The assistant secretary of state had a finger in the air as he nodded agreement. “The Israelis want to keep a hot line to our conclusions and information.”
“Agreed, but only if the channels are airtight,” the president said. “How would Tehran know any of this, James?”
“The communication between the crew and their Chicago headquarters was on open channel cell phone, a phone collected from a passenger. God only knows who picked it up, but the story has already broken worldwide as a suspected hijack, which it isn’t.”
“Why can’t the pilots control the airplane?” The president asked again, looking from face to face. “Is there something I don’t know? I didn’t think it was possible to remotely hijack an airliner like that. In fact, that’s exactly why…” the president stopped himself and waved away the rest of whatever he was going to say.
“It isn’t possible, as far as we know…” James Bergen began again, acutely aware that the air force colonel and navy admiral were saying nothing and everyone was wondering what statement the chief executive had choked off. “But that’s what the crew has reported.”
“You think the airplane has been turned into some sort of remotely controlled instrument… controlled from the ground, for instance?” The president asked.
The CIA director glanced back at his deputy, and Walter picked up the answer.
“We have no reason to believe, at present, that this Airbus A330 is capable of that sort of remote control, sir. The A330 is a complicated, electronic airliner, but the pilots can always override the autoflight system.”
“And yet they haven’t… or they claim they haven’t, right?”
“Correct. But we’ve run backgrounds on all the crewmembers, and there’s no indication of any potential compromised loyalty. The captain is an ex-US Navy fighter pilot.”
“Are there any weapons aboard?” the president asked.
“Mossad says no… they routinely scanned the bird on taxi out with a neutron scanner. But… there is a cargo igloo—a pod—aboard, and Pangia Airways seems to be having trouble finding the manifest.”
“I’m a pilot, remember? I know the Airbus A330, and it doesn’t have bomb dropping ability. A cargo pod would be useless as an external weapon.”
“Yes, sir, but there’s always a worry that something explosive could have been sneaked aboard in that cargo pod, something that could explode the aircraft.”
“Evidence?”
“Not yet.”
“Okay, what are we scared of, gentlemen, other than losing a plane full of passengers… not to make light of that, even though, to tell the truth, losing Moishe Lavi would probably be a godsend for world peace.”
“Sir, in the broader picture, we’ve got to consider the possibility that somehow this aircraft is being pressed into a mission that could involve Lavi’s repeatedly stated intentions to either launch a first strike on Tehran or provoke an attack that would force an Israeli nuclear response.”
The president of the United States looked incredulously at his CIA team and then searched the eyes of the rest of the men in the room.
“Seriously?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’re telling me the pilots are loyal, and there’s no way to control this airplane from the ground, and there’s no nuclear material on board, but you’re expecting it to head for Tehran and by looking like a threat, trigger a strike on Israel which would trigger a nuclear response and a Mideast Armageddon? Are we serving hard liquor in here?”
Much to Walt’s relief, the air force colonel came alive. “Mr. President, if that aircraft heads for Tehran with Moishe Lavi aboard they could be flying a Cessna 172 and the Iranians would use it as an excuse to go ballistic. Perhaps literally.”
A long sigh marked the end of the president’s attention.
“Okay, I get that. Get me more facts, guys. I assume you have no recommendations for me at present and we do have some time?”
“Yes sir, we have a couple of hours, and no, sir, we have no immediate recommendations,” James Bergen responded. “Not CIA, at least.”
“Nor the Joint Chiefs, sir,” the admiral chimed in. “At least, not yet.”
The president stood and grinned as he looked at the two uniformed officers. “You fellows also representing DIA in this visit?”
“Not really, sir. We’re reporting for the Joint Chiefs.”
“But… you and DIA and CIA are playing nice, right?” The president swept his eyes back and forth between CIA’s James Bergen and DIA’s General Richard Penick. “No one’s playing games with the information or strategically timing the release of anything to me, right?”
“No, sir,” they said practically in unison.
“Okay. Because to make a lighthearted reference to a very serious subject, I get really cranky when that happens. Don’t forget we’re on the same team. Summon me back down here when you’ve something to recommend, the first lady’s wrath notwithstanding. Meanwhile, I’ll be in the east wing looking appropriately enthralled.” The president turned, then turned back with a finger in the air. “Wait… that’s not fair. I dearly love and respect both Carlos Santana and Yo-Yo Ma. Just… together?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Cockpit, Pangia 10 (0020 Zulu)
“Goddammit, you talk to them!” Jerry tossed the commandeered satellite phone toward his copilot in deep disgust, and Dan had to lunge to the left to catch it in mid-air. “As far as they’re concerned, if the book doesn’t say it’s there, it isn’t!”
The passenger who’d finally volunteered the satellite phone had held out on them at first, apparently afraid of running up a big bill. But the “can’t fly the airplane” part of Jerry’s PA had changed his mind, and at last they’d scored a steady signal. Dan cleared his throat and raised the phone to his ear, taking care to keep the extendable antenna in the forward window as he identified himself and waited for a reply.
“Dan, this is the maintenance director. The captain was telling us there’s a metal cabinet in the electronics bay, and obviously, if it’s there, it’s there, but we’re completely puzzled back here because according to our information on this bird, there are no cabinets or large enclosures in that compartment. Are there any decals or placards on the side of it?”
“No. I looked carefully,” Dan replied, describing the cabinet. “The thing shocked the hell out of me and knocked me out briefly when I tried to open the side of it. I’m pretty sure that’s a security defense system. Plus, I can tell you it’s firmly attached and engineered into that part of the electronics bay… not just something sitting there loose.” He described the cables running in and out and his growing suspicion that every electronic control in the cockpit had been shunted to whatever was in the box.
“So… in your opinion, that box is not something that could have been added on a quick turnaround or in an hour or so?”
“Hell, no!” Dan said. “The sheer volume of the cables running into the front of this thing along the floor and the solid construction of it means it would have taken major downtime to get it installed, and there would had to have been all sorts of disassembly and reassembly in a maintenance hangar somewhere. I mean, we’re talking weeks, probably! Has she been on the ground somewhere for that long out of our control?”
“We’re checking, Dan. We’ve got our ship routing department as well as the A330 team on another line from Toulouse, and they’re just as mystified as we are. They say there’s never been anything like the cabinet you’re describing engineered into one of their birds, not just the ones they’ve built for us.”