Secret of the Oil: Prequel to the Donavan Chronicles (19 page)

OFFICE OF THE DIRECTOR,

NATIONAL SECURITY AGENCY

28 OCTOBER – 4:00 P.M.

"Admiral, you mean to tell me you knew about this and didn't contact me immediately?" the infuriated National Security Adviser, Kent Avery, asked in an icy tone.

"Sir, I called your office and left a message for you and requested that you immediately call me back," the admiral responded.

"I think you deliberately did not attempt to get in contact with me as soon as possible so that you could have a military operation conducted before anybody at the National Security Council even knew it was taking place. You have my cell number. Why didn’t you call it?"

"Sir, you may think what you wish, but I did my duty and requested that you or your office get back to me immediately. I regret that you took so long to respond to my urgent message. As far as any operation is concerned, you will have to talk to the DIA. I’m not up to the minute with all that they may be doing. On the matter at hand, do you wish me to come and brief you and the National Security Council, or the President for that matter, on what we found in this intercept?" the admiral asked.

The admiral knew that he was right. He had done everything by the book, yet had stretched the legal ramifications of his action to the maximum. He now fervently hoped that the DIA team would conduct the operation successfully, and quickly, before this entire episode grew to proportions that could not be contained within the classified area of the military or the executive branch.

"Yes, I expect you to be here within the hour to brief the National Security Council." Kent Avery summarily ended the call.

The admiral picked up the red phone and dialed Mary Jean's personal number at the center.

"Hello, Mary Jean, Kidd here. We got us a pissed off National Security Adviser. I know that worries you to the maximum extent possible." He laughed, "And I want to find out from you exactly what you know at this point in time. I still think we can stall enough for your people to get the job done without getting hair in our teeth. I have been ordered to come to the National Security Council to give them a full briefing within the next hour. Is there any way you can tell me what is going to happen during that time, or in the near future?"

"I'm hopeful we'll have good news for you momentarily, Admiral. We've the team observing what we’re almost positive is the location of the bombs. There seems to be an internal struggle going on between different terrorist organizations for the possession of those weapons. One group is now actually attacking the other. I can only guess that there has been a falling out over use or control of the weapons. We’re in no position to intervene until their internal battle is completed. I should know in a few minutes as Captain Higgins is observing the attack at this time." Mary Jean continued to brief the admiral on everything she knew on the current situation around al-Hanbali's house.

"Mary Jean, is that the same Higgins you had me use on the recent delivery to Saudi?”

“The same. He is starting to act like a leader. He took the initiative to seek out the location of the weapons. In time, we’ll have a real asset in that man,” Mary Jean said.

“You know that State is going to have a conniption over this. I think the only thing we can do is insist that these are enemy forces operating against the United States and that the military is engaging them. It is unfortunate that this has international ramifications in a friendly country. But we are in pursuit of an enemy with a weapon that can put nuclear fear into every American and every Saudi. Once our people know that terrorists have a nuclear weapon, my God, then real shit will hit the fan. We have to get them. I’ll keep in touch." The admiral hung up.

* * * *

Mary Jean put the phone back in the cradle.
We’ve got to tread carefully here.
She was understandably concerned that the operation would be hindered or cancelled because of diplomatic stresses imposed by the State Department or intergovernmental problems within the executive branch. If the State Department revealed what they were doing to the government of Saudi Arabia, that government would force them to terminate their operations and the Saudis would have a legal right to take over. She considered the legal position, and in her mind concluded that it was not the highest priority in this case. Her priority was to support Matt Higgins in every way she could.

She stretched back in her chair, put her hands behind her head, and looked up at the ceiling. Mary Jean thought to herself,
It is difficult to believe there are so many people in this country who do not understand that we are at war with an enemy who has sworn to destroy everything we have —our way of life, our culture, and our very existence as a nation.
She knew there were many people who disagreed with the President on his way of conducting the antiterrorist campaign, but this war was our only chance. There had been no quarter given by either side. Diplomacy would not solve this confrontation. There was no way to achieve a negotiated peace, because the other guys would only use it to strengthen their position and capabilities. She knew a negotiated peace would be the death warrant for our way of life.

