Authors: Jack - Seals 05 Terral
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11 SEPTEMBER 0630 HOURS
JOPLIN and Peled, enjoying the relative coolness of the early morning, strolled through the woods a few dozen yards away from the house. Both men were dressed for the occasion, wearing light jackets, blue jeans, and sneakers. They had consumed continental breakfasts with plenty of coffee, and both were buoyed by heavy doses of caffeine.
Joplin knew that the reason his Israeli counterpart had requested the meeting at the Farm had to be of great import. But the man's attitude indicated there were no critical elements of urgency or time constraints involved. Or it could be that perhaps his people didn't want to give the Americans the opportunity to respond too quickly to whatever information he had to pass on. The Israelis were independent thinkers and doers, and did not appreciate nor seek any critiques of their various projects.
Peled had picked up a thin branch on the ground and walked with it, idly swinging it back and forth. Another five minutes of the stroll continued; then he checked his watch. Now was the time to get down to business.
"I am sure you are familiar with a certain Iranian Special Forces camp, Carl. In fact, we are informed that you have scored a victory of sorts on the border between Iran and Afghanistan."
Joplin smiled. "Tell me, Avigdor: Is there any place at all in this world where the Mossad does not have agents?"
Peled chuckled. "I know of none."
"Then you are aware that our aims there were fully met," Joplin said. "And, although it is not yet announced publicly, I am sure I would not surprise you if I said the Iranians are now ready to negotiate everything we've demanded of them."
"Yes," the Israeli said. "We are aware of those conditions. However--"
Joplin interrupted. "Uh-oh! Whenever you say 'however' I know you're going to lower the boom."
"We have irrefutable intelligence that Tehran has no serious intentions of negotiating anything with you," Peled said. "In fact, they are about to show their worst side to America, the world, and to us."
"What are our Persian antagonists going to do now?"
"They are going to invade Afghanistan," Peled said. "They backed off from that series of battles they had engaged in with your SEALs because they finally realized they would gain no advantages from the situation. Even now they have gathered leftover East German armor, artillery, and munitions to make a big strike that will carry them deep into that poor, backward country."
"How soon is this supposed to happen?" Joplin asked.
"We estimate that around the last of September or the first of October," Peled replied.
"Your revelation will be much appreciated," Joplin said. "If we move fast enough we'll be able to meet them head on."
"That won't be necessary," Peled said. He stopped walking and turned to face his friend. "We are going to bomb that camp. We'll be concentrating our strikes on the recently arrived military hardware assembled for the invasion."
"Oh, God!"
"The Iranians have gotten quite sassy since our confrontation with their Hezbollah stepchildren. The sons of bitches seem to think they won a great victory in Lebanon."
Joplin knew this would both please and displease the American government. He nervously cleared his throat. "Ahem. Please go on, Avigdor."
"We are going to fly into Iran's sovereign territory and plaster the treacherous bastards billeted at that camp," Peled remarked matter-of-factly. "We are going to pound them into smoking charcoal. And that information, dear Carl, is why I came to the Farm. Now you know. Please do us the favor of informing the President of the United States."
"I do believe he will be interested," Carl said, recovering slightly from the shock. "May I tell him the exact date and time that you plan this air strike?"
"That information we will keep to ourselves," Peled said. "Now! The matter is closed and is not open for negotiations or discussion." He gestured forward with the branch. "Shall we continue our stroll?"
"I really must get back to Washington, Avigdor."
The Israeli laughed. "I am not surprised."
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OVAL OFFICE WHITE HOUSE
1500 HOURS
THE Aladdin Committee had been dissolved. The mysterious informer had made no transmissions for several weeks, and since the Iranians had now shown a much better attitude, the group was dismissed as per an executive order. The big item for that afternoon's impromptu session was to discuss the intelligence passed on to Carl Joplin by the Israelis earlier that morning.
The President of the United States was not happy. He looked at Joplin with near pleading in his eyes. "Isn't there a damn thing we can do about this aerial attack, Carl?"
"I'm afraid not, Mr. President," the career diplomat answered. "That East German weaponry has convinced them that the fall of Afghanistan would be the first step in a long war that would eventually reach the borders of Israel."
The four others in the office--Arlene Entienne; Edgar Watson of the CIA; Liam Bentley, the FBI Liaison Officer; and Secretary of State Benjamin Bellingham--shared the chief executive's concern.
"It would be better if we could contact the Iranians and warn them," the President said. "If they found out we had diverted a bombing of their sovereign territory it would be a great incentive for them to be more cooperative."
"Yes!" Bellingham agreed. "It would convince them of the benefits of friendlier relations with the United States."
Joplin shook his head. "I don't think that will happen."
"I still don't like this bombardment," the President insisted. "You've proven in the past that you have contacts galore. Surely there is
someone somewhere
who can
somehow
call this Israeli air raid off."
"I'm sorry, sir," Joplin said. "The Israelis timed the revelation so that we would not have any feasible opportunities to circumvent their plans. They are bound and determined to get that particular thorn out of their sides. They think this is necessary to stifle any misleading feelings of triumph the Iranians may have because of their positive relationship with Hezbollah. The Israeli population is unhappy with the way their government dealt with the terrorist group in the past, and the leaders don't want additional disapproval that would result from an Iranian invasion of Afghanistan."
