Our plan is straightforward. CENTCOM will direct Operation OMAN.
We will use our submarines to deploy our forces under the cover of darkness, eight p.m. our time, the day after tomorrow. There is little moonlight — and when all are in place we will give the signal to begin. Each team will engage the targets as needed, then neutralize the hostile forces and take control of the ships. The hostages will be helicoptered to the USS George H.W. Bush for debriefing, from there to Bagdad International and then to D.C. for a photo shoot with the president. Prisoners will be taken to the USS Enterprise then returned to the Russians in Somalia where the government will deal with them.”
“And the tankers?” inquired Landenberger
“They will deliver oil to their destinations. We assume the crews are still onboard and can complete that part of the mission.”
“What assurance do I have that this will all go down well?”
“Our models indicate a ninety-four percent chance of complete success and there is the possibility in an operation this large that one or two of the tankers might incur some losses.”
“What might that be?”
“Some hostages might be killed. Some of our men may be killed in the line of duty.”
“That is the price of war. Let us pray for the best and hope that it goes well.” Landenberger stood and addressed the brass and cabinet members. “This looks like a well thought out plan. I am confident we can do this and in the end we will all stand tall. We will be stronger for having taken this action against a fierce enemy that takes women and children as hostages. God bless America.”
Chapter Twenty-two
Prime Minister Harazi prepared a hot cup of coffee and opened a box of baklava that he had sent to his office each morning. He boiled a pot of water, added coffee and watched it boil up before pouring it into a cup. He sipped the coffee and peered out the window as the sun came up. Soon Dazdraperm entered and pulled up a chair then began reading the editorial in the Jerusalem Post. Harazi pressed the remote and watched the news on Channel 2. The pair was accustomed to one another, neither offering nor giving little more than an acknowledgement that the other was there, much like a married couple.
The phone rang.
Harazi listened to the frantic voice,” This is General Alabbar. The Iranians have launched a missile and it appears to be headed directly for Jerusalem!”
Harazi relayed the message to Dazdraperm and put the general on the speaker.
“We will know in several minutes if it is a Shahab-2 or Shahab-3. We are evaluating it now on our satellite links.”
“What is the ETA?”
“About thirty minutes. It is picking up speed so it could be less than that.”
“Prepare our anti-missile system and be ready to launch on my command. Place the military on red alert and notify the radio and TV stations that a missile has been launched. Stay at your phone for further orders.”
“Yes, Mr. Prime Minister.”
Harazi was worried. In half an hour we could all be dead.
Dazdraperm paced the floor. “We must think about a counter strike. We cannot let them launch a nuke at us and simply sit here watching it fall from the sky. We have the ability to intercept it — I hope we do. Nothing would make them happier than see us sit and do nothing.”
“Nuke? We must use our heads and figure out what this is all about. We know they would like to wipe us out.”
“There is only one missile? If they choose to they could launch many. Khalilullah 'Abd al-Wahhab danced around that idea only yesterday at the UN.”
“Yes, within minutes of the nuke test he began his tirade about defending himself from ‘evil forces.’ There is no doubt that he was speaking of us.”
The phone began blinking. General Alabbar’s voice came from the speaker. “We believe the missile is an IRBM. It is difficult to confirm as up until now they did not possess one of these. We only know that they were attempting to develop one. It does appear to be larger than the Shahab-3. ETA is now twenty-three minutes. You would need to give the order in twenty-one minutes to intercept successfully.”
The bad news arrived before midnight.
Landenberger was busy working on the details of Operation OMAN with the generals at the Pentagon and it was getting late when the call came in from the Intel Division. Bumgardner received the call on his personal encrypted line. As he listened he rubbed his eyes and wiped his brow with a handkerchief. Perspiration ran down his forehead. “Put it on the screen in the WHSR.”
Landenberger sensed his distress immediately. “What’s going on?”
He turned to the president stunned with the news. “The Iranians are massing troops at its border.”
Suddenly the room was a flurry of activity and info gathering. Steven Prottenger, Costano and Deshano got on their phones and frantically began making calls. The military brass began placing intel on the overheads. Screen three showed the massing of the troops all headed toward the border, aircraft were being deployed from Tehran on two, and the aircraft carriers at sea had departed from the usual routine on six.
“All hell is breaking loose,” muttered Landenberger. “SOMEONE TELL ME WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!”
Bumgardner said, “Your guess is as good as mine. It could be anything from a practice drill to a full-scale invasion of some sort.”
The president looked at the screens. “What do you think, Houston? Are they invading Iraq?”
“It would make no sense. They know our bases are there. It is not their style to be confrontational on a large scale like this. They know we can put up one hell of a fight if they crossed the border and they would end up with a bloody nose.”
Landenberger watched a new blip appear on the screen. “What is that?”
Deshano and Prottenger knew the answer and exclaimed in unison, “They have launched a missile!”
“My God!” The president watched it moving across the screen. Is this the beginning of Armageddon?
Costanzo saw the blip and instantly deduced the target. “It is headed directly for Jerusalem! THE TARGET IS JERUSULEM!”
And it was only yesterday they announced that they were going to defend themselves from evil forces. “This makes no sense. They could not have a nuke on it.”
“Or could they?” Deshano wondered. “They could purchase one from the North Koreans….”
“Or the Russians…,” added Robinson
“Not likely,” countered Bumgardner. “We would have seen the activity in our intel. No they haven’t purchased any nukes. We would have seen anything like that long before now.”
“OK then,” Landenberger wondered out loud, “we don’t believe they have a nuke. So why are we seeing a missile aimed at Jerusalem? It is no accident it is headed for Jerusalem. It would be like asking ‘why are those two commercial aircraft headed toward the twin towers.’ It is not an accident.”
Another phone call came in from intel. “We believe the missile is not a Shahab II or III. It is larger and is probably the IRBM they have been working on recently.”