Primary Target (1999) (44 page)

Having succumbed to the insidious effects of fatigue, the first mate had fallen asleep at the wheel.

Ramazani forcefully slapped the back of the man's head, knocking him out of the captain's chair. "Get out of my sight," he exclaimed in a rage. "Send that other moron up here!"

Less than two minutes later the disheveled skipper appeared on the bridge. He was still tucking his shirttail into his trousers as he climbed into the captain's chair.

A deep frown crossed Ramazani's face. "If either one of you ever fall asleep on duty again, you will be shark shit an hour later."

Red in the face, the captain clenched his jaws shut and stared out to sea. One more threat and he will be the one (vho has an accident.

Ramazani spun around and left the bridge, then began a leisurely tour of the yacht, stopping to chat with Kara and Robyn for a few minutes. Afterward he went below to check the security of the nuclear bomb, then returned to the bridge. An hour later, while the twins were lounging on the open sundeck, a Coast Guard HH-60J Jayhawk flew over the ship and circled back for a closer look. When the helo slowed to a crawl, Ramazani's pulse raced as he stepped away from the passageway leading to the bridge.

"Wave at them," he said loudly to Robyn and Kara. "They love for people to wave at them."

The sisters smiled and waved at the crew. Both pilots and a crewman waved back as the twin-engine Sikorsky gaine
d
speed and continued northwest toward Jacksonville. Ramazani let out a sigh of relief and eyed two fully loaded AK-47 semiautomatic assault rifles propped against the starboard bulkhead. Next to the AK-47s were two portable antiaircraft missiles. He gazed at the attractive young women. At least they'll have a good time before they die.

Chapter
43

The Persian Gulf
.

Along with surface ships of the U
. S
. 5th Fleet, the attack submarines USS Jefferson City and USS Annapolis launched Tomahawk cruise missiles at selected targets in Iran, then stood by for further orders from the White House. Within the time span of an average lunch break, the primary terrorist training centers used by al-Islamiyah, the Revolutionary Guard Corps, Hamas, Hezbollah of Hejaz, and alGamaat were reduced to smoking ruins and twisted metal.

One compound in particular, the Imam Ali Camp in east Tehran, was leveled by seven Tomahawks from the USS Gonzales, an Arleigh Burke--class destroyer. A fourth missile went astray and hit the Azadi Hotel, formerly the Hyatt Hotel, knocking a huge hole in the decaying building.

In addition, eight more cruise missiles from the destroyer USS Stout pulverized a safe house used by a cell of Bassam Shakhar's lieutenants. Another U
. S
. warship destroyed buildings used by senior members of the Iranian intelligence service. A minute later the top-secret Iranian Defense Technology and Science Research Center near Karaj was destroyed by three Tomahawks.

Thirty miles to the north, other ships of the 5th Fleet were launching wave after wave of Tomahawk missiles at terrorist compounds and runways and taxiways at military airfields i
n
Iran. The mission was simple; make it impossible for Tehran to launch any fighter aircraft.

Minutes later a second round of cruise missiles destroyed or damaged a large number of Iran's military aircraft, including many of the 121 jets Tehran inherited from Iraq during the Persian Gulf War. While the jets were burning to the ground, other Tomahawks were destroying missile plants in Semnan and Esfahan and design centers at Kuh-e Bagh-eMelli, Sultanabad, and Lavizan.

The Red Se
a
Three U
. S
. ships fired missiles directly into Sudanese airspace. Nine Tomahawks slammed into suspected terrorist base camps and support camps and a chemical weapons plant in Khartoum. Another missile malfunctioned and hit an apartment building, killing sixteen innocent victims and setting fire to an adjacent bakery.

The Arabian Se
a
The submarine USS Boise joined surface ships to cause heavy damage to terrorist training camps and support facilities in three remote areas of Afghanistan. Twelve Tomahawks shattered a command-and-control building at a large base ninety miles south of Kabul. Other missiles flattened terrorist housing, indoctrination, administrative, and logistics centers, including storage buildings containing weapons and ammunition.

