The Scorpion's Gate (27 page)
The admiral spoke first. “No, no, it’s not. Regrettably, it’s all too likely to be true.” MacIntyre remembered that Senator Robinson thought the world of this Navy man, who looked too young to be wearing three stars. Adams continued, “I was at Central Command Headquarters in Tampa last week. A guy there, senior guy whom I trust, had some conspiracy theory that the Bright Star Exercise was in fact just a cover for a planned U.S. invasion of Islamyah. Said the exercise is too big otherwise, too many troops, supplies for a month. He thought SEAL Team Six was already looking at landing sites.”
“Okay, but shooting down a U.S. AWACS as a provocation and blaming it on Islamyah? Blowing up the Navy base in Bahrain?” MacIntyre asked, skeptically.
“The Iranian documents make clear that the Americans did not know about the planned attack on the Bahrain naval base. The Iranians wanted them to think it really was Islamyah,” Brian Douglas clarified. “But, yes, Kashigian did agree to Iran’s shooting down an AWACS and making it look like it was Islamyah.”
The two Americans looked at each other. “But, Brian, does it make sense that Kashigian, Conrad, whoever is behind all this, would agree to letting Iran land forces in Islamyah?”
“It does, Rusty. Here’s why,” Douglas replied, “the Pentagon will point to the Iranian landings as another reason why the U.S. has to step in. Iran, of course, will say that the government in Riyadh is being beastly to the Shi’as living in the Eastern Province, and that they have to step in to protect them. Conrad will then claim success, because he has contained the Iranians in a small coastal enclave,” Douglas explained, moving cutlery about on the table to indicate the sequence. “But here’s the rub. The Iranians also plan to take Bahrain. They expect the U.S. fleet to be gone at the time for some reason.”
Admiral Adams pushed back from the table. “It will be. I am to move all surface combatants into the IO, allegedly to join Bright Star in the Red Sea, but actually to block Chinese navy ships from going to the aid of Islamyah. I see now why the Secretary was so intent on getting me orders to do that. He wants the Americans to land before the Chinese do and then to prevent the PLA from arriving by sea.”
“Yeah, okay, that part fits,” MacIntyre said, pounding the table absently with his fist. “Conrad does believe the Chinese are coming. He thinks they even have nukes for the missiles they sold Islamyah. But if you try to block their fleet, that’s an act of war.”
Adams shot MacIntyre a glance. “Tell me about it. Their fleet is well equipped. And they actually are bringing nukes for the missiles. I got that from my office this morning when I called in on the consulate’s secure phone. We confirmed it by scanning them off Malaysia.”
“So Conrad was right about that,” MacIntyre muttered.
“But he’s wrong about what Iran is up to,” Brian Douglas said, trying to get the conversation back to his point. “He believes Iran is only landing near Dhahran. They actually plan to take the whole Gulf coast of Islamyah—and Bahrain. He thinks they will then withdraw after they cut a deal to protect the Shi’a, but in fact, Tehran plans to use their enclave to supply a terrorist guerrilla war to evict the Americans and the al Sauds, again, from the rest of the country. They want to bleed America dry in a long desert war.”
“Great. So Conrad has done a secret deal with the Iranians to give him cover to reinstall the Sauds, and Tehran is actually double-crossing him, taking half the Gulf, and suckering us into another occupation war in an Arab country. Fucking great!” Adams shook his head in disgust. His pale face was reddening with anger. “We gotta stop this motherfucker.”
“Yes,” Rusty added quietly, “yes, we do.”
The three men sat silently for several minutes. Russell MacIntyre, the American intelligence analyst, looked out at the Persian Gulf and then, after a while, seemed to know what to do. “I had a debate the other day with a friend over whether I was arrogant. She said I wasn’t, but maybe I am, because at the end of the day I think I work for the American people, not Conrad and company. And nobody has asked the American people if they want more of their children killed out here in another war.”
MacIntyre had chosen sides. “If we act, we act alone. We will never be able to get anyone in Washington or London to go along with what we will have to do. But I have an idea of how we might be able to change things.” He turned to Bradley Adams. “Admiral, you have orders to take Fifth Fleet out of the Gulf, and I know you are going to have to follow those orders, but maybe Brian and I can manage events back here so you will be free to do the right thing— at the right time.
“Brian, you and I will be freelancing. If it goes wrong for us, we lose everything, our jobs, our pensions, maybe a lot more, but I swore an oath to protect my country, not a bunch of liars who happen to be in power.” Rusty swallowed. “You in?”
“I am. And I have some friendly assets around the Gulf that we can use. I bet you do, too, Admiral.” The British spy smiled. “Besides, if it goes wrong, I doubt London will be anywhere near as mad at me as some folks in Washington will be with you.” He reached across the table to shake MacIntyre’s hand.
