Terror Cell (Danforth Saga Book 2)

by Joseph Badal

  Thirty minutes after taking this action, he raised the defense condition from DEFCON 4 to DEFCON 3, putting the units on above-normal force readiness. Minutes later he ordered all units in Greece and Turkey to go to DEFCON 2, and then to DEFCON 1—maximum force readiness.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-SIX

  AUGUST 13, 2004

  Lieutenant Chris Schroeder’s left leg jackhammered the floor while his right hand tapped a pencil against his desktop. He hadn’t been this nervous since the night he’d lost his virginity. The radio sat in front of him. He knew that neither Danforth and Barrows, nor Jackson and his team could have gotten into place yet, but he wanted to know what was going on out behind the base. Jesus, he thought, what if there are terrorists up in the hills.

  “Lieutenant, you’re driving me crazy with that tapping,” Sergeant James Jefferson, the unit’s Crypto Clerk, said.

  Schroeder gave Jefferson an apologetic look and stood. He began pacing the room, hoping what Danforth had seen in the hills was nothing more than a goat herder.

  “Lieutenant, do you have to keep pacing?”

  Schroeder sighed and plopped back down in a chair. He willed himself to calm down and had just about done so, when the teletype machine behind him exploded with activity, sending Schroeder to his feet and his stomach into his throat. He moved to the machine and felt as though his heart had stopped. He turned to Jefferson. “Get the cards out of the vault,” he said, “we’ve got a TOP SECRET/CRYPTO message coming in.”

  “Probably another damned exercise,” Jefferson said. “Those jerks at headquarters are always coming up with ways to ruin a perfectly good day.”

  Schroeder and Jefferson went through the coded cards and verified that the identification code used in the message coming from Missile Command Headquarters in Frankfurt, Germany, was valid. The message text was also coded. Jefferson took the appropriate one-time pad from the vault and used it to decode the message. By the time he was three-quarters of the way through it, his hands were shaking. He slid the message and the one-time pad to Lieutenant Schroeder, who decrypted the message. They compared their work and found they had identical results:

  All units of 37th USAAD to immediately go from DEFCON 5 to DEFCON 4.

  They had barely finished decoding the message, when a second coded message came through. This ordered them to go to DEFCON 3. Within thirty minutes, they had gone to DEFCON 1. All warheads were to be armed. Foreign national units were being directed to elevate missiles to firing position. Firing authorization and target information would be provided by separate message. All leaves and passes were cancelled. Acknowledgement of the messages and confirmation of actions taken were requested.

  Jefferson stared wide-eyed at Schroeder. “What the hell is going on, Lieutenant? We’ve gone from DEFCON 5 to DEFCON 1 in less than an hour.”

  Schroeder pointed a finger at Jefferson. “Prepare a response to the message. Tell them we’ll comply. I’m going to call Lieutenant Kantelos to see if he has received orders from his people or from NATO.”

  “What about Captain Barrows and the other men?” Jefferson asked.

  “Shit!” Schroeder rushed to the table where he’d left the radio. He reached for it as two squawks burst from it. Captains Danforth and Barrows were already in place . . . and they’d seen intruders among the rocks.

  Schroeder snatched the landline receiver from its cradle and called Elefsis. Normally, if there was a problem, he would call the 37th USAAD headquarters, but since Barrows, the 37th’s Commanding Officer was here, he figured Elefsis was the appropriate alternative.

  “Sergeant Brewster speaking, sir; what can I—”

  “Brewster, it’s Lieutenant Schroeder at B team. We’ve got intruders in the hills behind the site. Captain Barrows and some of our men are up there trying to find out what they’re up to.”

  “My God, on top of everything else,” Brewster said. “We got people running around here like chickens with their heads cut off. What the hell is going on, Lieutenant?”

