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The Tehran Initiative, Page 29

Joel C. Rosenberg


  David passed through the town of Veyan and soon approached the junction for Route 48. There still wasn’t much civilian traffic, but he was struck by the number of military vehicles now on the road: troop transports, jeeps, and even tanks being transferred from one place to another on flatbed trucks. He wondered whether this was some sort of anomaly in this area or whether Jack and Eva and Tom were getting reports of more military movement around the country. He made a mental note to report what he was seeing on his next call to Langley, for he suspected it was probably widespread. Iran was getting ready for a war that could commence within days. It certainly made sense that they were making final preparations.

  Suddenly he found himself thinking of a line on intelligence gathering from Sun Tzu’s classic tome, The Art of War: “Foreknowledge cannot be elicited from spirits, nor from gods, nor by analogy with past events, nor from calculations. It must be obtained from men who know the enemy situation.” Wasn’t this why Zalinsky had sent him inside Iran on this particular mission in the first place? The satellite phones were supposed to be giving them the ability to eavesdrop on the very men who knew the enemy’s situation, who were planning and executing that situation. They had certainly had some important successes so far. But why weren’t they getting more phone intercepts? Why weren’t they being deluged with more details and insights than they could keep up with?

  David pondered that for some time. Most of the regime leadership’s conversations were probably via secure e-mail, a system they had not yet been able to tap into but which they would more likely be able to compromise once all of MDS’s advanced telecommunications software was installed nationwide, though that was still months away. But the prime reason had to be that the Iranians at the highest echelons of the regime did not trust the satellite phones yet. Given their previous experience of buying satphones from the Russians and later finding them all bugged by the FSB, that certainly made sense. And what had Esfahani just said? “We are about to live in a world without America and without Zionism. Our holy hatred is about to strike like a wave against the infidels. We don’t trust anyone. We can’t trust anyone. The enemy is moving. He is among us. We must be careful.”

  Wasn’t that why they had tortured him? Wasn’t that why Javad had called Firouz and Jamshad using his satphone and spoken so openly about where to pick up their fake passports? They were testing, probing, trying to determine whether anyone was listening in, trying to determine whom and what they could trust.

  Had the phones now passed the test? David guessed the answer was yes. That was why Esfahani was pushing him so hard to get the rest of the phones. He suspected, therefore, that call usage was about to soar. He certainly hoped so, but even that wasn’t going to be enough. Langley was relying far too heavily on SIGINT, signals intelligence, and more specifically on COMINT, communications intelligence. No one in the world was better at either than the US intelligence community, as David knew firsthand. But that wasn’t why Zalinsky had recruited him, to bolster the Agency’s already-strong hand. Zalinsky had specifically recruited him to help rebuild the Agency’s weakest link, HUMINT, human intelligence. For the $80 billion they spent a year on spying, the US was doing far too little of it. They weren’t putting nearly enough NOCs fluent in Farsi, Arabic, Urdu, and other Middle Eastern languages into the field to befriend or buy off men who knew the enemy situation. They had him, but David realized he had to aim higher. If he had any shot at truly being useful, he had to be talking to insiders, which led him to one name: Javad Nouri.

  It was high risk, and he was not specifically authorized by Zalinsky to make contact with the Twelfth Imam’s right-hand man. But what choice did he have? Javad likely knew more about the enemy’s plans than any single individual, aside from the Mahdi himself. True, David had only met the guy once, when Esfahani had told him to collect the first satellite phones David had smuggled into the country. They had spoken only briefly. But David was desperate. So he pulled up Javad’s number—not the satphone number, but his mobile—and dialed.

  “I’m not here right now, or I’m on the other line. Please leave me your name, number, and a brief message, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

  The recording didn’t give a name, but the voice was unmistakable.

  “Javad, hey, this is Reza. Sorry to bother you, but I couldn’t get in touch with our mutual friends, so I thought I’d just call you directly. By tomorrow, I should have most of the gifts you guys requested. Still trying to get the rest but thought I should get you these right away. Please call me and let me know how best to get them to you. Thanks.”

  David gave his own number and hung up. “Three strikes and you’re out,” he sighed as he passed another military convoy on the road to Qom.

  42

  Washington, DC

  The president was headed to the Situation Room.

  Surrounded by a phalanx of Secret Service agents, he left the Oval Office and walked directly to the five-thousand-square-foot complex of conference rooms, private offices, the “watch room,” and the “surge room,” on the lower floor of the West Wing, that was collectively referred to throughout the White House as the Sit Room. There, Jackson was met by the vice president and the rest of the National Security Council, who stood as he entered.

  “Be seated,” Jackson said as he took his own seat at the head of the mahogany table and quickly scanned the six flat-screen televisions lining the walls, two of which now provided real-time video feeds from a Predator drone monitoring the Iranian naval flotilla in the Med, while three provided live feeds from US spy satellites monitoring Iranian nuclear facilities in Hamadan, Natanz, and Esfahān. CIA director Allen was on the sixth screen, in a secure videoconference mode from the US Embassy in Amman.

