49 — Logging On
About twenty minutes after securing the Dehloran Radar Complex, all four of the Iranian radar technicians were handcuffed and seated on their own rear ends just outside of the first radar operations trailer. Two Israeli commandos kept watch. One sniper and the laser range finding man were standing watch over the access road at the same position used by the IRGC. The two corpses were dragged about a dozen meters downhill and out of sight. Benny Stern found a place to set up where he could cover the men watching the access road and all of the structures. Isaac Mofaz set up the flat panel receiver at a random spot close to the trailers. He altered the orbit of the Boomerang so that it now orbited the junction of the access road and the Derrah Shahr-Abdanan road. He had handed off the video reception tablet to the two men who were now guarding the access road.
Another Israeli commando was busy planting C-4 plastic explosive around the base of the radar dome structure. Still another had sent a message to Mount Olympus by burst transmission. The Olympus team now knew the complex was securely under the control of Task Force Camel.
But the real reason for this mission was taking place inside the radar operations trailer. Isaac sat in front of the communications console while Manu stood behind him looking over his shoulder. Captain Ben Zeev stood in the middle of the trailer with another man who had the satellite burst communication device out and awaiting further orders. Yosef stood in the doorway, his pistol holstered and his M-4 draped across his front. He kept an eye on the four Iranians sitting outside and the four Israelis sitting and standing inside. He had been calm through the entire process but was now nervous — the fact that he could no longer control events making him fidgety and anxious.
Isaac spent the next four minutes playing with the keyboard and the settings on the console. He seemed to be frustrated. The captain watched and listened to their conversation as best he could, but it had become quite technical and the military officer was no longer following the two computer geeks. Manu stepped over to his backpack and searched for something. He removed a small notepad and returned to his prior position. He began to flip through the pages and state word and number combinations to Isaac.
Finally Isaac stood up and Manu sat down. The Persian Jew began tapping on the keyboard as Isaac Mofaz made occasional suggestions, sometimes pointing at the computer screen both men were focused on.
After another six minutes, Ben Zeev stepped over. “What’s going on?”
Manu kept looking at the screen as he replied. “We have a problem.”
“What? Talk to me.”
Manu hit enter and was still unsatisfied. “We expected that they would be logged onto the network. He was not logged on.”
The captain felt a knot in his stomach. Failure to access the Iranian integrated air defense network would jeopardize a meaningful portion of the planning for Block G. It would not make their trip worthless — they had already achieved the base foundational requirement for the mission to go forward by taking control of the complex — but it meant that the losses suffered by the IAF this night would certainly be significantly higher than otherwise. “Okay, what does this mean?”
What the Olympus planners did not know was that the procedures followed by all crews manning Iranian early warning radar sites had been changed effective the first day of July. Since then, all communications officers had been required to log off the network at the end of every shift. The new shift crew had to log back on using a password that identified that team. The assault by Task Force Camel had occurred before the new communications officer had logged on. “We are trying all of the passwords provided to us. No luck so far.” Aman and Unit 8200 had targeted Iranian military passwords and password methodology. But their ability to learn passwords relevant to the air defense network had been curtailed when the network was unplugged from the outside world.
“That will take forever. Damn, the man who knows the password is sitting outside,” the captain commented. He turned around and walked to the door, looking outside at the four men sitting in the dirt. One man looked up at him and the captain recognized him as the man who had been at the communications console just minutes earlier. Ben Zeev turned to Hisami. “Bring that second man in here.”
Moments later, the Iranian stood in the middle of the trailer. He looked directly into the eyes of the captain. Manu asked him for the password. The man was silent. The captain repeated the request. The Iranian stayed silent. The captain stood directly in front of the captive. “This is my word to you. Give us the password and you and the men outside will live through this unharmed. You have my word. If you do not tell us, you and the men outside will suffer greatly and we will break into your network anyway before the night is through.”
The man’s gaze into Ben Zeev’s eyes did not falter. If he was afraid, he did not show it. “Go to hell you Jew pig.” The man knew exactly who he was dealing with.
The mountain goat stepped behind the Iranian and swung the butt of his M-4 into the man’s right kidney. The man made no sound but his right knee buckled. Hisami followed his initial action by grabbing the man’s hair and pulling down and back as he kicked his right boot into the rear of the Iranian’s left knee. The communications officer dropped to his knees.
“Take him outside and gag all four of them,” the captain commanded to Yosef Hisami. Ben Zeev did not want the two Israeli computer men in the trailer to see what was about to happen. The captain turned to Manu. “Keep working. If we get this guy to talk, I will be back in.” Manu sat back down at the console.
Hisami grabbed the thick head of hair of the Iranian and dragged him across the floor and out the door. A couple minutes later, the captain stepped outside. All four men were now gagged by the insertion of a hand towel retrieved from the middle trailer into their mouths. Three of the Iranians were sitting as they had been before, and the one who had been dragged out was lying on his stomach.
The captain addressed all four men. “Your friend has the password into the network. I need that password. When he gives it to me, at that point you will all be treated well and you have my word that you will all live through this ordeal. Until he gives me the password, you will suffer great pain.” The captain studied the faces of the three seated men, looking for the weakest. He already knew the man that had been dragged out was very brave and very strong-willed. On the right, a young man, probably no older than 22 or 23, kept his head down. The man was shaking like a leaf. The captain walked to him and squatted down. Ben Zeev lifted the man’s chin up and looked into his eyes. He pulled the gag from his mouth. “Do you want to die tonight?”
“No sir,” replied the young Iranian, his voice quivering and breaking.
“Tell your friend to talk to us.” The young man was too frightened to talk. “Go ahead, tell him to talk.” The man just sat there shaking, his eyes looking down even as his chin was being held up.
The captain stood and directed a command to one of his men. “Get that one into a seated position.” Ben Zeev was pointing at the communications officer. “I want him to watch this.” The Iranian was flipped over onto his back and his shoulders raised up, bringing him into a sitting position.
Ben Zeev decided he could not outsource what he had to do next. He looked at the two other men. The one sitting next to the young man looked to be the stronger of the two. The captain stepped to him and grabbed the man’s collar behind his neck, dragging him forward and onto his stomach. He pulled out his pistol and bent over to place the muzzle against the back of the man’s left knee. He pulled the trigger and the bullet exploded into and through the man’s kneecap, shattering the joint. The man screamed in pain, his gag seeming to make no difference to the volume coming from his vocal chords.