"Oh, God," Bellingham moaned. "The reaction from the Islamic world is going to be violent and long. And what about the UN? They're going to assume that we encouraged Israel in this act."
"As will the rest of the world," Arlene said.
"I'll tell you one thing for sure," Joplin said. "It certainly won't upset the American public."
The President's concern seemed to be growing with each passing moment. Now he turned his attention to Edgar Watson.
"What does the CIA have to say about the happenings in Iran?"
"The only such weapons shipments we are aware of were shipped to Belarus," Watson answered. "It is not known what happened to them after their arrival in that country."
"But would it be possible for that warmaking materiel to be sent farther south, into Iran?" Bellingham asked.
"It would have to go through several countries," Watson replied. "The Ukraine and Georgia first, then Armenia and Azerbaijan before crossing the border into Iran."
"The logistics of such a thing are staggering," Arlene remarked.
"Not only the logistics," Watson said, "but also the number of palms to be greased would be plentiful and greedy. However, with enough money . . ." He shrugged.
"But how did the Israelis learn about it?" the President asked.
"The Mossad has its eyes and ears in a lot of hidden corners throughout the world," Joplin said. "And if Israel says there is a big arms buildup in Iran for the invasion of Afghanistan, you can rely on it completely and irrevocably. And they are going to destroy it with an aerial attack."
"Oh, Christ!" the President said. "And not a thing we can do about it."
"Sir," Watson said, "the CIA has a suggestion. It is official and I've been authorized to pass it on in this meeting."
Bentley, the White House Liaison Officer from the FBI, finally spoke up. "The Bureau is aware of this suggestion and concurs, Mr. President."
"Don't keep us waiting, damn it, Edgar, I am not a patient man this afternoon!"
"Alright, Mr. President," the CIA man said. "We recommend that the Brits join us in aiding the air raid. We have our AWACS aircraft, and the Royal Air Force has aerial refueling capabilities in the area."
"I second the motion," Joplin said. "It's going to happen anyway, so let's join in and make it easier for our Jewish friends."
The President sighed. "Alright. Do it."
Joplin wasn't finished. "Sir, there is one way we can take advantage of the situation. After the Israelis bomb the hell out of the place and level it, I advise you to send in some of our SPECOPS people to mop up and try to capture some EPWs."
"Yes, Watson agreed. "If these captives were shipped off to Barri Prison in Bahrain they will prove most invaluable. We have an interrogator there who could ring them dry in record time."
"That seems a good idea," the President allowed. "Is it feasible to expect a group of our guys to be able to get in and out of there fast and accomplish that mission?"
"Of course, sir," Arlene said. "That's why they're called
Special
Forces."
"It would require the best of the best then," the President said. He leaned back in his chair and became thoughtful for a moment. "Who should we deploy?"
"Only one outfit I know of, Mr. President," Joplin said. "Brannigan's Brigands."
.
USS
DAN DALY
12 SEPTEMBER 0900 HOURS
THE letter from S-4 of Station Bravo in Bahrain came through the official mail, and after being offloaded with the regular shipment from the Seahawk, it was inserted into the ship's administrative distribution system. An hour later, a mail clerk made his deliveries to the various command and staff sections of the vessel and dropped it off in the SEAL in-box at the small office maintained by SCPO Buford Dawkins. He pulled it from the container and ripped the envelope open. After reading the missive, he broke into a wide grin.
Ensign Orlando Taylor's suggestion to have PO Chad Murchison write a letter filled with ambiguity, confusion, and logical illogic had paid off. Station Bravo's supply officer sent a statement taking away all responsibility for the missing desert patrol vehicle that had disappeared during Operation Rolling Thunder. The DPV was now written off, putting it into that great logistical obscurity in the sky. Randy Tooley at Shelor Field would never have to give up that gift from Lieutenant Bill Brannigan as a token of appreciation for a job well done.
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1130 HOURS
WEAPONS maintenance had been the main activity that morning. All the M-16 rifles, M-203 grenade launchers, M-249 squad automatic weapons, and even the AS-50 sniper rifles had to be detail-stripped and given thorough cleanings. This included submersion in boiling water to make sure the grit and grease that had worked into the smallest of the moving parts was dissolved. Afterward, after a complete wipe-down as the residual water evaporated, light coats of oil were applied.
It was not really a messy job, but hands got oily and dirty and were wiped as much on BDU trousers as on the rags furnished by the ordnance division that serviced the ship's weaponry. Ensign Taylor had been in charge of the activity, and he gave the men some extra time to wash up for chow. When they returned from the head to form up for the trip to the mess deck, they stepped into the compartment and halted.
Commander Tom Carey and Lieutenant Commander Ernest Berringer stood with the Skipper, Lieutenant Jim Cruiser, and SCPO Dawkins. They were obviously waiting for them.
"Uh-oh!" said Mike Assad.
"Oh, shit!" uttered Bruno Puglisi.
"This portends lugubrious developments," Chad Murchison stated.
It was the senior chief who made the announcement. "You won't be going to chow. Box lunches will be sent up to the ready room. So go there immediately if not sooner. There's business to attend to."
ONCE again Brannigan's Brigands were scattered among the seats in the ready room, as they had been several times in the past. The officers and senior chief situated themselves off to one side, while Carey and Berringer stood at the front of the room.