by Dan Fox
‘Loud and clear’ said Finch.
‘What would be the flight time from Peshawar to that Iranian Coastal region’ asked Broadhead.
Harry looked at his wall map and estimated the distance as nine hundred miles. At six hundred mph plus take-off, avoiding Iranian airspace and positioning for a parachute drop, it would take around two hours. ‘Roughly two hours’ said Finch.
‘Okay, and thanks’ said Broadhead and called Steve’s satellite phone number.
Steve’s phone pulsed in his pocket. He took it out and saw the caller ID. He answered.
‘Steve, this is Robin Broadhead, we have the worst possible emergency’, and went on to describe what had happened to the president and what plans they were putting in place. He then went back into Situation Room and described the outline of the rescue plan. He was careful not to involve the Iranian government in the kidnap plot but suggested that they not be informed of the United States intentions or anything about the rapidly evolving rescue plan. It was unlikely that the Iranians knew anything anyway, but they wouldn’t say even if they did. The inner circle nodded their approval.
Steve Black and his small team had just concluded a very black op in Kabul, taking out one of president Maahir Kermani’s duplicitous aides, plus a senior Taliban figure for good measure. The injured Jackson Leonard had been fixed up at Bagram air base and was already on his way back to Peshawar with nothing more than a few stitches and a sore shoulder. Steve was en route to the Pakistan border. The other two uninjured members of Steve Black’s special team were well on their way to Peshawar to rendezvous with them.
Chapter 31
Andrews Air Force Base, late Spring 2012
As soon as Dado Desai heard on the Air Base grapevine that the president was to be away on a secret mission to India after he’d been to California and Hawaii, he contacted a couple of people with a simple but coded text message.
You didn’t need to have spies about when you had company staff who couldn’t spell security never mind understand what it meant. A few hours later the replies gave him certain instructions and a time table of communications. The president would be taking off on Air Force One in almost exactly forty-eight hours. He had a lot to do in that time. He also sent a text to Rani and suggested that they go away for a holiday in forty-eight hours. Rani knew precisely what that message meant. The brothers had a number of important jobs to do between them in that time-frame. If either of them fucked up on even one item their long term plans and all they had worked for since they came to America would be in tatters.
Dado had two important jobs to do on the air flow system on Air Force Two. He also had another critical task that was nothing to do with the plane’s air conditioning. He’d previously got permission to make adjustments around the main pipe junction feeding into the main compressor/refrigeration unit based on an experimental plan he had proposed some time ago. He just needed to make sure that he had the time alone to perform them. That time might not come in the next hour or so, but he was reasonably confident that he would get the few minutes he needed perhaps at the change of the next shift or the one after that. The main thing was that he was very careful.
Rani double checked the shift rota at the Catering Corps main office at his next opportunity to be there. As he suspected he was not down for that shift. He needed to make sure he was working on that shift. He started to think of a plan of how to achieve this. This was critical.
When they had both finished their shifts and were back in their apartment, they discussed each other’s tasks and made helpful suggestions wherever possible. After a few hours of hard strategizing they had what they believed to be a watertight plan.
Chapter 32
The Rescue Attempt
Steve Black listened in disbelief as the basic gist of the kidnap situation was revealed to him on his secure line. He immediately thought of his previous conversation with the president on this very issue and a cold shiver ran down his back. He now had four hours to get to Peshawar and pick up a ‘company’ jet en route to the area of sea about twenty miles south of the Al Gharam airbase off the coast of south east Iran. The flight would take about two hours and most of that would be poring over the plans and integrating the endless supply of intelligence. There would be no time for his team to rest which they badly needed. Steve hoped that this would not prove to be disastrous. All equipment needed would be on-board, plus ten additional Special Forces people. Some of them he’d worked with previously and who’d just been on clandestine training manoeuvres near the Pakistan/Afghanistan border.
The plan was for a near vertical high speed descent, level out to two hundred feet, approach Iranian airspace carefully, climb quickly to eight hundred feet, slow to stall speed, and parachute men and equipment into the sea under cover of darkness. Thereafter the plan was for the joint teams to head for the coast in the dark using super-fast inflatables. The plan in detail was being worked on. It had to be concluded overnight. As more details became available the plan would be modified. They now knew that Air Force One should be in a particular hanger, the only one large enough to accommodate it. They didn’t know where the president was being held but hoped that his abductors would not have had the time to move him very far. His exact location would have to be persuaded out of one of the terrorist team on the spot. They would re-group very close to the facility and work on their plan.
Dawn the following day would be at 05.42 and they needed to be away well before that. Their priority was solely the president and not the rest of the hostages if they were still alive. Subject to the situation with Air Force One and its airworthiness, someone else would come for them as necessary. That rescue team were getting ready just in case they were needed.