The Mediterranean Se
a
Sixth Fleet attack submarines and surface combatants rained Tomahawk missiles on selected terrorist compounds in the Bekaa Valley. Despite two missiles that malfunctioned and crashed harmlessly into the sea, every target was obliterated, including the Shaykh Abdallah Barracks, a military training facility used by the Iranian Revolutionary Guards and Hezbollah fighters. Key areas of infrastructure supported by Bassam Shakhar and his followers were hit especially hard
,
including the compound where Maritza Gunzelman had gleaned so much valuable information.

A volley of missiles hit terrorist training camps, support camps, and safe havens in the Palestinian Authority-ruled West Bank and Gaza. Thirty-seven terrorists who were training in tactics and weaponry were killed by Tomahawks that carried cluster munitions designed to explode shrapnel bomb-lets over a large area.

Operating separately from other U
. S
. ships in the Mediterranean Sea, the Ticonderoga-class cruiser USS Vella Gulf, the attack submarine Montpelier, and the destroyers Ramage and Hayler joined the assault on terrorist facilities and selected military targets in the Bekaa Valley. One of the submarine's Tomahawks malfunctioned and went off course, barely missing a Greek cruise ship forty-five miles from the Montpelier. Many of the startled passengers, including a large group of Americans, watched in horror as the errant missile plunged into the sea 200 yards off the ship's port bow.

Los Angeles International Airpor
t
Although the freeways were clogged, the normally bustling airport was unusually quiet this morning. Except for a string of corporate planes and jumbo jets from foreign airlines, few domestic airliners were taking off or landing. Even the smaller commuter airlines were operating less than twenty percent of their flights.

Tempers were running short as frightened and disgruntled passengers scrambled to get refunds from airlines and travel agents. Hordes of people who were trying to make alternative travel arrangements found that it was an exercise in futility. The demand had quickly exceeded the available seats on buses and trains. Rental cars were almost nonexistent and commanded exorbitant rates.

Wearing the uniform of a baggage handler who had been murdered a few minutes earlier, Ahmad Quraishi walked to the US Airways Boeing 737. He cautiously surveyed the immediate area while he helped load bags, then scrambled into the cargo hold when the other loader was not looking. He crawled into a corner and covered himself with luggage. Knowing that he was playing an important role in the Islami
c
revolution, Quraishi was confident that he would be remembered as a warrior.

Twenty minutes after US Airways Flight 36 departed from Los Angeles for Philadelphia, the deceased baggage handler was found by his supervisor. Every airplane on the ramps at Los Angeles International was grounded, while the few flights that had departed during the previous hour were quickly notified of a potential threat to safety. Two of the planes diverted to the nearest suitable airport while the other flights continued to their destinations.

After the first officer of US Airways Flight 36 took a stroll through the cabin and didn't see anyone who looked suspicious, the captain elected to continue to Philadelphia. Although there were only twenty-seven passengers onboard, the captain was determined to give them the best service he could provide.

In the baggage compartment of the 737, Ahmad Quraishi flicked on his tiny flashlight and checked his wristwatch, then made himself comfortable. The "throwaway" had his orders and he intended to do exactly what he had been instructed to do in the name of Allahu.

As the flight progressed toward Philadelphia, both pilots began to relax. They were evading thunderstorms and discussing the captain's tennis game when the airplane suddenly exploded, raining bodies, anthrax, and flaming debris across the Indianapolis Motor Speedway.

Melbourne, Florid
a
After flying and searching all day, Jackie and Scott were exhausted and frustrated. From Key West to Melbourne, they had seen only two yachts that vaguely resembled the former Bon Vivant.

With the sun dipping below the horizon, Jackie checked the fuel and reluctantly turned toward the coastline. "That's it--we're too low on gas."

"We've been too low for twenty minutes," Scott said flatly, then lowered his binoculars and glanced at Jackie. "I can't believe we haven't seen anything that even remotely looks like the yacht."