  “Go find the Colonel, Brewster,” Schroeder ordered. “I—”

  An explosion stopped Schroeder in mid-sentence. Then a second explosion sounded, followed by the unmistakable staccato bursts of automatic weapons fire.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-SEVEN

  AUGUST 13, 2004

  The AWACS planes repositioned themselves to better track the two jets they had spied earlier. The AWACS personnel were now communicating directly with USAREUR Headquarters, which had come to the conclusion the two jets were vectoring in on the Aegean. One Mirage had pretty much followed the southern border of Turkey, while the second plane flew along Turkey’s northern border. In the last ten minutes, as the jets reached the Aegean, they’d started to narrow the distance between themselves.

  ***

  The USAREUR Commander in Chief paced the OPS Center floor, a telephone earpiece over one ear, the telephone cord tethering him to a connection under a long table supporting a dozen color monitors displaying maps of the Middle East and Southern Europe. Two of the monitors tracked the incoming aircraft, showing lines inching from east to west, over the Aegean Sea.

  “These two bogies are leaving Turkish air space and will soon be out of range of the Nike sites in Turkey,” the USAREUR commander said. “We need authorization to take them out. The Turks didn’t even have time to get their planes off the ground.”

  “We’re waiting for the White House, General,” the General in the Pentagon said. “The planes from the Abraham Lincoln are on their way. They’ll be able to handle the Mirages. I don’t think we’ll need the missiles. The Greek Air Force already has fighters in the air. They’ll provide backup.”

  “Yeah, but what if we do need them? What if there are more planes moving toward Greece, planes we haven’t detected yet?”

  “Let’s not be melodramatic, General. I’m sure—”

  Before the General at the Pentagon could finish, someone tapped the USAREUR Commander on the arm. The General turned while saying into the telephone, “Hold one second.”

  “We just got another call from one of the AWACS planes. They spotted a third aircraft.”

  “Where?”

  “Coming in on the same azimuth as the first one they spotted. It appears it was flying directly below the first plane.”

  The USAREUR Commanding General turned back to the monitors and saw a third line pop up on one of the screens. “General, we got a third bogey.”

  The Pentagon General responded after a couple seconds. “Yeah, I see it here on our monitors. Give me a second.”

  The USAREUR Commander heard the Pentagon General order someone to put all three bogies on one screen. A half-minute passed, then he heard a moan, “Oh, my God, they’re converging toward Athens.” Pause. “The Olympics.”

  Now it made some sense, the USAREUR Commander thought. The target anyway. He couldn’t figure out the Iraqi IFF signal, or from where the planes had originated. But he suddenly knew without a doubt some terrorist group had gotten hold of three French Mirage aircraft that had been sold years earlier to Saddam Hussein. He had a brief recollection that Saddam had moved some of his aircraft across the border into Iran; but that fact wasn’t important at the moment. Stopping these fucking planes before they crossed the Aegean into Greece was what mattered.

  “How many planes left the Abraham Lincoln?” he shouted.

  “Two,” the Pentagon General answered.

  “Two! You’ve got to be kidding me. How the hell are two planes going to intercept three jets coming from different locations? Look at the flight paths of the Mirages. They won’t join up until all three are right over Athens. And there could be more jets.”

  The silence over the line told the USAREUR Commander that what he just said resonated with the Pentagon General. When the man finally spoke, his voice was cold and steely. “I’m going to order our planes to take out the two southern-most
Mirages. I’ll get you authorization from the President to use the Nikes in no more than a minute. The missiles will have to take out the third bogey before it gets anywhere near Athens.”

  The USAREUR Commander said a silent prayer that there were no other jets approaching Athens.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-EIGHT

  AUGUST 13, 2004

  All the computer monitors at the CIA office in Glyfada were online with the War Room at CIA Headquarters at Langley. Additionally, Bob was on an open line to Jack Cole in the War Room.