Admiral Adams stood and placed a hand on the shoulders of the two civilians. “You guys may think I’m just a big cornpone, but when I was a kid there was a TV show about Davy Crockett, King of the Wild Frontier. The theme song had a line that I just remembered, sitting here. They sang ‘Be sure you’re right, and then go ahead. It’s up to you to do what Davy Crockett said.’ Gentlemen, I’m sure we’re right. If there’s any way to stop another deceitful war out here that’s just gonna kill thousands more Arabs and Americans, the right thing is to stop it. You two create the right circumstances and I can put a pretty potent force on your side.”
“It’s a long shot, and everything will have to work, and in the right order,” Rusty admitted, looking up at the naval officer, “but it is the only shot we’ve got. Brian, can you get the two of us into Islamyah?”
13FEBRUARY 17
Aboard the USAF E-5B AWACS
C
all Sign Quarterback Golf
all Sign Quarterback Golf
38,000 Feet above the Persian Gulf
“
Y
ou know, Major, it’s like them Iranians tired theirselves out,” Master Sergeant Troy White said over the intercom. “Last few weeks they been flying like crazy with all their old MiGs and shit. Today the sky over there is almost clear. Just a couple of scheduled passenger flights. This shift’s gonna be a piece of cake.”
Y
ou know, Major, it’s like them Iranians tired theirselves out,” Master Sergeant Troy White said over the intercom. “Last few weeks they been flying like crazy with all their old MiGs and shit. Today the sky over there is almost clear. Just a couple of scheduled passenger flights. This shift’s gonna be a piece of cake.”
The revolving radar dome on top of the modified 767 gave Sergeant White a view almost 200 miles into Iran as the big twinengine Boeing slowly moved up the middle of the Persian Gulf off Abu Dhabi, headed toward Kuwait.
“Copy, Troy. What about the other side?” Major Kyle Johnson asked from his position in the forward compartment. “Old Islamyah has had a hard time getting their birds up, now that we cut off their spares. You see anything goin’ on over there this morning?”
“No, sir. Not much there either. The northern Global Hawk over
Kuwait sees a coupla big guys circlin’ up north. Looks like maybe Air Islamyah practicing. Maybe checkout flights. Otherwise routine.” The Global Hawk was a Bistatic UAV Adjunct, one of two unmanned aerial vehicles constantly doing high-altitude loops at either end of the Gulf, one over Kuwait and the other over the Musandam Peninsula of Oman, at the mouth of the Gulf. Each flew at over 60,000 feet and had look-down radars whose signals were bounced up to a satellite and down to the AWACS. In addition to its own active radars and those on the Global Hawks, the unarmed AWACS aircraft was equipped with passive sensors to detect and categorize emissions from radars and radios in the air, and those transmitting from below on the land and at sea in the Gulf. All of the data the aircraft collected was integrated, analyzed, and beamed directly up to a satellite for relay down to the U.S. Central Command’s forward headquarters in Qatar, the U.S. Fifth Fleet headquarters in Bahrain, the U.S. Army air defense missile batteries in Kuwait, and back to stateside military and intelligence facilities.
Kuwait sees a coupla big guys circlin’ up north. Looks like maybe Air Islamyah practicing. Maybe checkout flights. Otherwise routine.” The Global Hawk was a Bistatic UAV Adjunct, one of two unmanned aerial vehicles constantly doing high-altitude loops at either end of the Gulf, one over Kuwait and the other over the Musandam Peninsula of Oman, at the mouth of the Gulf. Each flew at over 60,000 feet and had look-down radars whose signals were bounced up to a satellite and down to the AWACS. In addition to its own active radars and those on the Global Hawks, the unarmed AWACS aircraft was equipped with passive sensors to detect and categorize emissions from radars and radios in the air, and those transmitting from below on the land and at sea in the Gulf. All of the data the aircraft collected was integrated, analyzed, and beamed directly up to a satellite for relay down to the U.S. Central Command’s forward headquarters in Qatar, the U.S. Fifth Fleet headquarters in Bahrain, the U.S. Army air defense missile batteries in Kuwait, and back to stateside military and intelligence facilities.
“Intel, what you seeing?” Major Johnson asked into his chin mike. Two compartments back from Johnson, a young Air Force officer, two noncommissioned officers in their late thirties, and a fortyyear-old National Security Agency civilian listened on headsets and watched on flat screens. The young officer, Lieutenant Judy Moore, answered for the section. “Concur with Sergeant White, sir. Quiet as a mouse on the Iranian side. On the west, the Islamyans have got some of their Patriot radars blinking on every once in a while. First time I’ve seen them up in a long time. But they don’t stay on for long. Must be having problems. And Troy’s right about the two birds circling up by Ar Ar on the Iraqi border. They’ve been ID’ing themselves as Air Islamyah checkout flights. I think they’re both four-engine jobs.” She swiveled in her chair and looked at another flat screen that was showing data relayed from the Global Hawk circling at 65,000 feet over the Straits of Hormuz. “Down south it’s mainly us making noise. Navy is beginning to head out to Bright Star and is really lighting the Straits area up as they go through.”
