Shift Commander Lieutenant Colonel Abrams walked in and took the seat next to Captain Kenton briefly.
“Brady, we just received a special joint mission request from the SECDEF and Langley.”
“Pakistan?” Kenton asked eagerly hoping to get some heat drops on a special Al Qaeda target or two.
“Negative. Kate’s going over Iran.”
“Whoa,” Kenton said as he quickly punched up Iranian maps and topography on his computer screens. “Nukes?”
“Bio. Special Ops got a tracking beacon on a machine they think the Iranians might want for aerosolizing a biological weapon. The satellites picked up the device in Damghan.”
Kenton quickly honed in on Damghan.
“North 36, east 54, got it. Chemical and biological weapons production facilities. Bet you didn’t know this, colonel,” Brady Kenton said with schoolyard delight.
“School me.”
“Damghan is the pistachio nut capital of Iran, in the Khorasan Province,” Captain Kenton said as he read from his computer screen.
“One of many nuts in the area I’m sure. I need a flight plan by 0830 and Kate in the skies by 0900.”
“Roger that, sir.”
Kenton developed his flight plan based on the most recent tracking from the birds in orbit. It would take less than 90 minutes for Kate to get to high altitude and beyond Iran’s rather advanced radar systems and reach Damghan where the machine appeared to be stationary and parked in a warehouse. Kenton was excited. He had never flown over Iran before.
Careful not to fly over Turkmenistan, Kenton flew the RQ-170 Sentinel over Herat and Gurian before flying over the Iran-Afghanistan border, up toward Mashhad and then almost directly down over Highway 44 and into Damghan.
Kenton checked his satellite imagery one more time before allowing Kate to track on to the signal. He blinked twice and refreshed his screen. The target was moving.
“Colonel, are you seeing this?” Captain Kenton said into his headset as Colonel Abrams was watching the same thing in the Tactical Operations Center two buildings down on Creech.
“Roger, the target’s moving too fast for ground, looks like she’s getting a lift.”
“Sir, I’ve got it heading south, by southwest at 140 miles per hour.”
“Helicopter,” Abrams confirmed.
“Slowing down now, sir and… stopping. Looks to be a rural area between Khomein and Aligoodarz.”
“Brady, we’ve got an intel officer looking at the area now, stand by…” Abrams said as his computer screen came to life with information from the intelligence officer on duty. “Five small villages… Dehno, Khorzend, Farajabad, Bahmanabad and Sangesfid. The area is called the Bourvari.”
“Anything significant?” Brady asked.
“Maybe, hard to tell, but these are all Persian-Armenian settlements.”
“And that’s somehow important, colonel?”
“They’re Christians, Brady… not a great country to be living as a non-Muslim, if you know what I mean.”
Captain Kenton and Kate circled above the Bourvari for 20 minutes. The video images from Kate were fed to the TOC at Creech for Abrams and his team to watch as Special Agent Daniels and Agent Fallon Jessup watched the same video feed from a CIA command center at Langley.
“Sir, you seeing this?” Brady asked as Abrams, Daniels and Jessup all listened to the anxiety in Brady’s voice. “The machine is on a truck and appears to be driving up and down the village streets.”
“Roger that, looks like the village of Dehno. Can we get the camera in closer?”
“We’re getting a view that feels like 2,000 feet up, sir. Can’t get any better optics unless I take Kate down closer.”
Lieutenant Colonel Abrams stood and took aggressive command in the TOC.
“I need some close range satellite optics. Give me the radar ceiling in the area.”
Abrams reviewed the information on his computer screen seconds after he asked for it.
“Negative Brady, Kate needs to fly high on this first one. We’re just observing today.”
Abrams received a still satellite photo that sucked the wind out of his lungs. The image looked straight down on top of what appeared to be a maintenance truck. The vantage point could have been from the top of an oak tree, if it weren’t for the fact that it was a military camera on a spy satellite.
Three intelligence officers had also gathered in a joint command center at the headquarters of the Directorate of Military Intelligence in Tel Aviv as they watched the same Iranian event unfold through images from their Ofek 9 military spy satellite. The officers were from Agaf Ha Modi’in, otherwise called Aman, as well as Mossad and Shin Bet. Aman was tasked with Israeli military intelligence; Shin Bet handled internal security; and Mossad handled intelligence collection and covert operations. Launched from Palmachim Air Force base on Israel’s coast south of Tel Aviv in 2007, the Ofek 9 had a high resolution camera second to none in the world.
Ofek 9 could clearly see the man in the back of the maintenance vehicle spraying a light mist from a tank of fluid as local children played in the mist and chased the truck passing up and down the dusty roads of the Bourvari villages. The camera resolution on the Ofek 9 was so clear that each of the Israeli intelligence officers wrote down the same word on their paper tablets at the exact same time: SkitoMister.
Lieutenant Colonel Abrams and Captain Brady Kenton sat captivated by the video feed from Kate as Kenton flew the drone.
“Okay captain, let’s take Kate home.”
Kenton pulled back on the stick and took off for Kandahar with intermittent thoughts of Chinese carryout when his combat mission was over. It was, in fact, Tuesday he reminded himself.
U.S. Embassy
Ashgabat, Turkmenistan
The sedan carrying US Navy Captain “Camp” Campbell and Billy Finn pulled up in front of the Embassy at Number 9 1984 Street. Formerly named Pushkin Street when Soviet influence permeated the capital, the American Embassy was understated but efficient.
“Some things never change in the former Soviet bloc,” Finn said as they passed through the gate complex watching the same unmarked car park on the other side of 1984 Street. “You look good today, Camp. Get some sleep, a beer and a hot shower?”
“I look good because you can see my gorgeous face again. Felt great to finally shave the jihad beard.”
As promised, Undersecretary Miller had cleared Ambassador Annette Pfister’s calendar for Camp and Finn. She had been briefed on the rail shipment from the Kirov Oblast down the Trans-Siberian, over to the Trans-Caspian railway and into Ashgabat. Their 9:30am meeting would be a brief get-acquainted session before they would be joined by the Deputy Ministers of Railways and Trade for Turkmenistan and their entourage.
The Ambassador’s scheduler entered the office where the three were having coffee and swapping stories about where they all grew up in America.
“Madam Ambassador, the Deputy Ministers and their staff are seated in the conference room.”
After a few social courtesies, Ambassador Pfister got down to business.
“Allow me to start first with the railways. I sent a letter of request to Minister Seyitgulyyew earlier this week. I hope you have some information for us.”
The Deputy Minister of Railways had never been to the US Embassy before and couldn’t speak a lick of English other than “movie English.” He spoke through a translator.
“Madam Ambassador, we routinely receive freight and rail shipments from all parts of Russia, including the Kirov Oblast. The shipment in question was transported on the Trans-Siberian from Kirov to Koshagyl, Russia. It passed through Kazakhstan where it was transferred to the Trans-Caspian railway, and was rerouted in Beyneu, and then down to Bekdash where it was placed on a cargo vessel, crossed the Caspian inlet and then here to Ashgabat. It was more than 3,700 kilometers for the trip and perhaps a three day transport with switching.”