  “What have you got, Roger?”

  “Mr. President, things are worsening at a fairly rapid clip over here,” Allen began. “Have you had a chance to read the memo I just sent over to the NSC?”

  Jackson hadn’t, and he took a moment to scan the document.

  >>TOP SECRET—EYES ONLY<<<br />
  TO: President, Vice President

  CC: National Security Council

  FROM: Roger Allen, Director, Central Intelligence Agency

  RE: Warning of Possible Imminent Attack on Israel

  New reporting indicates possible imminent attack on the State of Israel by forces under the command and control of the Twelfth Imam (TTI).

  Credible intel puts two (2) nuclear warheads on Iranian naval vessels in the Mediterranean, both operational, both attached to high-speed ballistic missiles aimed at Israel, and both reportedly to be fired before Tuesday next.

  We are sending a UAV with an externally mounted high-resolution scintillation detector to scan the naval flotilla. This will allow us to determine if high-energy gamma radiation is emanating from any of the ships. We should have results by late Thursday.

  In the meantime, the Agency assesses the likelihood of two (2) warheads being on board, operational, and attached to high-speed ballistic missiles aimed at the State of Israel at 80 to 85 percent.

  Six (6) additional nuclear warheads also believed to be operational. Locations currently unknown. Aggressive efforts to pinpoint them under way.

  Other signs of probable imminent attack on Israel:

  TTI canceled his trip to Jordan.

  TTI making emergency return trip to Iran.

  TTI told Iran’s minister of defense to “make sure everything is in place and ready—everything—when I arrive.”

  We are now seeing increased activity on Iranian air bases.

  We are now seeing increased activity on Iranian missile bases.

  TTI has enlisted Egypt, Lebanon, Syria, and Saudi Arabia into Caliphate, effectively surrounding Israel.

  Agency assesses that TTI now has means, motive, and opportunity to launch attack on Israel.

  At this time, Agency assesses TTI has motive but not means or opportunity to hit the US homeland directly. Nevertheless, we recommend US move to
DEFCON 3 and immediately put additional radiological sensors at border crossings, shipyards, and airports.

  Finally, Agency assesses a growing Pearl Harbor threat to US Navy’s Fifth Fleet and Central Command personnel and facilities in Bahrain. Should TTI choose to close the Strait of Hormuz and shut down oil shipments to the West, he has several options.

  TTI could order a surprise attack against our ships and forces in Bahrain.

  TTI could incite the Shia majority (almost 70 percent) to overthrow the Sunni ruling family—so far the king is sticking with us, but violent protests have rocked the capital in the last week and calls for the kingdom to join the Caliphate are rising.

  At present, the Agency believes Israel is the main target for TTI and his allies, and TTI will not want to draw the US into a direct conflict unless or until Israel is destroyed or effectively neutralized. Nevertheless, we recommend putting all US naval forces in the region at FPCON CHARLIE.

  The president turned his attention first to Jordan. “Does the king concur with this assessment?” he asked Allen.

  “I didn’t discuss this specific intelligence with him, Mr. President, or this specific memo,” Allen replied. “You all are the first to get this. But there’s no question the king is convinced war is imminent, and he is terrified, frankly, of Jordanians being killed in the cross fire of a missile war between Iran and Israel. He’s making an emergency request for Patriot missile batteries to be deployed on Jordanian soil. He’s asking that US fighter jets hold an immediate joint exercise with the Royal Jordanian Air Force. And he is asking that you make an immediate visit to Amman this weekend as a show of American commitment to him and the survival of his regime.”

  Jackson winced. That was the last thing he was prepared to do. Rather than respond immediately, however, he poured himself a glass of water and nodded to the secretary of state to reply.

  “How did the king respond to the president’s proposal that Jordan join a US-backed Sunni alliance against the Twelfth Imam and the Caliphate?” asked the secretary, freshly home from a whirlwind tour of NATO capitals. “The Europeans are skeptical that such an alliance can be built. Of course, they don’t want to see the entire Middle East and North Africa under the control of one man either.”

  “Well, let me just say that the king was more supportive of the idea before the Egyptians joined the Caliphate,” Allen said. “Now he fears he’ll be left all alone. If the Paks join us too, that would help. That’s why I think my trip to Islamabad will be critical. But at the moment, the king is noncommittal until he sees tangible support for Jordan’s security.”

  The president asked the defense secretary if they could put several Patriot missile batteries on the ground in Jordan in the next seventy-two hours.

  “We certainly can,” the SecDef said. “But I need to caution everyone here that the Patriot isn’t perfect. It can take down tactical ballistic missiles, cruise missiles, and advanced fighter jets, but it’s not going to get everything. Especially if hundreds of missiles are inbound.”

  “When are you supposed to meet with the king next, Roger?” Jackson asked.

  “It’s just past midnight here, sir. We’re supposed to have breakfast at seven tomorrow. But the defense minister said I could call him at any hour once I heard from you. How would you like to proceed, Mr. President?”

