“So this was what all the deception was about. This is what this whole sham in North Korea was meant to do,” Terry said incredulously. “Seize the Strait—”
“And gain control of eighty percent of the world’s oil supply,” Brodie finished for him. “Furthermore, the Russians followed up this letter to the UN with an announcement that they are extending their nuclear defense shield over the Islamic Republic. In effect, guaranteeing Iran that should any nation use strategic weapons against them, the Russians will respond in kind.”
“Mother fuck,” Ski whispered in anger. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he added with venom in his voice.
“Crude,” Brodie said with a hint of similar anger and bitterness. “But it sums up the situation succinctly. The Russians have used petropolitics in the past, and they’ve apparently been planning this little operation for some time as an attempt to gain a near monopoly on the world’s energy needs, and if we don’t act quickly, they may very well get away with it.”
The image advanced to a satellite photograph of a boat moving through the open water. “This is an Iranian Vosper Mark-5 frigate built forty years ago by our British cousins when Iran was run by the Shah.” He pointed toward the rear of the boat. “Although old, she’s fast and armed with state-of-the-art anti-ship missiles provided by our Chinese friends, and although she’s no threat to us, she’s photographed here with over fifty mines on her deck seeding the Strait of Hormuz.”
The images advanced through five more satellite images showing ship after ship similar to the previous one all dropping mines. “The Iranians currently have eleven surface ships rolling mines into the Persian Gulf as fast as they possibly can. Plus, we’ve additional evidence of aircraft also deploying mines, creating a massive barrier across the Strait. This is in addition to the extensive minefield they already had seeded in their own home waters.”
“This is like a damn nightmare,” Terry whispered to Kristen seated next to him. He then asked, “Do they really think they can get away with this?”
“For the moment, they are getting away with it,” Brodie replied matter of factly.
“But once our heavies get back in the area, we can wipe them off that peninsula in a day,” Ski offered. “It doesn’t make any sense.”
Brodie stood calmly, but Kristen noticed his jaw twitching slightly, indicating either anger or frustration. Neither of which could be good at the moment considering the situation. He motioned toward Graves, who advanced to the next image. Everyone stared at it, not quite certain what they were seeing. It looked like an area of coastline with some underwater ridges visible as dark shadows on the satellite image. He motioned to Graves, who showed the next photo which was a close up of the previous photograph showing the series of ridges a little better. Kristen recognized the ominous dark shadow in the image and unconsciously bit her lip.
“There she is,” Kristen whispered.
“Who?” Terry asked, not having recognized the shape. “There who is?”
Brodie nodded and a closer image appeared. Everyone now saw the clear dark silhouette of a submerged submarine in shallow water taken during daylight. “This image was taken three days ago in the Persian Gulf well within Iranian territorial waters.”
The room had turned deathly silent as the officers stared at the imposing image. “The CIA, the NRO, the DIA, and MI-6 all agree that this is the Borei.” Brodie directed their attention to the ominous shape. “She’s significantly smaller than the old Typhoons but is still pretty big at around five hundred fifty feet and near fifteen thousand tons. As built, she’s designed to carry sixteen Bulava submarine-launched ballistic missiles each with six warheads and a range of about five thousand miles. But what we don’t know is what she’s doing there. The Persian Gulf is at most three hundred feet deep and averages about one fifty, which is a duck pond for a submarine like the Borei designed to hide in the open ocean.”
Kristen removed her glasses and rubbed her burning eyes, truly sick to her stomach. It was a perfect storm. When she looked back up she saw that Brodie was staring right at her.
“Lieutenant?”
“Sir, what are the chances the Russians sold the Borei to the Islamic Republic?” she asked. “I mean if they did, it would explain it being in Iranian waters. If the Iranians control access in and out of the Strait, then the Borei could sit in the Persian Gulf indefinitely, sink down into the sand and be perfectly safe.” She then added, “I mean there’s no chance of her being found by an airborne search aircraft.”
Brodie nodded his congratulations to her. “That’s what the CIA believes has indeed happened. Adding to the nightmare, is satellite imagery showing Bulova missile crates being loaded onto a cargo ship in Bandar-e-Abbas.”
“The Russians would never sell a nuclear missile to the Iranians,” Terry thought out loud. “Even they aren’t that reckless.”
“Perhaps,” Brodie admitted, “but the National Command Authority cannot risk an outright assault on Iran unless we know for certain the Borei isn’t carrying anything more deadly than a torpedo or…”
“Or what, sir?” Martin asked.
“The Borei is destroyed,” Kristen answered.
Brodie nodded solemnly. “Although there is no conclusive evidence the Borei is now armed with strategic missiles, as things stand right now we cannot assume she isn’t. All evidence makes it clear the Russians have gone all in on this play while at the same time trying to at least appear to be staying out of it. There is no doubt, considering the Federation’s immediate recognition of the Islamic Republic’s acquisition of the Musandam Peninsula and then the extension of their nuclear umbrella to include Iran, that they are in this up to their necks and probably orchestrating the entire thing.”
Ryan Walcott adjusted his seat nervously before asking, “Is there any evidence the Iranians have successfully developed their own nuclear bomb? If so, they could have simply placed their warhead in a Russian rocket.”
“There’s no evidence of any nuclear tests by Iran. Although the CIA believes it’s possible they could use other warheads with perhaps a dirty bomb or maybe some chemical agent.” Brodie ran a hand through his mop of hair and stressed, “But they’re really guessing on all of this with no concrete information.” He then reminded everyone, “For all we know the boat has empty launch tubes, and they’re hoping to scare us with the possibility of a nuclear strike capability, so we think twice before responding and going in there guns blazing.”
The gamble the Iranians were taking was enormous, but so would be the payoff if they succeeded. They could blackmail the free world.
“We don’t know what else the Russians may have sold them, or if the Russians will try to play both sides of the fence and use their own subs to help the Iranians protect the Strait from our intervention. The USS Virginia is the closest boat and is somewhere in the vicinity of the Strait as we speak. Her current mission is to keep an eye on the Iranians and protect any American-flagged vessels in the event of any aggressive move by our Iranian friends.”
Brodie looked at Graves. “Jason, you know the skipper of the Virginia, don’t you?”
“Jim Berryman,” Graves answered with a confident nod of his head. “We were stationed together for two years. Good skipper,” he added. “No nonsense. He’s the guy we want in there scouting for us if we have to go in, Captain.”