Speed and surprise was the key. No. Speed, surprise and extreme aggression was the key. As the airbase was constantly surveyed by satellite and thermal imagery it became clear that this was being held together by a very small team of terrorists, maybe as few as twelve to fifteen men in total. But that belied the total manpower that had to have been involved over several countries. No terrorist group had ever masterminded this type of operation before. That knowledge was frightening.
As the company plane levelled out at eight hundred feet and slowed to stall speed both the front and rear doors were opened to allow the combined teams to make their jumps after all the heavier equipment had been tossed out of the plane. It doesn’t take very long to descend eight hundred feet by parachute and within a few seconds they were all in the water and grouping together to gather the equipment.
The first target was the inflatables which only required a sharp tug on an exposed tab for the gas cylinder inside to open and fill it with Nitrogen. Once these were inflated the teams loaded the equipment and climbed on board. Once the fuel lines were connected the specially silenced engines were started and they headed at speed for the coast making occasional directional corrections to negate the effects of tide and currents. As they approached the beach ahead the boats slowed down and men from each jumped out and pulled the boats up onto the sand. When the teams and the equipment were removed they were pulled up a little further and turned around to face back towards the sea. This would help to make an emergency exit even quicker
On Steve’s orders they then split up into the three teams they’d agreed to on the plane. Steve would be taking the large hangar, Charlie Bates’ team taking the other out buildings and Billy Dobson’s team securing the perimeter and handling communications. Carrying or dragging the heavier equipment behind them they carefully made their way towards the base. Steve stopped them every few hundred yards to check the area with one of Billy Dobson’s team having gone forward to scout the area. All personnel had head-sets with which to communicate and were set to a special frequency to avoid signal jamming.
After an hour they came to the airfield perimeter and stopped to double check the latest intelligence. Nothing significant had been added. Steve reminded them all of the need for stealth and what was at stake, al
though he didn’t really need to. They were all up for this mission. Then they split into their pre-determined teams and headed off to their tasks.
As Steve and his team of three came up to the bigger hangar they could see through holes in the building’s shell that Air Force One was parked tidily and watched over by two sleeping guards. The plane was empty but through the open doorway pieces of luggage, baggage, coats, briefcases were scattered all over floor. Jean McKenzie squeezed her way through a narrow gap in the hangar wall and stealthily climbed up the aircraft steps and checked inside, being extra careful to avoid waking the sleeping guards. All the over-head lockers were open or broken. There was luggage and equipment strewn all over the seats and aisles and there was copious amounts of dried blood over the aisle carpet and headrests in many places. The plane had either flown through a Category Five hurricane or descended almost vertically at over seven hundred mph with the wings on the verge of shearing off. She guessed it was the latter.
The sleeping guards were roughly woken and soon told Steve where their group leader was. They had a simple choice, live or die. Initially they were reluctant and insulting. Steve walked behind the most vociferous and shot him through the top of the head. He slumped to the floor instantly dead, blood pooling underneath him as it drained from his head. The second guard could not get the information Steve wanted out of his mouth fast enough. After spilling the beans for a couple of minutes he too died with a double tap to the heart. Their team leader would probably be busy abusing and torturing the presidential entourage so no-one felt guilty about disposing of two guards.
Their local leader had only four others with him. All the rest of their people and the main organisers were guarding the president who was being held in a small farm house less than two miles away to the east. There would be no more than eight or ten of them.
Charlie Bates’ team had quickly located the underground cellar under a smaller hangar about fifty yards left of the main one, and after setting up signal jamming equipment, stormed the cellar with their suppressed MP5s. It was no contest, all the hostages were asleep or dozing and the two guards who were awake sat around a card table. They were quickly despatched with just the thud of the bullets hitting flesh making slightly more noise than the shots themselves. They died with a surprised look etched into their faces. Two other members of Charlie Bates’ team ran quickly and quietly on rubber soled boots to the far end of the cellar to locate the team leader and the other two guards who were dozing, and needed to get there before the hostages awoke and started screaming. It was close but after a brief fire-fight the team leader and his guards drew their last breaths.
One bullet nick in the right shoulder of Jim Tandy was the only injury, so far. It wouldn’t even need stitches even if it would be a little painful. The hostages were assured that help was on its way and there were no more bad guys about. The hostages were still in poor shape, even the president’s guard amongst them, so they would not be much help. They were to stay put until they were evacuated. Jim and a medic and one other Special Forces guy were to stay with them until the president was rescued and then they could all make their escape. Two other Special Forces guys who were trained pilots were tasked with checking out Air Force One to see if it could be used to escape.
The remainder of the three teams re-grouped near the outside of the smaller hangar and Plan B was formed. The old, largely derelict farm house where the president was being held was in the middle of flat and open fields. There was no real cover, nothing to hide behind. No big trees or copses. Not even any crops to speak of. No tall corn growing. Only a small hummock between the airstrip and the farm house would help them at all. They would only get to within two or three hundred yards without any real danger of being seen. They would have to make that distance under cover of a diversion or while it was still very dark. Fortunately there was no moon, but the clock was ticking on its way to dawn.
