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James Rosone, Miranda Watson

Operation Red Dragon and the Unthinkable

Disclaimer

This book is fictional in nature. Any resemblance to persons or events in actual existence is merely coincidental. The views expressed in the book are the views held by the characters, and are not reflective of the authors’ personal views.

The Day that Changed the Nation

Day Twenty-One
19 December 2040, Late Afternoon
New York Harbor, New York
Freighter Zulu Warrior

Captain Omar Hammadi and his crew of eight had volunteered for this suicide mission…. they would deliver the first of two of Allah’s Swords against the Americans. They were originally going to target Houston and the oil refining centers; then their orders were changed by the Caliph himself. He told the men that he had had a vision, and that their new target would be Manhattan and New York Harbor.

As someone who had served in the Iranian Navy for years, Captain Hammadi was pleased with the change in orders due to the greater tactical advantage of the new target. However, he did have concerns about the increased risk in potentially being detected before they reached their final position. He didn’t want anything to stop him from fulfilling his legacy of destroying the infidels. The 50 kiloton nuclear warhead they were carrying below the deck of their ship could be set to detonate by timer or by manual control; Captain Hammadi had one of his engineers wire the trigger device directly to the bridge so that he could personally be the one that unleashed Allah’s Sword on the unrighteous Americans.

As they joined the queue of freighters waiting to enter the Hudson River, the crew played along with the Harbor Master’s rules, waiting their turn to be inspected before they could proceed. After nearly three days of waiting, they had finally received notification for their ship to move into the next inspection queue. The Coast Guard announced, “Come to a complete stop, and wait to be contacted for your inspection.”

Captain Hammadi started to feel nervous. The freighter was so close to their intended target; they were less than 6 miles away, yet it felt like a million miles away. Hammadi had been assured that the device was heavily shielded and should not set off any radiological detectors or other devices. It was also buried under several tons of coffee beans, to ensure it would not be detected by a boarding party. Despite these assurances, Hammadi’s heart was still racing. He was concerned they would be discovered before they were able to get close enough to their intended target. If they had to detonate the warhead in their current position, they would still cause catastrophic damage, but it was nothing in comparison to what would happen if they managed to reach their goal. The maximum potential carnage would be reached if they could position their ship near the I-75 Bridge that connected lower Manhattan and Jersey City.

As the minutes turned into hours, they waited for the Coast Guard to board their ship. Hammadi’s palpitations became one step shy of a full blown panic attack; his palms were sweaty, his breathing became labored, and his thoughts were steadily racing. Time continued dragging along at a snail’s pace while his internal urgency kept increasing. He finally decided that the boat was close enough that if he creeped into the harbor and then gunned it, he could get to his intended target before anyone could do anything to stop them. The Captain informed the crew of his decision, and they all conducted one last prayer before getting the ship and the device ready to go.

Their plan appeared to be working. They had not been hailed by the harbor master or the Coast Guard yet, and they had just made it under the I-278 bridge. It was at this moment they received a hail from the Coast Guard, “Stop your ship and prepare to be boarded!”

The Captain and his men quickly spotted the small cutter heading their way, but they did not appear to have any heavy weapons on them other than a 20mm cannon and a couple of .50 cals. This was more than enough firepower to disable their ship, but not if Hammadi acted quickly.

“Full speed ahead!” Captain Hammadi ordered. He prayed he would be able to get close enough before the Coast Guard ship decided to engage them or could disable their vessel.

Suddenly, an urgent voice filled the bridge, “Zulu Warrior, Zulu Warrior, this is Lieutenant Willis of the US Coast Guard. Stop your ship and prepare to be inspected! Acknowledge.”

The ship was nearly to full speed, and they had just passed the Statue of Liberty on their left and Battery Park on their right. The radio came to life again, “Zulu Warrior, Zulu Warrior, stop your ship and prepare to be boarded. If you do not comply, we will fire and disable your vessel. Acknowledge!”

Hammadi continued to ignore their desperate pleas for him to recognize their warnings. He could see the Coast Guard ship repositioning themselves so they could have a better angle to shoot, angling their propulsion and engine room to the rear. At that moment, the I-75 bridge moved into sight. Captain Hammadi grasped the detonator in his right hand, and as he depressed the button, he let out one last, “Allahu Akbar.”

Lower Manhattan

Jeremiah Nolen was a rising star at JP Morgan. He had made it to the “big leagues” as a trader, and over the past two years had built his book of business to over $192.3 Million dollars. With his new promotion from Senior Advisor to Vice President, he felt that he had finally arrived: bigger commissions, company stock options, and a bigger piece of the action. He was handling the higher net worth clients now. He had made his clients a lot of money by buying railroad stocks, which had gone through the roof with the increased demand the war was placing on the manufacturing sector. He had also made several smart investments with a couple of companies that provided very specific component parts to the new Pershing tanks and the Razorback helicopters, the two most in-demand items of the War.

As Jeremiah looked out the window of his corner office, he reveled in the fact that he had finally moved out of cubicle land. Suddenly, the late afternoon became incredibly bright. Something powerful reflected off the building windows across from his office, forcing him to bring his hands up to his eyes to protect them as he turned his head. His metal and plastic chair quickly fell apart, dropping him to the floor. He looked down at his hands to see his skin liquefy and melt right before him, right before his body drifted into unconsciousness. The super heat generated from the nuclear device caused the structure of the building to liquefy; the structure imploded on itself and then dispersed into a million pieces of flying debris as the shockwave of the blast slammed into the expanding inferno. Jeremiah’s hopes and dreams vanished into an untraceable film of radioactive dust.

Jersey City

Lisa Thomas was shopping at the neighborhood Whole Foods grocery store with her two-year-old daughter, waiting in the checkout lane. Like all rambunctious two year olds, her daughter was trying to pull at the candy and gum to add other items into the cart as her mother was placing them on the belt for the checkout lady. As Lisa reached down to pick up something that her daughter had dropped off of the floor, there suddenly appeared a bright flash near the entrance to the store. Thinking it must have been lightning for a brief moment, she placed the dropped item back where it belonged. Seconds later, the entire front wall of the store shattered, sending thousands of shards of glass flying into the store. Then the structure of the store imploded, and everyone at the cashier stations were thrown like rag dolls against the aisles from the several hundred mile per hour winds. Lisa was swiftly impaled on part of the structure of the building; the last thought she had before everything went black was of her daughter.