Chapter 85
We’d briefed the prime minister first, with Amanda Croft listening in, and he approved. Next was George Wolffe, who’d taken
it to the Oversight Council and the president. From there, everyone began to work their coordination for the operation, and
I’d gone to sleep.
Now, rubbing the grit out of my eyes, I was amazed that all the coordination had actually happened. We needed the entire NSA
and Israeli Unit 8200 focused on the far-end signal, an Israeli strike package loitering just outside Iranian radar range,
including all the necessary aerial refueling assets, and ISR overhead in the form of satellites and high-altitude UAVs. Finally,
we had to have the cyber skill to hack Sardar’s computer and initiate the conversation in the first place—without spooking the Iranians.
The president had given George Wolffe operational control on the United States side, which I’m sure caused CIA director Kerry
Bostwick to bust a blood vessel, but it made sense, as we’d done all the groundwork and owned the computer. All Bostwick provided
was his best Iranian expert, who could also speak Farsi.
I had no idea who was in charge of the Israeli tactical effort, but the only direct communication lines running out of the
Rock Star Bird were the two in front of Amanda and the prime minister. Amanda was connected to the president and the rest
of the principals in the Oversight Council and the prime minister had a direct link to someone in Israel.
The rest of the computers were passive, just tapped into the message reflections without any ability to actually interject, like the difference between listening to an FM radio versus being able to talk on the airwaves.
The computer in front of Aaron was a split screen of the encrypted chat between the initiating squadron of the IDF and its
higher command and a rotating video feed from various ISR assets. The one in front of Veep was a split screen of the actual
Signal feed to Iran and the chat between Wolffe and the oversight council.
After putting the plan together, we were just spectators for the actual show.
The prime minister said something in Hebrew to his computer and Aaron said, “He just ordered them to start.”
I saw chats scrolling on his screen, all in Hebrew, and said, “What’s all that?”
“Just warning orders. They’re telling the loitering force to stand by.”
Veep’s screen on the left popped up with Farsi. The screen on the right said, First message sent. Waiting.
I said, “What did they come up with to determine success? How are they going to do BDA to determine if they eliminated the
target set?”
Veep said, “The CIA guy is going to start asking them questions while the bombs drop. If they keep answering after impact,
we know we missed.”
We sat waiting for five minutes, then another set of Farsi popped on the screen. I ignored it, looking at the right side.
Iranians have engaged. Searching for location.
The left side went back and forth in Farsi. The right remained blank. Finally, the right read, Iranians have taken the bait. Stand by. Still determining location.
I felt someone squeeze my arm and turned, finding Jennifer holding it with both hands, focused on the screen. She glanced
at me, then let go, saying, “Sorry.”
I said, “That’s okay. I was thinking about doing the same thing with Veep.”
She smiled and replaced her hands.
The Oversight chat spit out, Location identified. Shahroud Missile Test Site. 36.2009°N 55.3339°E. Standing by for meeting.
The video split screen on Aaron’s computer flipped, and we were looking at a barren desert. It zoomed in, and a cluster of
bland concrete buildings appeared with what appeared to be a large pad next to them.
Nothing happened for the next ten minutes, with the entire planeload of people seeming to hold their breath. Farsi appeared
on the split screen.
Then, Target group on site. Execute.
Aaron’s chat screen started to go wild in Hebrew. He said, “They’ve penetrated Iranian airspace. No response from Iran.”
The Hebrew continued, and he said, “Moving north. Still no response from Iran.”
The Farsi continued, first from one end, then a reply from the other, with the CIA man waiting thirty seconds before each
reply, extending out the chat.
The Taskforce chat said, Iranians getting suspicious.
Aaron said, “One minute until TOT.”
The Farsi continued.
The Taskforce chat said, Meeting is being called. They’ve decided to initiate the weapon.
Aaron said, “Thirty seconds.”
The Farsi from our side popped up again, and I knew it was a desperate attempt to keep the men in the room. I waited for a
reply, but one didn’t come. Shit. They’ve left.
Aaron said, “Bomb’s away.”
I saw a reply from the Iranians appear in the Farsi chat, then turned to the screen with the video. There was a streak of
light, followed by a direct hit on the buildings, one after another one-thousand-pound JDAMs pulverizing the place. It happened
in the span of two seconds, the smoke and dust rising from the ruins and beginning to drift in the wind, the crosshairs of
the ISR rotating to keep the site on the screen.
A Farsi chat appeared from our end. Twenty seconds later, another one came from our CIA man.
The Taskforce chat sent, Sending queries. No response.
A final Farsi chat appeared from us. Everyone on the plane waited in silence.
The Taskforce chat spit out, No response. Jackpot. Jackpot.
