An industrialized town, Rasht had begun to fall out of favor with the religious authorities as their culture of consumerism seemed far too western for clerical comfort. With modern hotels and hundreds of tourist attractions, Rasht was becoming a favorite international tourist destination that attracted thousands of Austrians, Germans, Dutch, French, Australians and Japanese each year.
It was also a comparatively open city that seemed to look the other way as Christian house churches sprang up with a touch of evangelical fervor, especially in the suburbs of Golsar.
The Iranian Supreme Court had been considering the fate of Pastor Khani after the provincial court convicted him of apostasy and sentenced him to death. Even the Supreme Leader had grown agitated to learn that perhaps more than 100,000 Christians were living — and growing — in Iran.
Rasht was getting out of control. With seven universities, a thriving media, multiple cinemas and musical concert halls, Rasht was too cosmopolitan. Modesty was at risk in Rasht.
The helicopter carrying the SkitoMister touched down on the outskirts of Golsar and was quickly loaded onto a maintenance truck. The helicopter crew carried a fiberglass tank full of liquid and hooked it up to the SkitoMister.
With a technician in the back, the truck drove down several specific streets in Golsar, streets that had been identified by the MISIRI, the Ministry of Intelligence and National Security of the Islamic Republic of Iran, as being suitable for pesticide application.
Captain Brady Kenton and “Kate” watched from above as the truck spent less than 20 minutes in Golsar. Three intelligence officers from Mossad, Shin Bet and Aman watched similar images they were receiving from the Ofek 9 in their Tel Aviv monitoring stations. A surveillance satellite could observe a site for only a few minutes at a time given the complexities of orbit distance and speed. But “Kate” and all of her collegial drones could loiter for hours at high altitude and send a continuous video feed of the people working on the ground. “Kate” delivered the complete pattern of life, giving critical clues of the work being done, the equipment being used and the people on the ground.
Almost as fast as it began, the maintenance operation was over. An entire tank had been dispersed and Captain Brady Kenton watched the SkitoMister get loaded back on the helicopter for the return flight to Damghan.
Kenton followed the chopper all the way back to the warehouse. Hovering 30,000 feet over the Damghan warehouse, Kenton became amused. A man appeared to be out in the field next to the warehouse, and he was flying a gas-powered remote-controlled airplane. “Kate” watched the man take the four-foot winged craft on high banks, barrel rolls, steep dives, and vertical climbs. The man was incredibly skilled, and it brought back memories of when US Air Force Captain Kenton was just “little Brady,” flying his airplanes and gliders in the grass fields near Lake Winnebago in Oshkosh, Wisconsin. Brady grew up an experimental aviation nut. Captain Brady Kenton watched the incredible toy fly for a few more minutes before he and “Kate” needed to head back to Kandahar, Afghanistan.
The man in the field brought his airplane in for a landing as the helicopter touched down, and the SkitoMister was rolled into the warehouse.
Captain Kenton pulled “Kate” up and turned her east toward Afghanistan. They had only been flying a few minutes when something happened. Somewhere in the mountains between Neyshabir and Mashhad, Brady lost control of his drone. “Kate” disappeared.
“Brady… Kate just dropped off our screen… you still got her?” Colonel Abrams asked from the TOC at Creech Air Force Base in Indian Springs, Nevada.
Brady was frantically working his stick and resetting computer images.
“Roger that, sir, still working it. Kate seems to have lost her connection with the GPS satellite. Stand by.”
The video feed from Kate was intermittent, but clearly she was descending and getting closer to the two mountain ranges of Binalood and Haser-Masjed. She was too close.
“Talk to me, Captain Kenton,” Abrams yelled as he stood with greater urgency.
“I have no controls, repeat, I have no control over Kate.”
“What the hell? Has she been hit?”
“Negative, sir, she is disconnected. Sir, she’s on auto-pilot. She’s landing herself.”
Seconds later the video feed was gone. Kate laid in three pieces on the ground in the most level place she could find in the Binalood mountains of northeastern Iran.
The Ofek 9 sent Kate’s photograph to Tel Aviv where the three intelligence officers stared at this technological wonder in amazement. Special Agent Daniels and Agent Fallon Jessup ran down the corridors of Langley to brief the Director as phones around the world were dialed and picked up simultaneously.
“Get me the SECDEF’s office now!” Colonel Abrams screamed as combat pilot and US Air Force Captain Brady Kenton unbuckled himself from his tan leather swivel office chair, stepped back and ejected from the virtual debris.
25
ISAF Headquarters
Kabul, Afghanistan
General Ferguson, US Navy Captain “Camp” Campbell and Billy Finn were positioned and waiting for the video conference call connection to the Pentagon. Whatever Secretary of Defense Pennington wanted to talk about, it must have been important because the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs was joining the call as well.
“Mister Secretary, I’m joined by Captain Campbell and retired FBI special agent Finn,” Ferguson said as the video feed came to life.
“Jim, we’ve got a big problem, an international situation,” SECDEF Pennington began. “Our classified drone, the RQ-170 Sentinel crash landed an hour ago in northeastern Iran.”
“Hostile fire?” Ferguson pressed.
“We don’t think so, but we’re looking at a technological glitch with the guidance satellite as probable cause. Jim, the Israelis are going bat-shit. Their Ofek 9 has been tracking the events in Bourvari District and now this. They also got hi-res images of the crashed drone. They want some explanations.”
“How can I help, sir?” Ferguson asked.
“Get your team to Tel Aviv as soon as possible. Tell the Israelis everything you know. Be candid with them but keep them calm. We don’t want to trigger a damn war over this. Undersecretary Miller is working with the Knesset and the Prime Minister’s office. CIA is sending Daniels and a gal named Jessup to meet with Mossad. I need you to brief Aman and Shin Bet.”
“Affirmative, sir, we’ll keep your office posted.”
Camp raised his hand to make sure the call wasn’t prematurely ended.
“Secretary Pennington?” Camp asked.
“Yes, captain.”
“What about the drone, sir? If the Ofek 9 could track her and photograph her that means we’ve still got a good signal on her. Are you planning to destroy the drone before the Iranians find her?”
“That’s above your pay-grade captain. We’ve presented three options to the president, and that’ll be his call and his alone to make.”
“Sir? What are those options?”
Pennington seemed perturbed. Even the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs thought the Navy O-6 was out of his lane.
“Send in a covert mission to destroy it, send over another drone to blow it up with a hellfire missile, or let it be.”
“Sir, what’s the realistic window for any of those options?” Camp pushed.
“This is the latest stealth technology, Captain Campbell. This is a top secret military weapon. We’ll do everything in our power to make sure that this technology is not compromised,” Pennington said.