Terror Cell (Danforth Saga Book 2)

by Joseph Badal

  Bob heard another muffled conversation. Then Michael said, “He tells me it is very unusual for the Greek missile site commander to spend so much time up at the command and control area. At the other two sites he and I visited, and at the one he called a minute ago, the site commanders were inside the perimeter of the base where the missiles are stored. The commander at the site we’re at hasn’t shown his face since we got here.”

  “Where’s the command and control area?” Bob asked.

  “Each of them is on high ground,” Michael said, “where the radar equipment can get line of sight on aircraft. This one is at least a couple miles away from the missile storage area. The firing of a missile is controlled by an officer in a command and control trailer on top of the mountain.”

  “So, the officer in the command and control trailer dictates when a missile is fired and where the missile goes.”

  “That’s my understanding,” Michael said, “but keep in mind that Air Defense Artillery isn’t my specialty.”

  As minor as it seemed, the absence of the Greek base commander from the missile storage area, and his presence at the command and control area bothered Bob. It was just the sort of anomaly that couldn’t be ignored. And now that the White House had authorized the use of nukes, his internal radar was thrumming. If a renegade Greek officer with control over missiles with nuclear warheads was in cahoots with terrorists, there could be a disaster in the making. And Bob knew he didn’t have time to call in the cavalry. Besides, if he bumped this to the Greeks or to the U.S. higher military commands, he suspected it would take too long for them to react. It was already 9:00 a.m. Bob shook his head, as though to clear cobwebs in his brain. If the terrorists were planning an attack, and if the Olympic Stadium was the target, the timing was about right. The stadium would soon be packed with most of the Greek Government hierarchy, not to mention dignitaries from all over the globe, including the U.S. Vice President.

  “I hate to get you more involved, Mike; but I have no other choice. You need to find out if there’s something going on at the command and control area there.”

  “You think the Commanding Officer here—”

  “I don’t know what I think; but I can’t afford to ignore any possibility.”

  “I understand, Dad. I’ll get right on it. And don’t forget that I’ve been trained for this kind of thing.”

  “No one’s been trained for this, Mike. Keep your head down and your eyes open.” Bob swallowed and said, “I love you, son.”

  CHAPTER NINETY-ONE

  AUGUST 13, 2004

  The two F/A-18Ds from the U.S.S. Abraham Lincoln followed the instructions relayed by the AWACS plane now circling the western coast of Turkey near Kushadasi and the ancient city of Ephesus. The AWACS plane had plotted the flights of two of the Mirages and sent the Iraqi planes’ locations to the F/A-18Ds. The American jets screamed at over the speed of sound toward intercept points for the two Mirages. If all went as planned, the jets would pick up the southern-most of the Mirages off the tip of the Attican Peninsula.

  At 0902 hours, the first F/A-18D raised one of the Mirages on its radar and the navigator radioed this information to the Abraham Lincoln.

  “You have authorization to proceed,” the Officer of the Deck radioed back to the American jet.

  “It’s a GO,” the navigator told his pilot.

  “Roger,” the pilot replied. Just as he placed the crosshairs of his targeting radar on the Mirage, he heard his navigator release a little yelp and shout, “Holy shit! Another plane just popped up on the screen. One right on top of the other.”

  The pilot got tone indicating he was locked onto his target, and released an AIM 9 Sidewinder missile. He lost sight of the missile’s trail after two seconds, but was able to follow its path on his radar screen. He banked his aircraft to the left and tracked the new aircraft his navigator spotted. He shot an IFF signal at this surprise airplane and got a bogey indicator. His radar screen bloomed and the first Mirage’s heat signature disappeared. It took a minute to get a fix on the second aircraft—its pilot had taken evasive action. When he got tone on the second plane, he fired another Sidewinder, splashing this bogey as well.

  “Splash two bogeys,” the pilot said into his helmet microphone.

  An almost identical scenario played out with the second F/A-18D and its Mirage. Except there was no surprise second aircraft.

