by Tom Haase
He crawled to within about fifty meters of the abandoned derrick. There remained one more dune between him and the two terrorists. He decided that if he could get over this hill he could get on their blind spot, providing him with an unobstructed view of what they were doing. He used binoculars for a few moments to observe the activity at the oil well. One man was lowering cables into the derrick’s cavity. Matt assumed the load on the end of the cable held the atomic weapon. The other man laid wires back from the hole to a small shed next to their parked vehicle.
Matt put his binoculars down and started to crawl over the crest of the hill. As he did this, he failed to see the one who had finished lowering the cables, had turned around and at that moment had picked up a reflection from his binoculars. As he rolled over the top of the hill, he heard the crack of a weapon. A bullet hit him on his right side. The bullet threw him back, and he rolled to the bottom of the hill. Damn, he didn’t know they could shoot that good.
The pain raced through his chest. The bullet had knocked the wind out of his lungs, and he was lying still, facedown. He heard someone approaching. His brain raced to make a decision on what to do, but his body told him not to move. He remained trapped. The pain abated and his breath started to return. Careful not to move his head, he rotated his eyes.
Footsteps approached. The man trotted fast across the sand. He could certainly see Matt lying on the ground with his legs spread out and facedown. The shooter approached to within three feet of his prone body. It was 11:57 a.m. Matt had no way of knowing there were only three minutes until Tewfik al-Hanbali planned to detonate two atomic weapons.
The terrorists standing above raised a pistol and pointed it at Matt’s head.
37
Downtown Ras Tanura
29 OCTOBER – 11:47 A.M.
In the center of the city, the ST-1 members trailed the terrorist vehicle. They had been circling a large grid of city blocks for some time.
“Hey, man,” Lucien said, “you see how the captain and Bridget seem to be getting tight? I mean I’d like to get tight with her.”
“You don’t have a snowball’s chance in hell,” Gary said. “I tried to move on her once and she scared the shit out of me. Said something about another guy took advantage of her and she’d kill the next person who tried. I reckon you could get real dead trying her on. I’m not shitting you. She took me on like a wild tiger. I left on the run.” He finished and pointed at the car they were trailing.
The car approached the tallest buildings in the city. It attempted to park next to one office building. Sergeant Peter O’Leary pulled his vehicle over to a free space at the curb and waited for the targets to make the next move. Peter watched the four terrorists cross the street. They headed for the entrance to the high-rise office building.
“Hey, Sarg, those guys are carrying weapons shoved down their pants. That’s why they are walking with a limp. See,” said Lucien as he pointed.
“He’s right,” Gary said.
“I bet the one guy has the bomb in that container contraption. Let’s go after them. Keep it close and quiet.” Peter opened the door and exited with his pistol tucked behind him under the shirt pulled out over his jeans.
Gary and Lucien took the cases that contained the M-4 automatic rifles. The short stock and minimum length of the barrel allowed them to be stored in a diminutive case. The rifles were loaded and ready for action as soon as they came out of the cases.
The three maintained a slow walk across the street and entered the building. The four terrorists were just entering the elevator. The elevator doors closed before ST-1 could get to it. The lobby had a few people going in and out to the street and this would not be a good place to engage. Peter remembered the lesson from Beirut. “No firefights in public places. Not a good idea,” he said just loud enough for the others to hear.
Peter observed the floor count on the elevator. It stopped on the top floor. He went over to the sign containing the names of the companies in the building and saw there was only one office on the floor where the elevator had stopped.
“We are going to take the elevator to the forty-first floor and then use the stairs to get to the top floor. No weapons until we get into the stairwell. Let’s go,” ordered Peter. He led them to the elevators and pushed the up button.
On exiting the elevator on the forty-first floor, they saw the entrance to a company office space a few feet in front of the elevator doors. Peter looked right and left and saw the stair sign to his right. With a nod of his head he pointed towards the stairs. They made no noise and no one from the office space even looked up to see who emerged from the open elevator doors. The three rushed across the small open lobby, entered the stairwell, and closed the door behind them.
They climbed up to the next landing and stopped. The weapons came out from their concealed places and all three rechecked them for immediate use. Once all gave a confirming nod, they climbed the stairs, tiptoed to the door leading into the top floor, and halted. Peter took a quick glance through the small glass pane.
“There is one guard with a rifle in front of the elevator,” Peter said, in a short whispered breath, as he viewed the area in front of the door. “Lucien, you open the door very quietly ensuring he is looking at the elevator doors and away from this entrance and I’ll take him out. Then you two rush in and take out anything with a weapon in its hands. Any questions?”
Negative shakes of the head came from the other two. Lucien moved against the wall, slid over to the door, and peeked out. He used a small part of the window to view the corridor. After observing the guard for ten seconds, he raised his hand and placed the other one on the door handle. He moved to one side to be out of the line of fire from Peter’s gun, dropped his hand and opened the door in one coordinated movement.
As the door swung open two taps sounded from Peter’s weapon and the guard started to fall to the floor. Peter rushed toward the falling man, grabbed his weapon, and caught him before he slammed into the marble floor. He lowered the dead body and stood up looking around for any sign of movement. There was none.