“It amazes me,” Mary Jean actually said aloud as if practicing a speech she had to give in the next week to the USAA convention, “that our people cannot understand that there are those in this world, who will kill you, just because you are an American. The number of people, whose animosity against the USA knows no bounds, has dramatically increased in the past decade. All I see is our people putting their heads in the sand and not wanting to engage into a conflict where their sons or neighbors or friends might be hurt or damaged. Without our ability to engage these terrorists, the radical wing of Islam will invade us. We have no way to effectively combat the suicide bombers, unless we get to them before they strike, like in the planning stages, and that can only be accomplished by on-the-ground intelligence operatives. So the real question comes down to—is it better to die on the battlefield fighting against this or is it better to go to the mosque for prayers after we lose?”

Mary Jane returned her chair to the upright position and put her hands on the desk. This job was very difficult, and nobody else wanted it, because all you did was stick your neck out without any safeguard. She made the decisions, she was responsible, and she could not shift the responsibility to anyone else.

She would see that her team got the weapons, no matter the cost. There was no second place in this contest. The destruction by an atomic weapon of one of America’s cities, or that of an ally, was not acceptable.

AL-HANBALI’S COMPOUND

4:34 PM – 28 OCTOBER

Tewfik al-Hanbali opened the door of the workshop. Basam and Yuri were waiting outside.

“Get the weapons packed. We are leaving right now. I have decided to move the attack up by one day as we have everything we need. I am afraid that if Faisal betrayed us, someone else might be coming either to assist them or to take it from them. Those Hezbollah idiots might do anything. I want to go now.” He looked at Yuri. “Assure me the weapons are ready.”

Yuri nodded. “Yes. The largest one is ready for use. I need to place it in the lead-lined case. The other one for the oil rig is ready in a shielded container, and the third, the smallest one, can be ready in an hour.”

“Are you sure there is no danger in transporting them?”

“The largest container can be strapped down and carried by one man on his back, at least for a short distance. The one for the desert well is round and in a flat box with a handle for carrying, and the other case is like a medium-size cardboard box. What are you going to do with it?” Yuri asked.

“That one is my personal property. Let’s get out of here. Basam, get the others ready and have the cars brought around. Put the primary weapon for the oil facility in the first Land Rover. We will take the other ones in the last two cars, one in each. I want you and Yuri in the second car and I’ll be in the last one with the bomb for the desert well.” Tewfik was already walking toward the house as he finished giving his order.

Basam was carrying out the instructions and then approached al-Hanbali with a concern. “Tewfik, those cars Faisal used to get here should be moved. Why not bring them here just before we leave, put the Hezbollah traitors in them, and burn them?”

“Good idea. Let’s do it and then head for our intermediate target. We will have to stop somewhere for the night. I think I know a place: an old friend’s house,” said al-Hanbali.

They prepared the vehicles for the trip. The first vehicle, with three of al-Hanbali’s men, had the large weapon in a container strapped in the spare tire well. The second car was a dust-covered red Nissan station wagon. Basam was going to ride in that car with Yuri, and they had the small-size bomb. The last vehicle, with al-Hanbali and the one remaining member of his cell, carried the dirty weapon intended to contaminate what they believed were the largest oil reserves in the world.

It was late afternoon when all the preparations were complete. Basam called for two of the men to accompany him to get the cars left on the road. They would also pick up the bodies of the two RPG men at the rear of the house.

Basam started to walk down the road toward the vehicles and halfway down turned to the right to enter a small path leading to the position from where the RPG’s had fired. As they neared the bottom, they could see the bodies sprawled on the sand. Basam looked up as he stood in the bottom of the ravine and scanned the skyline; he thought he saw some movement up on the ridgeline above the house. He decided it was nothing.

* * * *

When Matt observed the three-man team coming out of the compound and starting down the road toward the Hezbollah empty cars, he used his handheld radio to tell Peter what he saw.

“Get ready. I think they might be getting ready to leave. They’ll want to get out of here after all the noise and the possibility of others having the same idea as the attackers.”

“We have the road covered from here and can be ready to move in a second,” Peter said.

Matt signaled with his hand for Bridget to come to his position.

When she arrived, they watched as the three turned off the road and went along a path leading to the bottom of the hill. The dead Hezbollah fighters were out of sight, but the hail of bullets they observed following the firing of the RPG’s had silenced whoever was down there.

Matt rose up just a few inches to see if he could observe what they were doing. Just then, he saw one of the men in the valley turn and look up at the hill toward him. Ducking back, he pulled Bridget back down the hill a foot or so.

“They looked up to scan the hill. I don’t think they saw me, but I can’t be sure. Let’s go to the cars and if they come over the hill we can engage them,” Matt said.