  ***

  The report of the destruction of the three Mirages swept across the communications systems of the U.S. military command and on to the White House and CIA War Room. Bob heard the news at the same time it reached the CIA facility.

  “Three down and one to go,” Tony said as the office erupted with shouts.

  The shouting immediately died down as all eyes in the room followed the track of what they thought was the last Mirage. The plane had penetrated Greek air space about one hundred fifty miles north of Athens. It was speeding down the heart of the country toward the capital city.

  “One of the F/A-18Ds is going after the last Mirage,” Bob heard Jack Cole say into the telephone.

  Someone else at CIA Headquarters said, “Sonofabitch, do our planes have enough fuel to go after that Mirage and make it back to their ship?”

  “They can land in Athens, if necessary,” Bob said. “Come on boys, get that bastard.”

  Then Jack’s voice came over the receiver again. “A fourth Mirage is down; the F/A-18Ds are turning around.”

  “What happened?” Bob said.

  “One of the Greek Nike Hercules sites took out the Mirage with a missile.” Jack laughed and added, “They used a missile with an HE warhead; they never had to fire one of the nukes.”

  “Thank God,” Bob whispered. “Thank God.” One of the things that had been nagging at him all along was what the political fallout would be over a U.S. nuclear weapon being fired over Greece. Now it was moot.

  “We dodged a big bullet this time, Bob,” Jack said.

  “Four big bullets,” Bob said. “We have any idea where the jets came from?”

  “Not yet, but we’re working on it.” He hesitated and said, “We just got word that the Nike sites in Greece and Turkey are being ordered to stand down. We’re going from DEFCON 1 to DEFCON 2. I’m sure we’ll be back to DEFCON 5 in less than an hour.”

  And then all hell broke loose.

  A voice came over the War Room communications system. “We’ve got two more planes coming down the spine of the country. They’re no more than fifty miles from Athens.”

  Bob felt his pulse explode in his throat. He knew without calculating that the American jets were too far south to deal with the two new bogeys. If the Nike sites didn’t respond in time, the only chance remaining was that the Greek Air Force would be able to react.

  Then the pain in Bob’s head got even worse. What if one or more of the Iraqi jets got through the air defense net around Athens and dropped its ordnance on the Olympic venue? And what if those jets are carrying nuclear devices? Maybe Michael’s theory had been correct in only one respect.

  The connection to the CIA War Room seemed to have been lost. All was quiet. Then shouts went up as word spread from the Greek fighter pilots to their command headquarters, all the way through the U.S. military command structure, and to CIA Headquarters that the Greek Air Force pilots had taken out the two jets.

  But Bob felt no elation. A sudden feeling of terror assaulted his brain, making his body go hot and his hands feel clammy. Time seemed to tick by in Bob’s brain as though it was the metronome-like sound on some game show. Michael’s theory about the terrorists possibly getting their hands on a nuclear device caused his head to ache and his throat to tighten. If the commander of the missile site at which Michael was located had gone over to the other side, then he could very well be planning to fire a nuclear warhead at Athens. Bob suddenly considered the possibility the Iraqi jets were decoy
s. They’d accomplished their mission—to get the Nike sites to go on alert, to trick the Americans into arming nuclear warheads.

  “Jack,” he shouted, “I need you to do me a favor,” Bob said.

  “Another favor? What now?”

  “Could you arrange to have the two F/A-18Ds turn around?”

  “Oh shit, what the hell is on your mind now? You already heard those jets are low on fuel. They can barely get back to their carrier as it is.”

  “I need thirty minutes, that’s all, Jack. I need those planes circling Athens for the next half hour. In the meantime, you can get clearance for the F/A-18Ds to land in Athens.”

  “You either tell me what’s on your mind, or you can forget about your little favor.”

  “There’s something very strange about these Mirages. Those pilots never had a chance. Even coming in low the way they did wouldn’t give them protection from satellite or AWACS surveillance. What did they think they were going to accomplish?”