Of course they could create a massive diversion by getting a big bomb dropped half a mile away from the farmhouse on the other side but all that would do is arouse alarm and suspicion and probably wake everyone who might be within a five mile radius. No, it had to be in the dark and now. Steve’s team would go straight there. Charlie Bates’ team would go a quarter of a mile south of the airstrip and then loop round to come in from the west. Billy Dobson’s team would do the same but from the east, so both of those teams set off at a pace.
Because of the flat terrain they could not easily approach within a couple of hundred yards. Fortunately the land around was barren with no other homesteads in sight therefore the only other people likely to be about were any guards or sentries patrolling the farmhouse.
There was dread in what the teams might find, and an operational frustration to fight so they didn’t lose their edge. They daren’t use any form of vehicle or there would be noise and a big dust cloud following it, so quite slowly on foot it would be. They would keep in touch by secure radio. Each team used an advance scout, each being carefully instructed to be extra vigilant.
Steve and his crew advanced and positioned themselves at the bottom of the small hill to the south of the farm and waited. Charlie Bates’ and Billy Dobson’s teams had already started from the airfield, and Steve had made contact with the hostage rescue party and told them of the immediate medical and other needs. Both Central Command and the hostage rescuers were told about Air Force One and the general plan. All this was being broadcast live to the Situation Room in the White House where the participants paced around passing nervous smiles to one another.
In the farmhouse Kamir Jaffri, in charge of the abduction cell, was busy making plans to ship the president to Tehran, the capital of Iran. What a bargaining tool he would be. Kamir Jaffri would be a legend amongst their followers. He cursed because he had no mobile phone signal and dammed to hell the sandstorms which he thought were causing the problem. If only he knew what was causing the loss of transmission, but at this stage he had absolutely no reason to consider any other reason for the lack of signal.
Jaffri had recorded the president on video via an old DVD recorder. He’d then had to send the DVD to the nearest town of Chabahar about fifty miles east of them by truck where the video could be uploaded to Al Jazeera. There was no acceptable Internet access in the area of the Al Gharam Air Base.
Steve’s earpiece beeped a while later and he clicked to receive a call from SQL Lewis Hayden one of the pilots from the Special Forces team.
‘Air Force One is go’, said Lewis, ‘it’s a big mess inside but whatever happened on the flight here has not caused any damage to the important parts of the plane.’ Steve allowed himself a brief smile and thought that the important parts must mean the engines and the wings.
‘Great news’ said Steve and called Central Command to let them know. The two other groups had already started their stealthy trek towards the farmhouse. The south part of the house appeared to be the rear and was windowless probably to avoid the fierce sun during the day. This would be ideal for creeping up and using listening devices. Under cover of darkness it should be a doddle. As the other groups got closer their high powered binoculars told Steve that there was a door and a couple of upstairs windows on the west side, but only a single downstairs window on the east side. One of each group would retreat a couple of hundred yards and circle round to meet each other for a view of the front of the house.
A little good news followed, a large rusty tractor with a trailer was parked about fifty yards north of the front door right next to a small but very dilapidated barn. Still it was sufficient to hide behind. On hearing this Steve moved Billy Dobson and four others around to the front of the farmhouse to secure themselves behind the barn and await further instructions. Steve and his group then took up position on the east side with Charlie Bates’ team on the west.
They were heartened to find no external guards, but equally disheartened to find no other transport. They must have used a truck to transport the president from the air base as he would be in
no fit state to walk. That transport was therefore somewhere else and could return at any time. Timing their assault would therefore be crucial and Steve despatched two men to follow the only road away from the farmhouse so that they could give at least two minutes warning if a truck or other vehicle made its way towards the farmhouse.
Chapter 33
The Rescue Attempt - continued
Steve and his expanded rescue team then discussed the assault on the farmhouse. One, they didn’t know how many men were inside or how heavily armed they were, but had an idea of eight to ten from the airbase hangar guards. Two, they had no idea where the president was but made a calculated guess that he would be in an upstairs room as it would be easier to defend. Three, they had no idea of the internal layout, but had picked up from relayed intelligence that downstairs would very likely be one big room with a bathroom of sorts to the west. It also followed that if the internal wall downstairs split the bathroom from the living and kitchen area, the upstairs would be similar with a box room over the bathroom and a large bedroom which may be simply partitioned over the living area.
The president would probably be held in the big bedroom although there was no guarantee of that. The problem was that if you were the perpetrators you would do things your way, but you were not them. For certain they didn’t have your level of training and tactical awareness. There would be enough room upstairs for the president and maybe four or five terrorist cell personnel guarding him. Maybe two or three would be asleep in the box room, and perhaps two to three downstairs to keep an eye open for unwelcome visitors but they surely cannot have believed that anyone knew, yet, where they were holding the president.