The aircraft erupted in cheers and clapping. I exhaled my breath, not even realizing I’d been holding it. I shook Aaron’s
hand, then Veep’s. Jennifer hugged me and I looked at the prime minister over her shoulder. He gave me a tepid smile and a
thumbs-up, then came over, saying, “Aaron and Shoshana tell me that Israel has you to thank.”
I said, “They did more than anyone. You should thank whoever sent them to Argentina in the first place.”
He nodded with a wisp of a smile again, and I knew what he was thinking. All the Americans were celebrating a successful operation,
like it was an endstate, but he still had a dirty bomb to deal with.
I said, “Sorry about the cheering. I know it’s not over.”
He nodded, this time with a genuine smile and said, “It’s okay. I understand. Like in your football, you cheer after a touchdown
even if the game isn’t over. Unfortunately, the game is still on the line for us, but we’ll find the bomb, don’t worry. You’ve
given us the time for that.”
The aircraft turned into a little bit of a mixer, with everyone chattering like we were at a cocktail party. I asked Amanda
if I could borrow her terminal and took it to my seat, dialing up the Taskforce and seeing Knuckles, Brett, Creed, and George
Wolffe inside the Taskforce conference room, doing the same thing we were doing on the aircraft.
I got their attention, and they turned around, Wolffe saying, “Speak of the devil.”
I said, “The devil’s still running loose, unfortunately.”
He laughed and I said, “How’d the Oversight Council take all of us running amok? Everything cool?”
“Are you kidding? I look like a mastermind, with the Taskforce solving three terrorist actions all by itself. Even that prick
Alexander Palmer had to congratulate me.”
I said, “Yeah, with a huge amount of luck. All three of them could have gone either way. Shit, one of them still could. That RDD is still out there.”
He grew serious and said, “I know, I know, but it wasn’t luck, and the RDD is all but neutralized. The Israelis just needed
some time to mount radiological sensors on a Gray Eagle drone, time they now have. Once that’s done, they’ll find the device
like a compass needle to a magnet. The president sends his regards.”
Knuckles said, “As well he should. How’s Amanda doing?”
I knew why he was asking. I said, “She’s fine. She asked about you. I told her you’d rather go to DC than be involved in her
rescue attempt. She didn’t seem to think that was too cool.”
He said, “That’s not funny.”
Brett said, “So much for the hostage rescue sex.”
We started laughing at his expense, and he changed the subject, saying, “What are we doing about the Ghost?”
Brett said, “Pike, pick us up after you drop off your VIPs at Andrews. His trail’s getting colder the longer we sit here slapping
ourselves on the back. We still have the original mission set active. The Oversight Council will never know.”
Wolffe chuckled and said, “No way am I destroying the good will we just built. Pike, just get back here in one piece with
the hostages. Let’s call it a win. The Ghost can wait for another day.”
I said, “Fine with me. He deserves a head start after what he did.”
We bantered back and forth a little more, then Wolffe was called away. I shut down the computer and just sat looking out the
window, thinking about the Ghost.
A figure plopped in the seat next to me, and I turned, seeing Shoshana. She said, “I told you it was a good plan.”
I said, “It was indeed. Much better than that plan at the airport.”
She smiled, taking the ribbing, and I grew serious, saying, “You still have to find that device.”
She said, “We’ll find it. The original Signal chat said they didn’t even know what they have, so they aren’t going to try to hide the emissions.
My bet is that the device is tucked away, camouflaged in something in plain sight, and they’re sitting around right now waiting on a call that will never come. We’ll find it.”
I nodded and she said, “Nobody understands, but you are the one who made this happen.”
I said, “Come on, Carrie. I get I’m a barrel-chested freedom fighter, but it was your idea here. I didn’t do anything.”
She did her little stare, penetrating my soul, and said, “It was your phone call to the Ghost. That changed the entire course
of events. If you hadn’t called him, everyone would have died. We wouldn’t even know about the RDD until after it went off.
The prime minister and your secretary of state would be dead. It was you.”
Uncomfortable, I said, “It was just a call.”
“How did you know that would change everything?”
“Honestly, I didn’t. I just thought it might be something that we could use.”
She said, “You read him, like I do. You knew. You make fun of me, but you’re the same.”
I said, “Well, you’re the one who said he wouldn’t kill them on the plane. Maybe I was just using that.”
Jennifer came up and said, “Why are you guys hiding over here?”
Shoshana didn’t say anything, but her expression was smug, like she knew a secret and wasn’t telling.
I said, “We were talking about the Ghost.”
Jennifer said, “I wonder what happened to that guy?”
I said, “I don’t know, and I don’t want to. If he makes it out of Argentina alive, he’s earned it.”