  When Bob learned that the White House had authorized arming the nuclear warheads on the Nike Hercules missiles at Greek sites, his heart felt as though it did a full gainer into his stomach. Michael’s comment to him about the terrorists using a nuclear weapon already in Greece flashed before his eyes like a digital signboard. In all the years the U.S. had nukes in Greece, it had never gone to DEFCON 1 and had never authorized installing the arming plugs in the nuclear warheads mounted to Nike Hercules missiles. Bob’s hands were vibrating like tuning forks.

  Bob told Tony Fratangelo to try to raise Michael. Michael had called the Glyfada office after he and Barrows had completed each inspection at “D” Team and “C” Team. The last Bob had heard was that they were on their way to the “B” Team site near Koropi.

  Tony tried Michael’s cell phone number, but there was no answer. He called the 37th’s headquarters and got the telephone number at “B” Team from a very stressed out soldier. He called “B” Team, talked briefly with Lieutenant Schroeder, and then yelled to Bob, “I’ve got a Lieutenant Schroeder on the line,” he called to Bob. “He says Michael’s there.”

  Bob motioned at Stacey Frederick and told her to pick up the line to the CIA War Room. Then he thought for a couple seconds about what he would say to Lieutenant Schroeder that would get the young man’s attention. Saying he was Michael Danforth’s father and that he was worried sick about him wouldn’t get him very far, especially in the midst of a DEFCON 1 status. He hit the second lit button on his telephone console and said, “This is Bob Danforth. I’m Captain Michael Danforth’s father and the senior Central Intelligence Agency Officer in Greece.” He paused for a long moment and said, “Did all of that get through to you, Lieutenant Schroeder?”

  “Uh-huh,” Schroeder said, sounding overwhelmed and stressed. “Yes, sir.”

  “I need you to get Captain Danforth on the phone,” Bob said.

  “I can’t do that, sir,” Schroeder said.

  “Why not?” Bob demanded.

  “He and Captain Barrows and a squad of our men are outside the perimeter fence. Captain Danforth thought he saw movement there and went out to check on it.”

  “And?” Bob said.

  “They signaled me about thirty minutes ago that they had seen the intruders. The next thing I heard was a couple explosions and automatic weapons fire.”

  Oh, Jesus, Bob thought. “What did you mean when you said ‘they signaled you’?”

  “On the radio, sir.”

  “So you’re in contact with them?”

  “Well, sort of. Captain Danforth told me not to break radio silence. He told me to call headquarters if we heard gunfire. I did that; but they can’t send any men down here to help because of the alert status we’re in. I tried the Greeks; but they’ve got the same problem, and I don’t have enough men here to accomplish our mission and help Captain Danforth.”

  Bob could tell the pressure was starting to get to Schroeder. He modulated his tone and said, “Does Captain Danforth know we’ve gone to DEFCON 1?”

  “How do you know we’ve gone—”

  “Not now, Lieutenant. Just answer the question.”

  “No, sir. It happened after he and Captain Barrows left.”

  “Here’s what I want you to do, Schroeder,” Bob said. “Are you listening?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Radio Captain Danforth and tell him he has to return to your location and call me immediately.”

  “He’s not going to want to—”

  “Tell him it’s on orders from his father, and tell him it’s not for personal reasons. It’s business. National security business.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-NINE

  AUGUST 13, 2004

  The two-man plainclothes police team from the Ministry of Public Order sat in their vehicle and watched Dimitris Argyropoulos and his aide, Ari Stokolos, climb the steps of the residence in Syngrou, south of the Acropolis. It was 8:40 a.m. The two-story house was a massive affair, with white stone columns and a broad expanse of lawn, making it look more like an ancient temple than a residence. The man sitting in the passenger seat trained his binoculars on the Deputy Prime Minister.

  When Argyropoulos and Stokolos were still three meters from the front entry, the door opened and a man stepped onto the porch. The man shook his visitors’ hands. Then he led Argyropoulos and Stokolos inside.

  “Who the hell is that?” the driver asked.