They regrouped in front of the partition blocking the access to the office. Peter put up his left hand and extended three fingers. They would go on three. He moved his arm up and down and on the third time, they rushed through the opening to the secretary’s space.
Success, they had taken their prey by surprise. The terrorists all looked out of the window, enjoying the view over the city and the port. On hearing the noise behind them, knowing it couldn’t be the hostages, they pulled their weapons up and rapidly swiveled. One started firing before getting turned around. One swirled to his left, swung his rifle over his head attempting to get a bead on the intruders, and started to take aim.
Gary and Lucien had a clear shot at the targets as they attempted to turn, but already had their weapons in firing position. Both fired on automatic before the targets had completed their turns and their futile attempt to bring their weapons into play. Each took rounds to the head. Peter rushed over to get the weapons away from the bodies on the floor. As they completed this, they heard a clicking noise from the door to the director’s office. Someone had locked the door and knew they were here.
It was 11:59 a.m.
38
Matt Higgins
11:57 A.M. – DESERT – SAUDI ARABIA
The cell phone rang in Matt’s vest pocket. That distraction caused the terrorist to hesitate a second before putting an end to Matt’s life. At that moment Matt flipped over, grabbed the extended arm of the terrorist and pulled. The forward momentum of Matt’s lightning fast move plastered the would-be killer into the sand. He heard two shots from a weapon near his ear. His attacker didn’t move. The phone stopped ringing.
He looked up. Bridget held the weapon in her hand after putting the bullets into the man’s head. She had saved his life. She was something. He extended his hand and she grabbed it. Matt pulled himself up with her assistance and he enveloped her in a bear hug.
“Thank you,” he mumbles into her ear and then kissed her on the cheek. She pushed him back and smiled.
Matt bent over to regain his breath. The pain had not left him. He examined himself, running his hands over his chest. The binoculars in his chest pocket were crunched and broken apart. The bullet had impacted on the binoculars and had been deflected away from his body, knocking the breath out of him. The bruise caused by the impact may have cracked a rib, but he lived.
“You’re welcome,” she said still holding his hand. His phone rang again as he again bent over gasping for air. Bridget reached into his pocket and extracted the instrument.
“Yes?” she said.
“Who is this?” queried the voice over the phone.
“Sergeant Donavan.”
“Where is Captain Higgins?”
“He has been shot, but he’s okay as the bullet only knocked the wind out of him. His binos saved him. Who is this?’
“Admiral Kidd. Can Matt talk? If so, put him on.”
She handed the phone to Matt. “It’s Admiral Kidd.”
“Hello, Admiral. We had the head raghead under observation, but I got too close and they fired on me. Lucky to be here. Anyway, Bridget killed the one and saved my life. The other one must think her shots was his buddy putting bullets in me and is now disposing of me. He is still at the derrick and appears to be hooking up the detonator.” Matt used Bridget’s binos to examine the area.
“You take care of that asshole right now. I have another operation going on to assist you, but you have to take him out now. I mean do it and do it immediately. I believe they’re ready to set off the bombs at this moment,” the admiral said and hung up. Matt closed the phone.
“We have to take this other one out now. Where are the ones you were watching?” Matt asked.
“Right where I left them, I suppose. They looked like they were settling in and going to wait on something.”
“You cover me and I’ll go in to get this guy. I can get close if I put on our friend here’s outer garment,” Matt pointed at the body, “He will be absorbed in his project and just give a glimpse to my approach. With any luck he won’t notice anything askew. I think it is worth a shot.”
“You hope. If he moves toward a weapon, I’ll kill him,” Bridget said, as she unslung her rifle.
After donning the dirty headdress and black windbreaker of the dead terrorist, Matt started toward al-Hanbali. The temperature had been rapidly rising as noon approached. A wind had also begun and blew particles of sand into the air.
Matt could see al-Hanbali connecting wires to an old type detonator-plunger. The man glanced towards him and then returned to the task of connecting the wires. It appeared that Matt’s approach had not raised an alarm. Matt, now within ten feet of the man, sprinted to a position to the man's backside.
"Freeze, don't make a move," Matt shouted in Arabic.
The man stopped what he was doing and slowly stood up. He unhurriedly turned towards the voice without raising his hands. Matt pointed a pistol at him and the man’s weapon rested on the hood of the car a good twenty feet away. Matt realized the bastard had not expected anyone to come after him.
"You must be the American who has been dogging me since Beirut," al-Hanbali said with a smile.
"You've got that right. What in the hell are you doing here?" Matt demanded.
"You would never understand. You are a crusader, and I will slay you. If not me, then my brothers." The smile disappeared and the hatred glistened in his eyes.
"Mighty big talk. But the talking is over, and you're coming with us." Matt pointed the weapon at him and then toward the car. “Get moving.” He would take him back to the Center and they would recover the bombs.
As he spoke, the helicopter carrying McDonald and his team approached. The chopper approached a spot about three hundred feet away on a flat area in the sand.