"They may have ducked into the Intracoastal Waterway,"
s
he suggested, "or found a way to camouflage the ship in one of the yacht basins."

"I don't think so."

"Why not?" she asked as she gazed at the setting sun. "They may want to lie low for a while--wait for things to cool off."

Scott glanced at a large sailboat as it flashed under the helo. "I think this whole operation is organized around a sequence of scheduled events. If that's true, we should overtake them tomorrow."

"Unless"--Jackie pointed at their sectional chart--"they're steaming a hundred miles or so from the coast." "We can't cover everything."

"That's why we have the Navy and Coast Guard," Jackie said, then changed course to check out a large yacht. "The Guard's HH-60Js can fly three hundred nautical miles out to sea, refuel from a ship, then search for extended periods of time."

"I still think they aren't going to stray too far from the coast"

"You may be right." Jackie turned the volume up on the VHF radio and started to say something, then stopped and listened in shock to the terse message from a controller to a pilot.

Stunned by the news of the US Airways crash, Scott turned to Jackie. "How are they getting the explosives through security?"

"I don't know, but this is totally out of control."

Scott glanced at the last rays of sunlight. "We're in deep trouble."

"No kidding," Jackie declared. "What's more, we have Farkas on the loose."

"Oh, yeah. He'll surface again."

"I don't even want to think about it," Jackie said, then looked at Scott. "Even with all the safeguards they have around the White House, it wouldn't take much creativity to flatten it."

"That's right, and Farkas knows how to pull it off."

She pointed out a low-flying airplane, then contacted Patrick Air Force Base Approach Control.

Unbeknownst to Scott and Jackie, Sweet Life was cruising at eleven knots thirty-two miles northeast of Melbourne.

Chapter
44

The Oval Office
.

M
aria Eden-Macklin slipped into the Oval Office a few seconds before the president was scheduled to speak. Co
n
cerned about the toll the terrorist crisis was taking on her husband, she gave him a smile and a discreet thumbs up. Dressed in a dark blue suit and gray silk tie, Cord Macklin returned the gesture with a slight nod before he looked straight at the television camera. Okay, stay relaxed and calm. Image is everything.

"Fifteen seconds," the director advised.

The president took a long, deep breath and forced himself to relax his facial muscles. It was difficult to do since he couldn't stop thinking about the latest tragedies. The American 757 that crashed near Little Rock, Arkansas, after being struck by a portable missile had been devastating, but the Southwest jetliner that was shot down during its approach to Dallas Love Field had left absolute carnage on Hines Boulevard. Both terrorist cells escaped unharmed. A few other potential disasters had been averted by excellent CIA and FBI intelligence, combined with incompetence in the ranks of the militants, but the terrorists were still scoring heavy blows.

Macklin let out his breath. Speak clearly and slowly. The red light came on.

"Good evening," Macklin said with a solemn look. He paused to school his voice. Don't frown.

"My fellow Americans, and our friends around the world, I come to you this evening with a heavy heart. Our nation and our citizens are being attacked by governments that substitute terrorism for statesmanship and anti-Americanism for religious belief."

Viewers were spellbound. On every continent, in homes, businesses, hotels, resorts, and bars, most conversations came to an abrupt end.

"The despicable acts of terrorism that have killed and injured so many of our citizens will not be overlooked or forgotten. As we mourn our dead and injured, I want to explain some important facts to those who choose to be our enemies."

Macklin's eyes were riveted on the camera lens. "Terrorism will not be tolerated," he said with deep passion in his voice. "Not while I'm president of the United States of America. As I speak, the sponsors of these cowardly attacks are paying a stiff penalty for their transgressions. If the terrorist attacks continue, their sponsors will pay even greater penalties. If we apprehend these barbarians, we will prosecute them to the extent the law allows. Make no mistake about my commitment. No one, and no amount of condemnation, is going to dissuade me from the course I have charted."