the bigger risk was splitting his armor so that his deputy commander would have to attack the cloaked force coming from the north with fewer tanks than he probably needed for victory. The Crown Prince countered that Ali could swing north once the Qataris were defeated and finish off any northern invaders still left, plus the tanks on their way back from Yemen would be in Riyadh soon.

  Ali pointed out that nothing guaranteed the northern force would stick to its previous slow pace, and that both his force and the tanks from Yemen quite simply might not get back in time. He didn’t say that his force could also be defeated by the Qataris, because he never thought for a minute that was possible.

  The Crown Prince had then explained that the surviving strike aircraft had to be refueled and rearmed, and that would take as much time as driving his already prepared tanks to meet the enemy. Besides, he’d added tartly, “you won’t have to drive far.”

  What the Crown Prince didn’t tell Ali was that he’d been shocked by the losses the QEAF had inflicted on the RSAF, and didn’t want to send out its pilots again so soon. It was unfortunate for Ali that Khaled bin Fahd wasn’t still alive, since he would have insisted on pressing home the air attack against the Qatari armored force. Khaled would have also known that his pilots weren’t asking for rest, and instead wanted nothing more than to strike back against the country that had cut short the lives of so many of their friends.

  Ali’s tanks were loaded with the 120 mm APFSDS-T M829A2 round. It was two generations behind the rounds used by American M1A2s, having been introduced in 1994. Against Houthi forces this had not been an issue.

  Against the Qataris’ Leopard 2, Ali feared it would be.

  It certainly was an improvement over the M829A1. A classified manufacturing process improved the structural quality of the depleted uranium penetrator and there were new composites for the sabot and a new propellant, which all added up to improved penetrator performance.

  Combined, these features increased the muzzle velocity of the M829A2 by 100 m/sec to 1,675 m/sec.

  By contrast, the Qataris’ Leopard 2s fired the DM-53 round. It featured a temperature-independent propulsion system (TIPS) which improved accuracy, particularly in the face of the wide temperature ranges often found on the Arabian Peninsula.

  Which would be more effective? Since M1A2s had never faced off against Leopard 2s, they were about to find out.

  The Saudis weren’t blind to the Leopard’s advantages. They had tried to buy Leopards since the Leopard 1 was introduced in the 1980s, but been stymied by European concerns over its human rights record. Initially successful at obtaining German approval for an order of two hundred Leopard 2s, Saudi military intervention in Bahrain in 2011 and renewed concern over human rights led to the order’s cancellation.

  After the American’s drone attack and their own air strikes with Mavericks all Ali knew for sure was that the Qataris no longer had two hundred Leopards. Just how many was anyone’s guess, especially because an unknown number were outfitted with that cursed camouflage netting, this time one that had apparently been made by a European company specifically for the Leopard 2 tank. At least, none of the Qataris' other vehicles had it.

  Ali had many advantages, though. Even in the unlikely event that the Leopards abandoned the highway and struck out cross-country, he knew their destination. Not only was the capital the obvious target, but the Qataris’ route since crossing the border also pointed like an arrow straight at Riyadh.

  Bolstering this edge was the unexpected addition of an American Reaper drone, which for now Ali was using strictly for reconnaissance. Camouflage might help conceal some of their numbers, but it didn’t stop him from knowing where the bulk of the Qatari force was located, and their heading.

  These advantages paled, though, in the face of what Ali could do now that destruction of the two Qatari S-300s had been confirmed. They were finally going to be able to deploy their Apache attack helicopters. Though Ali knew the Qataris must have other anti-air assets, he doubted they could cope with all eight Apaches he had for this battle.

  The good news was that these eight Apaches had just been upgraded to the latest AH-64E standard, that the Americans called “Guardian” in place of the earlier “Longbow.” It featured multiple improvements including a more powerful engine, new composite rotor blades giving it increased speed, climb rate and payload capacity, and improved radar.

  The bad news was that many of their existing Apaches were still being upgraded in Arizona, and the ones they had most recently purchased hadn’t yet been manufactured. With some Apaches yet to return from Yemen, he’d only been able to spare five for the force that would attack the northern invaders. Ali thought about the S-300 they would be facing, and said a silent prayer for their pilots.

  The news was also mixed for the nearly one hundred Bradley APCs Ali had available for this battle. On the one hand they were plentiful, since none had been sent back to America for refurbishment like the Apaches. On the other, they were still the M2A2 model, two upgrades behind the Americans.

  Its TOW II anti-tank missile would almost certainly fail to penetrate a Leopard’s frontal armor but a flanking hit might damage it, or at least knock off its treads. It was also still a match for the Qataris’ APC, the Mowag Piranha.

  Knowing where the Qataris were and where they were headed allowed Ali to deploy his Abrams tanks, Bradley APCs and Apache helicopters to maximum effect. Ali planned to hit the Qatari force both directly and on each flank, with the aim of bringing overwhelming firepower to be
ar. Any vehicle without camouflage would be engaged first, simply because they would be far easier to target. Then, Ali would deal with the camouflaged survivors.

  The terrain Ali had picked for this battle was no accident. There was a slight rise in elevation to the front and on both sides which Ali would use to conceal his forces. The Apaches would also be able to use their distinctive top-mounted radomes to obtain a lock on non-camouflaged Leopards before their targets even knew they were there.

  To lure the Qataris into the range of his M1A2s’ cannons, Ali had ordered that the Qataris’ Fennek armored reconnaissance vehicles were to be allowed to move forward untouched. Though Ali knew he risked having his ambush spotted, he thought they had a good chance of keeping the Qataris moving forward until it was too late to escape.

  Ali’s goal was not simply the defeat of the Qatari force. It was to destroy it, and do so quickly enough that he could hurry north to relieve the weaker force that had been sent against the northern invaders. No matter what the Crown Prince thought, Ali believed they still had a good chance of pushing through to Riyadh.

  Once the Reaper operator informed Ali that the Leopards were coming into range, he ordered the operator to engage them with his entire payload of four AGM-114 Hellfire missiles and two 500 lb. GBU-12 Paveway II laser-guided bombs. No sooner had he given that order than he had his eight Apaches each fire a Hellfire against their locked targets.

  Within seconds, dozens of 120 mm M829A2 rounds fired by Ali’s M1A2 tanks were headed towards the Leopard 2s as well. Many of the Leopards deployed smoke and attempted to evade the incoming fire, while others immediately fired back at Ali’s tanks.

  Almost at once Ali began receiving damage reports, and could see with his own eyes Abrams tanks that were destroyed by a single Leopard round. He winced when one M1A2 tank on his left flank exploded with a violence that told him some of its internal store of munitions had been detonated by a Leopard round, but refused to let it distract him from his battle plan.

  Ali had put his M2A2 Bradleys on the flanks, and now ordered them to fire their TOW II missiles against any target where they could get a lock. Because their TOW II missiles were wire-guided, Ali knew the Bradleys were going to be some of his most exposed crews against the Qatari force. Unlike the Apaches with their “fire and forget” Hellfire missiles, the Bradleys couldn’t quickly pop into and out of the fight. They had to remain in visual contact with their target until the moment of impact.