“Okay, gang. It’s the usual racetrack loop today,” the major confirmed to the crew over the intercom. “We’ll go into Kuwait, do some links down to the U.S. and Kuwait Patriot missile units, make a tight turn, and head back down to Qatar and then...do it again.”
Beyond the range of the AWACS radar, five SU-27 SMK Flanker aircraft took off from the Iranian air force base at Dezful. Each of the twin-engine interceptors carried a combination of eight heat-seeking and radar-guided air-to-air missiles. Two boys on their way to a high school on the edge of Dezful thrilled to see the powerful Russianbuilt fighters launching, even though they had often seen Flankers in the air around Dezful. Today, they agreed, was different. There were five together, instead of the usual two, and they did not do the near-vertical climb on takeoff. Instead, these Flankers clung low to the ground, their radar reflections lost in ground clutter, their ten engines laying down a thick black trail as they headed west. If the boys had looked through binoculars, they would have noticed something else different on this day. The paint scheme was new.
Flying west-southwest, the Flankers left Iranian airspace in a few minutes on a heading taking them into Iraq between Al Kut to the north and Al Amarah to the south. They spread out five abreast at one-mile intervals as they swept 2,000 feet over the Tigris River, still heading southwesterly. Their course took them between the Shi’a holy cities of Najaf to the north and Nasiriyah to the south, right over the Euphrates River. Near the riverbank, a man working atop a cell phone tower saw the unusual five-ship formation to his north and called a friend to see if he could see it, too.
The fertile land around the two rivers had been a battleground for as long as there had been governments on the planet. The land ahead of the aircraft now, however, was empty, vast sweeps of vacant desert. Into it, each aircraft dropped a depleted external centerline fuel tank, lightening its load. They were flying slower than normal now in these unpopulated stretches, trying to compensate for the heavy fuel consumption of low-level flight.
As they approached the border with Islamyah, the aircraft pulled into a close formation and descended lower toward the desert sands. The lead pilot was indicating to his wingmen with hand signals. Their radios, like their radars, were turned on but not emitting. Only the IRST, the infrared search and tracking system, scanned out ahead. At this low altitude it was limited to about a 40-kilometer forward view, but unlike radar, no one could detect it. The IRST showed a clear field of sky ahead.
They crossed the border north of Rafha and south of Ar Ar, with only dunes beneath them. The lead pilot waved his arm to his wingmen, indicating an approaching left bank. The aircraft rose slightly before executing the maneuver, then rolled gently around to a south-southeast heading. There were no surface features below to confirm to them that they were where they were supposed to be, but the Galileo global positioning satellite signal in their cockpits told them they were right on course. The desert town of Baqa was coming up off to their right, off to the south. That also meant that their lowest-level flying was coming up. After they passed Baqa on the right, the twin military complexes of Hafr al Batin and what had been known as KKMC, King Khalid Military City, would be miles off to the left of the aircraft. Both locations had been relatively moribund since the coup that had toppled the house of Saud.
Iranian Qods Force observers dressed as camel herders were near the two military bases. They confirmed for Tehran that nothing had taken off from either airstrip all morning. From their positions outside the fences, they could see the flight lines. No one was even preparing an aircraft. Each observer clicked his small satellite radio, firing off burst transmissions on frequencies being monitored by Qods Force. The signals indicated all clear. There was no need for Tehran to use the emergency satellite link to the Flankers.
From their lowest-level flight, the Flankers planned to climb quickly after they were south of KKMC and banking left, toward the Persian Gulf south of Kuwait. The lead pilot checked his fuel gauge. He had consumed a little more than he had planned for at this point in the mission, but only a little. His eyes went to the Russian Phazotron Zhuk coherent-pulse Doppler radar screen. It was warmed up, but not yet switched to emit. When he did flick that switch, it would give him a track-while-scan capability and a lookdown/shoot-down system linked to his missiles. It wouldn’t be long now before that would happen. As he looked at the radar screen, he caught the electronics intelligence screen to its left blinking an icon on. Then quickly it was gone. The lead pilot thought he had seen that happen a few minutes earlier as well. He had ignored it then. Now he tapped the button below the screen to call up a readout. The data showed that four times in the last sixteen minutes a signal had hit the Flanker, but too briefly to cause the automatic alarm to come on. He tapped the control again for a diagnostic of the signal.
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