  That was the problem. Jackson didn’t know. He hated being forced to react to events and requests. He wanted to be proactive, but try as he might, he couldn’t seem to get out in front of the crisis.

  “Say yes to the Patriots,” he said at last. “Get Defense to take the lead on those details. But say no to the joint air exercise—it’s simply too provocative at the moment.”

  “That could prove decisive on whether the king will help start a Sunni alliance against the Caliphate,” Allen said.

  “I understand, but it’s too provocative,” the president replied. “I don’t want a show of American force. That would be throwing kerosene on a bonfire.”

  “And a quick trip over here by you?” Allen asked. “You could be here by tomorrow, then stop in Israel, too. Sir, I think it would mean a lot to both countries, knowing you are standing with them in this crisis.”

  “Even with your memo that war is imminent?” Jackson asked.

  “Especially given that,” Allen replied.

  “I’m sure Secret Service will want to weigh in on that,” Jackson quipped.

  He solicited input from the rest of the NSC, which proved to be split down the middle, but he had already made up his mind.

  “Tell the king I deeply appreciate his offer and look forward to visiting sometime soon but that my doctors say I cannot travel right now,” the president said. “Look, gentlemen, I still think I can get through to the Mahdi and find a peaceful way out of this thing. I have to believe that. And I don’t want to do anything provocative or incendiary that could jeopardize our discussions. In fact, I’m going to send a back-channel message to the Mahdi to see if we can move our phone call up from next Tuesday to tomorrow. In the meantime, tomorrow I’m going to call for an emergency session of the UN Security Council, and I’m going to suggest that the secretary-general invite the Mahdi to meet with the council and discuss his concerns at his earliest possible convenience.”

  There was a hum of agreement around the table.

  “Mr. President, this is Roger again in Amman.”

  “Yes, Roger.”

  “Sir, no one appreciates your commitment to peace more than me. But every indicator we have is that the Mahdi is ready to launch a nuclear strike on Israel at any moment. He just told Defense Minister Faridzadeh to ‘make sure everything is ready.’ None of my senior staff believe the Mahdi is open to negotiations. We believe he is buying time to finalize his preparations for war.”

  “So what are you saying, Roger?”

  “Mr. President, I’m saying that any window for diplomacy has closed. I think we need to seriously consider taking military action against the Iranian nuclear sites and naval vessels we know of before the Mahdi can use those warheads and before the Israelis can strike.”

  The president turned to the SecDef. “You have your plan ready, right?”

  “Yes, sir, Op Plan 106,” the SecDef replied. “We’ve secretly positioned additional air assets in Greece and Cyprus, and we have the USS Enterprise and the bulk of the Sixth Fleet in the eastern Med. Meanwhile, we have the USS Dwight D. Eisenhower battle group patrolling the Gulf. Our stealth bombers are on alert at Whiteman in Missouri. The moment we get confirmed coordinates on those eight warheads, we can launch cruise missiles within two hours and execute the entire plan in less than six.”

  “Good. We need to keep all options on the table,” the president said. “So your point is noted, Roger. That said, I couldn’t disagree with you more. I don’t think another US-led war in the Middle East is going to solve anything. I firmly believe diplomacy is the way forward, in close consultation with the UN and our NATO allies. So, Roger, I’d like you to come home immediately after your breakfast meeting with the king. State will take over from here. I’m sending the secretary to Islamabad tonight instead of you. I want you to focus exclusively on finding those warheads and keeping us apprised of any Israeli and Iranian moves toward war.”

  Allen had just been benched. He looked deflated, but he knew his place. “Yes, sir, Mr. President. Just a quick point of clarification on that.”

  “What?”

  “Would you like the secretary to brief Prime Minister Naphtali on our latest intelligence on the Iranian nuclear threat, or should I proceed with that?”

  “I will call the prime minister myself in the morning,” the president said.

  “But, sir, respectfully, we are assessing an imminent attack,” the CIA director noted. “The Israelis need to know immediately.”

  “I’ll call them in the morning, once you have confirmed whether there are any warheads actually on those Iranian missile boats,” the president said. “I don’t want to traffic in
rumors, and I certainly don’t want to give the Israelis an excuse to launch a first strike. That is all, gentlemen.”

  And with that, Jackson stood and walked out of the Sit Room.

  43

  En Route to Qom, Iran

  David had been on the road for more than an hour.

  His eyelids were getting heavy, and the Iranian folk music he was listening to on the radio to pass the time wasn’t helping. But he was making progress. He had just fueled up in the village of Kalle Dasht and was now rapidly approaching the town of Saveh and the junction with Route 5. There, he would turn south until he reached the interchange at Garangan, where he would take Route 56 directly into Qom. At this rate, he expected to reach the hotel by around 2 a.m. and be in bed no later than 2:30.

  His mobile phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID but didn’t recognize the number. Hoping it was Zalinsky or Eva with some good news, he took the call anyway.

  “Reza?”

  “Yes, this is he.”