“Tell them to get all four in position to box it and get their cameras on it ASAP.”
“I’ll get back to you when I see what is happening up there.”
“Yes, Mr. President.”
“One more quick question.”
“Yes.”
“Who is on the plane?”
The General responded, “256 passengers. Most are Iranian workers and businessmen returning to Dubai — some Pakistani, Iraqi, Saudi Arabia — sixty-four women and forty-one children.”
Landenberger addressed his staff. “All right then. Let’s suppose this is worst case scenario. We have terrorists in control of the aircraft and there is nothing short of shooting them down that will stop this.”
The SecDef began, “Our fighters could try to force them down into the ocean; however with terrorists in control, with little experience, I doubt they would be able to perform any kind of maneuver. Every attempt should be made to get communication going and we could talk them out of it.”
“I would bet that we will get no response to any negotiations.”
Deshano agreed, “We are way beyond diplomacy here. It is an organized plot to take down one of our super carriers.”
“If it is Al-Nakbah, Al Qaeda, Mossad, or others how do we account that the airbus is filled with Iranians?”
“They probably spotted weak security and felt it was the only way to go.”
Robinson jumped in. “It is the target, not the plane. They want to take out an American target and there were simply no aircraft filled with Americans handy.”
“OK then — the plane is probably a means to an end. They are not interested in hostage taking and not concerned about who dies on the plane.”
Melissa Farnsworth held a pen and poked nervously at a pile of papers in front of her. “It is 9/11 with Iranians instead of Americans.”
“Worst case scenario…,” mumbled Christopher Adelberg, the Secretary of State, “is that they intend to take out the SS George H.W. Bush and the USS Enterprise.”
“Mr. President,” came a voice from the secure line, “the Super Hornets are approaching the airbus now.” Everyone focused upon the screens.
Live audio filled the room as the pilots surrounded the aircraft. “This is Bishop I to IRF 645 requesting communication. Repeat, this is Bishop I to IRF 645 requesting communication.”
Pause
“You are requested to acknowledge. We are within visual and request that you acknowledge. Rock your wing to acknowledge.”
An empty hiss filled the air.
“This is CPDLC. Get your cameras on the cockpit now. We need to see what is going on inside.”
“Roger that”
Cameras began to get a bead on the cockpit, most of it glare. Brief glimpses of bearded faces peeked through. That was apparently enough.
CPDLC general said, “We are checking to see if those are the pilots. It’ll take a minute to run it through our ID program.”
“Aircraft approaching our position. Looks like five aircraft approaching with ETA two minutes.”
“Hold on — the Iranians are contacting us now.”
“Patch them through please.”
“This is General Hanbal of the Revolutionary Guard.”
“This is President Landenberger.”
“It seems we have a situation here. This is our airbus and we will handle this.”
“We believe the aircraft is set to destroy one of our vessels.”
“We will soon see. We wish your fighters to stand back while we assess the situation.”
“Time is of the essence. We will fall back in order for you to make your assessment. CPDLC did you copy that?”
“Affirmative and falling back as we speak.”
“Falling back and trailing one mile.”
The Phantom II’s whooshed into position and surrounded the airbus armed with SNEB 68 mm rockets, air-to-ground missiles, anti-runway weapons, anti-ship missiles, targeting pods, reconnaissance pods, and more.
A minute later one pulled far ahead and released a barrage of flares in order to assure that the pilots understood that they were being watched. Most often, the flares were used as decoys in order to avoid being shot down by heat seeking missiles.
A CPDLC general said, “We have an ETA of ten minutes until Air Flight 645 reaches the target area. Wait a second…. Here is the report. The pilots are terrorists. We confirm they are not the proper pilots. A decision must be reached in nine minutes.”
“We will make all the decisions here!” The emphatic voice of the Iranian general was sounding a bit pompous.
“I order your forces to stand back. We are going to resolve this.”
“We will not stand down. We will remain in place until this is resolved.”
“If you do not stand down we consider it an act of war!”
“NINE MINUTES TO IMPACT!”
Chapter Sixteen
Sufyan Thawri needed a plan.
He did not wish to die.
He very slowly pulled the leather belt off the bloody corpse beside him trying his best not to move around that much as he did it. He did not want to bring attention to himself. His eyes darted back and forth. Careful… carefully now… ever so slowly. I have it! Allah is with me.
The terrorist behind had moved further back into the cabin and he felt he could whisper to those ahead of him. “I have a belt and will use it to strangle the one that is behind us. Someone must draw him up here and when he passes my position I will grab him from behind and strangle him.”
A voice answered from ahead, “What is to keep the one ahead of us from coming back here and killing all of us?”
Thawri had it well thought out. “When he moves forward there will be others behind and that will be their opportunity to jump him. He has no gun. I will be busy with the first one. Others must deal with the second man.”
The plan moved up and down the aisle in whispers. It was agreed. It wasn’t that much of a plan, but some were willing to give it a try. Someone would need to turn around and that would bring the terrorist up the aisle. To turn around may mean death for the one willing to do it if Thawri failed to subdue him. “I will let no one down. When he passes my seat I will make my move. Allah is with us.”
“Allah is with us.”
“Quiet!” said the terrorist in the front. He took a single step forward and no one moved. The whispering came to a halt and that appeared to satisfy him. “The next person I hear will taste my blade.” His eyes surveyed the passengers while he brandished the knife so all could see.
“Psst. I am ready. Someone must turn their head.”
He sat for a minute while no one moved. They’re all cowards. He was about to run down the aisle and attack the terrorist by himself when he saw a head four seats up turn around.
This is it. He said a silent prayer as the terrorist could be heard rushing down the aisle exactly as he had planned. He would let no one down.
Closer… closer…. He tightened his grip on the belt and tested it for strength snapping it hard.
He saw the foot, the leg and then the backside. He sprang from his seat and wrapped the belt around the neck of the terrorist and pulled him back as hard as he could.
“Arrggh!”
Thawri tightened the belt choking the life out him while thrashing him around like a rag doll. The man was strong, but Thawri held tight. Arms flailed in all directions and a passenger was slashed in the ruckus.
“What?” The other terrorist moved forward waving his knife apparently determined to kill Thawri for his impertinence.
When he reached the seventh row a foot pushed out tripping him. He caught himself before he fell completely, but it was too late. Passengers jumped from their seats and were on top of him going for the knife. He was strong and managed to slice up one of the passengers, however others grabbed his arm and wrenched it free. Pandemonium broke out as everyone jumped on him and dragged him to the floor screaming.