  “I don’t know,” the other policeman said. “He looks familiar, though.” He scratched his head and added, “Call in the address. Maybe the computer knows who lives here.”

  The driver called the dispatcher on his radio and gave the house address to the woman who answered. He told her it was important to have a quick answer.

  The dispatcher returned the call in less than ten minutes. “Nicolaos Koufos,” she said. “The house belongs to Nicolaos Koufos.”

  “Who in God’s name is Nicolaos Koufos?” the driver asked.

  “The head of the Economic Development Department in the Ministry of Finance,” the second cop said before the dispatcher could answer the question.

  “Thanks,” the driver told the dispatcher and terminated the radio call. “How do you know Koufos?” he asked.

  “I met him at a reception for our boss.”

  “You mean Serifides, the Senior Inspector?”

  “No, I mean the big boss, Constantine Angelou. Nicolaos Koufos is Angelou’s cousin.”

  The driver’s jaw dropped. “Wait a minute; let me think about this for a second. We’re following Argyropoulos because someone suspects him of being associated with Greek Spring. Argyropoulos visits Koufos. And Koufos is Angelou’s cousin. So, if Argyropoulos is a terrorist, and Koufos is a terrorist, where does that put Constantine Angelou?”

  The policeman in the passenger seat dropped the binoculars in his lap, covered his face with his hands, and groaned. “Equally important, where does that leave us?” He dropped his hands and stared at his partner. “In six feet of horse shit. And neither of us is close to six feet tall.”

  CHAPTER NINETY

  AUGUST 13, 2004

  Bob tried to hide his nervousness, but with each passing minute, he was finding it more and more difficult. It had been fifteen minutes since he’d talked with Lieutenant Schroeder, and still no word from Michael. He had sent his son out on what he thought was a boondoggle. It had turned into a dangerous, possibly life-threatening assignment.

  He was starting another circuit of the office, when Tony came up behind him and said, “You got a minute?”

  Bob stopped and turned. “What is it?”

  “My contact at the Ministry of Public Order is on the phone. He said he’s in a predicament.”

  “What sort of predicament?”

  “He wouldn’t say on the phone. He wants to meet with us.”

  “What do you want to do?” Bob asked.

  “I trust this guy; I think we should have him come here.”

  “Then do it.” Bob looked at his watch. “I’m only going to be here another hour before I have to go to the Olympic Stadium.”

  Tony walked over to a telephone and told the man on the line where he was located and to come over as fast as possible.

  Then Sam Goodwin shouted, “Bob, Michael’s on line two.”

  The office went dead quie
t as Bob rushed over to his desk and punched the button for the second line. The members of his team knew that Michael had gotten into the middle of some action near a nuclear weapons site south of Athens. They’d watched Bob pace the floor for the last fifteen minutes and now stared in his direction while he lifted the receiver.

  “Mike, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. We had visitors behind the missile site near Koropi. Two are now dead, two captured. What’s going on, Dad?”

  Bob realized he was holding his breath. He let it out of his lungs slowly. “Remember what you told me, about how you thought the terrorists might get a nuclear weapon?”

  “Sure. I said they would have an easier time getting one that was already in Greece, than trying to import one into the country.”

  “What have you found at the sites you’ve visited?” Bob asked.

  “So far, other than the armed men behind this site, everything’s been fine. All the weapons are in place. The Captain who commands the 37th Detachment has been with me on the visits to three of the sites. He just called down to the fourth site and talked with both the American team leader and the Greek site commander. They said everything was okay there, too. All weapons accounted for.”

  “Besides the men you found behind the site you’re at, has there been anything unusual at any of the sites?”

  After a few seconds, Michael said, “Nothing I can think of. Hold on and let me ask Captain Barrows.”

  Bob heard a muffled conversation, and then Michael came back on. “Captain Barrows says he hasn’t seen anything really unusual.”

  “Ask him to explain really unusual.”