Tehran Decree (6 page)

In Jansen’s experience this overt aggressive stance
annoyed the hell out of most antagonist. The whole security
planning was clearly based on intimidation rather than covert
undermining of their potential antagonists.

Still, this was the American way -- give the buggers
an up front picture of your capabilities by concentrating on
aggression, which seemed to be actually invoking it in the
enemy.

For a determined opposition with terrorist
capabilities, it would be a simple matter to pick off each security
agent one by one, or even to take out most of them at the same time
in one organised sting.

This would hold true, even with a cleared no go zone
all around the president, which the Secret Service all ways aimed
at anyway.

He took another look at the president who was now
preparing to take his leave, and shook his head despairingly just
as Lotte, his private secretary, pushed another cup of coffee in
his hand. Jansen’s looked up at his attentive secretary -- one
could learn a lot from the body language of others.

Chapter Nine

Sydney Australia

Jogging in Sydney’s Domain was one the great
pleasures in Kazeni’s life, it kept him fit and active and ready to
serve the BIB at a moments notice. It was a cool day and the leaves
of the trees in the park were constantly falling. It was good to be
alive and to have a life in the service of something that was
greater than himself, but if he failed, if something or someone
struck him down in his prime...then what?

He hated the idea of a successor or even a second in
command, but he liked the idea of a fail safe operation, whereby
once his plans were put into effect they would succeed, even if he
were deposed.

There were lots of devoted Muslims in the BIB, in
fact they were all devoted to the idea of the world wide Islamic
state. After all, it was the Christians who first attempted world
domination with their religious beliefs and every dog has his day.
Christianity had had its day in the sun; it was now Islam's turn to
rule the roost. The times were ripe for an Islamic take over, since
Christianity was declining rapidly, and churches were having a hard
time recruiting new parishioners and retaining the faithful.

The word faithful stuck in his mind and brought him
sharply back to his original concerns...that of a suitable
successor should he be struck down at a vital moment.

Any man in the group could be a figure head, but
there were not so many with the passion and gift of devout
leadership. It demanded total obedience to the cause, which was
everything, including life itself.

His friend, Habib Sharazi, had shown enormous courage
under great duress at Lexton detention camp, he could just as
easily have given in to his human frailties, perhaps he had the
right qualities.

A more exacting organisation would have to be
constructed if the they were to succeed in any of their upcoming
endeavors. Each man must know exactly what was expected of him.
Sharazi was the natural second in command and possible successor to
his leadership.

He stopped and rested at one of the great trees in
the Domain and inadvertently looked up at Saint Mary’s Cathedral.
The building always annoyed him because it was the centre of
Christian worship in Sydney, and in a way, it reminded him of a
miniature version of the Agia Sophia in Istanbul, even though the
cathedral looked nothing like the Agia Sophia. Which was once a
great Christian edifice and had lasted for nearly a thousand years,
then fell to the Ottoman Empire and became the greatest mosque to
Islam. This one piece of history proved without a doubt that
Christianity could and would be overcome.

As sure as Stalingrad was the nemesis of the Third
Reich; so the Agia Sofia would symbolise the nemesis of
Christianity. How he wished this could happen again right here in
Australia one of the youngest countries to be settled under
Christian style democracy.

He gazed at the two recently completed spires and
noted the lighter, mismatching, yellow sandstone brick work; why
did they bother in the face of rapidly withering attendance. It was
yet another reminder that Christianity was in decline and ready for
Islamic take-over.

He smiled and saluted the cathedral spires, they
would of course be demolished under Muslim tenure and replaced by
two giant high-tech minarets, which would be seen and heard all
over Sydney. Which reminded him about his necessary provisions for
the decree, should chance favour the BIB.

He walked slowly along the foliage covered concrete
pathways, carefully checking that no one was close by, then keyed
an unlisted number into his mobile. A terse, deep male voice, come
through.

‘Yep...Hamid speaking’

‘Farid here...I need a few items from the wish list,’
Kazeni reeled off a selection of weapons and associated ammunition,
then thought for a few moments.

‘And can you get me three dozen military grade tear
gas grenades?' there was a pause and Hamid came back.

‘Three days for the weapons...but we don’t have that
sort of grenade in stock at the moment...we’re expecting another
consignment from China soon...will send on arrival,’ his mobile
went silent, and he continued jogging out of the park towards one
of the less reputable Sydney suburbs.

Gas grenades had not been used to any great extent by
most of the terrorist groups in the Asia Pacific region, but they
were a popular instrument for crowd dispersion by the police forces
of numerous countries. Kazeni had made a point of studying police
tactics around the world and noted the results of such actions. He
had often advocated using police methods against the police
themselves, since this often had a shock effect, causing confusion
and disorientation. A gas attack followed by a baton charge by
terrorists was often the last thing they would expect; give them a
taste of their own medicine.

One pointer that was always in favour of the
militants was surprise, they could call the shots and dictate the
weaponry, and it came as no surprise to find police outgunned in
their own country. Many things could be practiced on an equal
footing since suitable equipment could now be obtained. Acquiring
arms was not a pressing problem for BIB and there were always ready
sources available through negotiation and the right price. Weapons
were a significant part of world trade both conventional and
black-market sales. They tended to even the odds and made a country
more powerful globally.

The world was becoming swamped with illegal arms of
all kinds and contraband was off loaded from Asian cargo vessels
along the east coast of Australia under darkness. Small high
powered speedboats collected the booty, then transferred it to on
shore safe houses, where it was transported to remote centres in
the bush. It was then collected by couriers and distributed to
individual active groups. The system had worked well, apart from
the odd interception by the police, but this was no great worry
since a major part of the law enforcement operations were being
deliberately tied down by marijuana plantations in the bush and in
private houses. It had taken some time to set up the diversion and
it was now working extremely well, but it wouldn’t last forever.
Several other police diversions were being conjured up and the
latest was blowing up ATM’s with acetylene gas across the country.
The money obtained was purely incidental and the dissidents kept
the proceeds to fund other diversionary tactics.

