by Frank Perry
say. Where do you want to meet?”
They agreed to have lunch in the center courtyard. Within ten minutes, they were sitting together at a picnic table away from other people. Rachael was brooding and Peter didn’t say much at first, not sure where to start.
Finally, he said, “Rachael, darling, I don’t want you to be mad at me. Can we talk about this?”
She stared at her salad then spoke without looking at him, “Peter, I thought we trusted each other. I thought I meant something special to you.” She looked up at him and continued, “You probably don’t even know how much you’ve hurt me.”
“Rachael, I never meant this...”
She cut him off, continuing, “I know you don’t, but that’s part of the problem. You can’t just wish away promises.”
After a slight pause, she went on, “You said you were through taking chances with your life. Do you really understand how heartbroken I would be if you weren’t part of my life? Don’t you feel you owe me the truth?”
Peter shuddered, “Ah, look, I know you feel betrayed, but you also have to believe that you mean more to me than life itself.”
Rachael shot back, “I don’t see this as being about your feelings, I’m trying to express my feelings. If you get killed doing something secret and heroic, I’m left with nothing. I made an emotional commitment to you based on an expectation that we could live long lives together. Now -- Now you work around me to take on another dangerous mission. Why you, Peter! Why you! You promised me.”
As she started to sob quietly, Peter said, “I understand that you feel some betrayal. But, remember that you brought me into this.”
“I asked for your advice! Not for you to suit up and go into action again.”
“I know, but let me finish. You got me involved in this thing because it’s important. An important friend of the U.S. is in danger, and we need to try to save him. We don’t have much time. Will Lawrence thinks he could be killed at any time. Hours matter. What am I supposed to do, try to suggest a plan that will take days or weeks to educate someone else to undertake? What’s the point? This guy will be dead, and we all will have wasted several days for nothing, when it’s something I can do immediately. I’ve been through similar missions in Iran before. I’m the only person on earth that can do this in time to save this guy. I have to try.”
“Why? Why do you need to do anything? What if you were just a weekend warrior and hadn’t been nearly killed before in Iran?”
“You know the answer. I have a better chance of success than anyone else.”
“What chance? Can you guarantee you can get in and out while tugging some fat bureaucrat through the desert?”
He was quiet for a moment then said, “Rachael, you know I can’t guarantee anything, but I can’t sit back without trying. You’ve helped convince me this guy is worth the attempt.”
“Don’t you dare implicate me in this!”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it! The facts are the facts, and we’ll have the best resources of our government helping the mission succeed.”
Rachael looked down again, “What good are they once you cross the border into Iran? You’ll be alone.”
“Not exactly, we have native intelligence agents in country. I won’t be alone all the time.”
“Sure, some camel driver is real backup. Peter, don’t kid me. You beat the odds before, but you never went after anyone this high in the government. They’ll send their entire Army after you.”
The conversation wasn’t going to end happily, so he tried to conclude by saying, “Look, Rachael, there’s nothing I can change now, but understand that my love for you will be my motivation to get out safely. We have something together I never expected in life, and don’t want to lose it.”
Her expression softened, saying, “I want to stop talking about this now. When can we go home? I want to be alone with you.”
“I just need to review my ideas with General Simmons and Will Lawrence, then we can go. I’ll probably be leaving tonight if this gets rolling.”
“Okay, I’ll skip the briefings this afternoon. I really don’t want to know anything about this. Just finish quickly so we can have dinner together, at least.”
“I will.”
The briefing with Lawrence and Simmons had already been scheduled at two o’clock at Langley. Peter had prepared a Power Point presentation in the Operations Center that would be transferred to CIA headquarters using their secure network.
The plan consisted of a Gantt chart showing timelines for key events from insertion to extraction. Organizational assignments, call signs and communications protocols were not developed and would need to be formulated as the first phase progressed. This was risky, but time had not allowed every detail to be developed. Peter understood the risks involved and was depending on support from Washington to get resources aligned while he was underway.