After retreating down the hill, they reached the cars, got the sniper rifles out, trained them on the hill, and then they waited. Ten minutes passed. No one appeared. Then they heard the starting of engines. Once again, they climbed the hill to see what was going on.

Regaining their observation point, they saw the three vehicles moving towards the main compound. The last car had the tailgate open and two bodies were visible, feet hanging over the rear bumper.

As the cars turned into the compound, Matt felt his tri-band cell phone vibrate. On answering, he heard McDonald’s voice so he gave a situation report concluding with, “I think there are only seven, max of eight, in the compound. We counted them on the roof tops during the firefight and observed one additional come down to get the vehicles and move them into the compound.”

“Okay. The general wants you to get the weapons as soon as possible. Can you do it?” Glenwood queried.

“Yes, but not in daylight. It is too risky to attempt it. In three or four hours, we can be ready to assault the compound. We’ve seen their tactics and their warning system. They probably lost most of their security systems when the RPG’s hit the house, and they’ll be relying on guards. That means we can reduce their numbers by taking out any guards first, before we take on the house,” Matt finished.

* * * *

A column of smoke emerged over the top of the main house, followed by flames reaching higher than the rooftop. Suddenly three vehicles sped out of the area near the house, traveling at high speed down the road toward Matt’s Land Rover.

The lead vehicle pulled up beside the empty cars Matt and Bridget had used and the occupants of the lead car visually searched the SUVs. Matt saw the lead vehicle come to a stop. He hoped they were thinking that these vehicles were part of the Hezbollah attack group. A few moments later, they continued on.

Matt’s eyes followed the departing vehicles. The enemy managed to get away again. His position prevented an attack or trying to stop their leaving. Al-Hanbali had outmaneuvered him again. The folks in Washington would only see his failure to get the weapons at this time. They would probably assume he dallied in getting his men into position and not ready to act on a moment’s notice. The fact that there was not a thing he could have done against such a superior force, without taking unnecessary risks, would not be in their thought patterns. The only conclusion they would reach would remain that he had failed again to get the weapons.

Matt called the Center and got McDonald on the line. “The al-Hanbali gang is roaring out of the compound. I’m going to follow and see if I can get into a position to attack them.”

“Wait a minute. You can’t go off without authorization from the general. I’ll inform her and get back to you.”

“What the hell do you mean? I’m the commander here and I’ll do what it takes to get the weapons. I’m not going to wait for someone in Washington to get off his or her butt and make a decision. It is too late for that. I have my orders unless the general tells me otherwise. What are you trying to do anyhow?”

“I’m telling you to wait. If you go off without any authorization you could be in real trouble,” Glenwood said.

Matt didn’t listen to this warning. He closed the phone, not waiting to hear another word. He had the general’s order from her own mouth to get the weapons. That was what he was going to do. Any doubts he had before were dissolved. No one was going to stop him or slow him down by waiting for some authorization that McDonald seemed to think he needed. No, he, the on-scene commander, had his orders. When they gave him the command of this team there was no instruction book to go with it and no directives on how to command or how to accomplish a mission. He knew what he had to do. He set about doing it.

* * * *

Inside the last car speeding away from the compound, al-Hanbali was completing his plans for the final phase of the dirty oil operation. All fear was gone, no qualms, no trepidations. He had a goal to accomplish and the first thing on the agenda was making as quick a departure from this area as possible. There would be a police investigation of the fire and the burned bodies. There would, however, be no legal connection to him as the ownership of the house was in the name of a fake company within other offshore entities. Of course, there was always the slight chance someone might be able to identify him or one of his men. But the distance they were now traveling would slow down any investigation by local authorities.

He picked up a new cell phone and dialed Basam in the Nissan ahead of him. “Move up into the lead and go to the main highway. We need to put some distance behind us. I’ll call when it is time to get off the highway. We have at least three hours of daylight. I don’t want to be on the road after dark.”

Al-Hanbali had regained his confidence. He had survived three attacks: the one in Beirut; the one at the old main house, where he had lost three men; and this final insult perpetrated by Faisal. It had to be the will of Allah that he was still on track in this great cause. He would succeed—nothing could stop him. He felt it in his bones. Allah was with him.

When they stopped for the night, he would give the final orders to position the weapons and the preparations he wanted accomplished to ensure simultaneous detonations. He was finally in a position to inflict the ultimate destruction on the Western economies, without subjecting himself to making a mad attempt to accomplish this damage on American soil. This would be a far worse blow to the West than the earlier World Trade Center attack and the devastation caused by the 9/11 events.