Chapter 84
Jennifer nudged my shoulder, waking me up. I yawned, seeing it was daylight, and said, “Are we on?”
She said, “Yeah. I think it’s showtime.”
I looked at the back of the aircraft cabin, seeing Veep and Aaron on one side, both with laptops on the table in front of
them, and the prime minister of Israel and Amanda Croft on the other side, also with laptops in front of them.
I said, “They didn’t want to wait until we land in the US? The connectivity has got to be shit with all the streaming going
on.”
“The prime minister doesn’t think we have the time. He’s afraid it’s going to leak that he’s been freed and they’re going
to blow that RDD.”
I said, “Well, after what Shoshana did at the airfield, he might have a point.”
Getting out of Argentina clandestinely had proven a little bit of a challenge. Shoshona had landed back at the old airport
and found a couple of police cars on the tarmac. She’d seen four officials, two in uniforms and two in suits, questioning
the manager of the helicopter tour company about the hijacking of her helo.
Astonished at the arrival of the Rock Star Bird, they’d immediately wondered if she had something to do with the other private
jet on the tarmac. The one that had stolen the helicopter.
They started suspiciously questioning her, and with the prime minister and SECSTATE arriving on the stolen helicopter within the next ten minutes, she’d used her judgment to solve the problem, which was to pull out a gun and run the officials into the tour company’s office, outside of view of the airstrip.
She kept them there until Jennifer arrived, flabbergasted at the turn of events.
Jennifer had loaded the PM and SECSTATE on our bird, then waited on the helicopter turnaround. After we arrived, it was my
turn to be flabbergasted. Needless to say, it was most decidedly not how I would have handled the situation, but it served
its purpose. We loaded up on the Rock Star Bird and took off, leaving behind a helicopter pilot with a fantastic story to
tell and a group of bewildered police.
Because of Shoshana’s antics, we determined that landing in Buenos Aires might not be the best solution, instead deciding
to fly the hell out of the country. We didn’t have enough fuel to reach the United States, but I figured any gas station outside
of Argentina would do.
Wolffe had made some calls, and we were headed to the US side of Soto Cano airfield in Honduras, home of Joint Taskforce–Bravo.
It was the primary American outpost in Central America, and hosted a slew of weird flights coming and going, from the DEA
to straight up military, so we could get in and get out without too much scrutiny.
Before I’d decided to rack out, I’d of course informed George Wolffe that I had the Israeli prime minister and our own secretary
of state on our aircraft. I’d given him a quick synopsis of what I knew about the threat in the West Bank, to include that
it was a dirty bomb.
He’d immediately shit a brick and called the principals of the Oversight Council—minus Amanda Croft. Fifteen minutes later,
I was on with them, surprised at how quickly they’d come together. Usually getting those assholes to talk to me was like pulling
teeth, but it turned out they were all already together to discuss the ramifications of something Knuckles had done.
I was itching to find out what that was, but patiently waited while I was dutifully quizzed about everything I knew, and then forced to listen to an egghead tell them the ramifications of a radiological dispersion device, which ranged from a nuisance designed to instill fear, with the blast being more dangerous than the radiation, to a Chernobyl level extermination event.
After about two hours of questioning, I was told to turn over the feed to our VIPs, and I gladly did, moving across the aircraft
to another computer to talk to Knuckles.
He came on and I smiled, saying, “Looks like you got your high adventure.”
He said, “Yeah, no doubt. I hear you’ve been banging caps too.”
“Nope. I’m so stealthy I managed to conduct the rescue without a shot being fired.” I told him the entire saga, ending with
the Ghost’s disappearance.
He said, “Man, that guy is one slippery son of a bitch. Are we going after him again when this is all done?”
I said, “I don’t know, but honestly, I’m good with it. He left the hostages alive and gave me a breadcrumb to find to save
them. He can go live a life somewhere. What about you?”
He told me the entire story, and I patted him on the back for his force of will. Anybody else would have given up at the lost
license plate. In fact, everybody else had done precisely that.
I said, “So the guy you captured ended up being the Sardar that the Israelis said was the commander of Unit 840?”
“Yeah, chalk one up for their intelligence, and give an F to ours. They were right. He’s talking, but of course, being evasive.
He claims he doesn’t know anything about a dirty bomb, he’s just a low-level minion, he thought the tanker was full of grape
soda or lemonade, yada, yada. The only thing he’s let slip is the town of Jenin. Apparently, it’s a hotbed of militants, and
that’s where Israel is focused.”
“Well, hopefully that’s enough. The one thing we’ve got going for us is that they have to give the word to initiate, and you
have the guy who’s supposed to do that.”
“Yeah, we got his computer too. Taskforce is digging into that right now.”
“What’d they decide to put out about the attempted attack in DC? Anything? Are they telling everyone not to brush their teeth
this morning?”
“Believe it or not, no. They aren’t saying shit about it. They decided the panic created would be worse than just keeping
quiet. Wolffe had the site cleaned up, taking the truck and the bodies. They analyzed what was in it, and it was pure liquid
fentanyl. The truck holds six thousand gallons, and they measured. It looks like we got there just as they started and only
about fifty to a hundred gallons made it into the system. With the size of the water usage in DC, some scientist told them
it wouldn’t be a threat.”