The essence of the plan involved one covert operative, Peter, entering the country and exiting with Sheik Abu Qatada under his protection. Other than the entrance and exit plan, he would be improvising once inside the country. It was unlikely that the Minister could be informed.
By three o’clock, Peter had departed Langley and was driving toward Georgetown to be with Rachael. He felt lame about minimizing the danger this operation posed. In his past missions into Tehran, every detail had been planned and practiced. Only one prior mission required extraction of a person, who was a military man and his family. In that case, the man came to a predetermined rendezvous point. In this case, he would have to overcome whatever security surrounded the Minister and hope that he was physically and mentally able to help save himself.
Twenty minutes later, he was parking outside Rachael’s townhouse. Simmons had arranged for a driver and escort to take her home after lunch.
When he entered her home, Rachael was in the kitchen unloading bags of groceries. They met half way and embraced. Her earlier somberness was gone, “I’m fixing a special going-away dinner. I hope we’ll have some time tonight afterward.”
He looked into her eyes, “This is great. I want to help you.”
“You go pack. I’ll get things started.”
Peter went upstairs to the second bedroom where his footlocker was stored. It took him half an hour to pack his gym bag and shower. When he came back down, he was dressed in lightweight civilian clothes with baggy pants and a long-sleeved shirt. He wouldn’t be wearing fatigues on this “assignment.”
They had a quiet steak dinner with good red wine. The background music was soft jazz. The only thing odd under the circumstances was the bright afternoon sunlight. Their time schedule had been accelerated wanting to fit an entire evening together into whatever time remained before the phone would ring. When Peter left Langley, arrangements for transport were just beginning, so he would have to respond quickly once the initial assets were arranged. In the meantime, Rachael and Peter wanted time to stand still. After dinner, he led her upstairs to the bedroom. There was a undercurrent of nervousness as both listened for the phone to ring. A little after seven o’clock, the call came to his cellphone.
“Hello, this is Peter,” was all she heard before he said, “Roger, out.”
Rachael asked weakly, “So, you have to leave now?”
“It’ll be about fifteen minutes before the car arrives.”
They embraced for several minutes, both fighting back tears. It could not last forever, but Peter wanted to savor the moment, which he would dream about if he had time to rest over the next several days.
He was downstairs waiting at the door when the car arrived. Looking back up the stairs, he smiled at her and blew a kiss. Oddly, Rachael stayed upstairs as he slipped out and locked the door. He was gone.
Operation Reclaim Freedom
A light blue sedan was waiting in the street as Peter walked down the steps. Throwing his bag into the back seat, he sat in front with the “Company” driver.
As they wound through the streets of Georgetown headed for
I-295, the driver announced, “We should be at Andrews in about forty minutes, sir. There’s a MAC flight waiting for you. SEAL Team Two is about to land from Norfolk with equipment, so you should not be on the ground long.”
Peter responded, “Thanks, do you have an equipment list I can review?”
“Sorry sir, I wasn’t given any more information. I imagine you’ll have to sign for everything with the SEALs.”
“Okay, fair enough.” Peter had worked with the CIA before and understood that they compartmentalized mission information better than anyone. The driver only provided transportation. He knew nothing about the mission and wasn’t going to ask. The rest of the ride was silent.
At Andrews, the security guard waived them through and the driver knew the way to a set of hangers that were isolated from the others. In front of one was a C17 cargo transport and a C130 Hercules. Both aircraft were parked together with their loading ramps down. Several men in fatigues, Navy SEALS, were moving equipment from the C130 to the larger C17.
As the car stopped near the hanger, the C17 had one engine idling, producing power to start the other engines. As Peter removed his gear, the driver instructed him to report to the commander in charge of the SEALS, and then drove away. There were no written orders. He handed Peter a sealed package with instructions to open it once aboard a submarine in the Persian Gulf. He thanked the driver and walked away from the car.
Approaching the C17 ramp, an athletic