  “Those bastards came damn close to Athens, even with all our satellite and AWACS coverage. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time some Middle Eastern suicidal assholes blew themselves up for no reason at all.”

  “Maybe there was a reason,” Bob said. “Maybe they accomplished their mission after all. Maybe all they wanted to do was to scare us into inserting the arming plugs into the nuclear weapons.”

  “You’re reading too many novels, Bob.”

  “Just thirty minutes,” Bob said.

  “What’s going to happen in thirty minutes?” Jack asked.

  “Michael’s checking out one of the Greek missile sites. We may have—”

  “Did you say Michael?” Jack said, his voice a hoarse whisper, as though he was trying to make sure no one on his end of the line heard him. “What the hell are you thinking? You’ve got a U.S. Army officer running around Greece without orders. You ruined your own military career years ago with the same sort of cowboy tactics. Are you trying to ruin Michael’s, too?”

  “Jack, I had no other choice. It was either take a chance with Mike’s career, or do nothing and see tens of thousands of people murdered.”

  “There’s another choice,” Jack said. “You could be hallucinating.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “Right, you don’t think.”

  Bob had never heard Jack so angry, and his old friend had never talked to him like this before.

  “I’ll try to get your half hour, Bob; but if you’re wrong, you need to think about putting in your papers. And, if you’re wrong, I hope you haven’t fucked up Mike’s future, too.”

  CHAPTER NINETY-TWO

  AUGUST 13, 2004

  Bob saw Tony and another man coming across the bull pen area of the Glyfada office. He stood and greeted the man, Antonio Serifides. The three moved to Bob’s private office. Bob pointed at the two chairs in front of his desk and said, “Please sit down.”

  Serifides was a pale, thin, almost emaciated-looking man with brown hair and amber-colored eyes. He was nattily dressed in a blue blazer, gray slacks, white shirt, and gold tie. But, Bob thought, the most obvious aspect of the man was the worried look on his face.

  “You told Tony you had a possible problem,” Bob said.

  Serifides’ Adams apple bobbed and he pulled at his shirt collar. “All the way over here I thought about just turning around and forgetting about my conversation with Tony,” he said. “I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing coming here.”

  “Why don’t you tell us what’s on your mind? Maybe we can be of assistance.”

  The man looked down at his feet for a few seconds, and then looked back at Bob and related what he had learned from the surveillance team he’d put on Deputy Prime Minister Argyropoulos. “Do you see why I was hesitant to come over here?”

  “You’re worried that your boss, Constantine Angelou, might be in with Argyropoulos, and, if you say something to him about following Argyropoulos to Nicolaos Koufos’ house, you’re afraid he’ll try to divert you and your men away to protect Argyropoulos and Koufos.”

  Serifides nodded and said, “That’s only part of what I’m worried about. If Argyropoulos is tied to the terrorists, as you believe he is, and if Koufos is in league with them as well, then my life could be in jeopardy. These people have murdered Greek law enforcement people before.”

  It struck Bob that there must be a lot of good men and women working in Greek law enforcement who had, for years, been afraid to do the right thing out of fear of retaliation. All because of traitors working in high positions in Greek Government.

  “Do you really believe your boss, Angelou, might be allied with the terrorists, too? Maybe he’s not.”

  “Yes, that’s correct. But, at the very least, won’t he try to protect his cousin, Nicolaos Koufos?”

  “It’s possible,” Bob answered, “but maybe we should give Angelou the benefit of the doubt.”

  “I can’t take this information to him; it’s too risky.”

  Bob thought about the situation for a moment, and then said, “Tell me about this man Koufos.”

  “He’s in the Finance Ministry. A brain. But he’s a follower, easily influenced. I could see how a man like Argyropoulos could lead Koufos around by the nose.”

  “What’s the history behind Koufos’ relationship with Argyropoulos?” Tony asked.

  “They were university students together and were part of the 1973 demonstrations in Athens. A lot of the leaders of our country rose from the ranks of students who opposed the junta. They have become heroes to a lot of our people.”

  “Where’s Argyropoulos now?” Bob asked.