I said, “Wow. That’s going to cause a conspiracy theory down the road. I can see it now, ‘chemtrails introduced into water
supply.’ ”
“Yeah, well, us being there sort of complicated things. If that had gotten out, it really would have caused some conspiracy
theories—and they’d probably be correct.”
“What are they doing about the gunfight?”
“Pretty simple, actually. The DEA is going to get in a shoot-out with a motorcycle gang from Utah tied to the cartels in Mexico.
Two men killed and the biggest load of fentanyl ever seized discovered. It’ll play well.”
“Unless someone gets in a car wreck high as balls on fentanyl and claims all he did was have a cup of coffee brewed with his
tap water.”
Knuckles laughed and said, “What about you? What are you going to do about Shoshana’s clown fest?”
“The Israeli prime minister has gladly offered to take the blame. In fact, he’s going to take the blame for the entire rescue,
making Israel look like they just did another Operation Thunderbolt at Entebbe.”
He said, “How is that going to work?”
“You remember they were flying over a Kidon team?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, they made it on the ground after you left. They didn’t do anything, but they were there.
It turns out that during Shoshana’s own kidnapping drama, Aaron went in to see her and they had a conversation in Hebrew to prevent the police from knowing what they were saying, so it backs up the story.
When we finally reveal that the Israeli prime minister is alive and well, he’s going to take credit for the entire thing, saying it was the Kidon team. ”
“What about the helicopter pilot? Surely he’s blabbing.”
“Yeah, he’s a weak link. We asked him to keep specific details secret, only telling them the bare minimum, and he was really
thankful we’d arrived, so maybe he will. If he doesn’t, he’s way the hell down in Ushuaia and pretty hard to find. Either
way, right now we’re more worried about news revealing the prime minister was rescued getting out than we are about who did
it.”
Aaron and Shoshana came over to me, Shoshana taking the seat next to the window and Aaron standing in the aisle. I said, “What’s
up?”
Aaron said, “We have a serious issue with the RDD. We aren’t going to find it in time.”
“I know, I know, but we can only do what we can do. You have the town of Jenin, right? And the PM has all your assets focused
there, correct?”
Shoshana said, “Yes, but we need more time. Jenin is huge. We have the technical capability to find the emissions from the
uranium, but we have to do so surreptitiously, in a manner that won’t cause them to panic and initiate it on their own, so
that we can mount a surgical, pinpoint assault. That could take a day or two.”
“They’re waiting on the word to initiate, and we have the guy who was supposed to give it. You have some time. We aren’t on
the clock yet.”
Aaron said, “We are on the clock. Yes, the IRGC command is waiting on Sardar to report before they give the order, but when word gets out that
our prime minister has been rescued, they won’t wait on Sardar. They’ll send the order in a fit of rage. That news is going
to leak sooner rather than later.”
I thought about the helicopter pilot, then said, “What can we do? I mean, we’re thousands of miles away.”
Aaron said, “We need to cut the command out of the loop and increase the timeline. Shoshana has a plan, and I think it will
work.”
I said, “Does it involve going to the Iranian embassy in Buenos Aires and taking the ambassador hostage?”
She scowled and I saw a little grin form on Aaron’s face. He said, “Her action will end up working in your favor. In the end,
it will help your cover.”
I said, “Okay, Carrie, what do you have?”
She said, “We know the command is aware that our prime minister and your secretary of state have been taken hostage. All they’re
waiting on is a report from Sardar about the attack in the United States.”
“Yeah, I’m tracking that.”
“Okay, well, we can assume the group behind this is tiny, maybe four or five people total. I’m not even sure the ayatollah
sanctioned it, but even if he did, they’re so afraid of our Mossad that this operation would be held to a very small group.
The only ones that can order the attack.”
“Okay?”
“Knuckles has Sardar’s computer, correct?”
From the screen Knuckles said, “That’s right. We have it.”
She turned to the screen and said, “Can you access his Signal account? Can you locate how he’s talking to the command?”
“I don’t know, but I’d say yes, we could probably do that.”
I said, “What, you want to send them a fake message? Saying he had to roll over a day or two and they need to wait? Is that
it?”
“Sort of. Yes, I want to send a fake message, but I want it to say Sardar has important information, and he needs everyone
together when he sends it. While they’re getting everyone together, we track the signal to its source.”
I saw where she was going, saying, “And eliminate the source?”
She showed her teeth and said, “Yes.”
I said, “How are you going to do that from a computer?”
Aaron said, “We own the skies over Israel.”
“Even in daylight? It’s daylight over there right now. They’re only like seven hours ahead of us.”
“For a mission like this, yes, the risk will be worth it.”
“How are you going to coordinate a daylight airstrike from this plane to the Israeli air force?”
Aaron said, “We have the Israeli prime minister on this aircraft.”
From the screen, Knuckles said, “Works for me.”
I said, “If we screw it up, if they suspect a trick, we could be cutting the timeline in half.”
Aaron said, “Let the prime minister decide that.”