Matt took a step towards Tewfik, keeping his weapon pointed at him. He then saw the man had a cell phone in his right hand. He raised it above his head and said, “Move and I detonate the atomic weapons.” Al-Hanbali flipped open the cell phone.
This ass, or a bastard just like him, had driven the plane into the Pentagon that September day and killed his wife. He knew the man had an atomic weapon and he intended to set it off. This jihadist was his personal enemy. The time had arrived to carry out his orders.
Matt saw evil incarnate looking back at him as Al-Hanbali’s finger pushed a speed dial number.
Matt fired. The bullet entered the chest, turning the man to the left and pushing him backwards. Al-Hanbali seemed to struggle for one or two steps and then he lunged forward. As he fell, he shouted, "I have defeated you, crusader—your country will now die."
His body landed on the plunger.
The ground shook and moved in a wave motion under Matt's feet. Deep within the earth, the weapon had detonated. The explosion spread the enriched uranium into the oil well that potentially contained a large portion of the Saudi reserves. The force of the explosion reached the surface in the form of a mighty rumble, sending a plume of dust shooting into the air. Then the earth opened up and cratered a giant cavern right at the exact spot where the chopper touched down.
The blades of the helicopter hit the sides of the cavern as it sank into the abyss created by the explosion. The sinking chopper became totally engulfed in the hole and when the swirling blades hit the cavern’s side they wrenched the rotor head off the transmission. The explosion engulfed the helicopter in a brilliant yellow fireball.
It was 12:00 noon.
39
Downtown
RAS TANURA – 11:59 A.M.
The three soldiers looked at the door they heard lock. Peter pointed towards it, and all three moved forward, spreading out before reaching it. They pointed their weapons at the lock and opened fire. Their first priority—to get to whoever might have the bomb on the other side of the door—motivated their actions.
The withering fire from the three automatic weapons shattered the door. Pieces of wood flew in all directions and a hole appeared in the center of the frame. They were able to kick the door open. Gary rushed into the room, pointing his weapon at what he thought was a target, and received two bullets into his head.
Peter entered close behind him, his weapon raised. The man who had just killed Gary was diving behind a desk. Pointing his gun at the murderer, Peter opened fire with a three round burst. Two of the rounds split open the man’s back. He flew over and landed behind Mr. Yasir’s desk. Lucien ran over to the terrorist and fired one round into his head.
They looked at their comrade lying on the floor, bleeding on the carpet, and knew nothing they could be done to help him. They turned their attention to the bomb that rested in plain view on top of the executive desk. Peter went to the desk and opened the case to see inside.
A mobile telephone the first thing he saw. “Shit, there is a cell phone in that bomb and it is turned on…five bars on the screen,” Peter said.
"Lucien, I think this is it. Looks like it's hooked up to a telephone to be remotely detonated. I am going to cut the wires. It looks like there are only two wires. So, there’s no guessing on which wire to cut. You go out there and untie the hostages." Peter reached into the case and used his knife to cut the wires. His heart pounded in his ears. He saw his hands shake as the bomb’s wires parted under his knife. Peter sighed, relaxing, the bomb had not exploded. He never looked at his watch.
It was 12:01 p.m. One minute after al-Hanbali had pushed the speed dial number that should have detonated the weapon while his team remained in the building, killing everyone within ten miles, destroying the port, and rendering other unthinkable injuries to people far away from ground zero.
Peter got on his radio and called Captain Higgins. After establishing contact, he reported, "Sir, we’ve neutralized the weapon. We have taken one casualty. All terrorists killed. We’ll release the hostages and will bring the weapon with us.”
“Who?” Matt asked.
“Gary,” Peter replied.
“Bring him and the weapon and get out of there right now. Meet at the airport as we arranged. Out.” Matt had spoken in a rapid cadence.
“Lucien, get Gary out of here and over to the elevator. I’ll finish releasing these people,” Peter said as he accomplished slicing the duct tape. He wanted to move fast. He didn’t want anyone remembering faces or details. He grabbed the container with the weapon and joined Lucien at the elevator. Lucien had Gary’s body in a firefighter’s carry over his shoulder and they took the elevator previously secured by the dead guard.
“There is no way to hide the wounds to Gary’s head. If anyone tries to get on the elevator, I’ll use my weapon to discourage them. When we’re on the ground floor, head for the front door. I’ll be behind you across the lobby and will jump in front to open the door. You get in the back of the car and I’ll help you get him in. I’ll drive. Push the button and let’s hope for the best,” Peter said.
They were lucky. The elevator went to the ground floor without stopping and they hurried out of the building. Once in the car, Peter headed for the airport.
“Goddammit, the bastard killed Gary. We were always late in getting to where these ragheads are every time. I want to kill someone for that,” Lucien shouted.
“Calm down, soldier. We got the weapon and we did our job. Gary is a casualty we couldn’t help. We’ll sort this out when we get home. Now focus on your job and don’t lose it,” Peter said. “We still have to get out of here without detection. So calm down.”
They arrived at the airport in thirty minutes, headed for the small executive aircraft parking area, and parked in the back of a lot with many SUVs, Mercedes and BMWs. Now, they had to wait.