  “My men are still following him. He’s already at the Olympic Stadium.”

  Bob felt his career coming to an ignominious end. And what of Michael’s career? Would Argyropoulos go to the Olympic Stadium if terrorists were about to attack it? “And how about Koufos?”

  “He didn’t leave his home after Argyropoulos left there. I assigned a second team to watch the house.”

  Bob looked at his watch. He had twenty-four minutes left of the thirty Jack had allotted him. He was already out on a limb; he might as well go all the way.

  “Inspector Serifides, I think there is a conspiracy to attack the Olympic Stadium, and I believe the terrorists are going to try to use a nuclear weapon in that attack.”

  Serifides’ face went white. “How is that possible, Mr. Danforth?”

  “Not only do I think it’s possible; I think it’s highly probable.”

  “But that makes no sense.” He looked at Tony. “You told me you were absolutely certain Argyropoulos was aligned with the terrorists. Would he be at the stadium if he knew it was about to be blown up?”

  Bob saw Tony’s face redden and came to his rescue.

  “It does seem improbable, unless he isn’t aware of the terrorists’ plan. Maybe he will be just one more sacrificial goat.”

  “Gamo panageia,” Serifides cursed. “What can we do?”

  “There’s one thing you can do. Call the men watching Koufos. Order them to go into his home with force. Tell them to say he’s under arrest for terrorist acts. Put pressure on the man. If he’s the follower you say he is, maybe he’ll fold.” Bob hunched his shoulders. “It’s worth a try.”

  Bob stood and said he had to leave for the stadium.

  “What are you going to do there?” Tony asked, his eyes wide and his face now white, too. “If you’re correct about an attack, you’ll be committing suicide.”

  Bob came around his desk and shook Serifides’ hand and slapped Tony on the shoulder. “I’ve got two aces up my sleeve,” he said. “One ace is your men at Koufos’ home. Maybe they’ll learn something that will put a stop to whatever the terrorists have planned.”

  Tony looked incredulous. “And the second ace?” he said.

 
“I’ll let you in on that a little later. Right now I need to go to the stadium. Inspector, would you like to accompany Tony and me there? I may need your services.”

  Serifides’ mouth dropped open and his eyes darted from Tony to Bob, and back again to Tony. He looked as though he was trying to come up with a reason not to accompany them to the Olympic Stadium. Finally, a resigned expression came over his face and he nodded.

  CHAPTER NINETY-THREE

  AUGUST 13, 2004

  Major Lambros Petroangelos read the teletype message that had just come in and ripped it into postage stamp-sized pieces. He dropped the pieces to the floor of the command and control trailer. As he had anticipated, once the Iraqi jets were no longer a threat, his unit, along with all other military units in Greece, would be ordered to stand down. His main concern at the moment was how soon the Americans at the exclusion area would receive the same order. Once that happened, they would demand access to the exclusion area so they could remove the arm plugs from the warheads. He guessed he had no more than a couple minutes to act. He needed to launch the missiles while the warheads were armed and the missiles were elevated in firing position.

  ***

  Michael and Barrows sat in the front of a pickup truck, while Sergeant Jackson and four men held on for dear life in the cargo bed. Lieutenant Kantelos followed in a second pickup truck, with two men in the cab and six more in the cargo bed. Barrows was taking the access road curves at breakneck speed.

  “How’d you get Kantelos to agree to join us?” Michael asked.

  “I asked him to call Major Petroangelos and tell him he had mail for the men and was about to bring it up to the top of the mountain. Petroangelos apparently went ballistic, ordering Kantelos to stay down at the missile storage area. When Kantelos told him it was no problem, since he had to make the drive for other reasons, Petroangelos screamed at him. Then Kantelos called the front gate at the command and control area and discovered that whoever answered the phone wasn’t one of the two guards who were supposed to be on guard duty. The man who he talked with spoke Greek with a strange accent, according to Kantelos. Combined with everything else that has happened today, the Lieutenant didn’t need much encouragement.”