Accelerating ATM destruction in all major Australian
states was in the pipeline with a view to creating maximum damage
to Australian financial centres and economic resources.

A think-tank had been set up in a country residence
set back from the main road away from prying eyes. Alternate
unsealed dirt roads had been created for a quick get away around
the house, should it be necessary. Regular sessions were held with
ideas being passed back and forth -- nothing was ruled out -- until
after substantial feasibility studies had been made.

Chapter Ten

Pentagon Washington

The Chiefs of Staff were already seated in the
Pentagon meeting room when the president entered with the national
security advisor, the director of the CIA, and an overweight
secretary of defence in close pursuit. The meeting stood, and the
president nodded a salutation; the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of
Staff then indicated a resumption of seating.

The President carefully arranged a collection of
documents in front of him. He perused the papers taking his time,
then looked up, studying the array of concerned countenances.

President Garner always preferred a full complement
of advisors, so that he could bounce his ideas around the group
until he got the best answer. From then onwards he would eliminate
as many of his power brokers as possible until he had fleeced the
entire room of useful information. He gave new meaning to the
phrase ‘picking ones brains’.

Mindful of his veto powers and his last word on all
major policies
--
his final decision would them be made.
Usually this was either in private, or in consultation with one of
his closest advisor, which could be almost anyone from the White
House gardener to the pet dog.

‘Thank you gentleman for attending this meeting so
promptly and at short notice...as most of you are aware, the
situation in Iraq has escalated dramatically,’ he gestured to the
reports in front of him.

‘It appears that a contingent of our recent troop
disposition in Northern Iraq were sent to monitor the border area,
when they accidentally crossed the Iranian border at a crucial
point.

The ten man patrol discovered a large artillery gun
hidden within an old farm house...although this seems trivial by
itself gentleman...they also found what appeared to be nuclear
shells at the rear of the building. The existence of a big gun and
nuclear type shells needs no elaboration for our troop security in
Iraq, not to mention the implications for escalation of
hostilities,’ the chief of staff grimaced.

‘I presume the patrol is safely back in Iraq
sir?’

‘No, I’m afraid not...according to their commander
they were surrounded and a shoot-out occurred ...we haven’t heard
from them since. We can only assume they were all

eliminated, fortunately the commander managed to get
off one last message concerning the nuclear shells.

I don’t need to point out how serious this is, it
increases the emergency situation by several levels,’ Garner turned
to CIA director Barry Lyons.

‘What’s your latest detailing on this director?’

‘Well as you know sir a number of ships have been
intercepted and relieved of their cargo, particularly large
artillery gun parts destined for Iran. Britain has a total ban on
all resources which could be construed as weapons material. Allied
countries are, of course, also following a similar constraint.
Moreover, as far as our sanction info goes, we have no reports of
strategic nuclear weapons entering Iran.

If such items are in Iran their most probable source
is either Russia, China or North Korea
--
quite probably a
combination of all three.’

‘And their means of transportation?’

‘Well sir, that would most probably be by land or
air, and not necessarily by hi-tech methods either. It wouldn’t
surprise me if they were imported on the backs of camels across the
desert. Remember the ‘Old Silk Road’ from middle east history
books...well, they still use those methods to deliver their goods
when it suits them.’

‘Yes I’m familiar with the similes Barry, and while
were at it, don't forget the Japanese bicycle invasion of Malaya
which effectively banished the British from their prize far-east
colony, and I loath to mention the Ho Chi Minh trail in Vietnam in
relation to the US,’ the president held up his hands to tumultuous
laughter.

‘What I really want to know is...has there been any
recent interceptions of nuclear material?’

‘No sir, not to our knowledge, there is however
another possibility -- they could be home grown,’ Garner frowned
melodramatically.

‘Is that likely?’

‘It’s a possibility, but then our knowledge of
Iranian capabilities is not one hundred percent,’ the president
returned a flat smile.

‘It’s certainly isn’t...nor will it ever be. I think
we can safely presume they have been ably assisted by foreign
contingents. After all, smart arse American spies in foreign
countries stick out like red lip stick on a bald head,’ at the
mention of lipstick the president squinted at Ellen Monard, his
female national security advisor, a forty five year old graduate of
Princeton University, who had collected a string of previous
security jobs with various companies, culminating in two stints in
the Pentagon as a security administrator.

‘What’s your opinion Ellen?’

‘Well I don’t think they’d be importing lipsticks to
scrawl on bold heads,’chided Monard to more waves of guttural
laughter.

‘However, I doubt very much that they are home grown
items sir...more likely they could have been covertly imported and
assembled in Iran.’

‘What about the source?’

‘I’d say most likely North Korea or China Mr.
President.’

‘I see...it’s to be expected,’ Garner confessed
sadly, ‘what’s the state of the new troop contingent in Northern
Iraq?’ The chief of staff for army looked up from his brief.

‘We’re on defcon two at present sir...nothing further
has eventuated since we received the patrols last communication
--
all indications are that there are no survivors from the
skirmish,’the army chief paused then looked Garner clearly in the
face.

‘This in itself, is sufficient to declare a state of
war sir,’ Garner ignored the remark and looked through the
secretary of defense
--
there were two main options: either
the US could bide its time and wait for Iran to make its next move,
or advance to the border in strength and demand an explanation.